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kingtomura · 1 month

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Deja Vu | 1 | January Embers

summary: Your best friend died years ago. He went up in flames until there was nothing left — so why does it feel like you can still see him sometimes? content: touya todoroki x female reader, childhood friends au, reader has a quirk, time skipping, flashbacks, fluff, heavy angst, bullying, eventual smut, eventual meaning next chapter, soft touya, hurt/comfort, tragedy, mdni wc: 4.5k | Chapter 2 | m. list | read on ao3

You meet Touya Todoroki when you are four years old.

He was a redhot firecracker that demanded the attention of you and all those around him.

Touya Todoroki was also the first in your class to have his quirk maifest. It was the talk for about a week, everyone expecting nothing less from the son of the flame hero, Endeavor, himself.

You would watch him some days, flaunting his newfound power on the playground in front of others, knowing he would be some great hero one day. Even better than All Might, he would yell to anyone that would listen. It was a decent dream, you believed. Maybe someone could actually be better than All Might.

It didn’t seem like that would be in the cards for you, as it became more apparent as the days went by that you may not have a quirk. The excitement of watching every other child’s quirk manifest began to fill you with a pit of dread.

Quirkless.

It’s something you never thought you would have to think about. The realization hadn’t caught up with the rest of your class yet and you could only thank the stars.

But it was only a matter of time before a group of three noticed.

They cornered you while you tried drawing shapes in the sanded area of the playground.

“Hey,” one kid dragged, horns proudly peeking out of his head. “What’s goin’ on with you?”

You spared him a glance before going back to your sand, gliding the stick you found through the yellow grains. “What do you mean?”

One girl behind him pipes up, curly pigtails bouncing with the tilt of her head, “Where’s your quirk? Aren’t you turning five soon?”

The emphasis on five makes you jolt a little and you try to play it off — offering a little shrug to the trio. “I dunno. Mom says I'm a late bloomer.” you pray they will be satisfied with your answer and leave you alone.

The third kid finally speaks, sporting a new pair of bat-like wings. “No way, I bet you’re gonna be quirkless!”

The other children erupt in a loud laugh that calls the attention of your other classmates — much to your dismay.

“That’s so sad for you!” the girl yelled, grin on her face showing not an ounce of pity.

“Yeah, really!” The first boy laughs, taking a step forward and kicking the sand you were drawing in towards you, effectively ruining your picture and your day.

You go to stand, brushing the sand off of your dress before the girl rushes forward to push you, sending you down to land flat on your bottom. Your bottom lip wobbled as you tried to hold back the tears and humiliation threatening to spill over and out.

The bat-winged boy pointed to you, “Look, guys, she’s gonna cry!” Yelling out to anyone who could hear, only causing you to dip your head in shame, now unable to stop the warm tears from trailing down your cheeks.

And you thought today couldn’t get any worse.

“Hey! Knock it off!” You hear a voice yell, familiar. “Flashfire fist!”

You feel the heat before you see it, hot and swift.

The screams make you look up. Its Touya, red hair and fist aflame, standing in front of you and effectively blocking you from the trio of bullies before.

“Ouch, Touya! You could have really hurt us!” the girl with pigtails cried, holding her own wrist as tears flowed freely down her cheeks.

The boy who kicked sand at you spoke up next, voice wavering on the verge of tears as well, “Yeah, you jerk!”

Touya shrugged, flames dissipating and points a finger at them, “I don't care. Bullies’ feelings dont matter!”

You could only stare with wet lashes as the trio ran off — no doubt to tell the teacher. Touya didn’t seem to mind, as a matter of fact he seemed proud as he turned to you and reached out a hand to help you up. He was all smiles and warm eyes, “Are you alright?”

You take his hand, noting how warm it still was from his previous quirk use and nod, “Mhm, thank you.”

“It’s no problem,” he helped you to your feet before continuing, his smile almost blinding, “I’m Touya Todoroki, the next number one hero.”

You nod and introduce yourself, cheeks warm and smile dancing across your face. His mood is infectious. “Nice to meet you, Touya, next number one hero.”

Later that day you realize Touya does get in trouble for improper quirk use and can’t help but apologize.

“It’s fine!” He returns, not bothered in the slightest. “I’d do it again and again, if I had to.”

After the incident Touya insisted on being by your side the rest of the day. During lunch, arts and crafts and even nap time. He would go where you would go and you couldn’t say you minded. Once school had finished for the day and it was time to break apart Touya insisted you both hang out more.

Even going as far as to introduce himself to your parents as they came to pick you up.

His foot tapped in excitement as he told them about your days and how you should hang out more.

That’s how you both find yourselves in some forest on the weekend, walking together through the fresh snow, because Touya just had to show you this cool training spot.

“But, don't you think we’re going too far, Touya?” You ask, nerves trembling as you look around the forest. You wouldn’t know your way back without him and you’ve never been this far out alone.

“No,” he singsongs, “C’mon– don't be such a baby,”

You puff your cheeks, running to catch up with him, “Don’t call me that, but okay!”

He grabs your hand once you are by his side and it's warm. Touya is always warm.

“We’re almost there, anyway!”

This special place looked the same as any other place in these woods, but you wouldn’t let Touya know. He’s so excited to show you what he came to do.

“My dad and I train here sometimes.” He starts, smiling as he backs away from you to show you a flame in his hand. “He thinks my flames will be hotter than his one day.”

You can’t hide the way your eyes fill with sadness as you look to the ground.

“I don’t think I’m gonna get a quirk, Touya.”

The boy’s smile drops instantly, as he rushes over to you, taking your face in his tiny hands. Still so warm, like always.

“Hey, don’t say that! Maybe you aren't trying the right things.” He dips behind you before you could turn to stop him, “Maybe you can see in the dark!” His hypothesis being tested by covering your eyes.

You bite back a laugh, “No, Touya, I don't think it works like that.”

The boy lets you go and runs to a rather large, fallen log – climbing atop it and looking down to you. “Well, maybe you can fly. Have you tried that?”

You shake your head, unable to hide the worry in your face. Touya was up pretty high. “Hey… you shouldn’t be up that far.”

“What do you mean? It’s fine!” he reassures, continuing his musing while walking along the fallen log. “Besides, it’s not like I'm clumsy or anything—!”

The boy’s words were cut short by his shoe stepping down and slipping on the ice below it, sending him crashing down to the patch of snow and debris below.

In that moment, your hand shoots out before you can think and there’s ringing in your ears. Your eyes squeezed shut as you wait for the impending crash. But it doesn’t come.

You slowly open your eyes and see… Touya. He’s okay. Better than okay because he’s floating above the snowy patch of grass below, debris and everything brushed away. Your hand is still out as you meet Touya's wide eyes.

“Whoa!” You finally pull your hand back and watch his feet gently touch the grass below. “Dude, you have mind powers! So cool!”

You will your breathing to go back to normal as you take in the new information. You do have a quirk. All hope was not lost.

The feeling of warm liquid creeping down your nostril catches your attention. Bringing a finger to your nose, you pull back and see the crimson drop. Blood. The sound of Touya’s steps through the snow breaks your focus.

“Hey, what happened? You're bleeding.” He takes your finger in his hand, red brows furrowed and cerulean eyes filled with worry.

You shrug, taking your hand back and wiping your nose with your sleeve, unaware of the tiny smear of blood you left across your face. “I dunno. I’m not hurt, though.”

At this, Touya smiles, bringing his own hand to your face to wipe the remainder of what you smeared. “You better not be! We’re gonna be heroes together — you and me!”

It’s so infectious, the way he lights up with a smile, you can’t help but return it. “Yeah, we sure will.”

—----------------

The first time you think you see Touya it’s while you are on your way home from the bustling area of downtown.

The shops are crowded with people trying to get their last minute gifts for the holidays and you promised your parents you would be home hours ago. It’s a flash – so quick you almost miss it.

Almost.

Through the crowd there's a glint of white hair and blue eyes. You stop, sending the people behind you nearly barrolling into your backside and profusely apologize, half heartedly hearing their grumbles as you make your way through the flurry of people.

The snow white hair is a little further ahead, but you can see bits and pieces where the sea of heads will naturally move.

Was that…

It couldn’t be. Your heart picks up as you nearly chase your way through, mumbling faint excuse me’s and pardon me’s to those around you as you lock onto the moving person. It's becoming harder to keep up and you break out in a light sprint.

The person takes a sharp left into an alley and you follow behind, only to be met with the emptiness of a damp back alley.

There was no way it could be him. Your mind was playing tricks on you.

You shake your head, hoping you could physically shake those thoughts from your brain and turn to head home. It had been a long day.

There is a battle raging in your mind — one that you are not sure is formed from grief or from anxiety. it is an all consuming inferno of blackened dust in your heart and you cannot stop yourself when you bring it up to Fuyumi.

You both have been sitting in silence for a while, wrapping gifts for the upcoming holidays. She has been in her own little world, humming christmas tunes, while you have been in a fit of inner turmoil.

“Hey, Fuyumi,” you start, instantly catching her attention in the otherwise quiet home.

“Hm?”

Your nerves are eating your confidence and you start to second guess yourself. Only the warmth in her gray eyes gives you the resolve to continue. “Something weird happened at the market the other day.”

She tilts her head, flowing ponytail following the direction, “What’s that?”

“I was walking and,” you stall — unsure if bringing up your friend's dead brother before the holidays would be a good move. “I swear, I thought I saw Touya. It was a flash, but the guy had his white hair and,” unwanted tears are blurring your vision, “and his eyes were so much like Touya’s i don't—” you're choking up, tears fighting their way through your throat, “I thought i was going crazy.”

Surprisingly, Fuyumi takes it well, reaching a hand out to touch your shoulder, a comforting motion you’ve grown to know over the years.

“Hey, it’s okay. That could have been anyone, you know?” She smiles, and it’s bittersweet like the flowers at a funeral, “it’s the holiday season so everyone is out right now.”

You nod, reluctant, but logical. “Yeah, yeah you’re right. It was pretty crowded in that area.” the tears would force their way through your resistance whether you fought them or not, so you give up – letting them flow down your cheeks. “I’m sorry for bringing it up, Fuyumi.”

“No, it's okay! Don't worry about it." She looks to the side. “It’s only been three years since it happened, and the anniversary of his death is coming up too. It's harder around this time of year. For all of us.”

You can only nod as Fuyumi brings you into a tight hug. Your resolve melted away in her arms as you cried, it felt like things would never get easier.

A life without Touya wasn’t a life you could see yourself living happily in.

You wished and prayed for him everyday — unwilling to believe your best friend was really truly gone. It felt so surreal. Like something that happens in movies and not to you.

Fuyumi said nothing as she held you and rubbed soothing circles on your back. She has been a pillar for you in these times and you couldn’t be more grateful. Only wishing you could show your gratuity in a more effective form than just sobbing into her shoulder.

There is an anguish in your heart that will not go away. A part of you died when Touya did, there was no denying that.

Fuyumi pulls away, holding you by the shoulders as her eyes meet yours — she's started crying too and it's enough to make you shake with sobs again.

“Hey, hey,” Fuyumi starts, her voice unwavering despite the tears. You wish you were strong like her. “We’ll get through this, okay? We just have to be strong.”

You give her a pathetic nod, one more for her sake than yours, and try to sit up straighter.

You knew that Touya wouldn’t want to see you like this.

—-------------------

When you are five years old, you notice there is a change in Touya.

You gasp when you see him again, “Touya! Your hair!”

His eyebrows scrunch at your pointing and then widen in realization. “Huh? Oh, don’t worry about that.” Touya huffs, “were you even listening?”

The question startles you and you quickly nod your head, knowing you didn't hear a word he said. “Mhm!”

Touya keeps talking, now bringing a hand to his hair, rubbing a lock between his forefinger and thumb, “Okay, so what’s the deal?”

You can't stop the confused look in your eye as you watch him, cheeks rosy from the cold. It snowed again yesterday, and Touya never seemed bothered by the cold. You were freezing though.

Somehow you let him bring you back to this forest — it’s become your go to hangout. A place where the both of you could practice your quirks in peace.

“Do you like All Might or something?”

You shrug, indifferent to the well known hero. Your parents weren’t heroes and neither was anyone in your family. He seemed more like a comic book character than an actual person.

“Well, it doesn't matter. My dad told me I’m gonna be even better than All Might! So he better watch out.”

You smile, seeing his eyes light up, “Oh, yeah? How are you gonna be better than him, Touya?”

You don’t know why but it makes your heart dance when he gets this way. Stars in his eyes and world in his hand. He’s your hero, you absently wonder if he knows that.

Touya shrugs, scrunching his nose in thought, “I dunno. I haven’t gotten that far yet.” He snaps his fingers and turns to you, “I know! I’ll look it up. It can’t be too hard, right?”

You laugh now. Of course he doesn’t have a plan.

“Don't you think if it were that easy he wouldn't be the number one right now?” You test, and Touya gives you a look, pout strong on his face.

“Hey, whose side are you on, anyway?”

“Yours! So, I don't want you to waste your time on silly stuff.” You offer, looking at the leaves you're making dance in your hand.

He groans, the frustration evident in his voice, “Whatever! I’ll figure something else out.”

In that moment, there’s a great gust of wind — whistling and blowing the leaves in your hand away. It’s chill makes you wrap your arms around yourself, shivering.

“Touya, don’t you get cold?” You ask, arms doing little to warm yourself as you continue to shiver.

The boy looks at you, brows furrowed and eyes confused. “No, do you?”

“Yes!” You shout, “all the time! It’s so c-cold out here. I don’t know how you do it.”

He walks over to you, pondering and examining your face. “Yeah, your nose is all red. Rudolf.”

He takes your face into his hands and closes his eyes, rubbing his nose against yours back and forth. It’s warm and it makes you flush. Your cheeks burn when he pulls away, stunned at the smile on his face and stars in his eyes.

“Better?” He asks, innocent question ringing in your ears and you realize yes, you do feel better, but you also feel warm and fuzzy like there are butterflies dancing around in your belly and you can’t get them out — so, you just nod instead, slow smile creeping on your face and Touya grabs your hand again.

“Good! Now let’s keep going! There’s this cool new move I wanna try.”

And you follow behind him. He was your best friend after all. You feel as though you would even follow him through the icy storms of Antarctica if you needed to.

—-------------------

Christmas with the Todoroki’s has always been interesting. For one, half of them were not present during the dinner. Rei being sent to the facility, endeavor choosing to work on his hero duties and little Shouto desperately trying to eat with all of you without Enji coming home to find him out of his room.

The silence is eerie – other than the sounds of metal clinking against porcelain plates.

You couldn’t help but break the tense air, words sounding loud in the quiet of the room, “Thank you all for inviting me over. The food is really good, Natsuo.”

At this, Natsuo perks up, a smile so wide on his face it makes his eyes squeeze shut. “We love having you around! You’re like the big sis we never had!”

“Hey!” Fuyumi squawks, ready to scold her little brother, “I’m the one who knows where you sleep Natsu, so watch it!”

You can’t help but laugh at the threat, knowing Natsuo has been a victim to many of Fuyumi’s pranks. Shouto only watches on, eating as much as he could before he would inevitably go back to his side of the home. There wasn’t much expression to his face, but he seemed content to watch his older siblings bicker back and forth.

Times like these were nice, you decide. It pulls your mind away from the reality and into the more lively parts of growing up.

After the dinner was done, and the gifts were passed out, there was a somber air growing about you all once more.

Shouto went back to his room and Natsuo found his place in the living room, playing video games and insisting that since he cooked most of the meal, he shouldn’t wash dishes as well.

Much to Fuyumi’s dismay, you agreed with Natuso, but offered to help her with the dishes. It was something to prolong the inevitable walk home.

“What did you get for him this year?” Fuyumi asked, passing you another plate to dry.

You glanced at her, noting how she avoided your gaze, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth instead. “It’s something I’ve been working on for a while. A necklace — with charms and things I think he would like.”

She nods, bringing an arm up to wipe her eyes with her wrist, “Yeah, I’m sure he would love that. He always liked your gifts.”

It’s impossible not to find yourself tearing up.

Once you were done washing dishes with Fuyumi, she went to join Natsuo in the living room, offering unwanted tips on the current game he was playing and receiving groans of irritation in return.

You take that as your cue to leave and make your way to the place you’ve dreaded all night.

Touya’s shrine.

His memoriam stared back at you as you dropped to your knees, lowering your head in prayer and then placing the small decorated box onto the shelf of his shrine.

