#was in her early 20s back then . mid 30's now!

[salon-maiden-anabel]

okay i mostly see ppl headcanonning lisia's mom as a coordinator too but what if. mega evolution researcher

[iwatcheditbegin]

The pullback from fans is something that’s been slowly happening for years now, and then people just got even more weird, invasive and downright dehumanizing.

I know we’re not her friends or anything but there’s definitely been a big difference and it is sad. I miss when she felt she could trust us more. But I really don’t blame her for distancing herself bc people have been showing their ass with their lack of boundaries

[lexa-griffins]

Oh God someone stop me from creating a full backstory for a amnesia au that popped up into my head!!!!😩

[jonathansthickthighs]

My Sweetest Heart: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Description: You have a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Part 4 here

Part 5 here

Masterlist

Trigger Warnings: nsfw, yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, AFAB reader, toxic behavior, stalking, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), alternative universe (no curses), daddy kink, age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s)

A/N: hello! this is my first time posting anything here. if anyone reads this, i hope you enjoy. if you do, i might continue it :)

Not edited!

You were uncertain how you ended up with your legs on each side of your head as this beast of a man you didn’t even know thrust deeply into you. You weren’t even aware you were this flexible before this. However, you weren’t complaining as you felt the tip of his thick, hard member collide with your g-spot repeatedly. He had made you reach your peak three times by now and it was evident that stopping wasn’t in his plans. His grunts and moans only fueled your horniness, hearing a man make some noise during intimacy could rile any woman up.

“This tight lil’ pussy is driving me crazy, sweetheart. Fuck— you gonna let me feel you come on me again? Lemme feel you flutter around my cock, baby, please.” He begged into your ear, his low, raspy voice sending waves of pleasure all over your body. This man knew what he was doing to you.

You moaned loudly, feeling his dick twitch inside you. “I need it, Toji! Don’t fucking stop!”

“That’s right. Say my fuckin’ name, baby. Tell me who this pussy belongs to.” You thought this to be impossible, but he started drilling you harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull and forcing you to succumb into the delightful sensation that his large prick brought you. The room was filled with the sound of his heavy balls slapping against your ass repeatedly, your juices pooling on the sheets of the bed. It didn’t take long for your pussy to clench around his dick, announcing the arrival of your orgasm.

“Oh fuck! I’m gonna— I’m g-gonna come, Toji!” You gasped as you squeezed his cock, making him shudder. You were forcing him to come.

“Holy s-shit.” He cursed as you milked his cock. Long, thick spurts of semen started painting your walls white, making your combined juices overflow from your abused hole. He stilled inside your pussy as he finished riding his high, laying his head on your breasts once he was done.

You thought it was over, until you felt him starting to suckled on your nipples.

“Lemme take you again, sweetheart.” He groaned, his voice muffled by your breasts. Jesus, does this man have unlimited energy? He flipped you over onto your stomach on a swift motion, as if you weighed nothing to him. Somehow, you still had enough strength to keep yourself up on your hands and knees. He spread your ass cheeks open and watched as his seed dripped out of your cunt slowly, like it was seducing him into sliding himself inside you once more. He hissed, feeling his dick get painfully hard again.

“Gods, what a beautiful sight.” Toji grasped his shaft, stroking it a few times before pressing the tip against your entrance, forcing a moan out of you. “You want it, you slut? Wanna feel daddy’s dick splitting you open again?”

You weren’t experienced with men.

In fact, this was your very first one night stand. You wanted to experience for once in your life what it meant to be free and to have control over your own body, so when you saw Toji looking directly at you from across the bar, you knew he was going to be the one fucking your brains out tonight.

You had decided to go out with your girl friends to decompress from work when one of them pointed out the dark haired, exquisite looking man that had been staring at you the entire night. You didn’t know if it was the fact that a man that looked like that had been eyeing you up this whole time or if you were just tipsy, but you got a sudden burst of confidence that pushed you to go talk to him.

He seemed extremely pleased you approached him, excited even. He was noticeably older than you, but not old enough to be your father. You had never paid much attention to men his age, but something about this absolute hunk of a man pulled you to him. Looking at him up close made you nervous, the confidence you felt earlier, slowly turning into shyness. This man was definitely the most handsome man you’ve laid your eyes on. Judging by the smirk on his face he enjoyed your shyness. He thought it was cute.

To your surprise you had a very fluid, enjoyable conversation. He knew how to have a good time. You could feel a sincere interest coming from him, he wanted to get to truly know you, asking you questions about yourself, your likes, your hobbies and your life in general.

It was a shame you only wanted to fuck him.

At this point of your life you weren’t looking for a relationship. You had just gotten out of a five year relationship with your first ever boyfriend a few months ago and you simply weren’t ready to get into another commitment just yet. You had been with you first boyfriend since you were teenagers and you never got to explore what it felt like to be young and single. You wanted to learn how to be alone.

So you cut Toji short politely inviting him over to your place and he didn’t even hesitate to agree.

This is how to ended up with this man pounding you sore pussy from behind like a madman.

You moaned wantonly as he spanked your ass red, your ass jiggled with each harsh thrust. “Pussy’s so fuckin’ good, baby. The bes’ one I’ve ever felt.” Toji was so pussy drunk, he could barely form words.

You looked over your shoulder wanting to see his expression and god was the sight gorgeous. His mouth hanging open and his brows furrowed, his body dripping with sweat. Then he opened his eyes and looked directly into yours. You both had the same expression.

“Oh, don’t you give me that slutty face. I’m not gonna last.” Toji grunted, delivering another slap to your ass. You smirked and let out a moan as you started pushing your ass towards him, trying to meet his thrusts. You squeezed your pussy tighter around him feeling him twitch inside you.

“You fuckin’ whore. You want me to fill you up with my cum again don’t you?” He said between a moan and a chuckle. “Tell me you want it, baby.”

“I want it so bad, daddy. Please empty your balls inside me!” Your fifth orgasm was approaching as well.

“Take it!” He bottomed out releasing his seed straight into your womb, making you scream as your own orgasm took over squirting all over his crotch and thighs. Your legs finally giving up as you crashed onto the bed.

Toji pulled out slowly, groaning at the sensitivity. He laid down besides you, admiring your sweaty, red face. He thought you looked the most beautiful like this. “How about we take a shower together, sweetheart?”

So you did and you let him spend the night.

After all, how bad could it be?

The next morning you woke up with a pair of strong arms wrapped around you. You almost got scared until you remembered what happened last night, you could not believe you actually had sex with a stranger. You covered your mouth as you giggled quietly in disbelief. You knew this wasn’t going to become something frequent, you weren’t the type to sleep around, but you had to admit it had been a great experience and you were glad it had been with a man as experienced as Toji. It probably wouldn’t have worked out as well if it wasn’t for him, so you had to give him some credit.

Speaking of which, you could feel Toji stirring awake. You turned around to look at him and you were received with a sleepy smile. “Mornin’, sweetheart.”

“Morning.” You replied back feeling your shyness take over.

“Don’t get shy with me now, I saw your entire being last night.” He joked, giving your cheek a sweet kiss. Are men usually this affectionate after causal sex?

You blushed from embarrassment, he really did see your entire being. You started to get up, only to be stopped by a hand grabbing your arm. “Where you going so early, baby? Let me keep you warm for a little longer.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Toji. If I don’t get up now, I’m gonna be late for work!” You answered giving him a courteous smile. You weren’t certain why he was being so doting, you didn’t know if this was normal behavior after a one night stand. What you did know was that, that’s all you wanted it to be. Simply a night of good, casual sex with a hot guy you met at a bar. A man you would never have to see again and to you it was safe to assume that Toji was the type of man looking for the same thing as you.

“I see. Well, maybe we could grab some coffee and I can drop you off at work. How does that sound?”

“I don’t drink coffee.”

“Lunch?” He insisted.

“Toji—“ He cuts you off by pressing his scarred lips to yours, tangling his fingers with your hair.

He pulled away, his finger still holding your hair. “Baby, don’t worry. Just give me your number and we can schedule something for when you’re available.”

You felt odd. How can you get out of this situation? You hated this, you’ve never been in a position like this before. You felt helpless as you hesitantly agreed to give him your number. The weirdest part being that he never let go of your hair until you entered you contact information into his phone. It felt threatening in a way, even if his grip on you was loose.

He let go of your hair when you handed him his phone back. “Perfect. Let me just call you real quick so you can save my number.” Good thing you didn’t give him a fake number. “I’ll get going then. I’ll text you later, sweetheart.” Toji smirked, pecking your lips before walking out of them room.

You let out a sigh of relief once you heard your front door slam closed. You hadn’t realized you were holding your breath until now. You were feeling exasperated, you were already praying he never contacted you.

Maybe last night was a mistake.

Toji was a troubled man. He knew it. The people around him knew it.

They say no one is born evil, but from the moment he gained conscious he doesn’t remember a moment when he was truly good and quite frankly, he preferred it stayed that way. He had been raised around pain and suffering. He was brought into this world to become an assassin from a young age. He was brought to inflict nothing but agony and that’s all he knew how to do. He doesn’t remember a single moment of happiness from his early childhood to his adult life. He was made to believe he didn’t deserved love and he believe it because he never did anything worthy of it. He knew he wasn’t a good man.

He knew he wasn’t a good man and that’s why he didn’t feel guilty about all the times he followed you as you walked back to your place from work.

The moment he laid his eyes on you, something changed deep within him. There was a feeling he’d never felt before and it felt… good?

You first saw Toji at that bar, but Toji?

Oh, Toji first saw you at least two months before that.

Rain was pouring over him, but he could care less because what he was witnessing right now was perhaps the most breathtaking, heart-bursting sight in his entire existence. It was you. The answer to all his problems just walked past him in the torrential rain. He was amazed that not even the rain could conceal your beautiful face, he could see it perfectly clear. You were wearing some type of uniform that clung to your body thanks to the weather. Toji couldn’t help but admire the shape of your body, instantly getting hard at the sight of your nipples hardening from the cold rain under your white shirt. You had only walked by him for a few seconds, but to him it felt like an eternity. It was almost as if you were walking in slow motion. In spite of being distracted by your beauty, he was still an extremely observant man and was able to descry the name of the company you worked for on the logo planted on your shirt.

Toji wasn’t a good man. That’s why he stalks you any time he can, to him he’s just making sure you’re safe. That’s why loves breaking into your place and stealing your clothes and anything he can get his hands on that will make him feel closer to you. He particularly loves laying on your bed and smelling your sheets, your scent was simply divine. That’s why he tugs on his cock any time he caught sight of you. That’s why he would drag any man that dared approach you —hell, even look at you— to an empty alley and beat them to a pulp without a care for their sorry lives. He was an assassin, it’s all he knew how to do.

Toji wasn’t a good man, but he wanted to be for you.

He couldn’t stand hiding behind your shadow any longer, he was growing desperate. He felt pathetic, this feeling was alien to him and he hated it. He needed you to notice him.

Imagine his luck when he saw you walk into the bar that night. Toji was over the moon. Both of you were finally at the same place at the same time and he didn’t even need to fake a scenario for it to occur.

Toji was having an internal battle with himself, trying to find a way to approach you where you wouldn’t find him creepy. You were with your friends which made it harder for him to come up with a way to swoop you away. He never had trouble getting any woman to bed him, but you weren’t just any woman. You were special to him. He wanted to keep you, provide for you, protect you, love you.

He didn’t realize how long he had been staring at you until he noticed one of your friends point him out. He freaked out internally until he saw you move your gaze towards him and he swore his heart could come out through his mouth at any moment. This was the first time he ever made eye contact with you and he couldn’t wait to hold your gaze for the rest of your lives. To his surprise, you smiled at him.

He observed as you whispered something to your friend before standing up.

You were walking towards him.

All this time thinking about how to approach you and now you were coming to him.

That night he had the best time he’s had in his life. Getting to talk to you, look at you up close was indescribable to him. Although he wished he could’ve spoken to you more, he didn’t mind how the night ended at all. Getting to enjoy your delicious little body was the best part of it. He gave you his all. He wanted to make sure you were ruined for any other man, he wanted you to only think of him from that night forward.

He really thought he had achieved that.

But the next morning you were so cold to him it broke his heart to a million pieces.

But that’s okay, sweetheart. I’ll win your heart over. ♥︎

[penvisions]

there's a place and time {joel miller x reader}

Pairing: Younger / No-outbreak! Joel Miller x Neighbor! Reader

Summary: Moving back to your parents house wasn't part of the plan, neither was being a thorn in your neighbor's side. but you roll with the punches, and hey, he's kinda cute when he gets huffy.

Word Count: 3.1k

Warnings: age gap (joel is mid 30's / reader is mid 20's), angst, biting words, argumentative language, joel is a lil meanie but so is reader, grief, off-screen loss, depictions of depression, comfort, mushy stuff

A/N: this literally came out of nowhere, a random thought on the way to work and then a manic two hours of writing once i got home. this turned out a little different than first imagined, but i hope it reads well!

navigation || joel miller masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

“Why don’t you date?”

“Excuse me?” The form crouched in between kitchen counters looked up at you with a raised brow, surely mishearing the question.

“Dating, I know you know what that is.” You repeat yourself as you push your arms back to brace on the counter and hop up on it. The granite of it is cold on your bare thighs, the shorts you were wearing thrown on haphazardly when a panic stricken pair of teenagers had begun to bang on your door in the early afternoon. The words of ‘fire’ and “help!” spurring you into action where you had been napping on your couch. Now though, the oven was off, the blackened frozen pizza still on the rack and covered in foam from the fire extinguisher neither of them had known how to use. Their father had sent them upstairs, thanking you for helping them out and getting it taken care of. “Or the concept at least, yeah?”

“Don’t mean it’s any of your business, little lady.” Joel’s voice leaves no room for further conversation as he realizes you’re more serious than need be. Little quips between you two common, the unspoken understanding of not discussing the reason for your presence in the neighborhood mutual.

“I dunno, I remember you being real keen on the idea of me babysitting.” You take a sip of your soda, swiped from the fridge after everything had calmed down. “Would do you a favor now, should you need the night off for some…fun.”

“Dating and fun are two different things.”

“Dating can be fun, if you do it with the right person.”

“Yeah, and what do you know about that? Saw you move in all by your lonesome. No big, burly man helping you with your boxes.”

The fizzy drink sours on your tongue and you toss him a scowl as he stands. He’s a few feet away but you can feel the warmth of him as he stands at his full height. He’s reaching to close the oven door, the creak of metal on metal loud in the beat of silence.

“You wouldn’t know fun if it bit you on your perky ass, Miller.”

“Language, you’re in my house.” His brow furrows and he pins you with a stern look. Something you’d seen him give to his brother, his girls, the neighbor across the way when she wouldn’t take the hint that he didn’t want her dog shit in his yard.

“Old men like yourself deserve to have some fun every once in a while. They deserve happiness too.”

“Even if I did, it’s no concern of yours. Your daddy didn’t help pay for two degrees for you to end up babysitting for grocery money.”

The rebuttal on the tip of your tongue suddenly dissolved as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He’s right, you know he’s right. But you just…you couldn’t even open the envelope with the certificates let alone add them to your resume and begin the arduous task of job hunting.

“Fuck you, I was only offering to help out a neighbor.” The words are rough, rounded out with the weight of too many emotions. You shove off from the counter, abandoning your half-finished drink. A delicacy you enjoyed only over at his house, too expensive for you to indulge in as bills you never anticipated paying became your responsibility.

“I didn’t mean-“ He had the self-awareness to realize he said the wrong thing. His hands coming up from his waist to reach out for you, but you don’t look over your shoulder as you make your way through the kitchen.

“Don’t come to me if you do need someone to look after the girls. I wouldn’t take your money anyway.”

“C’mon now,” His full lips shape around your name, but you’re already out the door. Resisting the urge to let it slam shut behind you, your anger still so sharp and hot. But the girls didn’t deserve to feel it, even the echo of it in the slamming of a door. Despite being a dick, Joel was a good father to them. He’d made his home a nurturing and loving environment. You didn’t want to taint it with your stained hands.

As he stands there in his empty kitchen, the smell of burnt dough, smoke, and ammonia dizzies him as he watches you cross over his yard to yours next door. The blank expression on your face and the faint smears of dried pant all over your legs makes him regret his fast words. He had been going for teasing, but of course they had come out harsh and wounding.

You were someone he didn’t know how to interact with. So sweet and polite with the girls, with the neighbors. But you were a firecracker with him. Teasing, whipping words that rung around his head, and he recalled far too often. The little smirk that pulled at your lips as you said them, waited for his response or sputtering lack of one. His own pulled from him, making him feel like a teenager again, like a young man you hadn’t been suddenly left alone to raise a child. Like his old self, someone who stood a chance with you as you gave him your attention time and time again.