“Oh, Touya… it’s been three years.” You say to his photo hanging above the shrine. It’s his school photo. You were both in the same class, already talking about what high schools you would be choosing in the upcoming years.

It doesn’t feel like three years. It feels like everyday is the same — you wake up and he’s not there. Like a day you’re doomed to repeat until the reality of it all finally sets in.

What would he look like now, you wonder. Would he have gotten taller? He had always been smaller than the other kids. Would he still have dreams of being a hero? You didn’t know. You wished you knew.

Your fists clinch in your lap and the tears flow freely from your eyes. Even with your head bowed you can’t stop seeing his picture etched into your brain. Those blue eyes staring into your eyes.

A sob escapes your lips and it all comes crashing down after that.

“God, Touya..!” Your words break down, sending your resolve with it. It feels like your heart has been ripped out of your chest and you’ve been openly bleeding out for three years.

You are only sixteen years old and expected to spend the rest of your life without the boy who would put the moon in the sky for you.

Unthinkable.

You’re not sure how much time has passed once you’ve calmed down, but you know it’s late now.

It was time to head home, and you wished Fuyumi and Natsuo well as you hugged them. They wave you off, faces somber and words tight. If they heard you crying, they didn't mention it and you’re thankful.

The trek home would not be not a long one, but you couldn’t stop yourself from taking a detour.

The forest where you and Touya always hung out was nearby and you can't stop your feet when you make a sharp right turn and head that way.

It was getting dark and snow was beginning to fall, but you felt at home.

There's a river you like to walk along. It's such a small little stream that never seems to freeze over, no matter how cold it is outside. It is where you find yourself trailing beside. The water being the only noise breaking through the quiet of the forest.

It kept you company until you reached the familiar open patch of grass, which was currently covered in snow.

Some trees were still charred from the incident, but others were still standing proud. It’s strange how that works — some things can remain the same through adversity while others are damaged beyond repair. You wonder if things could ever grow back from such tragedies.

Maybe the growth of something new could come from the ashes of the old. Like a phoenix.

The snapping of a twig snatches you from your thoughts.

It's a forest, yes, but this area doesn’t have much food for the animals. You stand to your feet, absently wondering when you had taken a seat in the first place, and look around. Maybe it was a trick of the wind, or something falling.

The snow crunches under your feet as you begin to take your leave — you’ve been out long enough.

You make your way through the thick of the trees until something brings you to pause.

Your steps were not the only steps you were hearing.

“Hello?” You call out into what you hoped had been an empty forest, only to be met with silence. It is not a comforting quiet, it was a quiet that crept underneath your skin and gave you goosebumps.

It felt like you were being watched.

“This isn’t funny!” You yell, taking cautious steps backwards, preparing yourself for a sprint in the opposite direction.

You turn, ready to take off when a glimmer of silver catches your eye, the flicker making you halt your movements.

Your heart hammered against your chest.

There was no way.

It was so faint, but you knew the necklace you crafted like the back of your hand.

“Hey! Stop fucking around, whoever you are!” You don’t know where this brave face is coming from, but you aren’t backing down. You could fight if need be.

Against your better judgment, you take a few steps forward, and like you thought, whoever was around took those steps with you. Your breath hitches when you see it.

A flash of white hair.

You break off into a sprint, and the person is already off, having a headstart and leaving you behind.

You couldn’t see as well through the snowfall, but you didn’t need to. White hair and the shimmer of a necklace around the person’s neck has you chasing them deeper into the woods.

“Stop..!” You cry out, reaching a hand forward in an attempt to activate your quirk.

The force of it causes branches to fall from a tree further ahead of the person and he only changes direction.

You follow behind, lungs burning as you struggle to keep up. There was another attempt, bringing an already leaning tree down in front of the running man. It still did not work, he simply jumped over it and continued on.

You were approaching your limit with your quirk and desperate. If you let this slip through your fingers it would drive you mad.

“Wait!” You try again, reaching both hands forward and focusing all you had on the man before you. It was hard to ignore the blood trickling from both nostrils with your quirk use, but you had to, this was your only chance. “Touya..!”

And in that moment, the man stopped — whether it be from your quirk holding him in place or his own will, you weren't sure. All you knew was that the man stopped, and turned.

Your vision began to blur as your head pounded from the overexertion — your quirk was difficult to use on a living being, but it didn’t matter. You would know those eyes even in your darkest hour.

The cerulean blue was the last thing you saw before your world went dark.

And in your final moments, only one thought rang in your mind.

Touya is alive.

#todoroki touya #touya todoroki #todoroki touya x reader #touya x reader #dabi x reader #dabi #touya todoroki x reader #my works #mha x reader #dabi x you #todoroki touya x you

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hungermakesmonsters · 2 months

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Catch Me If You Can

Chapter Twenty-One

Plot summary : When your friend interviews for a position at Anvil, you have a chance encounter with Billy Russo. He takes you for coffee and, by the time you’re done, Billy decides he’s anything but done with you.

Pairing : Billy Russo x Reader

Story Rating : R

Chapter Rating : R - back to their smutty selves

Warnings : [This is a fic for 18+ only, minors DNI] Nothing massive, just some smutty behaviour in public and a brief visit to Billy's mother in the care home. Please check the warnings on each chapter if you choose to follow this story.

Word Count : ~4.7k

A/N : After last week, we're back to more slightly fun times with reader and Billy. This is set around a couple of weeks after the last part!

Chapter Twenty-One

It wasn’t easy. Nothing about going back to Billy after everything that had happened was easy, and you both seemed to understand that something had shifted in your relationship. There were no more lies between you, no more walls to hide behind. When you’d told him the truth about Scott, you’d let him see a part of yourself that only one other person knew, and when Billy told you about Frank, about how he’d always traded his brother for a lavish lifestyle, he’d let you see how flawed he really was.

The honeymoon period of your relationship was over and, now, you were privy to the darkest parts of each other.

Only a year ago, that level of intimacy with another person would have terrified you, but now, knowing that he loved you despite your mistakes, made you feel closer to him than ever. And, in turn, knowing more about the things that hurt him, the things that made him hate and second guess himself, made you feel like you could actually support him when he needed you, instead of pretending like everything in his life was perfect.

The conversation about you moving in came up again and, of course, you said yes. Karen came through with the offer of a job with The Bulletin. And, suddenly, you felt like you had purpose again, like you were actually living your life instead of just existing. Karen even wanted to take you on a girls weekend to Mexico to celebrate.

But the new frankness in your relationship did cause a few little bumps, but they were things that you knew couldn’t be rushed; like Billy’s panic attacks. He still wouldn’t talk about them though, thankfully, he hadn’t had any that you knew of since your photography show.

And, on the topic of the show - well, let's just say you and Billy had words a couple of days after the show when almost half the photos that had been sold turned up at the penthouse. But, as much as you might have wanted to be annoyed about it, when he told you that he’d bought them so that he’d always have something to remember you by, you knew you couldn’t stay mad. And you had to admit that you’d never really been comfortable with the thought of anyone else owning that photo of him.

Little by little, he opened himself up to you, but never more so than he agreed to let you meet his mother. Though agreed might have been too strong of a word for it.

“I’m going to be late to Karen’s party tomorrow,” he told you as you sat down to dinner together.

“That’s okay, I can wait for you,” you shrugged, assuming that work would be keeping him late.

“No, it’s fine, you should just go ahead. I don’t know how long I’m going to be.”

“I’m sure Anvil won’t go bankrupt if you decide to finish an hour early on a friday,” you joked.

“It’s not a work thing,” he confessed, awkwardly dropping his gaze for a moment. You didn’t ask, you just gave him a moment, letting him decide if he wanted to tell you. And he did. “I go to see my mom on the last friday of every month, just to make sure everything’s -”

He trailed off into a sigh before offering you something of a shrug. That one little gesture told you everything; he wasn’t going because he wanted to, he was going out of some sense of obligation.

“I’ll go with you,” you told him the words coming out before you could even stop to really think about it.

“No, you’d just be waiting in the car, you might as well just -”

“No, I mean, I want to meet your mom.”

“What?” It was hard to tell if he was more shocked or confused.

It took you a moment to find the words to explain it to him. “For better or worse, she’s your family Billy and I want to get to know every part of you.”

Billy hadn’t been happy exactly, but he did relent and give in to you, and the next day, after work, the pair of you drove to the little home where his mother lived.

First impressions were not great, and you could understand why the PI had had such a low opinion of where Billy was choosing to keep his mother. A part of you did feel bad as he led you through the dingy, sterile corridors, the sounds of other residents echoing all around you.

You gripped Billy’s hand a little tighter and, when he gave you a concerned look, you explained to him that it reminded you of a hospital and that you hated hospitals.

A couple of the nurses offered muttered hellos as you and Billy passed them before stopping at a door labelled Carla Russo. He looked at you for a second before taking a breath and opening the door.

You weren’t sure what you expected, but what you found on the other side of that door certainly wasn’t it. Over the months you’d known about Billy’s abandonment, you’d built up this picture of a malevolent, uncaring and selfish woman. You’d pictured her as a monster, but the bedridden woman in front of you was the opposite of what you’d imagined. You felt almost bad for her, seeing what years of substance abuse had done to her.

Billy introduced you but you barely heard it, barely noticed much of anything until he let go of your hand and made his way around her bed to softly kiss her forehead. His mother didn’t react, but your attention was more concerned with Billy; with the stiff way he carried himself and the way he seemed to be forcing back a frown.

He spoke with his mother for a few minutes, as if she’d asked to hear about his day and how his work was going, while you took a seat. You half-listened, just watching Billy and trying to imagine a happy scene, one where his mother acknowledged him and smiled at his achievements, rather than staring vacantly at the ceiling.

When his attention finally returned to you, it was to tell you that he needed to go speak with her doctor, asking you if you’d be alright waiting there on your own or if you wanted to go wait in the car. You told him you’d stay, that you’d wait with his mother.

The minutes ticked by and you remained seated and silent, watching the figure on the bed as she just laid there, until something compelled you to stand, to move closer.

You looked down at her with all the sympathy you could muster, seeing a woman who should have still had so much of her life in front of her. As much as you wanted to hate her, all you really felt was pity, but not because of the state that she was in.

“You should know that your son’s a good man,” you told her, even though she gave no indication that she was listening or even realised that you were there, “he’s kind and funny, and so full of love. And he’s all of those things in spite of you. I don’t know how hard it was for you to leave him like that, but I pity you - not because you’re like this but because you gave up your chance to know him like I do. You gave up the chance to know what it’s like to be loved by him.”

If she could hear or understand what you were saying, she didn’t show it, but you weren’t quite done.

“He’s been through so much on his own, but he’s not alone anymore; he’s got me now, and I’m never going to abandon him like you did. You didn’t love or protect your son when he needed you most, but I’m never going to give up on him. I’m going to love him the way that he deserves to be loved.” The words tumbled from your lips and, somehow, you felt better for having said them, even if Carla Russo showed no signs of understanding you.

A moment later, Billy was back, telling you that he was ready to leave. You both gave his mother a terse goodbye before Billy took you by the hand and started leading you away. He didn’t say anything, as you stepped outside and started down the street towards the car. For a time you didn’t even think anything of how tightly he was holding your hand - you just assumed that he was feeling a little vulnerable after everything you’d just witnessed.

That is, until he pulled you off the sidewalk and into an alleyway.

Before you could ask what he was doing, Billy was kissing you, pressing you back against a wall with a familiar urgency. And, once you felt his erection pressed against you, any questions you might have had about what he was doing were rendered moot; he needed something from you and couldn’t even wait until you were back at the car to get it.

Without breaking the kiss, he lifted you, one hand pulling at the fastenings of his pants while the other held you securely until you thought to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his shoulders. The kiss broke as one hand slipped beneath your dress to pull your panties aside and the other pressed two fingers between your lips.

“Wet them,” He instructed, already sounding breathless.

You did as he asked without question, licking and sucking his fingers, lathering them with saliva. Once they were coated, he slipped the fingers between your thighs and used them to prime your entrance. While he did that, he took a moment to spit on his own hand before fisting his cock, trying to lubricate it.

His fingers pulled out of you, and you cried against his lips as his hips slammed into yours, filling you with every hard inch of him in one rough thrust. Despite his best efforts, you still weren’t wet enough, still weren’t ready for him, but you knew that this was more about Billy and what he needed than anything else. And, as he started to fuck you, your body quickly caught up, slickening around his cock and aiding his movements.

You fisted his hair, holding on for dear life and trying to ignore the scrape of brickwork against your lower back as Billy fucked you, taking everything that he needed from you. The quick and rough jerks of his hips told you that he wouldn’t last long, but you knew you wouldn’t either at this pace. And, honestly, the thought of doing this outside, in some filthy alleyway where anyone might stumble across you, thrilled you more than you ever thought it would.

He grunted against your lips and you did your best to swallow down every sound he made, even as his cock started to pulse inside you and you felt him start to come. You didn’t hesitate before reaching between your bodies and starting to rub your swollen clit while he emptied himself inside you. It only took a few moments more for you to find your own sweet release, your body trembling, your walls squeezing around him, before you both finally stilled.

He stayed inside you, his eyes finding yours, and you could tell his mind was racing, though you weren’t sure why. Your grip on his hair loosened and you slowly started to run your fingers through his locks, trying to set it to rights.

“Did you mean it?” He asked quietly and, for a moment, you weren’t sure what he meant. “What you said to her - did you mean it?”

“You heard that?”

“Every word.”

“Of course I meant it,” you told him as your lips pulled into a smile. “You’re mine, Billy. And I’m yours.”

“Forever,” he added before leaning in to kiss you again.

But the sounds of people on the street had him quickly pulling out and putting you down. You let out a groan at the feeling of emptiness and grimaced at the feeling of his cum starting to trickle down your thighs. Billy offered you his handkerchief and you did your best to clean yourself up while he did up his pants and kept a lookout.

“I can’t believe I’m gonna have to sit through this whole birthday dinner thing knowing you’re full of my cum,” he muttered, in a half-joking and half-serious tone that caused your cheeks to heat.

“Then you should have finished in my mouth instead,” you answered back quietly and the look Billy shot you had you almost bracing yourself to go again. For a few. Long seconds you held his gaze until he finally relented and let out a laugh.

“Maybe I’ll find us another alley once we’re done with dinner.” He smirked, holding out his hand to you.

“Is that a threat, or a promise?” You asked, grabbing his hand and holding tight as you started walking back to the Wraith.

It felt like his mood had lifted and he seemed more relaxed than he had when you’d first arrived to visit his mother. And you were glad, you were happy that you’d gone with him, and that he’d heard every word you’d said to Carla Russo. More than that, you were glad that he’d believed it.

When you finally made it to the restaurant, half an hour later than planned, Karen was first to stand to greet you both. And, as expected, you were the last ones there. Everyone else was already seated, each with a drink and the complimentary breadsticks were long gone. While she came to greet you, Billy did the rounds to greet his friends.

“Glad to see you finally managed to pull yourself out of Billy’s bed,” she smirked, and your cheeks immediately started to warm.

“That’s not - we weren’t -” you tried to argue.

“Please,” Karen laughed, “you look like you’ve just had your brains fucked out.”

Your hands quickly moved, nervously trying to smooth down your dress and hair, which just made Karen laugh more.

“I don’t mean like that, I mean -” she paused for a moment to look at you and think of the perfect word, “- it’s like you’ve got a glow or something.”

Your eyes went wide at the connotations of that word. “Karen, glow is really not a word I want to hear.”

“Why not? You’re using protection, aren’t you?” She asked and your cheeks continued to get warmer.

“I’m on birth control, but we...” you took an awkward breath and shook your head. “Look, it doesn’t matter, it’s not... that. We just - I dunno, we got a little bit closer today. Billy trusted me with something important and one thing kinda just led to another...”

“Uh-huh,” she kept smirking. “So things have been good since you decided to give it another go?” You nodded and Karen threw a glance in Billy’s direction. “Well, whatever it is you two have been up to, I don’t think I’ve ever seen him this happy.”

Your gaze followed her and, a moment after you started looking, Billy was staring right back at you, a disarming smile on his lips. Karen uttered something about finally being able to order and shooed you in the direction of Billy and the two empty seats that had been saved for you both at the end of the table. And, honestly, you were glad to get away from her.

“You alright?” Billy asked, seeming to notice your embarrassment as you took your seat at his side.