He had only ever met you through the words of your parents, the people who had once occupied the house beside his own. He had moved in with two six-year-olds just as you had shoved off to college upstate. The running joke was that it was perfect timing for him to have missed out on the perfect babysitter.

-

Graduation is supposed to be a time of celebration and proud smiles, at least that’s what everyone else got. The day you had counted down on the calendar and crossed off the passing ones as it neared was now a blur of too bright colors and phone calls with people telling you things you didn’t want to think about, let alone hear as your new reality.

A car accident, on the drive upstate. Both parents, reckless driver.

A house that had been recently paid off, left to you. Your name already on the deed, something you didn’t want to think about too hard. Close, you had been close with each of them and them as a unit. A small family but understanding. It was yours, the backdrop to your life and suddenly the two people were only memories.

The move had been quick, the apartment you shared with fellow graduate students mostly books and a beautiful desk. The bedframe taken apart to go while the shelves had been left for the next occupants.

You hadn’t shared the news with any of your roommates or friends, not wanting to taint their own celebrations and happy memories of the day you all worked so hard for. Addresses were exchanged, well wishes were meant, but of course it all faded as time had gone on. Their news of job offers and exciting dates had been good to hear, but with no good things to respond with of your own, it was hard to feel the same way about them as you once had. They reached out, worry coloring their words, which made you feel even worse.

It haunts you for days, as you seal yourself into the home that is now yours alone. The paint slathered on canvas dries and the brushes coated in it turn into hardened caps over the bristles. You’re allowing things to sit for too long, the water evaporating in the cups you use to rinse between swatches of color. The open paint tubes oxidizing and becoming unsalvageable. But you have no control.

The bed becomes damp with nights of sweat, from your tossing and turning body as the heat rises and the air conditioning that needs to be repaired is just another phone call. You don’t even think you know where your phone is. It can’t bear bad news if you don’t answer it. It can’t carry the end of your world if you don’t let it.

There’s a sharp knock on the door at some point, in the midst of the haze of days after storming out of Joel’s kitchen. You hadn’t been able to dissect the sounds of life going on outside your closed windows.

But it had, to the point where now someone was calling on you to make you return to it.

Shrugging on a robe, you hold it tight to your aching body as you push up from the bed. Bare feet sticking to the hardwood floor as the heat fills the home.

“What?” You can’t help but bark as you swing the door open, only to find a concerned Joel on the porch, with your phone in his hand.

“I found this in the kitchen, must’ve fallen off the counter in the madness of getting the fire out and callin’ me.” He holds it out to you, but you don’t move to take it. “Figured you needed it, there’s a lot of missed calls and voicemails. I may have left a few too, to check on ya. Haven’t seen you in a few days.”

“Been here, painting.”

“Okay, that’s…that’s good. Got everything you need? Food, water, someone comin’ to fix the A/C?” It’s an apology in the only way Joel Miller is capable of giving, the need to make sure someone is getting what they need, that they’re taken care of. He’s a good provider, to his girls, to his brother, to the neighborhood when he’s not beat down from long days in the sun with concrete and paint dried to his skin, with wood shavings and stain splotched on his jeans.

“No.”

“No?”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m my own person.”

Your name leaves his mouth on a sigh.

“I know that, but your parents…I know that kinda thing is-“

“I’m fine. Thanks for returning this.” You snatch it from his hand and go to close to door, not willing to hear what he has to say on the loss of your parents. For his credit, he let’s you. Knowing that you’re going through the motions, through the event in your own way. It doesn’t stop him from speaking loud enough for you to hear him through the door.

“The girls will be by with dinner later! Try to be nice to them, they ain’t me!”

-

The meal delivered by two smiling teenagers does lift your spirits a bit, even if all you do is shower and do a few loads of laundry. It’s a long process, the climb out of the hole that you had found yourself in.

Days turn into weeks, weeks turn into months. You’re back to quipping across the yard with the man. His daughters delighting in the comraderies that underlies it all. It’s the height of summer now, the girls spending time with you to try their hand at painting. Sarah is better with bursts of color that compliment each other, vaguely floral. While Ellie is better with a muted palette imposed between detailed line art.

They always thank you for the time and attention, offering to help you clean up or tidy the house in exchange for watching over them when you notice Joel’s truck is still gone from their own driveway until late. They aren’t helpless, but you know what loneliness feels like and you don’t want them to become familiar with it.

You finally open the envelope containing your degrees, the last letters from your friends and pen down long responses. The stamps cute as you drop them off at the post office, the ornate certificates framed and hung above the desk in your father’s old office alongside his own.

Joel joins them most days, mid meal if he can make it in time. Food finding it’s way into your kitchen, something you’re sure is the combined effort of two pairs of small hands and one pair of big hands. The least you could do is turn it into something for everyone involved to enjoy.

But just as things seem to progress, they fall back apart. It wasn’t over a throwaway comment this time, though, but a piece of mail delivered from a local gallery asking after your willingness to partake in an exhibit. That they expressed their deepest condolences in this trying time.

The paint dries up again, another set of brushes left to ruin. The door goes unanswered, as does the phone you can hardly stand to look at. The lights don’t glow in the windows once the sun sets, no music is heard from behind thin screens, nor the sound of you humming along to it.

The house becomes a burden once again, shielding you from the world you as you feel the loss of your parents all over again.

-

You don’t hear the door open from where you’re sprawled on the floor of the bathroom, the shower is running but you didn’t make it under the spray. You’re fully clothed, having reached down underneath the vanity for a bottle of shampoo when your fingers had brushed over something else. A bottle of your mother’s favorite perfume. The one that lingered in every room she occupied, on every piece of clothing she adorned. It was her, the perfect encapsulation of who she was.

And it was staring at you inconspicuously from the shelf. The mere sight of it tearing the wound open once again and making it hard to breath.

That’s where Joel finds you. In tears over something as trivial as a tiny glass bottle. But he doesn’t bat an eye, he’s taking in the scene and shutting off the shower in a few easy steps.

“Hey now, come ‘ere, darlin’,” He’s crouching down beside you, hands reaching for your shaking body.

He’s so gentle, so soft as he pulls you up from the tiled floor and into his chest. Leaning back against rhe now closed vanity to support your weight. One hand on the back of your head, holding it to his chest, pleading with you to match his breathing so you don’t hurt yourself.

“Datin’ is hard, you’re right.” His words make you pause, confusion crowding out the wetness lingering in your eyes. The words from a conversation long ago pulling you out of your breakdown, the casual way he continues it.

“It is.” You insist, voice small and muffled as you refuse to pull your face from where it’s pressed against the warmth of his chest.

“Maybe…. maybe you’d be kind enough to try it with this grumpy old man. I’d sure like to give it a shot with someone like you.”

“I ain’t nothin’ special. Just the neighbor girl your dead friends talked about too much.”

“They loved you, darlin’. With everythin’ they had.” He holds tight to the hand you move underneath one of his. Seeking him out, to feel his skin on your own. “You are special, those paintings they showed me, you got a gift, honey.”

“Gifts don’t mean nothin’ when you got no one to share them with.”

“You share ‘em with the girls, they loved coming over here to spend time with you. Share ‘em with me, if you want. The girls and I are in your corner, we got you.”

“You don’t…you don’t want to date me. Every boy-“

“Boys don’t know how to date, that’s only something us old men know how to do. Will you let me show you, how it feels to be taken care of and looked after? To feel appreciated and like you aren’t a hindrance on nightly plans to play fuckin’ video games?”

“I like video games,” You sniffle, voice gaining strength as the conversation goes on. He’s soothing you, even as he just sits on the floor with you in his lap, his arms around you and your body pressed up against him. It’s the most comfortable you’ve felt in months. And it’s just Joel being Joel, it’s just you being you.

“Show me, if you want. Let me get to know you, let me show you what it’s like to be loved, not just sought after for a night of fun.”

“I don’t date old men.”

“No?”

“You’re not that much older than me, so I wouldn’t really call you old.”

“Cause then you’d have to admit you’re old too, huh?” He reads the meaning behind the change of thought, as if he was in your head right there alongside you.

“Yeah, we ain’t old. Life just beat us down, but damn if it didn’t touch your perky ass.” You reach a hand down from where it’s cradled between your chests, to pinch at where his backside it firmly planted on the floor. He jolts a bit, not expecting the action. But his rumbling laugh lightens the air around you both even more so.

“You goin’ soft on me, a compliment like that is makin’ my heart pick up. Can you feel it?”

“Yeah, cause you’re a big ole sap.” You can’t help the breathy chuckle that escapes past your lips, the twitch of a smile trying to break out. You can, indeed, feel the way his heart is thudding in his chest. The truth of your words and his making you feel some of the weight lift from your own.

“You ain’t gotta clue how sappy I could me, lemme show you, huh?”

“Only if you promise it’ll make me roll my eyes and groan.” You lean back enough to see his face, the roll of your eyes up to take in his hopeful expression allowing you to know how much he means it. Your own heartbeat picks up and you swear he can feel it too, if the crook of his lips underneath his mustache is any indication.

“Only if you promise to have a smile on your face while you do it.” He leans in, nose brushing against yours. The action so soft, so welcome after the isolation you had subjected yourself to.

“Deal.” You breathe out against his lips.

“It’s a deal then.” He presses them to yours, and damn it all, but it does bring a smile to your face.

taglist: @sawymredfox @tuquoquebrute @littlemisspascal @hiddenbabynyc @jessthebaker

@joelsgreys @tonysopranosrobe @morallyinept

[luvsupa]

001 | WORK OF ART

tags: sugardaddy!nanami x fem!reader, smut, public sex-ish, toys used, age gap (nanamis late 30s and readers early/ mid 20s), petnames, nanami is in love with reader and her art, mdni.

w.c: 2.6k

a/n: UHMM GUYS THANK U SOSO MUCH FOR 600 FOLLOWERS?! EEKKK ILY GUYSSS 🤍🤍

+ likes and reblogs are appreciated!

the convention center quickly fills up at eight o’clock as hundreds and hundreds of rich people eagerly gather to see and purchase the artworks displayed by you and your fellow artists.

you’re already over the fact that it’s art display season, as obnoxious rich patrons approach your work only to mock it and its price. your coordinator has repeatedly stated that your specific artwork isn’t as eye-catching as the others in your group.

“your art can only sell for one thousand, and that’s pushing it,” your coordinator once said.

one thousand is quite a lot of money, but everyone else’s pieces are selling for five thousand and more! their bland artwork compared to yours shouldn’t be sold for that much—now i’m just sounding jealous.

all the artists stand at their assigned sections in front of their artwork as the paid guests slowly walk in, drawn to whatever catches their attention. you glance at your friend beside you as she wishes you good luck.

the room is brightly lit with led lights, giving it a clean and modern feel. soft, instrumental music plays over the speakers, barely audible over the hum of conversations. waiters weave through the crowd, offering glasses of champagne that clink as guests accept them.

you stand awkwardly, already expecting the nasty glares at your canvas. this year, you went for an erotic art piece titled “a woman’s high.” the painting depicts a woman in an abstract way, in the moment of climax, as a blurred-out male figure gives her oral sex, with the focus solely on the female.

“don’t you think this is quite… inappropriate for an art exhibition?” the middle-aged woman clung to her husband’s arm, both looking disgusted at your erotic painting. she leaned in to read the card with your name, pricing, and title, her brows raising in amusement.

“hah! one thousand for this? oh dear, this is a mockery to all the other talented artists here,” she scoffed, her voice dripping with disdain. the snobby rich couple found it hilarious, unable to control their laughter. “even i wouldn’t keep it if it were free!” she said as they walked away, still laughing as they moved on to the next pieces.

you stood there, their words stinging more than any you’d heard before. nearly five months spent on your painting, and this is how they treated you. damn that couple.

“your talent for oil painting is incredible,” a deep, husky voice said. you looked up to see a tall, middle-aged man with golden blonde hair slicked back, a few strands hanging in front of his beautifully sculpted face. he was looking at you—and complimenting your art?

you rarely got this stunned at one of your exhibitions, but wow. you shamelessly scanned his figure, muscles bulging from his white button-up shirt, a few buttons undone to show his toned chest. his black dress pants hugged his muscled thighs, and you gulped hard, eyes moving back to his-

“nanami! how great it is to finally see you!” your main coordinator appeared, twirling her hair awhile bombarding him with questions.

“there’s something i want to show you, but it requires us being alone,” she giggled, rubbing his arm up and down. you stood there awkwardly, not wanting to listen to their flirtatious conversation.

“i’m afraid i’ll pass. i’m more intrigued by this beautiful art.” he turned to look at you, making your eyes widen. no one had ever been this persistent about wanting to see your artwork. it made you feel giddy inside.

“oh nanami, this artist needs a lot of practice. i mean, look at the painting!” she pointed out, trying to embarrass you in front of this fine man.

“i wasn’t referring to the painting.”

oh.

“s-sir?” she stammered, both of you shocked at his words. he thinks i’m beautiful? he was very slick with that.

“and her skills are beyond amazing. the way she captures the perfect moment of the woman’s orgasm and highlights her expression—there’s no need for more practice,” he said, silencing your coordinator as he praised the parts of your art that he loved. you were still in shock at what had just occurred.

“however, there is one flaw about this,” nanami stated, and your smile slightly dropped. you were ready for him to treat you the same way everyone else had. your coordinator found an opportunity to bully you and your art even more.

“pfft, finally. i’ve noticed a lot wrong with her art—”

“the price,” he cut her off, pulling out a chequebook from his pocket and beginning to write. “how much?” you both gasped at his boldness.

“i-i…” you stuttered, at a loss for words for the first time, while your coordinator fumed. he chuckled at your reaction as he continued writing, then ripped the paper to hand it to you.

“i’d like for you to come see me later, beautiful,” he said, his smooth words leaving you hypnotized. and with that, he walked away as your coordinator followed him, trying to get his attention.

you stared down at the paper, your jaw dropping at the amount he was giving you.

10,000 dollars

holy fuck.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

as the art exhibition continued on all night, you left your painting unattended- searching everywhere throughout the museum to find the mysterious man, nanami. hell, you even had to beg your annoying coordinator for his whereabouts. finally, she gave in.

“he’s going to his car, something about a gift for me!” she exclaimed. you didn’t buy it for a second, but you headed towards the elevator, stepping in to pressing‘P’ as the button illuminated. the doors closed, and the elevator descended to the parking lot.

the button stopped glowing as the doors opened, revealing the eerie parking lot filled with cars on every level. you walked out, your heels clicking against the cold concrete as you quickly rushed to see where he could be.

“are you following me?”

you stopped where you were, hearing his deep voice. you turned around to see his beautiful smirk plastered on his lips, holding his black jacket on his shoulder. fuck, he’s so hot.

“i just wanted to thank you so much for purchasing my art,” you nervously said as he eyed you down. you squeezed your thighs tight as the tension thickened.

“come with me,” he said, smiling as he formed a sinful idea in his mind. he honestly couldn’t control himself, thinking about how delicious you looked in your black mini skirt and white button-up shirt similar to his own.

cute, he thinks.

you wasted no time, immediately picking up your steps as he strode down the long parking lot to his car. finally, his car came into view—a luxurious sports car you’d only seen in movies and tv shows. how rich is he?

he unlocks the driver's door as you stand in front of his car, listening to the muffled chatter and honks of the city coming to life at night. from the corner of your eye, you see him pull out a box as he shuts the door, catching your attention.

"i want you to put this on," he says, walking closer and towering over you as he hands you the box. you carefully read it, and your jaw drops for the second time that night.

bluetooth vibrator.

"i-i can't, i have to be talking to people this whole night," you stammer, attempting to hand the box back, but he doesn't take it.

"that's the whole point, sweetheart. live a little- have fun." he coos, bringing his hands to cup your face, caressing it. "you always seem so serious. let me show you how to enjoy yourself." for the first time your body betrays you as you start feeling aroused by him.

shamelessly, you bring one of your free hands to pull his neck lower to your level, smashing him into a heated kiss. he smirks into the kiss as you suck harshly on his lips, smudging your lipstick onto his. nanami places you against the hood of his luxurious sports car as the box slips from your hand, making a loud thud on the ground.

"eager, aren't we?" he murmurs, his voice dripping with condescension and desire.

nanami parts your thighs with his knee, allowing you to grind on him. your hips move rhythmically as you whimper into the kiss, growing wetter by the second.

he snakes his hand down to your thighs, moving his knee, eliciting a needy whimper from you. wanting more. he replaces his knee with his thick fingers, easily reaching your clothed cunt through your short skirt. he rubs your leaky slit through your panties, and you moan into the kiss. he pulls away, chuckling at how quickly you became this wet.