“I’m fine, Karen was just being Karen,” you told him and Billy nodded, even though he had no idea what you meant.

Food was ordered and you enjoyed sitting back and watching Billy interact with his friends, happy that he seemed to be so happy. But his attention always returned to you eventually. By the time you’d all finished eating, everyone had had more than enough to drink to start getting a little louder, joking and laughing with each other.

Billy leaned towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before whispering in your ear. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, thinking back to the first time he’d uttered those words; the party, the bathroom, the way he’d kissed you, and the way he’d made you come for the first time. You bit your lip for a moment, earning a grin from him as he pulled back a fraction. Your eyes flitted down the table, noticing how everyone else seemed absorbed in whatever story Curtis was telling. Billy’s eyes didn’t stray from you.

His hand found your bare knee, causing you to inhale sharply - and that just made Billy grin more. His fingers moved slowly, ghosting up your thigh and taking the fabric of your dress with them while your legs instinctively started to part for him. You knew you were playing with fire and that this couldn’t go much further, but that didn’t stop you from shifting forward in your seat and making sure the table cloth hid what you were doing.

The further up your thigh his hand got, the more you knew you needed to tell him to stop; you needed to be the voice of reason because you were certain that any thought of common sense had long since abandoned Billy.

His name was called from the other end of the table and you almost breathed a sigh of relief as he turned from you and started talking to his friends. Almost. Even though he wasn’t looking at you, his hand kept moving, higher and higher.

You reached for your wine glass and tried to take a drink to keep yourself from moaning as his fingers finally pressed against your wet panties. The warmth of his fingers bled through the wet fabric and all you could think about was how you wanted so much more. Despite being sat at a table with twelve other people, you wanted to feel him inside of you.

“Right?” Billy spoke suddenly, looking at you with a big grin on his face, pulling you into the conversation, even though the only thing you could think about was his hand between your legs and how needy you suddenly felt.

You nodded, even though you had no idea what they were talking about. Everyone laughed and Billy continued talking, his fingers still pressing against you, slowly rubbing, driving you more and more insane with every passing moment.

When he finally dared to slip beneath the fabric and run his fingers through your arousal, you closed your legs. As much as you wanted it, you knew that you couldn’t; not there, not like that. But Billy’s hand remained, his fingers still teasing you as your thighs squeezed around his hand, and you knew you’d have to do something before you gave in to what you both so obviously wanted.

Leaning towards him, you pressed a kiss to his cheek, while your hand gently pulled his from between your legs. You whispered in his ear; “not here.”

You stood and excused yourself, heading for the bathroom, slipping inside and leaving the door unlocked behind you. Less than a minute later, Billy was with you, locking the door and pressing you back against it.

“I can’t believe you were going to try to make me come on your fingers in front of all your friends,” you tried to feign annoyance but the way he kissed you, left you with only one thought in mind.

“You should’ve told me you were so wet, sweetheart,” he groaned against your lips, “your panties are soaked.”

“Some of that is your fault,” you told him as your hand started to tug at the zipper of his pants.

“We’re gonna have to be quick,” he told you, letting out another groan as your hand reached into his pants to pull out his already semi-hard cock, “I think Karen already knows what we’re doing in here.”

“Less talking, more kissing,” you told him and Billy was glad to oblige, kissing you deeply while your hand stroked his cock.

You expected him to lift you up but, instead, you felt a gentle pressure on your hip, his hand urging you downwards. Eagerly, you dropped to your knees, your hand still running over his shaft. For a moment, you looked up at him, wanting nothing more than to tease and drive him crazy, but you knew that you didn’t have time for that.

Wrapping your lips around the thick tip of his cock, your hand continued to pump the shaft, feeling him getting harder and harder, and when he started to leak, your tongue greedily lapped it up.

He groaned your name, fisting your hair and bucking his hips forward, trapping you between him and the door as he thrust more of his cock between your lips. You gladly obliged him, pressing forwards and starting to give him what he wanted, listening to his barely contained grunts and groans. As he pushed closer, you found yourself trapped in place, with your head pressed back against the door as he took over completely. His hand stayed in your hair, holding you in place as he started to thrust in and out of your mouth, slowly at first and then a little quicker.

Your eyes stayed on his watching as, piece by piece, he seemed to start losing his mind. There was always something so real and so raw about moments like this with Billy, where you knew he was being driven by nothing but instinct and need. He needed you and, fuck, it felt good to be needed.

“Fuck,” he growled as you pressed your tongue against the underside of his shaft, drawing your cheeks in and sucking as he moved, pushing him closer and closer to the edge.

As his breathing got heavier and heavier, you braced yourself for his climax but, rather than coming, Billy suddenly pulled out of your mouth.

His hands pulled you up by your arms and, before you knew what he was doing, he’d manoeuvred you around the tiny bathroom and bent you over the skin. Your eyes found his in the mirror as he pulled up your dress and tore your panties. You bit your lip to stifle the moan that wanted to tear from you as his cock filled you.

With one hand on your hip and the other on your shoulder, Billy didn’t waste any time before he started to fuck you. Every time he thrust into you, you found your thighs knocking into the sink - it would probably leave bruises, but you didn’t care. You didn’t care about anything except Billy and the way he was making you feel.

But the way he was fucking you made it impossible to stay quiet, and you knew you were one loud moan away from everyong in the restaurant outside knowing exactly what you were doing. So, you took his hand from your shoulder and pulled it over your mouth. And Billy’s reaction in the mirror sent a thrill straight to your core. And, with his hand muffling your gasps of pleasure, his thrusts only got faster, rougher, giving you both what you so desperately needed.

You hand stayed pressed over his against your lips, making it feel like some tender and intimate thing and, for you and Billy, you supposed that was exactly what it was. This was who you were; two people so in loved, so stuck on each other that you couldn’t even make it through a whole meal with friends without wanting to fuck each others brains out. And perhaps that should have embarrassed you, but it didn’t.

You were so happy. So in love.

Billy leaned over you, his lips on your neck for a moment before finding your ear and muttering that one little word that was guaranteed to send you over the edge.

“Mine.”

That one little word felt like it set off fireworks inside you, your body trembling as his hand pressed tighter against your mouth muffling the moans of pleasure that tried to escape as your body trembled. Billy came a moment later, pressing his lips back to your neck to dampen his own growls and groans, his hips still moving slowly, making sure to draw out the moment for both of you.

When he finally pulled out, it took you a moment to stand back up, reaching for some tissue to try to clean yourself up. Smoothing your dress down, you laughed as Billy picked up the tattered remains of your panties from the floor and placed them in his pocket.

“When I move in with you, am I going to find a drawer full of all the panties you’ve ripped off me?” You joked, reaching for him and brushing a stray strand of hair away from his face.

“It’s the second drawer in my nightstand, but it’s nowhere near full. Yet.” Billy grinned, and you honestly couldn’t tell if he was joking, and you knew you’d have to check once you got back to the penthouse.

You checked your make-up in the mirror and made sure you didn’t look like you’d just been fucked by your boyfriend over the bathroom sink, before letting out a sigh. You didn’t want to go back out to the others, you wanted to stay with Billy, but it had already been almost ten minutes and they’d probably all already figured out what you’d been doing.

“I’ll go back out now,” you told him, slipping past him to reach the door, “you should wait another couple of minutes - pretend you got a call or something.”

Billy nodded and agreed, and you gave him one last little look before slipping out of the bathroom and returning to the table.

A few people had left in your absence, and everyone seemed to have moved further up the table to be closer to Karen, so you took the empty seat at her side, even though it put you a little closer to Frank than you would have liked.

Karen gave you a look and you knew that she knew exactly what you’d just been doing. Everyone kept talking for a moment until one topic ended and Curtis moved the spotlight to you.

“Karen was just telling us how you two are going on a long weekend to Mexico, you sure you don’t want some company.” Curtis joked.

“It’s a girls only weekend,” Karen answered.

“How’d you get Bill on board with that, anyway?” Frank asked, and everyone was gracious enough to ignore the way you almost flinched when he spoke to you.

“Get me on board with what?” Billy asked, as he sat behind you, making a show of putting his phone down as if he’d just been on a call.

You let out a sigh and shook your head.

“You didn’t tell him yet?” Karen asked and you turned to see Billy looking less than happy about having no idea why he was suddenly the centre of attention.

“Tell me what?” He was looking straight at you, and you hated that you were going to have to have this conversation straight after everything that had just happened between you.

“Me and Karen are going on a girls weekend to Mexico to celebrate my job with The Bulletin. I was going to tell you last night, but...” you didn’t have to say it, Billy knew that you’d both been a little distracted by thoughts of you meeting his mother.

“Oh, okay,” he shrugged like it was nothing, and you had to hold back a sigh of relief.

Tense moment averted, the conversation continued and your hand found his on the table, giving it a tight squeeze as a silent thank you. You’d talk about it later, you’d explain to him how you wanted a little break from the city and - well, it was only going to be for three nights, and once you got back you’d be ready to move in with him. But, thankfully, as far as you could tell Billy was fine with it. So, instead of worrying, you just enjoyed the rest of the evening, waiting until you could go home with Billy.

Chapter Twenty-Two

END NOTES : So, after some drama they're back to their normal selves. I know the last few chapters have been a little bit heavy, so hopefully this one is more of a fun read. Also sorry it's a little later than usual, I got busier than expected this week.

As always, thanks for reading , and a big thanks to those who follow, like, comment and reblog! I hope you all have a wonderful weekend!

If you want adding/removing from the tag list let me know (I know it’s not working for everyone - if it’s not working and you don’t want to miss a chapter, I post every Friday around 7:30pm gmt)

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gojoidyll · 7 months

Text

Infinity

Yandere ! Gojo Satoru x Female ! Reader

Part 3 | my world

Warnings | death , depictions of blood , jealousy , executions

Notes | this fic will be using she/her pronouns for y/n. Also this is a reincarnation fic, so Gojo's name will not be "Satoru" in this part. And please let me know if you want to be in a taglist for this series !! ^-^

Summary | And I'd choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I'd find you and I'd choose you.

Infinity Masterlist

year 1102 AD

GOJO SHIRO got to meet y/n's friends that day. And to say the least, he wasn't impressed. He came to meet with them almost everyday after that for four months straight. But no matter how much he hung with them... he didn't care for them a single bit. And to be honest, they seemed to like bullying y/n more than actually playing fun games. Hell, during a simple game of hide-n-seek where y/n was the seeker her so called friends tried to get him to ditch her while she counted.

"Come on, come on! We have a lot of cool stuff to show you, Shiro!"

"What about y/n? She's still counting."

One of the girls snickered unto her palm, "that dummy can't even count to two. Last time she was the seeker, she was literally there counting for a whole five minutes!"

Gojo frowned, "its not her fault she can't count as good as you or me-"

"Duh, that's because she's stupid and poor! We only let her play with us cause her mom bakes us sweets from time to time, but even that is starting to not even be worth it," a boy of the group piped up this time.

And the others joined in.

And Gojo had enough of it, "be quiet already. Who gave you all permission to cut me off?"

The laughter was quick to die down and one of the girls was quick to speak up, hurt laced in her voice.

"Come on, Shiro. We're just having fun, and we didn't mean to cut you off while you were talking. So how about we go and-"

"I said to be quiet, or are you peasants too stupid to understand an order from your future lord?"

The girl said nothing else as Gojo crossed his arms over his chest, "also, you all will refer to me as Lord Gojo from now on because last time I checked I only ever gave Y/n permission to call me Shiro. The only reason why I let you all call me Shiro when we first met four months ago was because you all seemed to be friends with y/n. Though, it looks like I was wrong."

Gojo looked away from the other children and focused his piercing blue eyes onto y/n's figure. She was covering her eyes with her arms, head pressed into the tree's trunk as she hunched over a little and still continued to count. The sight made him smile a little before his face hardened when he turned a glare back onto the group.

"Now that I made that clear, I don't want any of you to speak to me or to y/n again. Understand?"

No one spoke up so he activated his cursed technique. A blue wave seeming to coat around him as he took a step towards them.

"Do. You. Understand?"

"Y- yes, Lord Gojo!"

They seemed to yell in unison as they scurried off to who knows where and frankly, he didn't care. All that mattered to him now was that he would get to be with y/n without the extra tagalongs. Honeslty, he wished he did that four months ago right at the moment he met those other kids. But alas, he didn't want to scare y/n away.

So, smiling happily and skipping over to the still counting girl. He had tackled her into a hug from behind. His arms gently wrapping around her waist as he roughly pulled her against him. Her back pressing snuggly into his chest.

Goodness he wished they were older. He wished they were married. He wished they were already together and living happily in his big estate.

But that would have to wait. For now, he was content with being a very touchy and huggy friend.

"Wha- hey! S- Shiro! What are you doing?! You're supposed to be hiding!"

She whined and pouted and hit at his arms as he spun her around in his embrace.

"No way! Hiding is so boring! Hugging you seems way more fun!"

She whined again and turned in his grasp. Her face tilting up as she tried to glare at him, but to Gojo she just looked too cute while trying to be angry. It made him want to pinch her cheeks which was exactly what he did when he let her go.

"Uwahhh! Shiroooo!"

He couldn't help but to laugh and when he finally let go of her chubby cheeks, she started to laugh too. The both of them shoving and pushing at each other until they were falling to the ground and having fun.

Gojo feverishly wished he had this back in his first life. Wished he found her sooner back then. But this would do. He could be content with this.

And as night fell, the two would wander around the city until they came upon a lake. Gojo childishly pushing her as she would fall to the ground on her back and he would follow. The two smiling at one another as the dark sky and stars and moon hung above them.

"You know Shiro.."

"Hmm?"

He turned on his side and propped up on his elbow. His cheek resting in his hand.

"You remind me of the moon!"

"The moon," he questioned, "but what of the sun! Thats much brighter!"

She shook her head, "mm, at first you were the sun.. someone I couldn't even look at without getting blinded, but..," she grinned and lunged for him. Her arms wrapping around his neck as she tackled him into a hug, "but when I got to know you over these past few months I realized you were more like the moon! Still untouchable and impossible to reach, but someone I can look at and admire without getting blinded!"

He was surprised by the hug, her explanation, and the heat creeping up onto his face. His arms were quick to encircle her waist as he hugged her back.

"Well.. if I'm the moon then you can be the earth!"

"Huh?! Why am I the earth all the sudden?!"

She pouted as she looked at him and he couldn't stop his grin from forming, "cause i want you to be the world i revolve around forever and ever!"

She let his words sink in before giggling, the two resuming their playful pushing, shoving, and tickling as they rolled on the ground like two kids rough-housing.

"Ok! You can be my moon and I can your world! Deal?"

"Deal!"

Yeah, Gojo wanted this to last.

However, he realized his mistake a bit too late. Because in the next few days. She would be gone.

Well, he didn't realize she was gone at first. In fact, that next morning he woke up on the good side of the bed. He was smiling and thinking of yesterday where it was just him and y/n and no other kids ruining their moments together.

"Are you going out again young lord?"

Urumei asked him like she always did, she was, of course, his retainer. When she first took on the job, she thought it would be hard watching over the young lord since he had the six eyes and the biggest ego to boot. However, overtime she noticed that once you leave the young lord alone and let him go on about his business - he is actually quite easy to handle.

"Indeed!"

Urumei smiled politely, "are you going to see y/n again?"

"As always."

Urumei bowed, "with all due respect, young lord, but why don't you bring her to the estate?"

Gojo seemed to pause as his eyes flicked over to Urumei. The retainer internally panicking as she wondered if she overstepped her bounds.

But her panic was soon eased away as Gojo clapped his hands together. A bright smile overtaking his features, "thats a great idea! I could bring her here, let her bathe properly, get her dressed in a fine kimono too, and maybe she could even stay the night!"

Gojo was estactic as he rushed out of the compound, "see you later, Urumei!"

As he ran along the streets, he easily spotted the girl he was looking for.

"Y/n!"

Turning to the sound of her name, she immediately dropped what she was doing and ran to him. Her arm coming up high into the air as she waved to him, "hiiiiii Shiiiiiirrroooooo!"

She drawled out his name, a habit she started to do everytime she would greet him in the mornings when they were still far from each other. And it was a habit Shiro cherished greatly.

Coming up fast, he immediately engulfed her into his arms. Honestly, holding her so close was starting to get addictive.