"such a good girl," he teases, his tone both patronizing and seductive.

you look up at him with needy eyes, craving more of his touch—more of him. you need him.

“i’ll see you inside,” he says, pecking your lips and sliding his hand away from your heat. he walks away, wiping the smudged lipstick off his mouth, leaving you sprawled out on the hood of his car. how can he leave you like this? you’re contemplating on whether you should continue on or leave- oh fuck it.

“w-wait, i’ll put it on,” you say, rising from the hood of the car and wobbling towards him as you quickly pick up the box. he chuckles, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. 

“my sweet girl, i knew you’d give in,” he says, turning around to see you almost losing your balance. he holds you steady as you start unboxing the toy, wanting nothing more than a good release from him.

you stare at the oddly shaped vibrator, confused about how to put it on.

nanami grabs the pink toy from your hand as he kneels to the ground. “may i?” he asks, wanting to insert it for you. you eagerly nod as he bunches up your skirt to your waist, and you stare down at him, watching his every move like a hawk.

he places a soft kiss on your clothed clit, making you nearly fall over. nanami swiftly tugs down your panties, and you step out of them as he rises from the ground, standing tall as he shoves your wet panties into his pocket. how nasty he is.

“geez, you’re soaking,” he points out, swiping two of his fingers along your slit and watching your arousal coat his digits. he brings the toy to your hole, aligning it with the tip before slowly inserting it. you hiss at the stretch of the toy within your velvety walls, the girth painfully good as you bite your lip hard, clenching rapidly around the silicone toy.

you whimper as he positions the other half of the toy against your achy clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to ensure it’s perfectly aligned with your sensitive nub. he’s determined to see you crumble.

nanami smooths down your skirt, pulling it back into place so no one can see the lewd things happening between you two. he retrieves his phone from his pocket and connects to the app, pressing the power button. your knees buckle as the vibrator springs to life, the dual stimulation nearly making you roll your eyes back at the slow, teasing intensity.

“you did so good, baby,” he coos, his praise making you hum in pleasure as he steadies your balance, pressing a tender kiss to the side of your head. he increases the intensity, and broken moans slip from your lips. he finds your reactions amusing as he guides you back to the elevator, pressing the button and standing behind you, holding you in place.

“y-you clicked the wrong f-floor,” you manage to gasp, breathless. he chuckles darkly behind you, making your skin crawl. your eyes shoot up in horror as you realize he’s selected the floor where all the guests enter to get to the museum.

“oh, did I? silly me,” he says, a smirk evident in his voice. as the elevator doors open, you’re met with a small group of guests, including the middle-aged couple who had mocked you earlier. you feel a fleeting sense of relief as he finally turns off the vibrator, but the situation remains unbearably tense.

the elevator is packed with guests, and you’re pressed intimately close to nanami. the heat of his body against yours only heightens your need, as you’re unconsciously grinding against his bulge, desperate for release.

“nanami, i didn’t realize you were with her,” the familiar woman says, clinging to her husband. the bitch who flat out insulted me..

“mhm, yes, i am,” nanami replies smoothly, his hand slipping lower to discreetly control the vibrator. “have you seen her work? i think everyone should join. she’s got a beautiful speech prepared, don’t you?” he adds, his gaze shifting to you with a knowing smile. heads turn in your direction, intrigued by the fact that nanami kento is involved.

“oh, yes, i suppose i’ll prepare something as well—mmf,” you try to stifle a moan as nanami cranks the vibrator to its fullest intensity. you squeeze your thighs tightly, fighting to keep your arousal from dripping down your thighs.

“and what will it be about?” a businessman in the elevator asks curiously. you can barely focus on anything except the overwhelming pleasure of the vibrator thrusting in and out at a relentless pace, your poor clit being ruthlessly stimulated.

“haven’t—hahhh—i haven’t f-finished,” you stammer, casting a pleading look at nanami, desperate for the torture to end. he only smiles in response, his eyes glinting with cruel satisfaction.

ding!

you’ve never been so eager for the elevator’s arrival. the guests say their goodbyes, but just as nanami tries to guide you out, you stop him, hitting a random button.

“what happened to speaking to everyone the whole night, hmm?” he says, his voice dripping with mockery as he gazes down at your dazed expression.

“fuck them,” you mutter, reaching up to kiss him, but he pulls away, eliciting a pout from you.

“such a dirty mouth—do you expect me to kiss you?” he says, bringing a hand to your face. you melt into his touch as he slowly brings his thumb to your mouth, smudging your lipstick. he rests his thumb on your bottom lip, and you open your mouth, looking sultry into his hazel eyes.

you take his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it and slightly bobbing your head as if giving a messy blowjob. nanami watches, his blood rushing to his growing bulge as he takes in your bratty attitude.

you release his thumb with a slight pop, leaving it glistening with your saliva. nanami, shocked by your filthy display, grabs your face and crashes his lips onto yours. this kiss is hungrier, more eager than the last.

ding!

the elevator’s arrival chimes, and the doors start to open. your coordinator, her face a mask of horror, sees you two and screams in shock. she’s so upset that storms off. the doors quickly close, leaving you and nanami in the privacy of the elevator.

you chuckle at her reaction. “i have to get back, nanami,” you say, your hands roaming his chest, a whimper escaping as you remember the toy still buried deep inside you.

“you’re really gonna leave me like this?” he growls, referring to his raging hard-on. you chuckle, feeling a thrill at his reaction. “hmm, you can still toy with me the entire night,” you purr.

nanami reaches into his front pocket and pulls out a business card, his name and phone number neatly printed. “call me when you’re ready to leave. i’m not done with you,” he promises, making you feel excited for what he has planned.

you give him a quick peck on the lips and press the ‘open’ button on the elevator. just as you’re about to step out, you feel a sharp sting on your ass cheek. you hear him hum behind you.

oh how he’s going to cause so much trouble.. 

[activesplooger]

HOOTERS | Adam x Reader | Hazbin Hotel

summary: hooters worker encounters a recently divorced Adam at work.

notes: this is so funny to me idk why America core fr. also if you don't know hooters is a restaurant in America where guys go and the woman wear like short shorts and low cut tops. usually, the woman who work there will pretend to be "into" the guys so they tip em better. ig its kind of a human au idk this is being written in like 30 minutes and also this is centered a lot on adams thoughts idk

cw: adam, harassment, hooters

Adam sat hunched over in his chair, hovering over his beer, his brow furrowed as he stares blankly in front of him. The divorce between him and Eve had just been finalized, and tonight, Abel and Caine were at her house, leaving Adam completely alone for the first time in over 30 years. "Why did I even come here?" he grumbled under his breath.

In his twenties, this place was forbidden paradise. He was married early on in his life, he didn't have time for Hooters— and no way would Eve let him ogle at skimpy waitresses while she was at home taking care of two kids. Something about it being "unfaithful". Ironic.

Now that he's finally here, it's not all he made it out to be. It just makes him miss his wife. Who cares if 20 girls have their ass and tits out? He wants his Eve back.

He huffs, ready to get his stuff and leave before seeing you stride up to the table with a big smile on your pretty face. "Hi!" you beam, puffing out your chest to make your breasts seem bigger, "Welcome to Hooters, I'm Y/N! I'll be taking care of you today. What can I get for you?".

Big doe eyes stare up at you in awe, his mouth agape yet unable to utter out any words. You chuckle softly and smile, this happened a lot here. 'Mid 40s, recently divorced,' you think to yourself, unknowingly clocking his situation to a tee. Should be an easy table! Middle aged divorcees were basically a pot of gold at this establishment.

"Sir?" you say softly. Adam blinks out of his tranced state and turns away, covering his mouth with his hand to cover his heavy blush, "Uh yeah sorry I don't usually go here so-". "No worries," you grab a menu and point to various meals, "our most popular things are our fries, hot wings, and nachos! My personal favorite are chipotle honey wings though!". Adam wasn't listening at all, he's too busy staring down your shirt to hear anything. He realizes you finished talking and snaps his head back up to look at you, "Oh uh- I'll just have... All of that, yeah.".

"You got it!" you grab the menu off the table, "I'll be right back with your food.". "Thank you," he says. "Aw you're so sweet!" you gently grab his arm, "you're welcome. I'll be back!". You walk off, leaving Adam a hot mess. He's frozen in place, eyes fixed on where you touched his arm.

You called him sweet AND touched him. That was the most affection Adam had gotten in months. Not to mention the face that your tits were totally out, begging for his attention. And fuck, the words "I'll be taking care of you today" sounded so sweet coming from those pretty little lips. Your curves, your ass that hung out of those skimpy orange shorts, the gentle sway of your hips as you walked... Your- Your- "Fuuuucckkk," Adam groaned quietly, feeling his pants grow tighter the longer he thought about you.

He quickly crossed his legs and stretched his oversized hoodie to cover the massive bulge stretching the fabric taut. His mind was a whirlwind of guilt and unwanted arousal. Just last year he had a family, a wife. And now look where he was, sitting in a hooters covering his raging boner because of that slutty fucking waitress.

You walk back to his table and set down the plates of food, "Here you are! Enjoy.". He says nothing in response, staring at the untouched plate of wings and fries you had brought him. "Everything alright?" you ask softly, gently placing a hand on his shoulder. Adam jerks his shoulder at the touch, "I'm fucking fine!". "Oh, Jesus," he sighs, "I'm sorry I- I'm going through a rough time.".

Ah. You figure he must have recently gotten a divorce. You offer a gently smile toward him and remove your hand, "It's okay, I understand. I've been having a rough time too... Enjoy your food.". Adam stares at you as you walk away. This must be fate. The two of you meeting while your both going through a shitty time?! Fuck all that guilt, he didn't need that shit anymore. He needed you.

__ Adam had been coming in the past few weeks, requesting you each time as a server. Whenever you weren't available, he'd walk out in a huff and slam the door behind him.

Each time he ate here, you had greeted him with the same warm smile, taking his order with practiced efficiency, and making sure his glass was never empty. But there was no spark in your eye, no hint of the same longing that gnawed at Adam.

Tonight, after an argument with Eve, he was particularly upset and pretty drunk. Upset about Eve, his family, his life, you. You. His eyes narrowed in on you as you bounced from table to table with the same cheerful and very friendly attitude— the same attitude you had showed him. The one that made him feel special. "Fucking slut," he mutters under his breath. How could you?

You walk up to his table, "Hey, Adam! Hows the-". "Shitty!" he interrupts, his words slurred as he speaks. "The food was shitty?" you tilt your head, "I'm sorry.". "No! you!". "I'm shitty?" you raise an eyebrow, stepping back incase he "over steps" his boundaries.

"Yes! With your slutty little outfit and- fuck!". Adam reaches out and grabs your waist, trying to pull you back to him. "Hey!" A security guard intervenes and stands in between you two, "everything okay over here?". "I-Its fine, just get him a new server," you walk away and go tend to your other tables, begrudgingly feeling a bit guilty for the guy. He was just so pathetic.

Adam groans loudly, a loud whiney moan that turns the heads of other people in the establishment. A new server tends to him, he only asks for more beer. He stays there until its after closing and he's passed out.

"Should I call someone-?" the replacement server asks you. "No no," you sigh, "I'll deal with it. Go home.". She nods and heads out. You look at him and groan, "Oh my God...".

__

You had dragged him out of from the table and all the way to the parking lot. He was just hauled through the rough roads and he was still passed the fuck out. It took all the strength in you to move him, you hoped he would've woken up but somehow he didn't. After finally getting his giant body into the back seat, you tied him down with the seatbelts and made your way to your house. It was stupid, bringing this old guy that was obsessed with you into your own home. He just seemed too stupid to do any actual harm. You made sure to lock your bedroom door though while you were sleeping. __

Adam wakes up, his head throbbing as the memory from last night comes back to him. "Fuck," he rubs his eyes. Once he looks up, he takes in the unfamiliar surroundings. He wasn't home. He wasn't at Eve's either.

"Good morning," you greet him, grabbing your things as your about to leave for your morning shift. "Where- How did I get here?". "I took you here after you harassed me and passed out," you reveal, eliciting a groan from Adam. You open the door. Adam sits up and calls out to you, "Wait! Where are you going?". "Work." you state flatly.

"No no no," Adam gets up and makes strides till theres no space between you two, "no way in fucking hell I'm letting you leave now.". "I can't leave my own apartment?" you shoot back in a snarky home. "Don't be a brat. You wouldn't have brought me home if you weren't into me," He takes your hips into his large calloused hands, "so your either into me, or your really fucking dumb.".

"I guess I could call in sick to work," you bite your lip, contemplating on what you really wanted to do. Why did you bring him home? Fuck maybe you did want him.

"Good girl," he brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face and tilts your chin up to face him, "why don'chu go make that call, sweetheart.".

__

uhh so i lost steam at the end if u wanna like take this idea and rewrite it go ahead sorry im not feeling well right now

[quandledlngle69]

"EVEN IF IT FEELS RIGHT, IT'S WRONG."

☆ CONTENT:  An office AU where olderfem!reader is the secretary to Reo's father in the Mikage corporation, and she finds herself battling with morals and professionalism when Reo takes over as the CEO and confesses to reader in an elevator. ☆ GENRE/THEMES/WARNING: Office AU, trapped/forced proximity, confession, age-gap, reader and Reo almost kiss, reader is in her early 30's, Reo is in his mid 20's. Reader is abit cold and snobbish to Reo at first. Reader is a older female woman, implied that reader is black, reader wears a lace front. ☆ PAIRING: Olderfem!reader x CEO!ReoMikage ☆ W.C. 3.2K ☆ NOTE: This fanfic is based on the results of this poll–enjoy!

You have been with the Mikage Corporation for over seven years.

A loyal employee, one might say.

But you know it's because it couldn’t get any better than this.

When you were younger, you found it suspicious you had been handed the job on somewhat of a silver platter, but you never questioned it. You were fresh out of uni with a business management degree, bubbly as a cluster of bubbles, nothing could stop you. Younger you assumed it had been given to you so easily because you were fully qualified for the job. Which–was a factor, but if you asked your grumpy self now, you were still angry about the fact you didn't see the painfully obvious reason–that you were just a fresh object they could wear out until you needed to be discarded. And boy were you more worn out then a fucking used cloth.

You wanted to punch your past self for having this bright and colourful expectation of the world you were about to get into. A comfortable, easy life. Yet seven years later, all you had gotten out of this job was a reality slap in the face, chronic lower back pain, and the constant pressure and expectations from those around you made the outcome of your work feel personally worthless.

Working as Mr Masamune Mikage’s secretary was a hell you didn’t even want your worst enemies to experience. It was workload after workload, planning events after events, calls after calls. After a while of picking up the phone desk with slightly whitened knuckles, you had noticed fingerprints indented on the sides. 

And his wife was the most, no, thee most insufferable person on this planet to try and please. She was never happy with how you were dressed, your shirt was never the right length, and your makeup was never right for her. (god forbid you caked your face with pounds of makeup.) And who needs to host a party for the company getting another deal? They get three of those each week, doesn’t the woman get tired being in those six inch heels all day? Or talking to other egotistical trophy wives?

You pride yourself on being the sole person who ordered those around, who filled out the important paperwork on behalf of the CEO, who made sure the project's deadlines were met, who answered all the calls from other professional and expecting businessmen–who sneered as they asked you to specifically get a male representative on the phone.

You clawed your way to your place as secretary, you sacrificed the person you once were, and became a shell of yourself to gain this basically top–of–the–hierarchy through blood, sweat and tears.

And then, his son takes over his position. 

Yes, the Reo Mikage. 

You admittedly didn’t have high hopes with him first refusing to take the position from his father, you started with the prejudgment that it wouldn't be surprising if half of the company ran into the ground the first month of him even stepping in his fathers office.

It irked you.

The fact he didn't seem to take the job as seriously as you did, and his father did. 

One could say he was childish.

For a man in his mid twenties, and had seemingly been trained his whole life to take over his fathers company, he sure lacked the experience of actually being in an office and taking charge. He doesn’t run on excessive ice coffee and redbull like you–oh no, one matcha latte from the coffee shop downtown, and it's like he's energised for the entire day.

And you? Well, you just felt like a grumpy, slow slug the seven out of the eight hours you have to work.

It ruffled your feathers when he would ask if you needed help with your large workload, or constantly scolding you like some child for ‘pushing yourself too hard’. You had to bite back the glare you were barely holding back, if only it wouldn’t get you written up. In spite of that, there were–other things that would puzzle you. Supposedly like how he remembered it was standard routine for you to have a can of redbull after lunch, and how he would slightly chuckle at your surprised and confused expression as he placed the cool can on your desk. Because–who does that?