And when he brought her in, she was already laughing when he spun them around. Many of the onlookers could only chuckle at the cute display before going on about their business. I mean, the twelve year old was still the next head of the Gojo clan and the next lord of the land. Of course no one would dare interrupt them.

After a for more seconds, he had finally set her down. Her smile to on her face as she seemed to get shy all of a sudden. His six eyes quickly catching on to the change in demeanor.

"Oh? Getting shy again?"

He pouted, "and here i thought we were past all that.."

She panicked for a moment as she waved her hands in front of her, "its not that! It's just .. well ..," she kicked her bare foot against the ground. Ever since he met her, he took notice how she never worn any shoes and that she only had three kimonos that she went through on a cycle. He hated seeing her live in such a way, but he needed to become a lord first in and the clan's head if he hopped to marry her and give her the life and luxury she deserved.

"Well," he urged politely as they moved over to the side more so they weren't blocking the street.

"Today is my .. twelfth birthday and I was wondering .. if you would like to come to my house? Its ok if you don't want to of course, I tried to ask our other friends, but they all declined."

She looked at him for a response but froze internally when he had a blank look on his face. Ah- was i not supposed to ask him?! Were we not on a close enough friend level that I could ask him to come to my brithday?!

"Y/n," he pouted again, "why didn't you tell me today was going to be your birthday?! I would of gotten you something!"

She was quick to shake her head from side to side, "n- no! No way! You're my friend, i could never ask you to get me anything! Besides, I..I didn't befriend you cause I wanted you to get me things.. I- I befriended you cause I," she paused and smiled, "cause you looked lonely and needed a friend!"

An invisible arrow was aimed and shot precisely through his heart.

"Uwah, you're so sweet!"

He immediately glomped her and started to pinch her cheeks.

"Wha-?! Shiiiiroooo! Not in front of everyone!"

And just the like, bringing y/n to the estate was thrown out the window as he let her take control of the day and basically let her tug him around the whole city. Her eyes wide as she pointed at a various of things. Her laughter like music to his ears.

He even got to meet her mother at the end. She was a kind woman though she looked just as tired as her daughter on some days. Though, she still managed to smile and present them both with a cake from the shop she managed to run on her own.

And when the day came to an end, Gojo promised to see her tomorrow.

Though, tomorrow for y/n, he would soon learn, would never come.

The next day, he held a box in hand. In it was a perfectly crafted wooden comb with a pretty blue flower design etched onto it which he had bought last night on the way home in hopes of gifting it to y/n today. Granted, he knows she said she didn't want him to buy anything, but he couldn't help himself. He truly couldn't. He wanted to gift her the whole city (which he technically could one day once he becomes the lord of the land..).

"Young lord, off to see y/n again?"

"As always," Gojo replied as per usual.

Urumei grinned and nodded, "I was under the impression that you would bring her to the estate yesterday, why the change of heart, young lord?"

Gojo stopped and turned to the retainer, "well, yesterday was her birthday, so I decided to let her choose what she wanted to do today instead if dragging her to a place she's never been before."

Urumei chuckled and noted the small wooden box in his hands, "is that why you're gifting her that present?"

"Yep! She said she didn't want anything, but I couldn't help myself. Anyway, I'll see you later Urumei!"

"Of course, young lord. Be sure to have fun!"

"I will!"

Now as he walked the streets, box in hand, he noticed that she wasn't in their usual waiting spot. Which was odd. And as impatient as he is, Shiro decided to just head straight for her house which he had memorized the day prior.

Coming up to the house, he couldn't help but to get a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach as he saw a crowd of people gathered in front of the place. His eyes narrowed, his lips pressed into a tight line. He threw the feeling away and told himself y/n will be just fine. Ill see her smiling at me like any other day.

Though as he ordered the throngs of people to move out of his way, he was instead met with a gruesome sight instead.

Four children, y/n's bullies, were being held tightly by two jujutsu sorcerers and in front of them was y/n. Stab wounds littering her body as she laid dead in a pool of her own blood. Her mother was crying loud as she cradled y/n's limp hand in her own grasp. Her tears flowing like a river.

The blood on the ground started to seep closer to him as if reaching out to him.

His shoes got stained red when he moved forward to get closer and as reality set in the same silent rage from his first life finally took over.

"What happened."

It was a question, but a demand.

One of the jujutsu sorcerers spoke first, "we got a report saying that a little girl was screaming and being attacked. We originally thought it was a cursed spirit, but found these four having killed the girl."

Gojo turned to y/n's mother who was still weeping. She must of heard the news and came rushing from work because from what he understood, y/n's mother always left early for work to start cooking at the bakery in the city. Which meant that y/n would be all alone. Perfect to be ambushed by these four.

His six eyes, brilliant, dangerous, and a heavy blue was finally directed at the four children.

"Why?"

He didn't need to ask, because he already knew. They most likely saw y/n as filth. Trash that shouldn't be anywhere near him. When were people going to learn to never cross him?

"We-"

"Silence. I changed my mind, I don't want to hear the excuses you four come up with. You two, let go of them."

The two sorcerers bowed and listened to Gojo immediately. The four twelve year old before him gaining a sort of hope in their eyes. But he wasn't having it as he raised his hands.

"Be grateful, your deaths will be quick."

And that was when realization dawned on them, but it was too late for them to run.

"Hollow purple."

It wasn't everyday the Gojo clan carried out public executions, but even so, no one dared ask why four twelve years died because of the murder of some no name girl.

And that night, after he and y/n's mother gave y/n a proper burial, Gojo Shiro promised to see her in the next life. He clutched the comb close to his chest.

He and y/n just had to be reincarnated again, right?

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo satoru #gojo #female reader #yandere #yandere gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere gojo satoru x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #satoru gojo x y/n #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you

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mediumgayitalian · 1 month

Text

previous chapter

———

The sunlight disorients him.

Usually, he wakes to a blaring alarm. If he has no alarm set, nothing planned for the day, he wakes when he cannot physically stand the taste of his own breath anymore, stumbling out of bed and ambling like a zombie for the nearest toothbrush. (On rare, rare occasions, he wakes to humming – low, drawling, lilting, floating around his darkened room, brightening it. He dreams about those mornings.)

He cannot remember the last time he woke to gentle sun.

Stretching, he takes a minute to catalogue the space as he wakes up, noticing the light curtains over wide windows, small TV tucked in between two double beds, and a desk, larger than he would have expected, taking up the far right corner.

Will is nowhere to be found.

“Jogging, mebbe,” Nico mumbles to himself; tiny, forgotten accent slipping out before he can stop it. Gingerly, he peels off the blankets and pads to the bathroom. Will’s blue-capped toothbrush sits next to the sink, quelling Nico’s ridiculous anxiety that Will, actually, has never been here at all, and Nico dreamed this whole thing up. He smiles slightly at the dorky stickers plastered all over the handle, colour mostly worn away, and the watch forgotten next to the soap dispenser.

He hears a heavy door open and shut, pausing to make out quiet footsteps over the running water. Quickly rinsing the suds off his face, he towels off and steps back out into the hotel room, watching his friend.

Will has his back turned, hunched over the desk. He wears a hoodie, blue with big white clouds all over it – his favourite – and, of course, horrible cargo shorts. Nico counts seven pockets, and that’s just what he can see from the back. There is a book shoved in two of them, keys hanging out of a third, and an apple bulging from the pocket near his hip.

“Morning.”

Will jumps, whirling around.

“You scared the shit outta me!”

“Sorry,” Nico says, not sorry. He’s grinning. “Were you out for a run?”

“I was out for a run hours ago, yes. It’s, like, ten-thirty, dude. You’ve been sleeping for eight hundred years.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” They’ve had this argument more times than he can physically count, he refuses to have it again when he doesn’t have the upper hand. He’ll bring it up again when Will’s sleepy again at nine o’clock. “Where were you?”

Will steps to the side, revealing three separate heaping plates of food on the desk, piled high with eggs, toast, a muffin, bacon, and, of course, an entire plate devoted to fruit. Nico descends upon it like a swarm of seagulls upon a terrorized child’s ice cream cone – with fury, insatiable hunger, and endless hubris. He makes sure to ignore the fruit.

Five minutes later, he’s satiated enough to turn a percentage of his attention away from the food. He spins the desk chair halfway to face Will, instead, curled up on the bed with one knee pulled to his chest, watching him fondly.

“How many times did you almost drop this on the way up?” he asks around a mouthful of bacon.

Will’s smile drops, eyes narrowing. “Shut up.”

“Four floors, and there’s a good chance you took the stairs to keep the elevators for ‘someone who needs them more’, so –”

“I hate you.”

“– I’m guessing one time per flight of stairs? Oh, wait, there are three plates, definitely more –”

“I’m never doing anything nice for you ever again.”

“– and you have a new band-aid on your knee, so you definitely tripped and dropped it at least once.” He pops the last of the bacon in his mouth, smiling wickedly. “Twice? Three times? If you don’t tell me I’m going to assume six and move on.”

Will’s glare intensifies. He mumbles something.

“Hm?”

He mumbles again. Nico doesn’t even pretend not to be delighted. He knows the smile on his face is wide enough to make him look deranged, he simply doesn’t care. Opportunities to press Will’s buttons this beautiful do not show up every day. He must treasure them.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“Hadtogoback.”

“Gonna have to speak up, bud.”

“I had to go back!” Will explodes, hands thrown in the air. “I fuckin’ – I dropped the stupid plates, the first time, so I had to fuckin’ – clean it up and – two stupid trips, you jerk, you better appreciate this –”

Nico almost bites through his lip. “You dropped it?”

“I didn’t mean to!” Will says defensively. “I was concentrating really hard but –”

Nico loses it.

“– my shoe got caught on the last step and I didn’t have any hands to catch myself.” He scowls. “Three people saw.”

He can’t breathe. There are genuine, actual tears streaming down his face, burn in his eyes almost as bad as the burn in his lungs, the ache in his belly. He wraps his shaking arms around himself in an attempt to hold himself together, laughing so hard he feels like his muscles might actually rip themselves off his bones. Every time he tries to calm down, he pictures Will, in his dorky flip-flops, egg in his hair, half a muffin crushed on his cheek, bright red, sprawled on the ground, food everywhere. If he could think of literally anything else, he’d be worried about his heart straight-up failing.

“I hate you. Actually.”

“I’m – oh my God,” he wheezes. He manages, finally, to get an actual breath in, desperately trying to think of literally anything else to calm down. Fucking – bumper to bumper traffic. Bedbugs. His father’s frowning face. That always works. “Holy shit, Will.”

“I should’ve just woken your ungrateful ass up.”

“Probably.” He flicks a grape at him, smiling. Will catches it in his mouth, rolling his eyes but smiling back. “Glad you didn’t.”

“Whatever.”

Nico finishes the rest of his breakfast in relative peace, managing to turn away if his mouth threatens to betray the tentative truce they’ve negotiated. He even eats one entire peach when Will starts pelting him with tiny hotel soap bottles and listing side effects of cholesterol-induced heart disease.

The second he finishes the last bite, Will orders him to clear off the desk. Nico mutters about bossiness and how Will is most definitely not in charge of him, doing as he asks. When he comes back – took him a hot second to shove the paper plates into a small enough ball to fit in the garbage can – Will has dragged the desk over to the bed, sitting criss-cross next to it, examining one of the many papers he has covering it.

“So,” he says, gesturing next to him. Nico dutifully sits, peering at the various maps and markings. “We gotta plan part two.”

“Didn’t we already do this?” Nico asks. “Back at Dunkin’s?”

“Not this far. I wanted to Preserve the Spontaneous Road Trip Spirit.” Nico can hear the capitalization.

“So, planning, then.”

“Yes, exactly.”

Nico smiles. “Brief me, captain.”

Will jumps right in, pointing and gesturing and every once and a while catching Nico’s eye to ask, right? Sound good?

Nico just watches him.

The midday sun shines directly in his face, catching and reflecting on his pale eyelashes, making his eyes go squinty. His excitement is obvious, in his chattering, his waving hands, his bouncing curls; every part of him moving. Even his stupid cargo shorts look endearing, every other pocket bulging, filled absentmindedly with slips of paper or pens or bandaids or granola bars. Nico watches him and feels he might burst.

“You’re not listening,” Will accuses.

Nico jumps back into focus. “Yes I am.”

“What’d I just say?”

“‘You’re not listening’.”

WIll cracks a smile. “You’re not funny.”

“Run over that again,” Nico answers, and grins devilishly when Will does. Not funny his ass.

He listens, though, through Will’s second explanation. It’s not too hard – Will’s always been organised. The wide penciled circle around their location in Atlanta, outlining the area they can drive before their next fuel stop, is pretty wide. But the options are limited, in Nico’s opinion – while he’s sure there is indeed something to do in South Carolina, there’s nothing to do for him, specifically. He’s cool with skipping it.

“There is one place we can go,” Will says. His voice has gone oddly quiet, and after at minute he glances over at Nico, like he’s waiting for his permission.

“Your road trip, dude,” he murmurs, nudging their shoulders together. “I’ll even go to South Carolina if you want to, but no promises that I won’t complain about it.”

That, thankfully, draws a huff out of him, some of the tenseness fading from his frame.

“South Carolina is beautiful, you know.”

“Says the boy who is currently visiting his third state ever.”

“...Touché.” He taps his pencil on the map, pink eraser thunking somewhere in the Bermuda triangle. “I was thinking – we could try Nashville? Music Row, or Broadway?”

Nico groans. “Oh, of course you wanna go hang out with all the goddamn hillbillies, you fuckin’ country boy –”

“It’s good music!”

Nico groans louder. Secretly, though, he watches his friend out of the corner of his eye, watches as his shoulders slump, relieved, and he knows he’ll spend as long as he needs in lasso-slingin’ Tennessee, following Will in and out of – barns and ranches and cowboy boot shops, probably. Are saloons still a thing?

He has a feeling that there is more to Will’s hesitance than a fear about being judged for his Marty Robbins obsession. If Tennessee is where he’s gonna get answers – well. He’ll brave the goddamn sea of cowboy hats.

A knock at the door startles them both. A voice calls hesitantly through the door: “Mr. di Angelo?”

“Wrong door, probably,” Will whispers after a moment. He looks to Nico. “Right?”

There’s another knock. “Mr. di Angelo?”

“Yeah.” Nico rolls of the bed, landing on the floor with a grunt. “Another room with a Mr. di Angelo.”

He creeps towards the door, keeping low as if whoever’s outside can see him. After a moment, the bed creaks, and Will’s quiet footsteps pad behind him.

“You think it’s room service?” Will whispers, plastered to the opposite side of the door. Even ducking, his hair brushes the edge of the peephole.

Nico shoves his head down, pinching him when he squawks. “Be quiet, tall person, I need to see.”

“Get a stepstool then, jerk! Stop using my neck as a lever!”

“What part of be quiet are you missing! God!”

“Mr. di Angelo, please open the door.”

The voice on the other side of the door sounds amused. Face flaming, Nico shoves Will somewhere behind him, still bitching, and swings open the door.

“Good afternoon,” says the man in the hallway. He’s dressed very smartly in a tailored black suit, nametag reading Eric. “Are you Mr. di Angelo?”

Nico clears his throat, trying to stand taller. “That’s me.”

“Good. I’m with Hotel Administration. We received a fax for you this morning?” He hands Nico a manilla folder. “First page says confidential, so we put it in the envelope. We tried to call this morning but didn’t get any response.”

Vaguely, Nico remembers a ringing phone. He also remembers yanking the plug out of the wall in sleep-deprived rage.

Oops.

Ignoring Will’s snickering, Nico thanks the man, closing the door and sitting on the nearest bed. Will scooches over to make room for him, tossing and catching a pillow. Nico leans back against the headboard, crossing his leg over Will’s.

“What’s in the envelope?”

“Checking now.”

The envelope is the cheap kind you get in a box of fifty; speckled brown, thin, machine-cut. It’s not sealed and so Nico flips it open easily, sliding out a small stack of papers. The first is a huge CONFIDENTIAL, printed diagonally across otherwise blank paper. The second is a bank statement.

Nico shoots upright.

“What? Nico, what’s –”

“Mr. di Angelo, we regret to lose your business,’” Nico recites in a shaking voice, “‘but appreciate your time with us and wish you all the best with your future banking.’”

Frantically, he scans the document again. Successful cancellation. Expedited closure date. Transferred affairs to –

– parent account.

“–co? Nico? Can you please tell me what’s going on?”

The air pushes out of Nico’s lungs like a crushed balloon. “Fuck.”

“Nico.” Warm hands press on his bloodless cheeks, fingers sliding in his hair. “Nico, look at me.”

He gasps. Will squeezes gently, eyes dark and stern and kind, thumbs callus-rough and dragging across his cheekbones.

“Good. Again. There you go, you got it.”

Nico grabs his wrists when he tries to pull away. Will takes the hint, sliding his hands under Nico’s free one and knocking their shoulders together.

“What’s wrong, Nico?”

Instead of answering, Nico sets the papers on the bed between them. Will squints, and for a second Nico prays that he’s wrong, that he’s mixed up the words. That it doesn’t say what it knows it does.

Then Will inhales, quick and sharp, and the hope is dashed.

“Your card…”

“Next page,” Nico says softly.

Niccolò,

The papers rustle as Will flips them, and this one he takes much longer to read.

Vorrei sapere che ho fermato un caso di frode alla radice.

After a minute, he holds it out, shaking his head.

Un criminale ha rubato la tua carta di credito, e l’ha usata per comprare una stanza d’albergo in Georgia. Qualche spacciatore, non ci sono dubbi.

“It’s a little formal, I can’t –”

Ho disattivato la carta, naturalmente. Ti darò quella nuova appena ti vedrò.

Nico takes the scanned letter. Vaguely, he registers Will’s hands brushing up his arms as they move two wrap around his face again, this time forcing his jaw to unclench.

“Power play,” Nico snarls. His clenched fingers wrinkle the pulpy paper. “He knows exactly where I am. If he wanted to drag me home, he could drag me by the fucking –”

“But instead he’s forcing you to call him,” Will says softly. “Oh, Nico, I’m so sorry.”

The hands drop from his face again. It knocks the cloudiness right out of Nico’s head, and he snaps up, frowning at Will’s crooking fingers, the bitten lips. He won’t meet Nico’s eyes.

“Why are you sorry my father’s being a haughty jackass who suddenly cares what I do with my time?”

“And his money.” Will picks up the bank statement, reading over it again, and again, like it might change. Like Nico’s credit card will magically become un-cancelled, like they will suddenly become un-stranded. “This whole stupid thing is my fault. I never should have dragged you into it, Neeks, I’m so –”

“If you apologise again I’m going to push you off the bed.”

“– sorry.”

“Will.” Nico snatches back the statement, shaking his head. He waits until blue eyes meet his then smiles, as reassuringly as he can with such a pit in his stomach. “My father is –” He sighs. “It’s not about the money. You know he doesn’t care about the money.”

Will shrugs. It’s true – Nico has made dumber purchases. When he was twelve, he bought a trampoline, just to see if his father would say anything. Fifteen, marble statue. Sixteen, a car.

Then he stopped trying.

“How far can we go, on the gas we have? How many miles?”

Will shrugs. “Three and a half hours? Four, if we push it?”

“And on a full tank of gas?”

“Almost six.”

“And then we’re stuck.”

“And then we’re stuck, yeah. Unless you got Greyhound money hidden somewhere.”

Nico sighs, dragging a hand down his face. “That’s what he wants, Will. He doesn’t care about the – about the stupid money. He wants me. He wants me to ask, rather, to pick up a phone and beg him to come get us ‘cause we have no other options. He wants me to admit I need his help.”

The first time he ran away, he’d had to avoid every cop car. He knew he was being looked for, he saw his own face plastered on news screens. It had only been a matter of time. The second attempt was – easier. Much easier. He’d hardly even had to hide his face. By the third time, he’d waited a week, waited almost a month, before he was cold and hungry and walked to the nearest social services building himself. The car ride home, the humiliation so potent he could taste the bitterness of it, had made the cold, rainy nights with nothing but the same ratty hoodie he’d worn when he left worth it. He swore he’d never subject himself to that again.

And yet here he is.

Out of options.

“You know what? No.” In a swift, unstoppable movement, Will snatches the stack of papers, ripping them into four pieces faster than Nico can reach an arm out to stop him. “We’re not doing this.”

“Will – what –”

He throws himself off the bed, stomping over to his backpack. A folded pair of socks goes flying over his shoulder, a book hits the ground with a heavy thunk. His muttering grows louder, cursing interspersed between every word.

“What are you –”

“We are not dealing with this right now.” With a frustrated finally, Will yanks a bag of something out of his backpack, stomping back towards the bed. He throws a Ziploc bag onto the duvet, and it bounces once, twice, three times before splitting open and spilling quarters everywhere.

“What the hell is –”

“You already payed for the room, right?”

Nico snaps his jaw shut. “Yes.”

“And it’s Saturday.”

“I – it is, yeah.”

“Not a business day.”

“No.”

“Well.” Will nods. “Bank’s closed. Hotel can’t process anything, and they have no reason to suspect your card, which worked just fine last night, is gonna bounce. We’ve got a day of breathing room, at least, and I don’t want to think about it.”

He holds up a hand when Nico starts to argue, grim set to his mouth giving way to something a little sharper, a little more dangerous.

“We might not be old enough to gamble, but when you’re in Atlanta, you do as the Atlantians do.” He meets Nico’s eye, grinning. “You still any good Street Fighters?”

———

next chapter

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sopiao · 8 months

Note

HAI!! I LUV ALL OF UR WORK THEY GOT ME GIGGLIN AND SHIT 🤭🤭

can i request a young teen reader (like 15-16) being watched over and taken care of by their body guards, the 141. like. they’re sick and is part of a dangerous chain, they get hired to take care of you and just overall body guard you???

pls ignore this if this is too much or if you don’t feel like it! be safe!

EHYDHEHSHEHS TY TY TY!!!

this idea is actually so cute. i struggled trying to think for this 🤐

Tossing and turning in your hospital bed, you already read every book that was gifted to you and brought from your home. Already watched every show on the TV. Already made like a couple hundred paper cranes out of boredom. Hell, you’ve been here so long the flowers you got, when you were first admitted, has already wilted and died due to lack of sunlight. That’s how you felt

A soft knock on the door made you sit up immediately. You saw your doctor, your mom, and four strange men. Your mom never explained what she did, expect that you could never get involved in it, and never know what she did. All you knew is that it was dangerous, but she made lots of money from it so she could give you a comfortable life.

As always, she gave you a short and subtle explanation, as always. She introduced the men, but you took little to no interest in this. All you know was that you weren’t safe in a public hospital and had to stay somewhere more private and secluded.

Something like “Mommy got caught up with some people and you need to take a trip” You hated every time she baby explained something to you. You aren’t 5.

—

The car ride there was quite, Ghost having to hold his arm up the entire ride to keep your IV running. You already knew that you’d never be alone from that point on, always being monitored and with someone.

“We already prepared a room for you” Price explained, only earning a hum from you as a response. They didn’t find your silence and lack in response or communication rude or ignorant, just understood that some people like to talk and some don’t. Your room was right in the middle of the hallway, in between everyone else’s, assuming it was for your safety in case anyone found you.

Price let you open the door to see your reaction. The room was.. cozy. In a way. You can tell they tried. There were soft white fairy lights across the lining of the ceiling. It was a quilted comforter with many different patterns. Books laid out in the bed side table for you, ones you never read before. Soft rugs, and a huge and a plushy bean bag.

But what caught your attention the most was the overwhelming amount of stuffed animals that littered the bed. You wanted to laugh but only let out a little chuckle, the only other sound from you the entire time you were with them, aside from the occasional hum response.

They all watched cautiously as you slowly entered the room, looking around and inspecting each little trinket of the room they added, Ghost having to follow behind to keep your IV bag dripping.

“Is it okay for you?” Soap is the first to speak up, all watching how you just sit at the foot of the bed and just look around, noticing something new each second. Wow, they even got you the white princess canopy you wanted when you were like five. Even the skele-animals plushie you wanted six years ago. Most likely your mom told them about this. A for effort.

“Yeah, its… good” You softly nod, Soap and Gaz smile to each other.

“Told ya” you heard subtly from Gaz who stuck his tongue out at Ghost who just rolls his eyes and turn away, who starts to attach your IV bag to the metal pole. They’re hesitant to leave you by yourself, but you insist that you’ll just take a nap for a little bit.

—

A couple hours later, lunch, Price reminds Ghost to go in and ask you what you’d like for lunch. They can eat whenever they want, their more concerned for you. When he hears silence after knocking four separate times, not wanting to intrude on you. He just assumes that you’re still sleeping.

His heart drops to his stomach once he sees the bed empty, and you’re IV pole gone. He rushes into the house’s living room, alerting his teammates. First they do a scan of the house, maybe you wanted to use the bathroom, or check out the other rooms. When the rooms are empty they start to check out the outside, spreading out.

Price finds you in the backyard. Sighing as he relaxes and un-tense his body, slowly making his way towards you. You’re crouched in the ground, back facing him, with your IV pole standing beside you. His shadow looms over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, though you don’t say or do anything, just continuing watching the ants climb in and out of the small ant hill.

His shadow looks over you, signaling you that there’s someone behind you, but it doesn’t alarm you. You just continue staring how the ants follow in one singular line.

“Gave us a scare there, kid” Price grunts as he crouches down next to you, wondering what’s so interesting about them, earning the usual hum in response, the only time you’ve acknowledged his presence.

“What’re ya’ lookin’ at?” Price turns to look at you, hugging your knees and chin resting atop of them. He watches you use a twig to push a stray ant back in line.

“Y’know if you wanna go out, you should come and tell us, bring us along” He says in a tone that tries to convince you that they wanna spend time, but is really so you won’t be alone.

“Mhm”

—

Day 2. And you’re still stuck in this hospital gown. You try to look through the dresser and drawers for any clothes, or at least fresh underwear, or clean socks. But when you find the wooden drawers empty you escort yourself and the metal pole, you’re growing used to, to the living room where they’re all playing card games.

They don’t notice your presence yet, focusing on whether the other has the card they need or not. So, you just stand and stare at them, for a good 4 minutes until Gaz catches you in the corner of his eye. Jumping and dropping all his cards face up on the table.

They all laugh then turn once they realize that Gaz is staring at the hallway. Soap clears his throat and asks what you need while Price puts out his cigar to keep you from inhaling the fumes.

“I need clothes” Is all you said. The same expression plastered on their faces, just remembering that they forgot something.

“That’s what it was” Soap mutters.

“Told you we were missing something, idiot” Ghost scolds him, seems like a usual occurrence.

They end up having to drive to the nearest Goodwill to buy you some clothes. They knew that if your mother found out she’d be displeased, but you insisted that it’s where you wanted. You couldn’t leave and go around public in your hospital gown since it’ll raise suspicion.

Which caused you to have to borrow some of their clothes for the time being. Had to borrow Gaz’s pants since he’s the shortest from all of them, thought by only an inch, it was the closest size to you. It draped over you and covered your shoes. Soap offered his shirt which reached your thighs. Had a tear in the bottom.

Ghost decided to stay and stick with you while you picked up clothes, watching intently in what you picked out and what you looked at, holding up your IV, but not too high to make it that noticeable. Noting what you took interest in, processing your style.

“Didn’t know these still existed” Price came up to the two of you with Soap behind him, holding up a cassette player in his hand. Soap had an old digital camera, looking through the photos.

“You should get it, Cap’” Soap suggests, getting bored with the camera. You’re still looking through clothes, but still listening to them talk.

“What the hell would I even do with this?” He chuckles, inspecting the inside and each button to see if it’s functional— and not laced with crack.

“Mm-mm Just to have it?” Soap shrugs, taking the clothes out from your arm to hold for you, and to look at.

“That’s stupid”.

“They have cassettes at the front” You speak up, making them all look at you, since you never speak unless absolutely needed. They’re happy that you’re slowly getting comfortable to speak but don’t want to say anything to jinx it. Price just makes his way towards the front to look for them, you can tell by the little rushed way he walks that he’s enjoying himself.

You find a Dio shirt in the racks, their band dates and locations on the back, like something you’d by from a concert.

“Do people still listen to them?” Ghost whispers, mostly to himself, you can tell his interested. Never would’ve thought that he’d be into that band. You add it into your stash, laying it on your arm. When you get back to the house you end up giving it to him since ‘It doesn’t fit. Too big’ by what you said.

—

Gaz couldn’t sleep at all, it was way too hot. He walked out of his room, using the bottom of his shirt to wipe his face. He entered the kitchen to grab a glass of water but almost screams when he sees you by the counter, sitting on the edge with a sandwich in your hand.

“If you were hungry you should’ve woken one of us up” He sighed, hand on his chest to calm himself down, worried when he saw the knife next to you covered in nutella.

“No. Too much work. Didn’t wanna bother” You shook your head, already half way through your sandwich. He chuckled, looking through the fridge for the water pitcher.

“What did ya’ make?” Gaz asked, leaning against the counter next to you, taking a long gulp from his glass.

“Nutella and Cheerio’s” You take another big bite from your sandwich. He cringes at how sweet it must be but laughs at how often he’s tried it late at night too.

You two sit together in silence, occasional crunch from you eating your sandwich and a watery sip from Gaz. After you finish he asks if your full, shaking your head he offers to make you something. Looking up at him then nodding while muttering a thanks.

He makes you go sit in the living room and watch TV while he prepares something. There wasn’t much in the house but he made do with what he had in the house. After an episode and a half of The Amazing World of Gumball he came to the couch with two BLT sandwiches and two cans of soda.

“Didn’t even know we had bacon” You mutter to yourself as Gaz already starts eating, a muffled response you couldn’t really make out. You both just sit in silence once again, less awkward and more comfortable this time, as you both ate the food he prepped.

It was nice. Just eating sandwiches while watching cartoons at 2:14 in the morning.

—

You felt weak today, more than usual. Deciding to take a quick 20 minute nap, you wake up to loud talking, occasionally arguing accompanied by laughing, which made you a little irritated but you felt more energized.

Taking your IV pole with you, at this point you considered it a friend that followed you, you make your way to the living room, they’re all circled around the coffee table, either on the couch or on the floor.

You take a minute to watch before speaking up. Making them all jump when they notice your presence.

“What’re you doing?” You take a couple steps forward to look over their shoulders and see a Monopoly board and Monopoly money spread across the table.

“Wanna play?” Soap cocks his head to the side, scooting over to make room for you.

“I’ll watch” You take the empty spot next to him as they begin playing, less profanity and vulgar language this time, but still the same energy. Slowly you started to grow used to them. Laughed at how Gaz made Ghost pay up every time he hit his property, how Soap would take at least a minute to calculate his money for a deal, how Soap always got the short end of the straw, how they’d always fuck him over.

After a round they played again, but this time you were the banker. Handing out loans and taxes while you sipped on your juice box.

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tojiscumdumpster · 4 months

Text

CHAPTER TWO - READER

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀✧ summary page

Last night felt… good. Well, with the exceptions of that loser creep that keeps bothering me, it was good. Refreshing, to be exact. Thanks to a certain someone, I won’t have to worry about that perv anymore. And now, my mind will be onto other things when I go to the bar.

Toji Fushiguro.

I almost didn’t go out since it was Sunday. Usually, I keep that day reserved to relax and prepare lessons for my students. However, I decided to take a break. I’m thirty years old, and although I love my career, I dedicate a little bit too much time to it. For once, I wanted to live a little.

And I haven’t felt that rush through my veins in a while until those two hours I spent with Toji.

There’s something about his demeanor that immediately made me attracted to him. His presence screams confidence in a humble yet arrogant way. How he talks with charm unintentionally is calming.

I just admire how our conversation flowed well. Never a moment of silence. I listened to him, and he listened to me. The touch of vulnerability he showed me was unexpected, but it showed his comfort.

It didn’t feel like that was our first conversation either. It sounds silly, and I can’t put my finger on it, however, Toji feels… familiar.

The chemistry. The flow of us talking… Why didn’t he feel like a stranger?

And when he kissed me? I never thought I had that much strength.

I wanted Toji to fuck me so badly, and I know he would take care of me good. Those calloused hands that gripped my ass while kissing me, made me wet beyond measure.

Fuck it being a school night, or even if we didn’t leave so late, I would’ve been jumping on his cock last night. Maybe I should’ve allowed him to have his way with me in the bathroom at the bar.

It didn’t take long to realize we were sexually attracted to each other. It’s just the kiss solidified it.

Toji gives me rough yet passionate lover vibes. He would pull me by my coils, fuck me from behind and call me his good girl…

Y/N, why are you so damn responsible?