The way almost everyone in the office automatically liked him, like a magnet to metal, made your eye twitch. As a grown adult, you grasp the sense that you should restrain yourself, but it undoubtedly drives you up the wall when your openly cold attitude or sneering side remarks bounce off him and are instead met with an unwavering politeness. Despite that, you had found yourself subconsciously putting in…extra effort to look nice. Making sure your makeup was never cakey, your lace was laid, your edges were perfect.

You espied it too. The subtle glances and staring he thought you couldn’t see in your peripheral vision. You could almost kick yourself for subconsciously recognising the pattern of times he would do it, too. Such as when you are preoccupied with typing documents, speaking to other co workers, speaking in private meetings–

It's humiliating how many times you've almost stuttered in your speech, or your fingers pausing, hovering just above your keyboard. Just from his piercing amethyst irises alone.

Talking about his eyes—

They're very piercing, a beautiful mulberry when you're up close. And they seem to hold a certain sparkle of ‘capitalism hasn’t crushed my spirit yet.’

...

Fine. You admit it, he’s attractive. Conventionally attractive. The only funny part of your job was entering the empty printing room to begin shredding many love letters that somehow manage to find their way into his office daily. Filthy rich, intelligent, handsome, tall, and a CEO? Either he’s God's favourite or you're in a cheesy fantasy book. 

But he’s way too young, even for you. Not only is it almost over half a decade age gap, but you had been called a hag too many times from middle aged drunk men when you rejected them. (Only after you had told them your age.) And not that you would admit it outloud, but it hurt your self–esteem enough to not even look in a slightly younger man's direction or seek out any relationships.(Not as if you had been in many.) You didn’t even have any wrinkles!

But these days, you quite frankly push those thoughts away and just bury your head in your work and avoid Reo–Mr. Mikage, now you mean–as much as you can. 

It had been a long day, the overtime was almost overkill for your brainpower and body, but at least you would be paid for the two hours of overtime.

Your heels echoed ever so subtly on the dark grey carpet. The floor–to–ceiling windows on the left allowed the warm tangerine light to be poured like paint in the long stretched corridor, stretching out to every sharp shadowed corner and exposing itself. Everyone on the floor had already packed up and respectively went home, they did good work, finishing the project a day early from the deadline. Your brief gaze out the window had turned into a long take in of the world below you. The city buildings were also getting licks from the orange light, slivering its way onto streets and reflecting windows, passing civilians dipping in and out of the shadows and into the light to bask in its warmth. Your eyes flickered up slightly to the sky, overwhelmed by the smear of crimson and cantaloupe orange, leaving little of the sky blue that dominated the sky only a few hours earlier. The amber–tinted clouds flew by lazily, painting the perfect picture of a sunset over the city of Tokyo.

You snapped out of your smooth train of thought as your phone beeped, it was a message from your mother. 

“Mommy misses you lots, hope you can visit again in the summer!”

You smiled sheepishly to yourself at the message, taking in the photo she sent you soon after, her and your siblings sitting on the couch, seemingly doing their traditional Friday movie night. There was a melancholy feeling that blossomed in your chest at the empty space at the end, where you would sit.

You quickly brushed it off, knowing that summer wasn’t as far away, and then you would be back at your childhood home again. You put your phone in the pocket of your black blazer dress, continuing to walk towards the end of the halfway. You approached the glass elevator.

Gently pressing the button with a down arrow with your acrylic nail, you stepped back at a respectable distance, thinking if someone were to come out so you wouldn’t be in their way.

You were pleasantly surprised as the heavy elevator doors opened to reveal an empty box, the glass from ceiling to floor allowing an in depth view of the city below. It was a relief knowing you were way too socially drained to have idle chit chat with a coworker. You settled comfortably in the corner after pressing the button to ground level, you silently appreciated the warmth of the sun's light penetrating from all sides of the glass. Watching the light split into its many spectacles of colours on the floor, you didn’t even notice the hand that stopped the elevator doors from shutting at the last second until it creaked, opening back up again. 

You braced yourself for the onslaught of small talk you would have to have with a coworker, yet your heart dropped as you made eye contact with a familiar face, your body tensing immediately before you forced yourself to bow. 

Reo Mikage.

“Oh please, you don’t need to bow, {name}.” His voice abashedly replied to your polite gesture, waving his hand casually as you stood up straight again, before he joined you in the elevator. 

The atmosphere instantly felt heavier, to you anyway. There was this tension that was lingering in your chest, oppressive and clingy. The scent of his cologne only made it worse, Dior sauvage. It was a scent that was so signature, you would know if Reo had been in the room only moments prior, because it lingered. You swallowed dryly, trying not to inhale what you deemed to be the most heavenly masculine scent on this earth.

“Ground floor?” He questions politely, like he always does, looking back at you.

“Yeah,” you replied, not trusting yourself to say anything more than one word.

He presses the button once again before taking a step back, standing right next to you, his shoulder practically brushing yours. You felt the small sway of the elevator before it began to descend. You were on the top floor, and it would take a few good minutes to reach the ground floor without stopping on the other floors. You had basically stopped breathing by this point. He’s doing it on purpose, you swear. There was too much room to be touching shoulders at all, and his next words broke your train of thought. 

“Congrats on finishing the project early, it's nice to know I can rely on you.” 

‘Rely on you.’

It's the slight praise in his words and voice that makes your chest tighten, and you could see his head twisting towards you, his stare piercing your side profile, yet you stared straight ahead.

You laughed nervously, although his words struck a nerve in you. “Ah thank you sir, it was nothing, really.”

There was a beat of silence for a moment, and you watched his expression shift into something you couldn’t read. By this point, you were wondering if he was gonna drop the small talk here, but you felt an air of disappointment radiating from him.

“That's good, I'm glad you have no pressure on you for a while.” he admits honestly. Your lips pursed, and his voice grew quieter with his next words, as if he was hesitating. “I'm lucky to have you by my side, your company is a real treat.” 

The way he said it, it was almost as if he was tiptoeing around his words, as if he was…testing something with you, like he was hoping you would pick up on some casual hint he was throwing. And you did. It was too intimate for your comfort, and when you finally found the courage to turn to look at him, he was already looking at you, and your chest tightened with a certain sense of panic. The boyish smile and charm had faded completely, only leaving a serious and almost desperate look on his face. 

His voice was deeper, way deeper than it was before, it took you off guard, almost like he reminded you he really was a man. His voice was smooth and steady, and hauntingly calm.

“Why do you hate me?”

His question took you completely off guard, like a rug had been yanked from under your feet. He didn’t take his eyes off your face even once, your mouth opened and closed like a fish, pathetically trying to scramble for an answer in your brain. But before you could find one, he continued going on a rant.

“You never seem to hold a decent conversation with me, you're almost always tense and on guard when I'm around, and you seem to be even more annoyed when I try to make your life a little easier. Did I do something to offend you?” He questioned.

His accusations were so fast, and so many points were made that all you could do was look at him like a deer in headlights. He leaned ever closer, his gaze searching yours for some sort of answer.

“Did you hit your head?” Was all you could blurt out, but there was no hint of malice in your tone.

It seemed your choice of words surprised both yourself and Reo, as his eyes widening in shock. You felt your neck and face heat up in embarrassment, this was your superior! And you were damn nearly calling him stupid.

“Mr. Mikage,” Your voice cracking slightly, betraying your composed professionalism. “I’m so sorry–”

You were interrupted with a laugh, a loud, authentic laugh that left your apologises dying in your throat, your head reeling at his unexpected reaction. It left your heart stuttering at the break of professionalism he showed in front of you. He was doubled over in a carefree manner, your body still frozen from shock as he composed himself, letting out a loud sigh before he shook his head, turning towards you.

“See? I knew you weren't so stone faced.” 

His boyish smile faltered after a moment, as if he was remembering the start of this whole conversation. It made your stomach twist for some reason. Why did you care about his emotions so much? His voice was steadier than expected for someone who was chuckling heavily only moments ago. 

“You still didn’t answer my question, do you hate me?” 

“Well–of course not sir.” You stuttered, cursing yourself as you looked anywhere but his face. 

He stepped closer, his whole frame forcing itself to fill your full vision, making it almost impossible to look anywhere else but him. “Is it because you know I find you attractive? Is that why?” 

You would have laughed at his words if they weren’t so full of firmness, a severe boldness you didn’t think he would have had yesterday.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you had been holding. “Me?" you answered dumbly. “You think I’m attractive?” 

“I do,” he said simply. “I find you extremely attractive.” 

Reo Mikage, liking his secretary? You? Just someone who works under him five days a week? This must be a prank–but, there's no playfulness in his tone, none of the light teasing he usually did. Just pure, raw, sincerity. 

And you couldn’t handle that.

“No.” You said calmly, your eyes fluttering shut. “No Reo, we're not doing this, not now, not ever.” His eyes squinted at the use of his first name, his gaze not wavering.

“I'm not lying. Do you think I'm joking? I’m dead serious, I promise you.” Before you could shoot down another one of his overthinking questions and thoughts he continued, “Is it because you think I'm spoiled? Or too childish, too young?–” 

“Reo,” you said sternly, interrupting him more harshly than you wished. “We are not doing this here.” 

Not only was he technically your boss, and your past boss's son, he was younger than you. You were old enough to be with his mother at social gatherings. And this wasn’t a fleeting confession you could just brush off with a lame excuse like you usually could do–he was your boss, and you were his secretary. You saw him mostly every minute of the day and there was nothing you could do about it. 

“Please,” he begged. Suddenly feeling his warm breath on your face, your eyes snapped open to see him looming over you, his amethyst eyes had lost their once confident spark it always had, only leaving desperation and softness. “I promise, I'll take care of you.”

“I-I can take care of myself.” Your voice trembled, yet you couldn’t even hear it from the magnitude of your heart beating in your ears. 

“You know that's not what I mean.” He whispered, his voice sounding more husky than before as he took a half–step closer to you, and his face was somewhat inches from yours. Your mouth was as dry as a desert, even more when his large hands came to gently rest on your shoulders. You could feel the searing heat emitting through his palms, through your blazered dress, making a lasting impression on your skin. It made your senses go on full alert, your head automatically tilting up to meet his eyes. 

A deep part of your brain didn’t want him to take his hands off. 

“I can take care, of you.” 

His frame is so much larger compared to yours, and the faint smell of his cologne surrounds you again and envelopes your senses. You wanted to scream, lash out and pull him closer all at the same time. 

“I know,” you declared finally, your voice hoarse and vulnerable. Your resolve was crashing down faster than you could think logically about the consequences. “I know you would.”

“Right.” he stated quietly, his eyes shifting to the side of your face; his right hand gradually sliding up, his rough fingers wrapping themselves loosely around a loc of your hair. “Your beautiful, {name}. Just give me one chance. Please.” 

He pleaded like a schoolboy begging to be let off an after school detention. And by the time you realised his lips were centimetres away from yours, the manifestation of your desire had severely beaten the logical side of your brain black and blue. 

“Okay,” you answered with a croak, voice barely audible, “one dinner.”

He smiled, hope–filled. Before he could get another word out, the doors to the elevators abruptly opened, making Reo scramble back to a safe distance as you were both exposed back to the hearty filled reception. He stepped out before you and walked away with an air of confidence and triumph in his steps, but not before mouthing a few words to you. 

“Meet at the Lapérouse, 8pm. Wear red.” 

･ﾟ★ credits for dividers!: @anitalenia @enchanthings-a

  Quandaledlngle69 © 2025

[the-superoriginal]

A taste of the forbidden fruit

Summary: This should have been just a day like any other. But it ended with something you hadn't even dared to hope to actually happen.

Warning(s): dbf!bucky, short!female!reader, age gap (reader is in her early 20 and Bucky in his mid 30s), kissing, guess you can read it as a gender neutral! reader too?

A/N: I finally finished a/this WIP! Wuhu! (Please, imagine me to wipe the non-existenting sweat from my forehead now.) I am not really satisfied with it through, but I guess I can still publish a updated version one day.

PS: I am awful with writing summaries and titles.

English is not my native language!

You leaned back against the beige jeep of your Dad's best friend, the sun slowly setting after a long day and basking the sky in a mix of orange, lila und blue. "I'll bet 5 Dollar that she won't even remember this tomorrow.", you grinned slightly amused as Bucky came back out of your friend's house again. He had just brought her in like the gentleman he was, because Lucy had drunk just a bit too much. And considering your height difference and the fact she weighed a bit more you hadn't been able to bring her in. The man chuckled quietly, shaking his head a bit as he rounded his car, pointing at you for a moment while opening the driver's seat door. "Deal."

He may be a gentleman but he could have fun too.

Your grin widened as you seated yourself in the passenger seat again. Bucky following just a second later. His cologne hit you after the doors were closed and he started to drive. It tickled your nose, his scent a pleasing mix of the cologne and him — musky, old books and motor oil.

It wasn't the first time you noticed it and you were sure it wouldn't be the last. He was your father's best friend after all which inevitably meant that he was at least once a week in your parents house and also had physical contact with you occasionally.

"There we are.", Bucky mumbled as he opened the passenger door for you, helping you out with his larger hand wrapped around yours. You chuckled a bit, ignoring the warmth his touch sent through you. "You don't need to do that, you know that, yeah?"

He just smiled, revealing his laugh lines to you again as he closed the door behind you, letting go of your hand in the progress. He was beautiful and you screwed for catching yourself thinking it more and more recently. "I know. But I wanted to do it.", he simply said and you cursed internally for how it made your heart skip.

"You coming in too?", you asked while already making your way to the front door. You hoped he would. Just so you could spend a bit more time with him. Especially now where it were just you two. Without your parents or friends. Bucky chuckled lightly as you opened the door, his words soft. "Of course."

A few hours passed filled with laughter and shared stories. By now the sky was dark to make room for the moon and stars. "And then I spilled my coffee on him.", you ended your story with a chuckle. It wasn't embarrassing to you anymore. There had been enough time passed between the happening of the story and now. Bucky chuckled, his forearms resting on the kitchen isle were you two were seated since a while. "Well, that's one way to do it."

"It's a good way through. 'Cause it worked." He shook his head lightly in disbelief, still grinning while you took a sip from your hot cocoa. The liquid flowing down your throat pleasantly. His blue eyes catched yours as you set the cup on the isle and suddenly something shifted. His eyes held a glint that you hadn't seen before. They seemed lighter, sparkling in a way.

Bucky leaned a bit closer and you weren't sure if he even noticed it himself, his gaze dropping lower for a second and your heart skipped in ancipaction. There was clearly something unspoken lingering in the air, not able to be missed. A desire, longing. Yet there was also the unfiltered reality in the back of your mind, your inner voice arguing to lean back or away. To do anything to break this spell that lay over you two. Bucky was older than you and, the even more important part, he was your father's best friend.

But then his lips brushed yours. A barely there touch, so featherlight that yours eyes falled closed on their own accord, and the voice got quieter. He gave you the chance to pull away and simultaneously tested the waters. You gathered your courage and then you pressed your lips against his.

Bucky breathed quietly out and then he kissed you fully, his hands finding their way on your cheeks, holding your face delicately while your lips melted together in a gentle symphony full of longing and desire. You didn't know how long the kiss lasted, but when he parted your hands had a soft grip on his shirt. God, you have never been kissed like this before.

"We will figure this out.", he whispered quietly after moments were your inner voice had come back. His words were a promise that this wasn't just a fleeting thing. That they would be more. That he wanted more.

[slut4sugu]

𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄!

! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒. summary: what’s it like dating sugar daddy geto! ! 𓈒ㅤׂㅤ𐙚 ࣪ ⭒. description + warnings: age gap (reader is in her mid 20’s geto is in his early 30’s), mentions of phone sex, fingering, mirror sex, fluff, black!femreader, mentions of masturbation

one of the girls . back to masterlist

sugardaddy!geto who fell inlove with your beauty the moment he saw you drinking your problems away at a club, you were the prettiest angel he had ever seen. Yet your eyes lacked a shine in them, so he decided to cheer you up. Once he found out that your dead end job was the cause of your misery he gave you an opportunity to leave that life behind.

sugardaddy!geto who’s heart melted to see your eyes sparkle at the idea of being able to quit your degrading job as a waitress and have your own penthouse downtown. Though you then questioned why he would do this for you, “Because I couldn’t stand to see such a pretty thing like you drinking your life away. Now..what do you say to dinner at 8?”

sugardaddy!geto who picks you up from your apartment in a porche, stepping out of it to open the car door for you. “You look beautiful, I might just have to take you out every night.” You did put in your best to look the part for a high end restaurant, a emerald green dress hugged your figure complimenting your brown skin quite nicely. You did in a long time feel beautiful.A shy smile graced your lips as you got in the luxurious vehicle.

sugardaddy!geto who couldn’t stop looking at you all night, your gorgeous smile and curls were just too cute. The way you looked around the restaurant like a child seeing Christmas for the first time was worth every penny. Your smile was worth every penny.