I honestly don’t know. The unhinged thing to do would be to let Toji come over to have sex. But I’m still trying to open up my shell a bit, especially after my recent engagement.

Well, ex-engagement.

Part of me feeling alive again was to do something that would help get my mind off my ex-fiancé that’s currently in front of me presenting a budget plan to me and the rest of the teachers.

“So, for this academic year, we’re looking to…” I fade out the voice of Nanami Kento.

Actually, Principal Nanami.

My relationship with my ex-fiancé, who’s also my boss, is… complicated, to say the least. We didn’t end on bad terms, but we didn’t end on good terms either.

We were together for five years, engaged for a year until I broke things off four months ago. Our arguing increased, which is normal in a relationship. However, it’s what we were going back and forth about that I was getting tired of.

Nanami (because I refuse to call him something as familiar as Ken) makes me look like an idler compared to his workaholic personality. And it wasn’t always like that.

Our relationship was perfect in the beginning. Fairy tale like. We would go on vacation, dates, road trips, and so much more. But as years passed, I truly believe he got comfortable.

It’s like he was burnt out from all the fun we had, and I blame that because of work.

I’m a teacher. He’s a principal. I have my fair share of demands being a teacher, but I know Nanami being a principal is far worse. Having to look over students, teachers, other staff members, constantly attend conventions on the behalf of the school—it took up a lot of his time.

A lot of his personal time.

It meddled into our relationship. I was tired of doing things alone. Tired of not feeling loved and appreciated. Tired of fucking not getting any sexual pleasure from him.

And don’t get me wrong, sex with Nanami was amazing. It’s just we only had it once every blue moon. There’s certain things a vibrator can’t do that he’s an expert at.

So a few days before our fourth anniversary (I know that’s shitty), I decided to break up with him. Let’s just say Nanami wasn’t having it.

Again, we argued. Some tears were shed, but the night ended with a proposal and a promise to change.

Too bad that promise was made with emptiness. We lasted about two months before he went right back to his workaholic ways. I was over it at that point.

Now here we are, months later where I try to avoid him as much as possible like he’s a plague.

It’s kind of hard to do that when these meetings are held at the beginning and end of every month.

“Any questions before we conclude the meeting?” he asks.

Nanami looks around for a response, eyes stopping at me. He tries to give me a small smile, but I look away.

He continues, “Okay. That’ll be all. Don’t hesitate to follow up with me if you all have any questions, concerns, or suggestions. I’ll be sure to take them down to pass along to the superintendents.”

After Nanami dismisses us, I quickly gather my belongings to head to my classroom, but he stops me the minute I’m at the tip of the door.

“Miss L /N. May I have a few minutes of your time?”

“I have to prepare for homeroom, Principal Nanami. Can this wait until later?” Later, meaning never.

“It won't be long… I promise,” he says, earnestly.

Like I don’t know the result of his promises.

I deeply sigh to myself and return to the meeting room. Nanami passes me to close the door and the smell of his cologne invades my senses.

Clean, minty with a touch of lemon and vanilla.

That’s the cologne you brought him .

Great.

“Everything’s okay, Principal Nanami?”

“Y/N…” Every time he says my name it’s filled with such tenderness. Like that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“You said you wanted some of my time. Is everything okay, Principal Nanami?” I repeat.

Nanami leans against the desk, hands in his pockets while looking at me. I take notice of the three piece suit he’s wearing and think how handsome he looks. It fills out his body perfectly.

“You haven’t been answering my calls.”

“Because you call me outside of work hours,” I argue.

He hums. “So if I call during work hours, you’d answer?”

“Ken, what do you want?”

“Can I take you out for dinner this weekend?”

I knit my brows. “Why?”

“To talk, Y/N… To see how you’re doing.”

Why are my cheeks suddenly getting warm?

I would be lying if I said I didn’t still have feelings for Nanami. They aren’t as strong as before, but something is still there. At one point in my life, I was madly in love with him. Despite us not working out, I genuinely wish him nothing but the best.

And maybe we can get to being friends again.

I just don’t know if now’s the time.

“I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“Can you at least think about it?” His voice is still soft. “Please?”

Before I can answer, the late bell rings.

“I have to go.” I’m already halfway through the door.

“Would you let me know?”

I look at him over my shoulder. “I… I’ll let you know.”

Class on Mondays is always the hardest for me. The day feels sluggish, and it moves like a snail. Again, yes, I love teaching, but I seriously cannot hang. Midnight was far too long for me to be out.

Actually, I have no reason to come since I had the company of a handsome fella.

How am I able to teach class while thinking about Toji? I don’t know, but I manage. My mind is split between today's lesson and the distinctive features of him.

Those rich emerald eyes. His dark locks. Pale yet a pretty shade of rose for his lips that’s accompanied by a scar that left me with questions.

Toji wore a baggy black outfit that had me guessing how his physique looked, however, from the looks of his hands and how they felt on my ass—I know it’s probably mouthwatering.

I’m honestly disappointed that I didn’t give him my number. I’m not a hundred percent ready for a new relationship, but also not opposed to one because I was checked out of my last for a while. But I do want to see Toji.

What’s the likelihood of me running into him at the bar again? Slim to none.

I guess we’ll see.

Anyways.

One of my students was reading a page of this week's book, a young adult psychological thriller, when the classroom door opened.

A boy stands there. Spiky hair, about five-foot-nine and green eyes. He looks at me, then around at the classroom before walking toward my desk.

“Hello,” I say with a smile. “Did you need help?”

He nods. “I’m a new student. Sorry for being late.”

“No, it’s okay. I didn’t realize I would be getting a new student today” I told him. “It must’ve slipped my mind.”

He stays silent.

“What’s your name? Do you feel comfortable introducing yourself to the class? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“Megumi.”

No… this could be mere coincidence. I’m sure Megumi is a popular Japanese name.

“Nice to meet you, Megumi. I’m Miss L /N. Glad to have you here.” I’m left with no reaction. No expression. Just a blank face. “So, we’re reading right now. I only had a set amount of books. For now, you can share with one of the students, then I’ll be sure to get you a copy. Sounds good?”

“Okay.”

“Why don’t you go sit next to Yuji? He’s sitting in the back with pink hair and a red hoodie,” I said. “Yuji, raise your hand for me.”

“Megumi, here-” I called him to retrieve his schedule that he left on my desk. But before I give it to him, his full name catches my attention.

Fushiguro, Megumi.

This is no longer a mere coincidence, and now that I’m looking at Megumi, he resembles Toji— a lot. The features are uncanny. I can almost guarantee that’s how Toji looked when he was Megumi’s age.

Who knew the new student in my class would be the son of the man I’ve been thinking all morning?

Will I use this to my advantage? Most definitely.

It’s that time of year for me to schedule parent-teacher conferences, anyways.

“Miss L /N. Did you call me?”

“Ah, yes. Here. You left your schedule.”

Megumi takes the paper from me and returns to the direction where I told him to sit. Yuji tries to whisper, but his whispering is on the verge of an outside voice. I can hear the excitement in his voice when he finally has a student that’s open to sitting next to him.

Yuji is a sweet kid, but I know he had a rough time growing up based on the little information he shared with me. It’s just him and his older brother.

Teenagers are definitely more judgmental than elementary schoolers, so I notice students avoid him as much as possible yet he still gives them the kindest smile. Megumi seems quiet so I think him sitting next to Yuji will help out a bit.

“Yuji, you want to read the next page?”

He stands up eagerly. “Yes, Miss L /N!” Giggles and whispers around the classroom, causing me to shoot a glare.

“Okay, sweetheart. And remember if you come across a word you don’t know, take your time or ask for my help.” He nods and begins reading.

I pay attention for the most part, but I can’t help but think about another chance at seeing Toji Fushiguro.

It thrills me, even.

I hope he feels the same. I would like to think he does.

PREVIOUS CHAPTER | NEXT CHAPTER

#anime x black!reader #anime x reader #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji x black reader #toji fushiguro x black reader #jjk x reader #jjk x black reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x black reader #toji angst #jjk angst

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unlikelyfanhairdoalmond · 1 month

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Oh my, so interesting what he explains about him and Téa. 🥹 So happy for them, and for him to have found someone like this. ❤️

[VIDEO BELOW - New interview with Kara]

Kara : How are things with your accomplice?? How is your accomplice?

Tim : She’s a miracle. I never thought that I would experience something like that at my age. And I had sort of come to terms with like maybe being alone or maybe being some kind of casual thing that wasn’t really too demanding and then we met and it all changed! It is the deepest, most fun, most truly intimate relationship I’ve ever had.

Kara : so why do you think that is? What’s different? What makes it like that?

Tim : […] We want someone to see us. And if we get into a place where we allow someone to really see us, everything, and they can look at that and say ‘Ok, ‘I’m okay with this. All this good stuff and all that bad stuff’ then it’s like a profound relief to be able to be your entire self and know that someone is not gonna blame you or try to change you in a way that’s punishing or belittle you for the things that you have that are human flaws; but you know, try to help you and try to encourage you to improve without trying to fix you. So, all that stuff.

Kara : So, there’s something about her that helped you trust that she would do that, be like that with you? Or were you at a time in your life where you were ready to expose yourself in that way?

Tim : All of the above. And, talking about fear, I was terrified because basically she said to me ‘Give it all, give me everything. Tell me the whole story, all the shit, all the stuff you’ve done you’re not proud of, you’re ashamed of, just tell me and I’ll deal with it’. And I was like ‘okay…’ thinking that perhaps I would get annihilated, you know, that I would step on the landmine the was in the mine field or the eggshells that was out there. I took that risk and I laid it all out and she was like ‘okay. Let’s do this’. Wow, you know and… [getting emotional]. It was and has been an amazing thing and feels not punishing at all. And… some of my relationships I’ve felt punished.

Kara : Right, which would make you think that future relationship would as well, because it was your history, it’s what you knew.

[…]

Kara : You and Téa met when you were on ‘Madam Secretary’. I don’t know if you met before that but that’s when you started becoming intimate. That ended like years ago now. How many years has it been?

Tim : Four years, five years, something like that.

Kara : So, it’s interesting that you are great with that situation, and your environment now is totally different; you’re not working together. And has it changed at all? Was it more something then or more something now?

Tim : That’s better. That’s better now. Yeah, you know, it’s funny because I’m pretty sure there were a lot of eyes rolling on set and lots of nervous people going like ‘Oh God, when that blows up it’s gonna be a disaster. Oh, on set romance…’ And we were a little bit before #MeToo so we could have our romance without being so careful about it, and all this stuff, and there was, I’m not sure if it’s actually called this, it’s called a ‘Love contract’ that you were supposed to fill out for CBS saying ‘We are in a relationship, we work together so if things go badly, we’re not gonna bring it to work’ but we never did.

Kara : Oh, you never signed it?

Tim: No, we never signed it and we never brought our shit to work.

Kara : Very good. There’s something going on that you’ve decided, you’ve approached the whole thing in a healthy way it seems like, to me […].

Tim : It’s pretty spectacular.

Kara : I also love the fact that she said ‘Give me all of it?’. Like she literally said that?

Tim : Yeah. It’s funny also, and so surprising for me. I showed up for work one day at Madam Secretary and I opened the door to my dressing room and there were like 25 pairs of high heel shoes and all this lingerie and I was like ‘What’s happening here?’ And Téa is like ‘Why do we have separate dressing rooms? I’ll just be in here.’ And first I was like ‘Wait, my space, etc.’ and I was like ‘No, she wants to be with me so badly that she’s moved her high heels into my room, so I better take this, this is a good thing.’ And her dressing room turned into a place where we would take naps. At lunchtime, we looked like cadavers. We would lie next to each other and just pass out for about 18 to 20 minutes, we got so good at it, and then we could continue on with our day.

youtube

#timdaly #tim daly #madam secretary #timmydaly #téa x tim #téaleoni #interview #téa leoni #Youtube #téa and tim #timéa

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syrikif · 6 months

Text

Gamer Etiquette

Kodzuken x Streamer!Y/N

Pairing: Kenma Kozume x Fem!Reader

Genre: SMAU, Written Elements, Strangers to Lovers, Romance, Fluff, Humor, Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, Streamer/Youtuber AU

Upcoming content creator/streamer, Y/N, has gone viral for lots of things. Her infamous dumb moments, her blended cookie recipe (which tastes better than it sounds), the way she rages at her friends during games, and about a hundred more.

But her most recent viral moment? Accidentally knocking famous streamer, Kodzuken, off the Bedwars map and making him lose his two year winning streak.

Now with more attention (and hate) than she ever asked for, her only option left is to go to the source: the man himself, Kenma Kozume.

Previous | Masterlist | Next

Chapter 2 (b): Boredom

Word Count: 2187

It’s been an hour since Kenma started streaming, and he’ll admit that he’s starting to get a bit bored. He usually enjoys playing Bedwars on stream but he’s been doing it so often lately that it’s beginning to get repetitive.

“What the hell is this guy doing,” he asks as he notices someone start building a tower of blocks on the emerald island. Kenma sprints over to the player, jumping up to knock him off the tower.

“Hype_boy2000 was killed by Kodzuken!”

“People that play minecraft are brainless sometimes I swear to god,” he hears Kuroo mutter in his headset.

Despite living together, his best friend usually only joins the stream via voice call, so he can interact with Kenma’s viewers and still be comfortable in his own room. Kenma honestly actually prefers this, it’s easier to hear him and he doesn’t have to worry about his roommate doing anything dumb in front of the camera.

He shakes his head, “You play minecraft.”

“Exactly!”

Kenma snorts, taking a quick glance at his chat to see how his audience is feeling.

Kodzuken is a GOD

People who play mc are losers🙄🙄🙄 (I play mc)

I’m not bad at the game but watching Kenma makes me feel like I am 💀

He looks bored 😕

His eyebrows furrow then because he’s almost completely positive that he’s hiding his feelings well enough for no one to notice. Apparently he’s not.

He feels something tug at his neck and briefly looks down to see what it is, resisting a smile at the sight of one of the younger cats, Mars, playing with the drawstring of his hoodie. “Do we wanna try playing something else after this?”

“Why? You gettin’ bored of winning all the time,” his roommate teases and Kenma has to force himself not to react to his words because he might just be joking but he’s hit the nail right on the head.

Kenma pretends he doesn’t hear him as he kills the last player (winning himself yet another game),“I’ll go one more round and then we can figure out something else to play.”

OMG do you guys see the paw????

SHOW US THE CATS

We wanna see the cats

“I think the only reason you’re famous is because we have a million cats,” Kuroo announces and Kenma can almost see the accompanying eye roll.

“I’m fine with that,” he shrugs. “But I guess I can show you guys the cats before we start.”

He changes his scene in OBS so that it’s only showing his camera, making sure he’s in full view before he scoops up the bengal cat still sitting in his lap. “This is Mars, we got him like a month ago. How old is he? Um like five months I think?”

He sets him back down on his desk, “There’s only like four cats in here right now by the way.”

ONLY FOUR???

How many cats does he have lol

“I think there’s like fifteen in the house right now,” Kenma’s head unconsciously tilts as he silently counts all their cats. “No- wait. Seventeen now, plus however many Minnie will have when she gives birth.”

“Yeah but don’t worry we have three different rooms in the house for them, plus the loft and then the house itself is three stories.” Kuroo chimes in, defending Kenma’s apparent obsession despite the fact that he supposedly doesn’t care. “And then we have like ten cat towers and eight litter robots.”

EIGHT?????

Oh so they’re rich rich

Half of those litter boxes would pay all my bills 💀

“Anyways um-,” Kenma pauses to reach for the orange cat currently laying in the cat bed beside his desk. “This is Enji, she’s been with us for three years now and she’s five years old.” Enji meows in disapproval as Kenma picks her up and tries to show her to the camera. She fights against him, her claws digging into his forearms and making him grimace. “She doesn’t like being picked up.”

As if on cue Enji jumps out of his arms and lays right back down in the bed, eyeing Kenma like he’s just committed some sort of grave sin.

“Well now that she hates me,” he shoots the camera a look, “Let’s go grab another one.”

He stands from his chair, taking a cursory glance throughout the room to spot any other animals lingering. “Oh-,” he notices a ball of fluff hiding in the cat tower sitting in the corner of his streaming room.

Miomi is much more willing to be picked up, her purrs echoing throughout the room as he cradles her in his arms and walks back to his desk. “This is Miomi, she’s a ragdoll obviously.”