“You know this could be a daily occurrence for you, a girl like you shouldn’t have to work so hard to have a glimpse at what life can offer.” Geto stated, you hated to agree with him but he was right, you did work hard wayyy to hard to not deserve a little spoiling from a hot rich guy. “What do you mean?” Gently taking your hand in his, his grey eyes looked into your brown ones with love and concern. “I mean I could take care all of your needs, in return you could spend some time with me.”

sugardaddy!geto who took you on your first shopping spree the day after your dinner date, who takes you to all the designer boutiques for outfits for your future dates & outings. “Darling don’t look at the price, if you want it get it.”

sugardaddy!geto who sees you as a goddess, as his angel, a slice of heaven that he gets to see every day

sugardaddy!geto who is starts to see you as more than his sugar baby after a while, the way you say his name starts to become addictive, the way you smile at him, how you hug him tightly after getting surprised with flowers.

sugardaddy!geto who damn near cums in his pants from seeing your pretty face twisted up in pleasure as he pumped two digits in and out of your eager cunt. “Keep looking in that mirror if you wanna cum.”

sugardaddy!geto who loves decorating your brown skin in hickeys and bites, so when you wake up in his bed and he’s not there you have a little reminder of the events from last night <33

sugardaddy!geto who jerks his cock to the sound of you moaning on his phone, your pretty voice whining and pleading for him to come home from his meeting and to fuck you into his mattress.

sugardaddy!geto who would give you the world on a platter if it meant seeing that sparkle in your eyes.

[huggybearluvr]

"So let me get this straight you've been dating some hockey star from Vancouver for the last six months in secrecy..." you trailed off taking in the dump of words that just spilled from your best-friends mouth, " And now we are spending a two weeks at his families lake house in Michigan?"

"Yes, Quinn invited the both of us to come to Michigan for two weeks this summer," She stated as she pulled out both of your suitcases.

"Wait- how does he know I exist?"

"We've been dating for six months and you don't think I've told him about my bestfriend?"

"fair, when are we leaving?"

"Tomorrow ten am," She smiled as she passed you your suit case.

"So now im dropping everything to come to Michigan with you?" You asked.

"Yes." She smiled happily dragging her suit case to her room as you did the same.

-

The next morning you woke up to Gianna banging on your bedroom door that you had to leave in 20 minutes if you wanted to stop and get star-bucks.

You quickly pulled the comforter off you slipping into some sweatpants a tank grabbing your zip up just incase it was cold on the plane.

You dragged your suitcase out following Gianna down to her car. You both loaded up the jeep heading off the the airport.

-

"Here's your ticket, I don't think we can sit together since I missed early check in," She frowned handing you the aisle seat leaving her with the middle. She knew you hated the middle and preferred the aisle.

You took the ticket following her up to the boarding line.

You checked in with the attendant and headed onto the plane. You found your seat throwing you carry on into the overhead and tucking your back pack under the seat infront of you.

You looked over to see a women in her mid 30's at the window and you secretly crossed your fingers that no one would have the middle seat.

Gianna was only a few rows behind you squished between too teenagers. You definitely got the better seat. As boarding was coming to a close you watched as two men about your age rushed onto the plane.

They walked the aisles looking for their seats. The taller blonde boy, smiled down at you, "I'm in the middle," He spoke softly.

You smiled back nodding as you stood up to allow him into his seat.

Once he had settled into his seat you sat back down. Opting to put your headphones on and relax.

-

As your plane had landed at the airport you waited for them to allow you to get off.

Once the flight attendant had given you the go ahead you stepped out into the aisle.

"I think I might have thrown my stuff on top of your's if you want me to grab mine first?" The boy beside you asked following you stepping into the aisle.

"Sure," You smiled as you stepped back allowing him to remove his bad. He placed it down in the walk way beside him, before reaching back up to grab you bag. He placed it down gently infront of you with a smile.

"I'm Luke by the way," He smiled.

"y/n," You smiled back before turning to look behind you Gianna was stuck a few rows back. 'meet me outside.' you mouthed to her as you followed the line of people off the plane.

Gianna had joined you outside the plane and you both made your way to the baggage claim.

"Quinn is picking us up he should be somewhere around here," She spoke looking around the baggage claim area.

"Okay, I think ours is over there," You said pointing over to the claim area for your flight.

The pair of you headed over that way when Gianna spotted her boyfriend and ran over there.

You watched as she clung to him as if it were her last chance to ever hug him. You laughed to yourself as you walked over.

"Y/n, this is Quinn, Quinn this is Y/n," She spoke turning to face you as his arm draped around her waist.

"It's nice to meet you, I've heard a lot about you," He said with a soft smile.

"It's nice to meet you too," You smiled.

"Alright you two stay in this area and find your bags, I am gonna go try and find my brothers, they were on your flight," He smiled as he turned to walk around the claim area to find his two brothers.

"So, how was your flight?" You asked knowing that she was squished between to teenage boys who had to get multiple warnings from the flight attendants to quiet down.

She rolled her eyes before answering, "it was terrible, how about you? I saw you chatting it up with the guy next to you," She smiled nudging your arm.

"Just friendly, Gianna, I am never gonna see that guy ever again," You spoke as you pulled your bag off the belt.

Once Gianna had hers you returned to the spot Quinn had told you guys to stay around. It wasn't long before he reemerged through the crowd to boys following behind him.

"Gianna, Y/n, these are my brothers Jack and Luke," He spoke as he returned to Giannas side taking her suitcase from her.

You looked up from your phone to see the boy you had met earlier, he was already looking at you, you smiled softly.

"Hey it's nice to meet you guys," Gianna spoke with a smile.

"Lukey, here has already met Y/n, isn't that right Luke," jack spoke playfully hitting his younger brother on the back as he cheeks turned a pale shade of pink.

---

Series Masterlist

[certifiedcodbabygirl]

Hi Sweet🖤

could I please request some Bodyguard!Price x Socialite chubby f!reader?

• He's late 30's, she's mid - late 20's

• despite being a socialite, reader is anything but social. She's introverted house plant with hobbies including being alone and keeping to herself.

• She's been through bodyguards before , because she hated being treated like a daft rich person so Price comes in under the impression she's spoilt and impossible until he sees a whole different story.

• Price goes from 'I'm gonna hate her guts' to 'I want to be in her guts'

• Please add forced proximity (living together), and give them that teeeension 🥺

• nsfw is 1000% welcome if you're keen.

There's no rush for this at all if you decide to do it, whenever is convenient for you is fine by me. Please write this however you feel is most comfortable to you. I'll appreciate it all the same 🫰🏼

Thank you🥀

Sorry this is late!

At first he doesn't like you. Flat out. Retiring early from the military caused him to need a sort of transition job so he figured he'd take on being a bodyguard. He definitely has the credentials, so why not?

He's not a fan of rich people, but hey, money is money. What he wasn't expecting was to be set up with a pretty thing like you. It almost made it worse. He figured, given your lifestyle, that you'd be like the others.

You're quiet, direct, and come off a stuck up. You never keep conversation going, and he doesn't bother to finish. It's his job. He keeps you safe. That is all he is required to do.

It all changes when you go to a social gathering, a political part to celebrate a successful election as of late. He hadn't seen you in a social setting before until now. You're just like how you are at home; Quiet, reserved, not talking unless needed to.

He realizes your behavior towards him isn't one of defiance, or being stuck up, but one of nature. He realizes it's possible social anxiety. It would make sense. You were pressured from a young age to be surrounded by people, standards higher for you than other people, every movement being watched.

His attitude towards you changes almost immediately. He makes you tea (or whatever drink you like most) for you before you wake up. He watches tv with you in the living room, allowing you to warm up to his presence in a more comfortable way. Conversation starts slowly, but eventually you become close. You apologize for being so closed off and unwelcoming at the beginning, but he reassures you that he understands and came to realize you just needed time.

It isn't until around 8 months that he begins to notice you. He walks by your room to the guest room (basically his now) when he hears a whimper from yours. It doesn't sound like pain, but he pauses outside your door just incase. It isn't until he slows his breathing that he notices the soft buzzing coming through the door. Your whimpers sound more strained, trying to keep quiet but you let out a moan as you gently swipe the vibrator over your clit. You turn it off, panicked that he may have heard you, but turn it back on when you notice there's no noise.

He stays for your climax, unable to move if he wanted. His cock is restrained in his boxers, painfully tight. You sound so pretty as you cum, he can't help but his heads feels all fuzzy. He quickly walks to the guest room, not even bothering to quiet his footsteps. He cums so hard that night, imagining your pretty lips wrapped around him. All spread out below him, pussy gripping his like a fucking vice.

A month passes by since that night and he can't help but get hard every time your hand brushes against his arm, unable to keep his mind off of if that's the hand you used. He excuses himself every time to go wait for his cock to soften before being around you again. It gets to a point where you begin to think he doesn't enjoy being around you.

He overhears you talking to a friend on the phone about how he's been distant. You admit to her that you like him and don't understand why he's acting like this again. His stomach sinks a little when he realizes it's upsetting you, but he walks away before you see him.

Later that night, he hears the buzzing coming from your room again, but it's different this time. Your whimpers come out as pants, his name tumbling from your mouth as you begin to feel the knot in your stomach form. He groans and pushes the door open. You yelp and try to cover yourself but he yanks the blanket from you, pulling you to the edge of the bed by your ankles.

"You been hidin this from me, love?" He taunts, spreading your legs and taking a look at your pussy, "Look at how wet she is. Why're you hidin her from me? It's okay, I'll treat her good" He says before getting on his knees and showing you how much he wants you.

[meara-eldestofthemall]

Is DC at the stage where they're unwilling to let time flow anymore (a 'Time Crisis' if you will), and the only way anyone's age changes now is through 'time shenanigans'.

Because there has to be an upper limit for how old they will allow a character to be - e.g. (For several reasons) They will never allow Bruce Wayne to turn 50.

You got it in one. Time is now an enemy that needs to be kept at bay, Why?

DC (and other comic books) have to keep their characters within a believable age range. It’s why DC has never allowed their characters to age in real time. They can’t and still keep them viable as Intellectual Properties.  Batman premiered in Detective Comics Comics #27 in March of 1939. Since Bruce was supposed to be somewhere around 22 to 25 years old at that time, he would pushing 130 years of age today.

The biggest canonical age-up in the Batfamily was Dick Grayson. Because of the 1966 Batman TV show he went from a ‘tween to a teen overnight. This was back in the days when I was young, meaning that comic books weren't really taken very seriously. The TV show was a huge success, so DC climbed on board the gravy train and tried to match as much in the comics as they could. 

 After the show ended in 1969, DC wisely realized that keeping an 18 or 19 year old in this costume...

was a truly bad idea (if not soft core porn at that point). Which is why Dick changed to Nightwing.

Dick was about 20 years old (maybe a little older at this point). He was a young adult but an adult by anyone’s standards. Dick then went to Bludhaven where he got not only his very own city to protect but better fashion sense as well. 

What this inevitably meant is that Bruce had to be aged up as well, leaving Bruce in his early 30′s when Dick became Nightwing. Batman got a series of Robins. First Jason..

Who was with him for 2 to 3 years. Batman is now early to mid 30s when Jason dies. Then Tim...

who started as Robin at 13 and stayed Robin until 17. That’s another 4 years. Bruce is now in his very late 30s. Then Stephanie...

who stayed Robin for all of 2 minutes before Tim was Robin again.

Bruce was in his very late 30s when Damian, age 11, came into the picture.

Four more years passed and not only did Tim go from being Red Robin to Robin again but he lost, then gained back a year of age. Damian went from 11 to 13 years of age, making Bruce in his early 40s.

The point is that each new iteration of Robin ages Bruce up. He’s now supposed to be in his early 40s. He’s beginning to feel age creeping up on him. A part of Bruce is finally ready to accept that he physically won’t be able to continue as Batman in another decade or so.

This is why the “Time Crisis” as you call it is vital. Batman has to be kept no older than he is now to be believable. It’s also why Damian got an upgrade to 13 but Tim is going to stay 17 basically forever. Yes, DC can pull some time shenanigan’s and let Damian and Tim get maybe a year older each but that’s it. 

The bottom line is simple. Batman and family are the biggest money makers DC currently has. If rumors are to be believed, Batman and Co are the only real money makers DC has. They’re pulling no end of crazy storyline stuff with Bruce but the one thing they cannot do is make him older. As someone in her late 60s I can tell you from experience that your early 40s are when you have the unpleasant awakening that you can’t push yourself like you used to. Sickness hits you hard. It takes longer to recover from injuries. You’re reminded of the wear and tear you put on your body over the years when you get out of bed each morning. 

“Time Crisis” isn’t really a crisis. It’s simply acknowledging that Batman isn’t Superman or Wonder Woman. He’s Bruce Wayne and Bruce Wayne may be the pinnacle of what a normal human can reach but he’s not an alien or a demi-god. Bruce Wayne is only mortal and all mortals fade with time. 

[taylormarieee]

~Drunk in Love~

Summary: You and Daryl are both skeptical of Alexandria. So you two go out for a smoke and a drink and things get a little heated.

Word Count:1.2k

Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Fem!Reader

Warnings: P in V Sex, Unprotected Sex, Oral (F reciving), Fingering, Creampie, 18+ Minors DNI, High and Drunk Sex, References and Use of Alcohol, Plot then Sex

You and the group arrive at Alexandria. You are very skeptical but you trust Aaron. He seems nice and you like him. The gates open and you are met by some dude who's name is Nicholas.

"Hand over your Weapons" Nicholas says.

"Ugh I dont think were gonna do that buddy. If we wanted to kill you we would have done it by now." You say shifting your weight.

"Yea uhm were gonna be holding on to these. Got a problem with that?" Rick asks tilting his head.

"No-No that won't be necessary. Were gonna let you keep your weapons. Your all gonna have to talk to Deanna though." Aaron says.

"Who's Deanna!" Abraham says. Everybody's Attention is on Aaron and Nicholas as we wait for them to explain.

"I'll take you to her. For now I will show you where will be staying." Aaron smiles walking away. " Follow me."

You walk next to Carl and steal his hat. He pushes you and easily grabs his hat back. "Cheater." You say smiling. "Thief!" he says laughing as well.

You all enter the house and is getting Interviewed by Deanna one by one. After You all are Interviewed, Deanna announces she's having A house party. You didn't want to go but you wanted to get a little drunk so you went.

Everybody looked nice, Rick had shaved his beast of a beard, and Rosita dressed nicely, same as Abraham. We all looked nice. I had noticed that Daryl wasn't here with everybody else. I made a mental note to go look for him later. I walked up to the bar and grabbed drink after drink.

"Hey Rick! Wanna drink." I ask giggling. "Sweetheart? Are you ok? Yah really shouldn't be drinkin this much." He says smiling walking over to you.

"But it's a party!! So let's party!" I say happily. Rick shook his head, "Go find some water." He says holding your arm. "You know what? I'm gonna go find Daryl! Bye Ricky!" I say sluggishly walking out of Deanna's house with a Jack Daniels bottle and two cups.

You walk to the house the group and you are staying at. You walk closer to see someone standing smoking on the poarch. You immediately know who that long haired, vest wearing man is. Daryl Dixon. You've had a crush on daryl ever since the Prison when he was finally stepping up and providing for the group. You've always found daryl attractive but you never thought the feelings were mutual.

Sometimes there were looks and glances, Touches that lingered to long, and tension in the air you could cut it with a knife. You walk up the steps and see Daryl wip around knife in hand.

"Woah buddy, It's just me. I come bearing gifts!" I say shaking the cups and Jack Daniels bottle. He smiled and laughed.

"Ya too young for tha. Whatcha know 'bout Jack Daniels?" He said walking towards you grabbing a cup. " Number one I'm not too young Mr. Dixon and Two I know alot about Jack Daniels." I say giggling

Daryl grumbles at you and scrunches his nose. " Wanna smoke wit me?" He asks taking a puff of the Cigarette.

"Yea sure!" You say grabbing the Cigarette.

After about an hour or two of drinking and smoking you both are extremely wasted, talking about nonsense.

"Ok ok!" You say giggling, " your turn! "

"I don't like this game. It's stupid." He says chuckling.

"C'mon Daryl you have to have another question you wanna ask me?!" You turn to look at him and smile nudging his arm to go on. "Ok fine. Have you ever fucked an older guy? Not like old old but like mid 20's Early 30's?" Daryl asks with a smirk.

"Oh god Daryl! You sicko! I am 26!" I say shocked.

"Still ain't answer ma question." He says smiling. You roll your eyes and chuckle.

"Fine! No Daryl I have not." You say kicking his foot. He grunts, "Well imma have to change that." He says grabbing your face to puff smoke in your mouth. You gladly open your mouth to receive it only to be met with an wet, opened mouth kiss.

You grab his neck and pull him closer receiving a groan from the man. He grabs your waist pulling you closer. You back up as he pushed you forward to the front door.

Your hands fumble around to find the door knob. after 2 minutes of struggle you finally open the door drunkenly giggling and laughing the whole way up the stairs to your bedroom.

The moment that bedroom door closed you two couldn't keep your hands off one another. Tearing off each others clothes, slowly but surely making your way to the bed. You plop down on the bed and daryl makes his way on top of you.

Your dripping wet. Slick running from your slit all the way to your thighs and soaking the bed. Daryl pries your legs open staring at your glistening cunt. "Yer so pretty you know tha?" Daryl says biting his lip

Before you can even respond you feel Daryl's warm tongue on your clit flicking back and forth, up and down and all around. Your met with a wave of pleasure between your legs. He licks from your slit and back to your clit sucking roughly on your clit. You moan out in pleasure, screaming his name over and over again.

He grunts and moans against your pussy sending vibrations through your entire body. You feel the familiar feeling in your stomach. Feels like a bubble about to burts. You grab onto his beautiful brown locs pushing his head further in while trying to ride his face.

You feel your climax approaching very quickly. Your on the edge when you feel Daryl stick two fingers inside you. You let out an audible moan followed by a series of whimpers and you cum all over Daryls face and Fingers.

You start to giggle at the feeling of your release finally being released. Daryl comes to you face and kisses you passionately, while stroking his cock. "Yer ready f'me big girl?" He says lining his cock up with your entrance. You hastily shake your head whimpering, "Please Daryl. I wanna feel you Inside me!" you whimper out.

Daryl chuckles and begins penetrating you. You wince at the feeling considering how big he is but that pain soon forms into pleasure and you moan as he bottoms out. He slowly but roughly starts thrusting into you. His thrusts are rough aggressive and slow making you squirm under him whimpering and begging him to go faster.

"Please Daryl please go faster." You beg holding onto to his broad shoulders. "So Impatient sweet girl." Daryl teases. He listens to your pleas and proceeds to fuck you at a faster and rough pase showering you with praises.

"Look at ya baby, takin me so well."

"You keep squeezin me like tha and I won't last."

"Imma cum in this pretty, tight pussy."

"Oh yes daryl please come inside me!" You whine out feeling Daryl twitch inside. you. And with a few more rough, erratic thrusts, Daryl. shoots his load inside you. He rubs tight, rough circles on your clit making you cum in a matter of seconds. He fucks you through both of your highs. All that can be heard is your pants and giggles. You both cuddle up together as Daryl whispers sweet nothings in your ear while rubbing your thigh.

"I guess fucking an older guy is better." You say smiling. "Yer damn right it is!" Daryl grunts.

You two slowly drift off to sleep, awaiting for tomorrow in this suspicious place called Alexandria.

TAGLIST: @carlsdarling @murdadixon @pandorxxx @number1gal @rickswh0r3 @sinsandsweetness @neteyamyawne @neytirishottie @darylscvmdumpster @rickydixky @dirtydixonsgirl @darklydixon

[jonathansthickthighs]

My Sweetest Heart 4: Yandere! Fushiguro Toji x Reader

Description: You have a one night stand with Toji and now he won’t leave you alone.

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Part 3 here

Part 5 here

Trigger Warnings: nsfw, yandere, obsessive behavior, female reader, AFAB reader, toxic behavior, threats, jealousy, possessive behavior, desperate toji, smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up), daddy kink, alternative universe (no curses), age gap (reader is in her early 20’s, toji is in his mid 30’s), soft toji, toji has feelings, slight sub toji?

A/N: part five will the last one of this mini series. enjoy! :)

Not edited!

You sat by the window, as a deluge of thoughts flooded your mind. Absently, your fingers traced the delicate contours of the pearl necklace gifted to you by your boyfriend the evening before.

You had been dating for two months now and you couldn’t deny this was the pinnacle of emotional fulfillment you had ever experienced with a man. He treated you like no other, he was so soft and gentle with you, you never imagined a man being this good to you. His gestures of affection unfailingly making you swoon, gifting you flowers weekly, getting you whichever snacks you were craving, taking you new places, even buying expensive gifts like the one you had around your neck. You weren’t aware he could even afford such artifacts, ignorant to the fact that bounty hunters were so well off.

It had been a great couple of months, but you had to admit to yourself that you were terrified. You were scared of how things might turn out in the future. The subject of marriage and children has arisen in discussion with Toji several times, leaving you unsure of where you stood on your own desires. You hadn’t known each other long enough and up until now, your relationship may be all flowers and rainbows, but that didn’t guarantee your expectations would still be met in the future. After all, only two months have passed since you met Toji.

You weren’t against marriage at your age, but children, on the other hand, were a touchy subject to you. You wanted to enjoy your 20s to their fullest and you were aware that a child, while being a blessing, would also intake an enormous sense of responsibility that you weren’t ready for at this age. Toji had quite a few years on you and his desire for a family was evident. He had expressed his desire to having children before turning forty, leaving you around four more years to enjoy your stress free, youthful life.

You were broken out of your mental battle when you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind.

“You’ve been lost in thought an awful lot today, sweetheart. You’re not thinking about leaving me are you?” Toji joked as he nuzzled his face into your sensitive neck, eliciting a cascade of giggles from your lips.

“Of course not, Toji. I’d be a fool to throw away a cock like yours.” You quipped back, pivoting to encircle your arm around his shoulders in a tender embrace.

“Oh, so you’re just using me for my body? I’m hurt, baby.” Toji chuckled, closing the space between you as he pressed his lips to yours. He moved his lips against yours vigorously, squeezing your waist against his, rutting his hardening, clothed cock against your stomach. You immediately responded, kissing him with the same enthusiasm. You ran your hands through his narrow waist down to his bottom, giving him a playful squeeze, forcing a giggle out of him.

You cracked your eyes open, peaking at the clock on the wall behind Toji. As realization dawned, your eyes widened as you noticed the time, prompting you to swiftly detangle yourself from Toji’s embrace. “Shit, babe. I promised the girls I would meet them half an hour ago. I gotta go!” You exclaimed, making Toji tense up. As you began to depart, you were stopped by his firm grip on your arm, drawing you back against his chest.

“Come on, doll. Just a quicky, you’re already late anyways.” He insisted, trying to seem nonchalant about the situation. In reality, Toji fucking detested when you went out with your friends. The thought of men approaching you, trying to flirt with you, offering to pay for your drinks made him lose his mind. Hell, the mere thought of other men looking at you was enough to drive him over the edge. His darkest thoughts were screaming to lock you up in a place were he could be the only one to look at you; the only way those thoughts dissipated was with the image of you recoiling in horror at him. The thought made his chest tighten, your hatred was something he would never be able to live with.

Despite the infrequency of your meetups with your friends, his desire to wanting you all to himself was insatiable. Never had he imagined himself yearning so fervently for a woman’s attention; it had always been the other way around, but for you, he was willing to beg on his knees for an ounce of your attention.

“As much as I want to, I’ve already ditched my friends too many times to be with you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.” You answered apologetically pressing a kiss on his cheek. Toji tried to mask his disappointment, but this time he wasn’t as good at hiding his expression.

“Please, sweetheart. I want you so bad, can’t you feel it?” Toji begged with frustration evident in his voice, grabbing your hand to place it on top of his raging bulge. He began using your hand to rub himself, grunting at the pleasurable sensations you were bringing him with just your hand. “Please…” He pleaded weakly, desperation lacing his voice.

You groaned, feeling defeated as your panties started to dampened at the sight. You were quick to attach your lips into his parted ones, tongues fighting each other as you continued teasing his cock over his sweatpants. You separated your lips from his causing him to whine at the loss of your soft lips.

Once you decided you had teased his cock enough, you tugged his waistband down, freeing his aching cock. You bit your lip as you tentatively stroked his cock in slow motions, gaining a hiss from him. Running you thumb over the reddened tip, you gathered the oozing precum, spreading it over the rest of his shaft. You wanted him, badly.

“Tell me what you want, Toji.” You whispered, peppering open mouthed kissed all over his neck. He couldn’t bring himself to respond as he started thrusting his hips into your hand. Having you jerk him off with your hands was something else, he couldn’t have done it better himself. Your hands were so much softer than his, the velvety skin of your hand wrapping around him could almost make him finish then and there. “Answer me, Toji.” You demanded, squeezing his cock enough to catch his attention.

“I n-need to f-fuck you, sweetheart.” Toji managed to utter out.

Smirking, you responded. “Then beg for it.”

Toji groaned, throwing his head back as your painfully slow stroking continued. He would never admit it, but having you be this demanding was a huge turn on to him. Believing submission was characteristic of women only, he never let himself experience anything remotely close. All his life he had been the one in control, never letting his guard down for any woman. You unveiled facets of him he never imagined existed.

“Please. I n-need to feel your pussy!” Toji beseeched impatiently and you rewarded him with a radiant smile. You released his cock from your grip, guiding him towards the bed. Pushing him on the bed, you began to undress slowly, pulling the straps from you dress down to reveal your tits to him.

You grabbed your breasts, massaging them and playing with your nipples, putting on a show for Toji. He gawked at you lustfully as he reached for his cock to stroke himself as he watched you. Playfully, you slapped his hand away. “I didn’t give you permission to do that, you pervert.” You retorted, giving him a sly smile.

Toji’s mouth was agape in disbelief, bewildered at this side of you. “I am not a pervert, sweetheart!” He exclaimed, failing to suppress his laugh.

You giggled before responding. “Oh yeah? You’re stroking your cock to this defenseless girl standing in front of you. Does that not make you a pervert?”

“Well that defenseless girl is touching herself like a slut in front of me. I’m pretty sure she wants me to jerk off to her.” He replied, starting to tug on his cock once again.

You bit your lip, enjoying the way his gaze felt on you. “I think you might be right this time.” You admitted as you decided to finish undressing for him. It was impossible for Toji to get tired of looking at your delectable body. He could easily make himself come by merely admiring your nudity.

Once all your clothes were discarded, you climbed on top of him. Settling yourself on top of his shaft, you moaned at the contact your sensitive clit made with his cock. You began grinding your heat on his cock, making him groan. You were so wet for him, you couldn’t wait any longer to have him inside you.

“You want me to ride your cock, daddy?” You suggested seductively as you continued teasing the both of you.

“Fuck. Yes, baby, please.” He nodded, eager to feel your tight, warm snatch engulf him in its delightful glory.

You wasted no time grabbing his cock, pressing him against your wet entrance before lowering yourself carefully onto him, making the two of you moan. You still weren’t accustomed to his size, so you needed some time before you could move comfortably. Continuing to lower yourself until he was fully sheathed inside your heat, you placed your hands on his chest for support. Toji grabbed the fat your ass as he threw his head back onto the bed. He was certain he would never tire of this feeling, your pussy was simply made for him.

“Pussy’s s’good, baby.” Toji slurred, relishing how tightly your cunt wrapped around him. The sight of you riding his hard cock was breathtaking. He noticed you it had gotten comfortable once you started slowly moving. You rose your hips until only his tip was remaining before lowering yourself onto him to a halt, making him grunt at the sudden piquancy he felt. After that you proceeded to ride his cock in swift, steady motions, stroking his cock with your dripping pussy. He couldn’t help himself from feeling hypnotized by your stunning form as you rode him. Your eyes squeezed shut, mouth agape as your tits bounced with each stroke. The sight was was orgasmic.

“Your cock is so deep inside me, Toji!” The sweet moans and screams leaving your lips were like music to his ears. The way you said his name turned him on to the extent he would do absolutely anything to hear it come out of your mouth.

He groaned as you worked his cock, sliding his hands up from your bum, making his way through your waist until he finally reached your breasts. He kneaded them thoroughly, making you let out a moan. You sped up your pace, the squelching noise of your thrusts meeting, filling the room. Toji leaned forward taking one of your perky nipple into his warm mouth, suckling like he was starved.

You whimpered at the stimulation you were feeling, as Toji gave your other nipple the same treatment. Continuing to jump on his cock like a madwoman, you could feel your orgasm approaching. When Toji felt your walls starting to tighten around him he grabbed a hold of your waist, holding you still before he started thrusting his generous cock into your sopping heat.

“Oh my— fuck! I’m gonna come all over your cock, Toji!” You cried out, feeling your pussy clench around his pulsing cock.

“T-that’s it, sweetheart. Use me. M-make yourself come with my cock. Let me hear you.” Toji uttered out shakily as he continued to stimulate your sensitive nipples, grunting into them. The prominent noise in the room being the sound of the slapping of your skins and your moans and pants of satisfaction.

You moaned loudly when you felt your orgasm arrive. “Yes. Yes. Yes! Toji!” With that, you let it all out, throwing your head back, your dripping pussy clenching deliciously around his cock. His thrusts didn’t seize, continuing to drill your pussy with the need to reach his own release.

He called out your name as he felt his orgasm approaching. “I’m gonna fuckin’ come, sweetheart. Are you gonna take it, baby?” Toji announced as he watched your beautiful face, you were in a daze, your eyes half lidded looking at the man that was causing you such pleasure.

“I want all of it, gimme your cum, T-Toji.” You managed to slur out, using the last of your strength to hold yourself up on his chest. That was all it took for Toji to start thrusting up into your pussy erratically, your clenching pussy making him quiver out his orgasm.

“You’re fucking mine!” Toji growled, throwing his head back as your wet cunt milked his semen out of him, sending it deep into your womb. Get fucking pregnant! His intrusive thoughts made themselves present as his thrust began getting sloppy, his legs trembling in ecstasy.

“A-ah, I love you so much, sweetheart.” Toji stuttered out as he finished releasing inside of you.

Shocked, you looked at a drowsy looking Toji. “Did you just—?”

Toji parted his lips to speak, only to close them once more. Those words escaped him unwittingly, unleashing them from the depths of his pent up emotions, before he could muster the restraint to withhold them. Internally, he was having a battle with himself, trying to make it seem like an accident. He harbored uncertainty about how you would feel about him after only knowing him for two months. He had loved you since before you even knew of his existence and these feelings kept accumulating over time inside him; he couldn’t stand it any longer, so his body reacted for him.

“I love you.” He repeated without breaking eye contact with you. The shock on your face was evident, sending a tremor of apprehension through him. He was terrified of you never loving him back, he dreaded the prospect of your affection remaining beyond his grasp forever.

“I-I love you too, Toji.” Toji’s gaze widened in surprise, his eyes dilated at the unexpected revelation from you. His heart felt like it was going to burst and his cheeks were tinted pink. The happiness he felt surpassed anything he had ever deemed attainable. His mind was on a frenzy, he finally achieved what he wanted most in life. Incredulity washed over him, this must surely be a dream. She loves me back. She loves me back. She loves me back. She loves me.

Toji couldn’t suppress the smile creeping to his face. He didn’t thinking his heart could beat any faster until he watched you smile right back at him before breaking eye contact with him. You could even look at him straight in the eye and your face had gotten an angry shade of red from the mixture of the sex and the confession. Such a shy little thing. Even after two months of knowing each other you were still shy around him. He thought it was lovely.

“You have no idea how happy you make me, sweetheart. I was scared you wouldn’t love me back.” Toji admitted, reaching out to caress your soft cheek. His cock had been inside you through all of this, so he decided to slowly pull it out, making the two of you hiss from the overstimulation.

“I do, Toji. I’m deeply in love with you.” You revealed, leaving Toji astonished and with his heart dancing chaotically in his chest. You leaned into his touch, closing your eyes, enjoying the intimate moment. You never anticipated falling in love agains so soon, yet it unfolded before you as if ordained by faith. You thought meeting Toji was destiny. Climbing off of him, you snuggled to his side.

“Alright, alright, Toji. You’ve once again, managed convinced me to stay home with you.” Home. Toji loved the sound of that. He couldn’t wait to have his own little house with you, he had been taking up extra bounties to be able to afford one. As soon as you accepted his marriage proposal, he would buy a home for just the two of you. Although he was ready to have children with you right now, he knew you weren’t keen on the idea having children at your age. Toji’s not sure if he can honor your wishes, but he would try. Unless the situation called for other means.

Toji looked smug at your comment, fully aware that if you had decided to still go out, he would try to convince you to stay any other way. “You know you love staying in with me.” Toji replied, pulling you tighter into his chest causing you to let out a giggle.