“She’s my favorite,” Kuroo suddenly chimes in. “Literally so cuddly I love it.”

“She is very sweet,” Kenma agrees as he strokes the cat’s stomach. She blinks up at him slowly, her purrs lessening as she drifts back to sleep. “We’ve had her the longest, ever since we moved in.”

Kenma gently moves to set her back into the cat tower, to which she stretches only once before immediately falling right back asleep. He then looks up towards the cat shelves he’d put on his walls a few years ago, snorting when he spots exactly who he was expecting to find up there.

“Come here little buddy,” he coaxes the animal into his hands who meows in protest as his little paws reach out to cling onto his shoulders. And Kenma is just barely able to move into the camera frame before he starts practically screaming. “This is void,” he pauses to lightly pat his head, knowing that usually helps to calm him down. “Any guesses as to why we named him that?” The question is entirely rhetorical.

“Dude he’s like blending into your fucking sweatshirt,” Kuroo suddenly laughs.

Kenma leans forward to look at the viewfinder of his camera, “Holy shit he is.”

Void starts meowing again at the change in position and Kenma can feel himself flinch from how loud it is. “Hey hey hey, it’s okay. You’re okay,” he swiftly places him back on the shelf.

“That’s all the cats in here,” Kenma tells his viewers as he sits back down. “I might do a full video introducing everyone but it would just take a while to film because a few of them like going outside a lot.”

“Yeah I haven’t seen Binx inside in like two months,” his roommate further adds.

“I see him in the backyard a lot but he’s usually sitting up on the fence,” Kenma notes as he reopens the game on his stream.

Kenma goes outside???

He went out to touch grass

Binx is such a funny name lol

He ignores their jests, running in game to play his final round of bedwars for the night. “How about a three v. three?”

“Oh yeah you haven’t played in teams in a while have you?”

“A couple months I think,” he responds as he selects the game. “What do we wanna play after this?” The streamer directs his gaze to the chat while he waits for his character to load into the game.

“I was thinking something like Spiderman, or we could play Stardew with Kuro,” he adds just as he’s spawned into the map.

“Um, hello?” His roommate’s voice is loud with disbelief.

“Hi.” Kenma takes a moment to collect as much iron and gold he needs before sprinting to get a stone sword and some wool.

“Do I get a say in this at all?”

Kenma feels his eyebrows furrow, “You realize that you’re here solely for the viewers entertainment right?”

He begins speed-bridging across to the emerald island as he hears his best friend scoff. “Fuck you.”

“No thank you,” Kenma hums as he finishes off the bridge and jumps into one of the emerald spawners.

“Sometimes I wonder why we’re friends,” while the words themselves are mean, both men know that Kuroo is entirely joking as he says it.

Kenma subconsciously nods, “All the time.”

He spots another player from a distance and moves to crouch behind a pile of blocks next to the spawner. “I think my strat is to just kinda run and kill everyone and let my teammates worry about the bed,” he explains.

The player passes by then and Kenma manages to take him out within a few simple hits, as he usually does. He looks over at the chat, expecting the same praise he always receives after getting a kill but is entirely thrown off by seeing a completely random topic of conversation instead.

AHHHHH IT’S Y/N

Most unexpected duo ever💀

I was literally watching her stream twenty minutes ago

Wtf is happening lol

“Y/N?” Kenma is more than confused at this point, completely lost as to who or what his chat is obsessing over.

“What’s that? Is that like the name of the map or something?”

Kenma’s in slight shock for a moment at his question because there’s no way he lives with someone as stupid as Kuroo. “You’re literally an idiot. Look at chat, dumbass.”

He decides to start making his way back to his team’s island, building a bridge to the diamonds to collect any that spawned on his way. “Oh she’s a streamer too apparently.”

“Oh really?” He turns his character to look in the general direction of their island just out of simple curiosity, only to see something totally unexpected.

He watches as one of his teammate’s suddenly jumps out from behind a giant pyramid of blocks, running towards an encroaching enemy player and knocking him into the void before they’re even able to make it onto the island.

But that’s not what makes Kenma stop and stare. It’s when the player starts jumping around, punching the air and spinning in circles as they seemingly celebrate the kill, that Kenma pauses. “What the fuck are they doing,” he hears himself mutter as he finally remembers to finish bridging to their island.

GIVE HER THE STUFF

She needs supplies to cover the beeeeedddd

Y/N kinda sweaty ngl

He blinks, “That’s Y/N?”

He runs over to her, abiding to his chat and throwing the stuff he collected on the ground in front of her (it’s not like he’s going to need any of it anyways). But she just stares at him, and he realizes that she must be dumber than he initially thought because she definitely doesn’t know what he’s doing.

He tries his best to non-verbally tell her to pick it up - which takes longer than Kenma would like - but she finally understands and runs forward to grab the items. “Holy shit,” he mutters to himself as he turns and sprints back the way he came.

He decides to start getting the beds of the enemy teams and he’s in the middle of killing the last player on the purple team when he sees a highlighted message pop up in his game chat.

“Thanks :)”

He knocks the player off, hearing the tell-tale sound of their death as he opens game chat to look back at the message. “Shouldn’t she be paying attention to the game?” He says it like he’s annoyed, and he’s sure that it comes off that way to his viewers judging by their reactions to his words.

But he’s almost certain that Kuroo is able to tell that he’s not (he’s the opposite really) when he teasingly says, “Aw, she said thank you Kenma.”

“Shut up.”