You tried to detangle yourself from him, but his grip on you impeded it.

“I need to use the restroom, stop being clingy.” You quipped with a laugh, making him loosen his grip on you. Toji felt a little hurt. Were you really joking or did you truly think he was clingy? Insecurity flooded his mind as he watched you head to the restroom.

His thoughts were interrupted by some distant vibrations. Toji sat up from the bed to see your phone vibrating in the nightstand. His eyes narrowed as he stared at the caller ID. It was one of your friends, these were the people trying to steal you from him.

“Hey.” He answered coldly, the other line was silent for a second.

“Um, Toji?” The girl asked confused at not being greeted by her best friend as per usual.

“What do you want?” Toji questioned discourteously, not caring about feigning kindness with her this time. He was going to take any means necessary to drive you away from your friends. Your friends were but vermin, unworthy of the mere touch if your presence. Not an ounce of trust did he have for them. The thought of them trying to cloud your mind with doubts about your relationship ignited an indescribable fury within him. These women were going to taint your perception of him and he would not stand for that. Not to mention, most of them were single and he hated the image of them manipulating you into acting like you are as well.

He could tell your friend was taken a back by his bluntness, bewildered by his change in charisma. Every time they had met he always appeared so courteous and seemingly genuine, she did not expect this attitude from your boyfriend. “I-It’s just— we’ve been waiting for over an hour and a half and we got worried. Is she going to make it?”

Toji chuckled darkly before lowering his voice, assuring you didn’t hear him. “Listen here, you stupid bitch. Haven’t you gotten the clue she doesn’t want to see you anymore? She’s always cancelling your little outings and making up excuses to not see you. It’s been two months since you last saw her, get a fucking grip and accept it. She’s not your friend anymore.” He spat out harshly, earning a audible gasp from your friend.

“D-did she really tell you that?” Your friend stuttered in disbelief. It was unbeknownst to her you felt this way. Were you really truly willing to cast aside all these years of friendship? She had known you for so many years, it was hard to believe you felt this way.

Toji hummed in response. “Are you fucking dumb? I’m her boyfriend, she’s obviously going to confide everything in me. I’m just doing her a favor by letting you know, so stop waisting our time and stay out of our lives.” Toji replied, a threatening tone in his voice. Should this endeavor fail, he would be forced to resort to drastic measures, but hopefully the message was unequivocally conveyed. He could hear your friend sniffle on the other line, making him smirk maliciously.

“You asshole! Tell that bitch to never talk to me again!” Your friend sobbed hysterically before hanging up, making Toji chuckle in amusement. He didn’t appreciate the name-calling, but he opted to overlook it, comforted by the knowledge that he would never have to endure her presence ever again.

Toji returned your phone to its originally resting place before reclining back into the bed, allowing the comfort of the mattress to envelop him. He pondered to himself as he heard you starting to run a shower. He bore the weight of knowing that this would impact you deeply and he despised himself for causing you pain in this manner. Yet, he remained resolute, convincing himself it was necessary for the wellbeing of your relationship. How else were you supposed to tend for him and your children if your friends were always stealing your attention?

He observed you emerge from the bathroom, reaching to grab your phone. “I should call them to tell them I’m not going to make it again.” You spoke as you started to unlock you phone. Toji placed his hand on top of your screen and you stood there taken aback.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. Your friend called while you were in the bathroom and I let them know.” Toji responded with a smile, his gaze tender and affectionate as you reciprocated his smile.

“Thanks, Toji. You’re the sweetest.” You showed your gratitude by pressing a kiss to his cheek. He couldn’t help the guilt that took over him, he knew how much your friends meant to you.

“Shall we shower together?” Toji suggested playfully —attempting to keep his mind off what he had just done— grabbing your phone from your hand and placing it back on the nightstand. His eyes ranked through your still nude form, moistening his lips with the tip of his tongue, his cock rising back to life. Yeah, your pretty little body would make him forget in no time. You bit your lip, agreeing as he closed the gap between you, bestowing upon you a fervent kiss filled with longing.

Now that you had Toji you wouldn’t need anybody else.

[penvisions]

services requested {chapter three}

Pairing: Older! Joel Miller x Sugar Momma! Reader

Summary: Secrets are the undoing of everything good. That much you know for damn sure.

Word Count: 6.9k

Warnings: no outbreak au, modern au, age gap (joel is mid 50's, reader is late 20's / early 30's), reader is more of an oc written in the x reader style, reader is described to have a scar and tattoos, mommy vibes, reader see's joel and knows she wants to provide for him, joel is older and tired, power dynamics, sexual undertones, instant connection, mutual pining, flirting, casual touches, mutual attraction, angst, family drama, strained family dynamics, mentions of past drug use, mentions of past trauma, mentions of physical attack (very brief), allusions to predatory behavior, allusions to power imbalances within the tattoo world, verbal threat, argumentative language, joel's sharp tongue, reader is depcited to have a manic anxiety attack, angst, we also get a nickname reveal in this one!

Fic Notes: please, if you have any qualms about the setting of this fic, do not reblog or comment with hate. my dms are open for discussion if you feel like you need to say anything. let's be respectful going into a new year, there are ample warnings and you are in charge of the content you consume

A/N: hi, i'm back with chapter three for y'all! ♡ feel free to (kindly) holler at me once you're done ♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || navigation || ko-fi

You’re in the middle of recanting of a funny story from one of the last camping trips you took, giggling at the memory of over a dozen wild turkeys running through your campsite and taking the unfastened rainfly with them when you hear the bell ding over the front door.

The deep rumble of Joel’s voice says your name and the two assistants at the front desk snap out of whatever they’re doing to greet him and tell him that you’re in the middle of a session. He assures them that he knows you, knows he’s coming to visit and then you hear the soft footsteps of your personal assistant as they approach through the curtains that hide the workstations from the entryway.

“Grey, there’s a really handsome man asking after you. Says he knows you.”

A gooey smile overtakes your lips as you picture Joel in the other room, standing tall and displaying confidence you now know is a front when he’s in new environments. He is confident in his own settings, in his own element and there’s something endearing about the way he’s trying his best to maintain that as you expose him to new things and introduce him to a different facet of the world.

“That’s my friend, he can come on back. If you’re cool with that?” You pause in the shading you’re stippling through the finished outline of a fox skull, muted pastel colors to highlight it beside you on the table set up. At her quick nod you smile at the younger girl, she’s focused on her book while you work on her thigh, a large piece she had been excited to knock on all-in-one sitting.

“Mr. Miller, you can come on through!” You raise your voice enough for it to carry, you’re pretty sure he’s partially deaf in his right ear. There’s a deep scar there that lines his temple, probably from some work accident, but you haven’t asked about it in case it’s a sensitive spot. You know all about scars carrying heavy stories. Maybe he’ll share it one day, maybe you’ll share you own story about the one you know he glimpsed that first day you met him.

As soon as he walked through the curtain you could tell something is wrong. But you try to maintain your professional mask and push forward. If something is truly wrong, he’ll tell you. You trust him to be honest with you, to be real with you.

He’s not smiling and he looks entirely uncomfortable. Not even trying to be collected beyond his polite words. But he shouldn’t be, if the glimpse of his bullseye tattoo on his hand has anything to say about the setting. He gingerly sets the to-go cup on the non-plastic wrap part of your desk. Right by where your phone is propped up on a framed photo beside the tablet you’re using as a reference.

“Hi, hope the drive wasn’t too much? I know this is pretty deep downtown.” You watch him take in the room where he stands with his hands in his pockets. The gallery style frames that are everywhere, mixed with posters and paper artwork, the little figurines- it’s a mess really. Something you don’t particularly like about the scene, how overcrowded and decorated personal spaces are. But it is what it is, you wonder what he’s thinking as you rinse off the mixture of white and black you had been using. The hum of the tattoo gun is quiet, one of your charged ones in favor of the traditional one you love. It’s still in the box from moving, though now it’s nestled in your own garage instead of your parents.

“Was okay.” He barely get out, voice low and deep. Like he’s holding back what he really wants to say and it triggers alarm bells to ring in your head.  

“…everything…good?” You can see the same tension in his body from when you had taken him to the salon, but this…this was so much heavier on him now. His brother- it probably hadn’t gone well with his brother, but you weren’t about to ask him in front of people who he didn’t know and didn’t know him.

“Good.” Is his short reply and you feel dread settle like little pebbles in your stomach. That tone. It’s a lie, it’s forced. And your instincts fire up to the point where you’re turning the machinery off and tapping the girl on your table.

“Hey, gonna take a quick smoke break, let you get up and stretch your muscles. It’s been a good two hours to start.” She nods, putting her book down finally and watching as you spray a solution onto her skin and gently wipe it away with one of the many stacked paper towels you set up.

He’s stiff when you stand and stretch out the muscles of your back from hunching over. The cracks that sound in the air feel good as they release tension, but you don’t pay them any mind as you walk him back out to the entrance. There’s a filing cabinet for each artist here, four in total. And you can feel his eyes on your back as you dig around for the copies of the permits you made and their corresponding paperwork.

“The block I purchased is a few streets down. Closer to the south side, where the buildings begin to thin out. Didn’t want it to be too crowded for construction but also wanted to stay in the loop of downtown events. We can check it out when you have some downtime this week around your job, but there’s no pressure. I’ve got the deed and land survey here for you as well to go over.” Turning, you see his eyes flash to your hands, how they curl around the manilla folder so like the one you had handed him a few days ago.

“I’ll look it over, the permits are already submitted?”

“Yes, for building two shop fronts. One is classified as a prospective rental space while the other is classified as a business operation. My license was accepted by the state as a temporary transfer, but I won’t be able to operate a personal business until the application for an official one is approved. Didn’t really plan on moving until construction was completed anyway, need the cash flow to fund some of it and prove the validity of the business.”

“Got it, I’ll be in touch once I check on these. Drive by the lot too, check it out.”

“Oh, okay.” You feel a little dismissed as he takes the folder from you carefully, like he’s avoiding your hands brushing against each other. He’s avoiding your gaze too, now that you’re thinking about it.

“Probably be in touch before we leave for Philadelphia. But you have my number and work email if not.”

He’s turning away, just like that. And you let him. But not without reminding him he can use the card you gave him for any travel expenses he might need help with.

“Don’t worry, the trip is already budgeted for. But thanks.” His word sting, landing hard on your tense shoulders but all you can do is watch him walk out the door, voice caught in your throat.

It’s been more than a few days since you’ve heard from Joel. He never emailed or texted anything about the paperwork he came to get from the shop. He was there for a handful of minutes, when you thought he would at least stick around for a little tour and walkthrough of what kind of work you did.

Pushing the hurt away, you suspect it has something to do with how things went with his brother. At least, that’s all you had to go on and it was only a hunch. You know there’s strain there, an underlying strain to their connection. He offhandedly mentioned a nephew during one of your quiet conversations, but you don’t recall if it was a recent development or not.

Setting down the book you’re trying to read through, the last in a series of four romance novels by your favorite author, you pull out your laptop from the bedside table. The only thing on your mind as every description of a flawed but perfect man on the pages roves beneath your eyes is Joel.

Philadelphia.

That’s where Sarah lives, is attending graduate school and working an internship in her chosen field. He is so proud of her, so happy he could help give her the chance at an opportunity to do what she loves, even if the intricacies of social work are lost on you. You did a small guest spot at a shop there a few years ago, back before you had established yourself, back when you were still honing your skills. But you remember a lovely little spa that you had gone to with a friend, and you look them up now.

With the purchase of a package treatment for four, you attach the corresponding verification and specifications to a new email. The swoosh of it sending successfully helps to ease some of the anxiety built up inside you.

On the other side of town, Joel’s phone dings in his pocket. The new one that had arrived at his house that morning still in the box it showed up in. Already set with a tough case to withstand the elements of his job and a thin glass screen protector. His heart flutters even now as he recalls the beautiful looping scrawl of your cursive on a note saying he deserved a nice phone he didn’t have to worry about cutting his hand on. That you counted on those hands to create good things for you, and you wanted to ensure their safety moving forward.

A kind gesture and joke that both landed badly.

His phone was still an older version of the most popular brand, cracked screen but still worked. Your face when he used it in front of you for the first time had made him bark out a laugh. A comment about not being glued to his phone like you were meant he didn’t really care what it looked like as long as it worked.

Squinting through the dated prescription of his sunglasses, he sees your personal email address at the top of his notification list. With a grunt, he swipes open his mail app and opens up the message.

‘Mr. Miller,

I know you said you would be in contact and I don’t want to intrude on your business hours so this will be quick. Attached is a receipt and verification for a spa I loved in Philly. For you and your girls to enjoy during your visit, as well as Sarah’s boyfriend. There is also a reservation made at a restaurant that one of my friends is the sous chef at as well, a nice steak house. A birthday present and meal for you. I’m unsure of the date but wanted to make sure you received something from me.

Hope the day is good to you,

Grey’

With a scoff that burns through his throat, Joel stuffs the phone back into his pocket. He was still stewing on the fact that you’re married.

Sighing deeply, Joel sinks into the cushions of his worn leather couch. Ellie is in the kitchen putting some dinner together, planning it just right based on the response to when he anticipated being home- reasonably for once. He can hear her easy-going laughter and soft conversation with the girl she’s begun to bring around more.

It’s good for her, she deserves to be happy. Been dealt so much heartache that it’s about time she finds the joy in living and taking things into her own hands. He’s proud of her.

He’s bone tired, entire body taut with working all day in the summer sun. The deck is nearly complete, something he’s thrown himself into working on while admittedly giving you a wide berth. He’s not sure how to proceed. He’s already signed the contract and despite the… complication, he still really wants to fulfill it. You obviously need the help from someone who you trust to do the work, offering to hire him either way because you admire the way he went about renovating your parents’ house across the street.

He feels like a dick for the way he interacted with you last, when he visited the shop downtown. You were so excited for him to see where you worked and earn your name in a world he didn’t know much about. To show him around and talk about that part of your life. He recalls the way your glittering eyes dulled when he barely managed to get out short responses to your concerned questions. He had been too caught up in being blindsided by the new information about your personal life.

The demeanor he adopted was short, his eyes watching your every move to read more about you that he may not have originally caught on to. There was no ring on your finger, at least not one that could be mistaken for a wedding band. Perhaps it was by omission? A way to avoid the conversation.

He had acted like he didn’t know you, like you weren’t friends or at least on friendly terms. A business partner, that’s what he had acted like. Has been acting like.

His email in response to your kind one didn’t acknowledge the original content, instead he had forged ahead with a brief synopsis of how your permits all looked good and should be approved by the end of the month. He tried not to picture the crestfallen expression on your face as you opened the email to see his clipped words.

He’s furious. Two weeks later and he knows it’s because he’s hurt.

The photos of your wedding are the last post on your account. Marked a year and a half ago. He knows you moved here six months ago. He can see the fact that you’re online based on the little green dot beside your icon. You obviously still use the account, that much is clear even if you haven’t posted anything recently. You’re smiling in the photos, absolutely glowing in the arms of someone who looks exactly like the type you’d be into.

Younger, longer hair, slim waste and paired with lean muscles. Thick brows and suave sense of self, palpable even through the screen. How could he have been so stupid?

The betrayal of his own circumstance rears up, making him feel the whole ordeal again in bright, striking memories. Sarah couldn’t have been two years old, crying her little heart out in the living room as she had been set in her rocking cradle. The sounds of deep moans and slapping skin raining down the stairs like some sort of fucked up scene. Home from work and exhausted like he is now, but younger by more than two decades. He hadn’t even bothered to disturb them, the woman he called his wife and whoever she had deemed more important than her own daughter.

He had waited in the living room, soothing his little girl as best she could. Getting her to calm down while his heart raced and his mind moved a mile a minute wasn’t an easy thing, but he had managed to get her to sleep. That’s when they had both come down the stairs, her in her robe and him fastening his pants back up like he owned the damn place. Jokes and laughter bubbling up until they spotted him sitting on the couch cradling a relaxed Sarah.

It had been a mess, they were both high as kites. Something Joel had never expected from the woman he had married, had dated his entire senior year in high school and then into his first year of college. But when she realized she was pregnant, he dropped out and started working construction to bring in the money they would need. Allowing her the freedom to keep her own light schedule of classes to appease her parents and work part time at their grocery store.

He feels the sting of her words now, as he gazes down at photos of you smiling with another man. That he hadn’t been enough, that he didn’t give them enough of his time and attention. He wonders if your husband knows the offer you made him, maybe have made to others before. The words you said to him echo in his head alongside hers.

Other men have embellished their skill sets in order to receive the same offer.

He has to admit, he didn’t think you were the type of person to be so causal about an affair. But then again, he didn’t think his now ex-wife would’ve turned to illegal drugs to handle her postpartum manic depression and bring her drug dealer into their house to fuck him while their baby cried her head off.

It’s hard to reconcile the person he’s gotten to know over the last month with the shifting image of you now knowing the things that he does. The kind and spunky daughter of his best friend across the street. The one who he’s heard nothing but good things and gentle praise about for years since he moved into this neighborhood. Always saying that he’s raising two strong girls just like their own, and maybe when you visited, they could be friends.

Your soft smiles and harmless taunts make his chest hurt, he can’t tell if they were real or all some ploy to get him to soften up around you. He doesn’t feel like they had been fake, not the quiet words you both shared over cups of coffee and while he had you watch over the detailing of specific tasks to ensure it was what you wanted. The way you always made sure him and the crew had coffee and food, wanting them to not feel pressured about the deadline and still be able to focus fully on the tasks at hand.

It can’t have been fake, he saw your veneer of polite professionalism come down. He comforted you when he saw tears spring up in your eyes and you kept grabbing at the spot on your lower back where he knows there’s a scar.

You’re friends. You and him. At least…you were friends. He doesn’t feel like it at the moment, he feels like he’s caught his ex-wife cheating all over again. The feeling of your soft, gentle hands running through his hair surprise him, the way you had soothed him while he sat in a salon chair for the first time in a long time. The setting was new to him, a nice place with rich and colorful decoration, beautiful people with luscious hair and fantastic artwork painting their exposed arms. Long lashes, immaculate make-up, expensive looking clothes. He was out of place, same with the tattoo shop he had stopped in later on in the day.

It made him nervous in a way he didn’t anticipate. Like you would see him, really see that he was just some blue-collar man who did harsh labor day in an day out. Someone who could provide for himself until his last breath, but then again- that’s exactly what you saw. The contract offered, read over, and signed proves that. He just can’t fathom the why, now that he knows you’re married.

As soon as Ellie and Dina are ascending the stairs after a decent meal, one in which he tried to be as present during as possible even with his mind a blur of conflicting thought, Joel is taking the keys from the bowl beside the door and heading out the door.

He needs to get to the bottom of this now.

“Hey, Joel, is everything okay?” Your mind is working overtime as you swing the door open to find the man standing there on the stoop. It’s small, just enough space for your giant potted elephants ear plant, a little table, and one patio chair. The railing is gone, something you had taken down before you moved in, the furniture in easier and something you wanted to replace anyway.

You worry for a second that something is wrong, the radio silence wasn’t quite so profound, the understanding that he was working his last job before going out of town and then you being busy with a few clients who had big pieces to complete. But the emails you had exchanged were…strained? Something’s off, has been ever since that first day he handed over the signed contract and then came to the shop to visit. Despite that conversation going over relatively well, perfect even.

He's not moving to come into the house, though you open the door to offer him room to pass by and enter. Joel’s jaw is clenched tightly, you can see it twitching with the force he’s grinding his teeth together with.

You know you look a mess, face washed for the night, baggy clothes and knotted hair pulled up off you the back of your neck. You didn’t have anything scheduled tonight so you’ve just been mindlessly scrolling through the streaming services, not really focusing on finding something to watch. It was always the same routine until you settled on something you’ve watched over a million times already. It’s a comfort thing, that’s what your therapist says. To avoid being exposed to something you aren’t expecting in new media.

“Dunno, why don’t you ask your husband if everything is okay. Considering you just hired me as a personal contractor with an intimacy clause in his goddamn contract!” You flinch at the volume of his voice, the echo of it as it bounces off of closed garage doors and back through your open door. Your nails dig into the worn wood of the front door, catching Joel’s eyes as they do so.

“I don’t have a husband.” Your jaw clenches as your mouth snaps shut. Phantom pains break out all over your skin, pebbling the skin in goosebumps as the sting of a blade lances in your back.  “Please just- come inside where we can have a little more privacy.”

“No? Sure seems like your client from the other day is convinced you’ve got one.” Joel towers over you, standing right in front of you settled against the back of the couch once he follows you inside. “Checked your account, saw the damn photos myself and here I was defending you against my shithead brother that you had no ill intentions.”

When you don’t say anything, too taken aback by the vehemence in his words, he continues on- overrun by the emotions he’s being bombarded with from every angle. The ones he had thought he dispelled after talking with you, after mulling over the stipulations of the contract a few times. But day one is here and he’s not sure how he feels anymore- other than betrayed and lied to. Played like a goddamn fool. That much is obvious, but the not one, but two mentions of the reason for your sudden move across the country is triggering and it’s hard to catch your breath let alone speak the soothing words you want to.

“I thought this whole thing was too good to be true, young thing like yourself offering me the chance of a lifetime. Turns out you’re married and have a husband who probably just doesn’t give you enough attention so you go looking for it with people you can keep around with the promise of money. Thought this would be a way to spend more time doing what I wanna do and focus on my girls, but no. Played like the fool I am once again. It was all a sham, this whole thing-“

“It is not a mistake!” Rage takes over your entire body, flames of it striking hot and consuming you.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it really does look like it is. Well, where is he? Off on some business trip or does he like to be in the house when you’ve got your men over? I sure as hell didn’t, but I don’t presume to know anything about you anymore.” And the self-depreciating smile he gives you sends you hurling over the edge of caution. Giving you the fuel to let the flames consume you and speak the words you haven’t to anyone but your lawyer.

“You wanna talk about my ex-husband so bad, Mr. Miller?” You push off the back of the couch and punch a sharp nail into his chest. You know he could feel the point of it through his clothing if the pinched expression he makes is any indication.

“You want to know about the man who was soliciting his apprentices right underneath my nose and then attacked me when I approached him about it, when I threatened to report him? You want to know about the man who probably did the same fucking thing to me, set his sights on me when I first started in this career and making a name for myself? You want to know about the man who he hired after our shitshow of a divorce to solicit me and give the community more reason to doubt my skills and hard-earned establishment? The guy I thought was such a breath of fresh air in the wake of something so fucking horrible only to find out the whole thing was a set up? He set his focus on fueling the rumors that I used my body to get where I am, that I slept my way into success. And I’ll tell you one more thing, Mr. Miller- you will not accuse me of being the shady motherfucker in this equation because I’m nothing like the man you assume is still in any part of my life.”

Chest heaving and body humming, you stare directly into his eyes. Seeing the weight of the words that rushed out of you settle in him, around the room, making it far more tense than it already had been. But it’s a different type of tension, one born of unease and spoken trauma. You left out the harder to swallow details, but the timeline you depicted is vile all the same.

His brown eyes flash with something like regret as his face slackens at your heated words. But it closes right back up into something unreadable. He doesn’t open his mouth to respond, it’s too busy frowning into a hard line. His plush lips almost white with the pressure of it. He’s poked and prodded at the one thing you have no patience for, insinuation of bad deeds and shady dealings. You realize that some conflict was bound to happen, either because of you or because of him- that’s just how human interactions and relationships went. But this?

This was something you never saw coming from the sweet, determined man who you had first met a month ago. His words had been vicious, biting and stinging where they land. Surely, he read something in the preconceived notion of your intentions, fueled by the dated knowledge of someone who you so thoroughly rinsed your hands of that they were serving time in prison with a restraining order against should he ever be free again. But right now you didn’t have it in you to ask after him, to make sure he was okay and if it was linked to something in his own past. Right now you were livid. The accusations he was slinging striking harder than the mistake of him taking you for a practiced sex worker who collected men.

“Jealously doesn’t look good on you, Mr. Miller. I suggest you get a hold of yourself and think about the next words to come out of your mouth very carefully. Otherwise you’ll be proven right that this whole thing is one big mistake.”

He’s just staring and your body thrums as you glare back at him. With nothing else to say in defense, you dismiss him as professionally as you can, even if right now you feel like absolute trash. You didn’t rage and ruin, you didn’t hurl fists or hurtful words. That isn’t who you are, even at your most angry and betrayed. Not anymore. He didn’t deserve it, deep down in your very soul you know he doesn’t deserve that despite the manner in which he approached you. He’s a hurt man, his pride and emotions blindsided by something you were working up to telling him about.

“Blueprints for the original foundation of the house are on the island, should you deem me a good enough person to keep working for.” You turn your back on him, instincts urging you to retreat before you say something you’ll regret. Anger and hurt colliding in you among the flames of rage and old situations filling you up so full that it’s hard to put one foot in front of the other without stomping. “I trust you can see yourself out.”

You wait on the landing upstairs, the plush rug you had put down over the hardwood giving you the opportunity to stand there in silence. You don’t move forward until you hear the swoosh of thick papers being picked up and the click of the door behind Joel as he leaves the house. But you don’t let go of the breath held in your lungs until you hear the roar of his truck engine, and the shifting of gears signal his leave of the property completely.

Only then do your knees give out and you land heavy on your palms right on the floor. The rug is soft beneath you, but it does nothing to calm the shaking of your entire body as the adrenaline leaks out of you alongside it.

He’s numb and stunned the entire drive back across town. On autopilot as he maneuvers his truck down the late-night streets. He had no idea what time it was, but the sky twinkled with the few stars that shone brighter than the city lights.

He’s torn. Between the emotions that assaulted him all week as he lamented over who he thought you were and what you were capable paired now with the way he had approached you with no doubts in his mind of how you manipulated him. Only to find out that you were nothing like he had begun to think.

You were you. The same young woman who asked after his company to fix up your parents house the longer it sat and aged, sent them on a long vacation in order to do it. The same young woman who soothed him as his anxiety spiked. The same one who he soothed himself when you experienced a similar episode. Because you were a victim of the things he accused you of.

And it fucks him up to picture you happily married only to discover that your partner was cheating on you, betraying your trust in such a devastating way. He knows what it feels like, he’s lived it and his confrontation most likely has you living through it all over again.

As Joel slows down to turn into his driveway, a waving figure catches his eye.

Your parents are seated on their porch across the street and with a guilt settled in his stomach like lead, he gets out of the truck and heads over. You mother is beaming at him, your father already pouring amber liquid into a third cup and holding it out to him as he ascends the few steps.

“Joel Miller! How could you keep such a big secret from us?”

Joel’s heart thunders in his chest, the tight coil of muscles around it almost choking as he reinforces his stance in preparation for everything to come crashing down around him. They know, his mind betrays him. They know about the hurtful words and dirty thoughts he’s been having about you, how he just lost any semblance of who he thinks he is and shouted at you like a child who needed to be chastised for grave mistakes. But he’s the childish one now, ready to face the consequences of his rash actions brought on by past experiences and moments lived. He’s transported back into that younger body of his, that younger mindset that everything is his fault. That he’s the bad guy and he fears he always will be.

Just as he breaths in, the controlled expression on your parents’ faces fall away into wide grins and giddy energy.

“Yeah, man, can’t believe you and my daughter conspired behind our backs to do the house over!” Joel is slow to take the offered drink, not sure if it’s the best idea to start now. But he downs it after clinking it against the two your parents hold up. Setting the thick glass down, he signals no more for himself, though they pour another generous helping into their glasses to sip at.

“We can’t thank you enough for all the attention to detail, it’s a dream come true. We feel so spoiled, you two are gonna be trouble moving forward, aren’t you?”

The porch light gives Joel the perfect view of your fathers humor, mirth dancing in his eyes as he jests that his close friend and daughter are cut from the same cloth. And even now, with how things are between you two- Joel feels pride at being compared to someone as good as you. He’s heard nothing but praise about you from your parents, from the two women who were at the tattoo shop, from the crew after they finished the renovation. You were good and he was a goddamn fool.

“Was just doin’ my job, Lydia. Treated it a little more carefully than other projects, but a job nonetheless.”

“Nonsense! You truly outdid yourself here, it’s just amazing. You have such a good eye, all we did was offhandedly mentioned things we might want to get done some day- eventually. But you and Grey have surprised the hell out of us.” Relief washes over him, giving him a reprieve from the torment he’s been wallowing in for most of the day. Hell, for the past week as he’s been subjecting himself to.

“That girl never rests, not even after the hard year she’s had. She gives so much of herself to everyone around her just like you and this is beyond anything we expected.” Lydia is near tears, no doubt due to a combination of being an overly emotional person and the alcohol she’s consumed in the late hour.

“She just moved back too, barely has had any time to get her own house fixed up but she goes and drops all the money to get ours redone after sending us on an unreal holiday for our anniversary? Bless her, she’s one of the best things I’ve ever had the pleasure in taking a part in making.” Her voice is strong even as she dabs at her eyes with a tissue.

“Grey is my crowning achievement. She’s stronger than I’ll ever be, that’s for damn sure. Not to get into it too much, but the day she showed up here with a black eye and told me she needed to move in, all I could see was red. I could’ve killed for her, but she said she had already taken care of it.” Your father’s words settle heavy in his stomach, making him nauseous as the reality of what he did hits him.

The stab of regret for his words, for your forced admission of your own trauma at his demand is sharp in his chest. Prickling over his entire body as he realizes the depth of his mistake in confronting you the way he did. Bidding them goodnight, Joel somberly crosses the street and retreats back into his own home.

“Hey, Joel! Did you know that the neighbor’s daughter, the one who you’ve been working on the renovation with, is one of the best tattoo artists in the Midwest? Her page is insane, I think I’m gonna need to ask you to use your connections to get me a consultation, I want her to design something for me, finally cover up this scar. But she’s booked up for months, her assistant said there’s something like a year long waiting period to get an appointment. That’s so freaking cool, just today she posted some designs and they are so awesome! She goes by Grey, cause of the way her shading is next level.”

To make matters worse, Ellie fires off quick words at him the second he’s back through the door. She’s in her version of sleep clothes as she sits at the kitchen table with a glass of milk and an open bag of cookies. Voice carrying to him through the house.

“Uh, yeah, baby girl, I’ll ask next time I see her.” He shucks off his boots, still dressed in his work clothes from when he had gotten home earlier. He must be staring off into space, face betraying how off kilter he feels because Ellie is quickly getting up from her spot and crossing into the living room.

“Hey….everything okay? You look a little more grumpy than usual. Which is saying something because you’ve been more relaxed lately. Did something happen?”

And for the life of him, Joel couldn’t hold back the tears he feels well up hot behind his eyes. His lungs lurch and a sob escapes through his lips when he opens them up to reassure her everything is okay.

“Woah, okay. Let’s sit, yeah?” She’s up in his personal space in a heartbeat, ushering him back into the living room and onto the couch with small hands and gentle movements.

“Just missin’ you and Sarah, is all. I feel like I haven’t given y’all enough of my time these past few years.”

“What are you talking about, you’re working to provide for us. College isn’t cheap and you’re only one man. A really good one, selfless and loving. I-I don’t know where I would be without you, dad.” When she reaches for his hand and tangles her fingers with his, he looks up to the ceiling to try and reign in the tears that are rapidly falling. He can taste them on his tongue as they drip into his mouth, nose and throat burning as they consume him. As everything hits him like a freight train.

And then it all comes tumbling out of him is quiet words, between heaving breaths and gasping exhales.

All of it, how he feels so conflicted being attracted to you with the difference in ages, the way he knows you through one of his close friends, because he started working for you. And then the contract you offered him for work, an opportunity to slow down and be with her more. How he feels like he’s failed as a father and brother. The argument he had with Tommy, the check he shoved at him as a way of showing him he still loved the man even if he couldn’t say it. How he feels left behind in favor of something better, a new life with new people he had no part of. All of it leaves him, deflates him as the words are given actual life as they pass through his lips. No longer plaguing his mind on a loop, unshared and unraveled.

To her immense credit, Ellie listens to it all with a closed lipped expression. Her bright eyes watching the way he tangles his hands together, how he runs them through his shortened hair and trimmed scruff. All of it is displayed so clearly in him, no longer hidden away for him to shoulder alone.

“You know, I was home from classes one day, and I saw you two unloading the truck. The way you two moved together, like magnets drawn to each other. That same goofy smile on your face as when I tell you a bad pun but aimed at her when she’s done nothing but simply breath. The smiles she gives you when you aren’t looking, it was- well, honestly, it was a little gross to witness. But it was also good, dad. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so carefree and just yourself. The laughter and sounds of you two working together came out the open window of the house and it just…it sounded right, you know?”

When he doesn’t respond, Ellie continues on in a confident voice.

“Sounds like you’ve got a really important first job then, huh?”

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@getitoutofmymindwrites @burntheedges @punkshort @sarap-77

@chronically-ghosted @theoraekenslover @maladaptivedaydreaming

@ad23900 @bergamote-catsandbooks @mrs-hardy-hunnam-butler-pascal

@clevergirl74

dividers by the lovely @/cafekitsune and @/saradika-graphics