And despite always being notoriously calm on stream, Kenma’s face suddenly feels warm.

~~~

“You guys saw that right?” Kenma is in disbelief as he spectates Y/N, who’s currently just standing and not doing anything to stop the enemy player running towards her. “What the fuck is she doing now? Is her game frozen?”

Y/N doesn’t react at all as she’s being attacked and Kenma can feel his jaw literally drop when she’s abruptly killed.

“Red Team has been eliminated!"

He sits back in his chair, his eyes wide and mouth still agape as he tries to process what just happened.

He didn’t really care when she knocked him off the bridge, was even slightly impressed that she was willing to take down her own teammate to survive. But that all changed when she didn’t even try to fight back against the other player.

“We just lost,” he whispers, mostly to himself, and the sentence feels foreign on his tongue.

He can hear his roommate saying something over the headset but he can’t quite understand what it is, nor does he currently care enough to try to figure it out.

“We lost,” he repeats, louder this time and it’s insane because he feels like laughing.

He can feel himself grinning as his character loads back into the lobby, “I can’t believe we actually just lost.”

And he feels almost giddy as he watches his win streak fall all the way back down to zero; because, for the first time in two years, something is different.

And never has he ever been so happy to lose.

Taglist: @crazy-people-are-here, @existential-traveller, @peachesncats, @royalz658

Any names in bold are unable to be tagged.

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avalentina · 3 months

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My newest fic, this one will most likely end up being published as a series. For now it is in my Harry Styles page on my Masterlist. I'm not sure how long it will be, and I'm still working on the story itself so it might be a bit before I post more, but the poll showed that about 2/3 of you wanted it now. So without further ado ...

Word count: 4,074

Warnings: bits of anxiety, depression, feeling overwhelmed; Robin Twist's death, grief; unnamed douchebags who want you for your money and title

Noble!Harry (Peerage!Harry) x Princess!Y/N

Note: This story features certain words in multiple languages mainly traditional Chinese, but I have put the English word or phrase in parentheses directly after the translated word or phrase.

Ex: Mǔqīn (Mother)

The Princess's Lover

Zero: Enchanted Love

(any and all pictures are not mine, all I do is collage them, pictures of Harry are a reference for his appearance during the specific moment, all other pictures are only for the purpose of an outfit/hairstyle/accessory, Y/N can look however you would like her to)

I remember the day as though it was just yesterday. Hard to believe it was closer to five years ago now.

(FLASHBACK)

I was at yet another ball, sometimes it feels like my parents, the King and Queen of MiraZhou, host one every week. I'm 19 year old Princess Y/N, the only girl to graduate from my private high school without ever being kissed. I've had a few offers for courtship, none of which I've accepted, all of them just a family's desperate attempt to increase their wealth, status, and favor in the eyes of my parents. I'm being the perfect princess, as I usually tend to be. I've never found anything I wanted to rebel for, I mean I’ve always wondered what it would be like to have more choice in my life, but I guess you could say I'm terrified to actually find out what that would really entail.

This ball tonight was a masquerade, not that it actually made a difference in my case, seeing as I’m stuck wearing a tiara. The one I'm wearing may be my second favorite tiara, and my favorite formal tiara, but it does a wonderful job at making it known exactly who I am. For that reason, I've actually been trying to avoid talking to anyone at tonight’s ball.

It’s not until I’m summoned to my parents’ side for the formal ‘thank you for hosting’ part of the night that my care for this particular event heightens. My family knows everyone in our court based on their voices alone. As a family of four gets to the front of the line. I recognize the voices as Duke Desmond, Duchess Anne, and Lady Gemma of Duchy Holmeshire, but it’s their son that I can’t say I’m familiar with. As they make their approach, I catch eyes with him, the soft green of them is mesmerizing, I feel as though I could get lost in them and just be happy.

“And I see Lord Harry has returned from University, Cambridge in England correct?” My father asks Lord Harry directly.

“Yes, your majesty, uh sir.” Lord Harry replies, fumbling his words slightly probably to do with being away for so long, but he has an english accent that he must’ve developed during his time abroad, and it definitely suits him well.

“It’s good to have you back in MiraZhou Lord Harry.” My mother says, offering him a gracious smile. “I don’t believe you’ve formally met Princess Y/N?” she adds.

“I have not, It’s a pleasure to formally meet you, your highness.” Harry says to me as we make eye contact again and he does another short bow.

I can’t help the wide smile that appears on my face as I return the introduction. “Likewise Lord Harry,” I say and offer him my hand to kiss. A gesture I don’t give out lightly, and you can tell that by the tiny gasp that slips out of my mother’s mouth before she stifles it, and the way Duchess Anne’s smile grows a tad bit wider.

As the Styles family of Holmeshire takes their leave so the next group of nobles can greet us, Harry and I caught eyes one more time and I mouthed silently ‘bye’ with yet another wide smile.

After the “thank you’s” were over, my mother and father turned to each other. I heard my mother tell my father, “I’ll invite them to the palace for dinner one day next week.” I smiled to myself and excused myself for a brief restroom break, that I spent staring at where Harry had kissed my hand, remembering the softness of his lips, and how I really hope he didn’t have any other potential matches. Harry and I didn’t get another chance to talk that night, but we always seemed to be catching each other’s eyes, even from across the large ballroom.

“Y/N, darling, the Duke and Duchess of Holmeshire will be joining us for dinner tomorrow night.” My mother said at breakfast that following Tuesday morning. My attention perked up at that.

“Are Lady Gemma and Lord Harry joining them?” I asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

“Not this time, but they both will be joining their parents here for dinner on Thursday night.” She said with a smile that I returned. “I don’t want you to get your hopes up about a courtship dear. Tomorrow night will allow your father and I to find out about Lord Harry’s current status, and any potential matches he may already have.”

“I know Mǔqīn (Mother), thank you, and I apologize for my obvious reaction, I’ll work on those some more.” I say, apologizing.

“Xiǎo jiāhuo (little one), we're happy you're actually excited about a possible courtship. I saw the way you lit up that night, it reminded me of how happy the first few conversations I had with your mother made me. Which is why you, Lizabeth, and Helena will be having dinner in the slumber party suite you used to enjoy. That way we can shield you from whatever potential hurt there may possibly be.” Father adds to mother's comment.

“And darling, your expressions are wonderful, a princess should not be void of emotion, nor always show indifference, your emotion shows your honesty in that feeling and that is what makes you an amazing princess. Your manners and etiquette are exactly where they should be. True feeling is just as important as manners and etiquette. Now run along, you have classes to get to.” Mother finishes out our conversation. I love attending University, it's the only time I'm allowed to wear jogger pants and hoodies in public. With no makeup or tiara or heeled shoes. I am intentionally supposed to look unimportant, because it does help me blend in a little bit more and instead of eight guards I only have three, all dressed down to appear as students as well.

My midnight violet Lamborghini centenario topless with ‘gongzhu (princess)’ as the license plate is the closest resemblance to royalty I get. After my classes for the day are done, Creyton, who is my lead guard, and I head to my favorite nearby pizza truck for a slice each before we return to the palace. Our usual nearby chess table is taken today and when I look again, it's none other than Lord Harry and a friend of his playing while enjoying a slice as well.

I elect to take the table next to them which happens to be open. As Creyton and I begin our setup and start talking, Harry turns to me, having probably recognized my voice.

“Your highness, what brings you out into the city today?” He asks quietly, careful to avoid drawing attention to me. He turns to Creyton and offers a handshake.

“I attend university in the city, so classes, but my lead guard, Creyton here, and I usually stop for a slice or two and a few plays on a chessboard before heading back.” I say with a small smile.

“We really should be going Y/N.” Creyton comments, now that I've been ‘recognized’ we have to head straight back or risk breaking protocol, and I like having Creyton around too much to let him get fired for something as simple as a protocol violation.

“I'll see you at dinner on Thursday night H.” I say to him, not wanting to compromise his lunch either. With that I head back to my car. Creyton follows me closely and we met up with the other two members of my security team. They share a very brief ten to fifteen second report before we get into the cars and head back to the palace.

“Princess, you know you're not supposed to talk to anyone besides me during that time, and you're definitely not allowed to advertise my name and who I am.” Creyton says to me during the quiet drive back to the palace.

“I know, I'm sorry Creyton, I wasn't expecting Lord Harry to be there, let alone at our usual table. It won't happen again, and I fully understand any repercussions that arise.

Lizabeth and Helena were not the best of distraction that night. Especially considering all they talked about was Lord Harry's return from England, and how attractive he is.

“Ladies, please, his parents are downstairs having dinner with my parents.” I say aloud and both girls turn to me.

“He's here? Lord Harry is here? Y/N please you have to introduce us.” Lizabeth practically begs.

“He, is not here, just his parents, and I will consider introducing you after they find out if he's available for a match. And if he is, I've pretty much already got dibs, I hope. Did you two miss the candids of him kissing my hand and the wide, stupid smile on my face.”

“Oh my God, Y/N has a crush! It's about time.” Lizabeth squeals.

“And on that note, we promise to back off, but if he has any extremely attractive friends please promise to introduce us.” Helena states and I smile.

“I know he has at least one semi-attractive friend. But he definitely wasn't from here. His accent sounded way too Irish.” I said and they both just looked at me. “I’ll look into it, I promise, just not right now.” They both grumbled a bit, but agreed.

It was late Thursday morning when my mother and father both entered the study I use for my schoolwork. I have three different 20 page essays due next week so I decided to have one of the kitchen staff bring breakfast to my study. I just finished finalizing and submitting one, and was polishing the second when they knocked. I closed my laptop so I wouldn’t be distracted by my essay while they told me whatever it is they have to say.

“Look at you, working hard on your economics degree.” Father said, smiling proudly.

“But that’s not why we’re here Damien.” Mother interrupts before he can continue on that line of topic further. “We’re here because we thought you might want to know more about Lord Harry Styles before dinner tonight.” She continued.

“He is not currently courting anyone, and Duchess Anne mentioned that he asked her to help him get up to speed on where you’re at and what has been keeping you occupied lately.” Father said and I legit squealed. It felt like hundreds of thousands of butterflies were dancing in my stomach. “We figured that would be your reaction and wanted to make sure you had ample time to put your finest princess foot forward for dinner tonight. We’ve arranged a walk through the rose garden for the two of you before dinner starts. Lord Harry will be here at four, and dinner is at six.” He finished saying.

“So in girl terms, you might want to start getting ready now.” Mother added with a smile and I quickly excused myself and hugged them both before taking off towards my rooms at nearly a full sprint.

“Mel, Marie, Helga!” I hollered into the staff door from my entry room. Mel and Marie are my new ladies maids and Helga is assisting them in learning everything before she officially retires next month. The girls tie half of my hair up into a braid and a bun, and then curl the remaining pieces, I have a simple gold and diamond tiara, gold gladiator flats, and a one shoulder golden gown. I ended up on the gold because i knew it would reflect in the sun during our walk, and it’s also a color I’ve always loved wearing. Plus it’s proven to be a confidence booster, and I have a feeling i’m going to be in need of a lot of that tonight. Other than my title, I have no idea what I have going for me in regards to why I’d make a good match. Though I’d rather he like Y/N, rather than just Princess Y/N. I needed to be radiant tonight, for myself, although, who wouldn’t want to look golden?

At exactly 3:56 pm I make my way towards the main palace entrance, it’s a solid five minute walk from my rooms, and it usually takes guests anywhere between fifty and seventy-five seconds to go from the drive, up the stairs, and finally step inside the doors. Which means that if I timed this correctly he should be just stepping inside the doors as I step off the last step to get to the entry foyer.

I maintain my normal pace and arrive to the front entry in exactly five minutes. However when I get there, Harry is already waiting for me in a mostly black suit, a bit of gold on the shirt, and a black suede hat.

“My apologies Lord Harry, it took a bit longer to get ready than I had anticipated.” I said to him as soon as I had made my approach.

“Well, it was well worth the minute long wait, you look radiant your highness.” He says back with a bow. “Shall we?” He suggests and holds his arm out for me to take.

“You’ll have 12 feet of privacy.” My mother informs us as I take his arm and we depart. I wave a small goodbye to my mother and father before turning all of my focus onto my walk with Harry.

“You’re going to have to guide me, I’m afraid I have absolutely no idea where we’re supposed to be going.” He says with a small chuckle.

“I suppose, though getting lost does sometimes lead to finding something unique, fascinating, and totally unexpected. A left at the spiral hedge just up ahead.” I say.

“That’s true, it’s an adventure, that much is for sure.” He replies with a smile.

We walk in silence for a minute or so as we enter the rose garden. He pauses just before the first fountain.

“Why me?” He asks a few seconds after we stopped. He’s staring into my eyes and I can’t help but stare back. “My mum told me that you have a habit of turning down courtships, and being very selective about who you let kiss your hand, so why let me? I mean you could have your choice of princes from distant lands, lords with so much more wealth, and fame than myself, the male heirs of duchies that make mine look infintesimal.”

“I hope this isn’t awkward of me to say but to be honest, the first time we caught each other’s eyes, I felt like I could be lost in the soft green of them for eons and be happy for each second of that time. That’s not a feeling i’ve ever had before.” I say, he smiles and the way it lights up his entire being is pure magic. I can’t help but smile too. “It’s actually why I wore gold today, I knew I would struggle to say what I wanted to…”

“And you needed the confidence boost?” He finished my exact thought. I nodded and he smiled again. “Me too, I knew I would need it to even manage to say a word to you.” He continued as we started walking again. “I can't help but feel leagues below you.”

The conversation flowed so easily from there, it was one of the easiest conversations I've ever had. We talked about university, our degrees, our families, our childhoods, my dogs, our favorite books, movies, shows, anything and everything. As we approached the entrance again he paused one more time.

“I’d like to have another outing with you soon, and I also want to aopolgize for making you violate protocol in the park the other day.” He says to me, and I have never met someone who means everything so genuinely, who is so kind hearted, and it just feels almost right to be around him.

“I’d like that as well, and as far as the other day is concerned, that is my fault, I know not to engage with the public while undercover like that, I couldn’t stop myself though, because it was you and I wanted to have a conversation with you.” I say back, desperately hoping it’s not too much.

“May I?” he asks and begins to reach for my hand. I gladly let him take it and press his soft lips to it once again. I feel the blush rising in my cheeks, and I smile as he offers me his arm once again. We make our return in silence, just sharing smiles with each other.

Harry and I had about two outings each week for the next couple of months, but he still hadn’t asked for permission to court me. It was beginning to stress me out to the point where my parents took us down to one outing every other week. We would text in between, but I was still terrified that he would never ask me, that he didn’t see in me what I saw in him. The every other week outings turned into two outings over a three month period, the texts had stopped, and I was afraid that I was going to have to accept a courtship out of obligation rather than want. It might sound weird, but after almost seven months of knowing Lord Harry Styles, I was in love with him. I was in love with someone who didn’t even want to court me.

The Styles family joined us for dinner on a Monday night, and I was to tell Harry that a courtship was no longer an option, I was to be courting another Lord within the week. I was at least happy my parents agreed to let me tell him privately with a chaperone just twenty feet away.

When they arrived that night, something felt different between all of them, something had happened to them. I was dressed in a ruby red and gold Qipao with a gold plated ruby and diamond tiara, my hair was pulled back into a woven ponytail style with curls for volume. Harry was in all black except for his shoes which were a camel color, and his long hair was also pulled back. It was the first time I had seen it that way, and it was definitely doing something for me, no matter how much I wished it hadn’t. When he finally removed his sunglasses for dinner, I had initially wondered why he was wearing them in the first place, but I saw firsthand why, when he politely removed them before dinner. His normally bright, soft green eyes were slightly puffy, he had definitely been crying.

Dinner was terribly quiet, no one felt like talking, Harry seemed to be trying to avoid eye contact with me and it felt like everything was seriously ending. I excused myself for a few moments which I used to try and compose myself, what I was about to do was beginning to feel overwhelming and almost painful. As I went to make my return, Harry was already waiting for me in the rose parlor as my family called it. It looked out to the rose garden and the vases were filled with roses of all colors.

“Harry? Did something happen? Your entire family was quiet during dinner, it worries me.” I asked him quietly.

“Yes, I’m not sure how much you actually know, but my parents aren’t actually together. My mum maintained her title when they split just because of how loved she was by the people of Holmeshire, your parents actually had to approve it. I was only seven when they split, and have maintained a relationship with both of them, my mother moreso though. She has had two relationships since, one which none of us speak to anymore, and the other, Robin, he passed from cancer a little over three months ago. It was getting progressively worse and I just knew I needed to be there for my mum, which is why I stopped texting you, and why it was hard to find time to see you. You have to believe me when I say I wanted to see you, Robin was a good man, he made sure I had good values, and taught me that it’s actually ok for a man to cry.” Harry explains to me, I just sit and listen quietly, knowing he just needs to get all of this out. “My mum has been trying to slowly reconnect herself back to my father over the past six weeks and while it is definitely an adjustment for all of us, I want to start doing things for myself again, rather than just doing things for my family, I want to get back to spending more time with you.” He finishes speaking, and the tears I have been trying to force down, overflow.

“Harry, we can’t, my parents are expecting me to start pursuing other potential matches at tomorrow night’s ball. I’m supposed to tell you that,” I cry while trying to explain it all to him. Harry being the gentle and beautiful soul he is, uses his thumbs to wipe away my tears. I take a few deep breaths before continuing, “Harry I’m to tell you that courtship is no longer an option for us, I’m meant to tell you goodbye, and it breaks my heart to say that to you. I… I need to go.” I say and attempt to rush out but Harry stops me with one word, “wait.”

“Y/N it’s not tomorrow yet, let me try one thing.” He says and steps closer to me.

“Harry, we shouldn’t, I can’t, you can’t do anything Harry, our chaperone is right there, just twenty feet away, and my father…”

“Relax, I’m not going to do anything like that, I want to ask for permission to court you in front of everyone, tonight.” He says with a smile.

“I suppose it’s worth a try, I don’t want to say goodbye to you Har.” I say softly.

“Then it’s settled, and we’re doing this now.” He offers me his arm and I take it, hoping it won’t be the last time.

When we get back to the dinner parlor where everyone else is, still sitting in silence. Harry grabs their attention immediately.

“Excuse me your majesties, Princess Y/N has just informed me of everything, and it upsets me greatly, especially because with my family’s recent loss of Robin, I needed to take time to put them first, and put their well being above my own, even though I would have much rather been spending that time with her highness. Which is why since it’s not tomorrow yet, I’d like to ask you for your formal permission to begin a courtship with her highness Princess Y/N.” Harry announces.

“I suppose you are correct Lord Harry, it is not tomorrow yet, and I suppose…” my father begins, turning to look at my mother, who nods at him, before continuing. “I suppose that my wife and I can excuse your recent absence and forgive you for upsetting our daughter.” he wraps up.

“And as long as it’s what the Princess wants…” My mother picks up and looks at me, I nod eagerly, a wide, bright smile returning to my face for the first time in months.

“It is, it’s everything I want.” I say happily.

“Then you have our permission, and our blessing to court Princess Y/N.” My father announces. I’m just so happy that I was wrong about Harry not wanting me, I hug him. He’s surprised at first, but hugs me back almost immediately. It’s the best feeling in the entire world, to be in his strong arms, I'm impossibly happy.

“Okay, that’s long enough.” My mother says as my father wraps an arm around her waist.

“Sorry mother,” I say, breaking apart from Harry. He takes my hand and kisses the back of it though.

The conversation for the night livens up after that. Harry and I are allowed to sit next to each other on one of the couches. We’re holding both of each other’s hands and whispering to each other for the entire rest of the hour. Just before we go our separate ways for the night he whispers the best phrase in the entire world to me.

He simply says, “I love you,” squeezes my hands again, kisses them both, and heads towards the Velychnyy (Majestic) Suite.

Hope you enjoyed!

As a quick reminder as of 1/17/24, I'm still working on this story, I don't want to post any of it until I'm finished writing it (mostly potential format changes) so please be patient with me and let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future The Princess's Lover (TPL) posts by commenting below!

-Ava

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reidslovely · 9 months

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heyy! can you give us more about frat!peter?

totally!! I'm not sure what you wanna know though specifically so here's some word vomit i sent to my moot stella weeks ago. you guys should totally feel free to talk to me about any frat!peter headcanons and questions you have him and reader/bashful are my world rn and I could answer any question you have about him/her/them. but right here is a run down of only frat!pete and how I perceive him

Frat!Peter has the biggest ego but he's totally not a jerk..at least not once you get to know him. He's an engineering and biochem double major but he's taken journalism/photography electives and that’s where he and his gf met. He's automatically flirting with her and it's like dude come on..really?? Cause everyone knows about Peter Parker. He could have any girl he wants but he's never publicly dated anyone?? Weird. Maybe he's too good. Which makes her skeptical, so it’s like leave me alone totally not interested but he very quickly wins her over. The jerk side a total front and she is quick to discredit that rumor and let everyone know what a big soft teddy bear nerd he really is. (however it is not a front when it comes to his girl though stay twenty five feet away from her)

He definitely rushed with his friend as a joke and didn’t actually think he’s get in but turns out he’s a legacy (his dad and uncle ben both were members) and the guys think he’s a great pick and i mean it doesn’t hurt that the girls like him so come on how could they not let this dude in?? He does let it go to his head a little because it’s basically gonna pay for his college. How could he not get a little cocky and slacky. Besides for once in his life people like him and not just because he’ll get them a good grade on a project. However he does start to come down from this and gets his head out of his ass.

Yes he does still have his powers and is managing spider man, college, and his frat responsibilities. Which is why he had to step down from secretary to social chair sophomore/junior year. He totally showed up in the frat in his costume several times and his brothers chose to never mention it, it’s a secret that dies with them. Besides, their best friend is spider man?? How fucking cool.

His girlfriend does find out four months into the relationship when he shows up to their date dressed in the top of the costume and his button up not covering it at all and it finally explains so so sos os SO much.

Like stated previously he was elected secretary his sophomore year (first to happen) and had to step down to social chair later which he enjoyed much better cause their stuff was pretty much laid out in a rule book for them.

YES he does have a little (a freshman you mentor not the other kind of little) in my mind I aged Miles up a little bit to be his little freshie which ends up being super convenient when Miles ends up getting bit and they split spider man and other duties within the frat. But if not Miles I like to think he takes on carbon copy of himself when he first joined: angry, skeptical, and kind of shy and scared to reach out in fear of rejection and he teaches him that all these emotions are okay and valid but there are alot of good people in this community.

Speed run: he played on the lacrosse team very briefly until spider man got him thrown off- he rejoined later after Miles came into the picture, however he and the other guys are known for playing basketball on their front lawn and all the girls like to stop and watch (which drives his gf crazy and she has to make out with him to reclaim what’s hers and he eats that the fuck up.) As social chair he is obligated to work homecoming, and even though it’s not allowed since his gf is not in greek life he def asks her for help/ideas (his brothers know but they like him and his gf to much to care).

And yes he’s shocked that he's on the honor roll because how can he balance all this stuff and still come out? Maybe he is a genius, and slowly burning out.

That's all I got right now, please ask me more lore about frat!peter and or him and bashful/reader thank you that was my press conference

#tasm peter parker x reader #tasm peter #tasm peter imagines #tasm peter blurb #tasm peter x reader #frat!peter

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thelastofharrington · 1 year

Text

the hard with the soft

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A/N: hello! this is my first joel fic that i've ever written! i'm really excited about it and made this whole blog just to post it lol. there is plenty of smut in this so mdni! let me know what you think :)

summary: Falling in love with Joel Miller was something that happened to you little by little, and then all at once. To say the chemistry was immediate would be a complete lie. At first, you couldn’t even tell if he wanted you around, let alone wanted you in his bed. No, when he rescued you that day from one of Bill’s well-laid traps, you were certain he would never see you as anything other than a nuisance. A pest he had to take care of.

Oh how wrong you were.

tags: praise, porn with context, slow burn, mutual pining, joel is soft on the inside, reader is down bad fr, non-canonical, rip bill and frank, takes place a year/two years after the show starts, love in the midst of an apocalypse is beautiful y'all

word count: 7k

i hope you enjoy!!!

Part 1: The Stumble, 1 Year Ago

You were hungry. Starving, even. You had been left behind from your group of outcasts three days ago (or had it been four? You were too exhausted to keep track of the time) when you twisted your ankle and couldn’t keep up the pace. You weren’t overly friendly with your most recent pack of ragtag survivors, mostly seeing them and each other as a mere means of survival rather than company. You hadn’t known friendliness or love from your packs since your parents got bit five years ago. Your parents couldn’t have known that three years after they brought you into the world it would fall apart, nor did they know they would both die protecting you from that same world they blindly brought you into. It’s been hard, but you’ve made it through and it actually was your birthday this week, the big 24. What a way to celebrate – being abandoned by the only thing keeping you safe and becoming walking bait for any clickers nearby. But still, you had fairly good spirits all things considered. Until you fell into an eight foot hole.

It was in this hole that you realized a couple of things:

You’ve stumbled upon a domesticated piece of land. Someone somewhere near had the time, safety, and resources to dig an eight foot hole.

If your ankle wasn’t sprained before, it was definitely sprained now considering how you landed on it.

You might have just fallen into your grave.

It was a series of progressively worse realizations, to say the least.

Time had already felt like a concept out of your grasp for the last 20 years, but now there was truly no way of knowing if you had been down there 20 minutes or two hours when a shadow was cast on you. A man-shaped shadow. A man-shaped shadow with a gun.

The gun was pointed right at you, the sun casting a halo around this giant man’s head. He towered over you as he held his stance firm and still. No one said anything as you both stood, unwavering.

“I come in peace?” You finally choke out, unsure of what you could possibly say to save your own life right now.

He doesn’t move, just croaks “How’d you find this place?” You notice the fragments of a Southern accent, nearly lost to the wear and tear of an apocalypse.

You clear your throat and try to muster up the courage to speak with conviction. “My group abandoned me when I twisted my ankle early this week. I’ve just been aimlessly wandering.” You pause, unsure of if the next sentence will be your last, “This ankle of mine really hurts by the way. Your hole here isn’t really helping, considering I landed on it.”

You see him move his head out from behind the gun and look down at you slightly, then he moves back to position. “Are you armed?”

“No, I’m barely legged.”

He does not laugh.

“That’s something we call a joke, you know, since I can barely walk and all.”

His weight shifts again and he finally puts down the gun. “I’m going to help you out, but after that you better see yourself out of here. I don’t want any more of this and I don’t want any of your friends wandering this way either.”

“I don’t have any friends. I don’t have any family. I’m just me.”

He scoffs, “Sure, kid.”

“I’m also not a kid. I’m 24 years old and I’m hungry and my ankle hurts and why do you even have this hole anyway?!” You notice yourself turning hysterical but you don’t even care. You’re unarmed and you’re hungry and you’re all alone for the first time in a very, very long time. This man holds all of the power to help you and you’re not going to give up until he does.

He doesn’t respond immediately, but when he does it’s in the form of him reaching down into his utility belt and pulling out a rope, and throwing you the other end. “You get one meal.”

You didn’t even know a meal was on the table, so you hobbled your way behind him as fast as you could. You ended up at a white, well-kept house behind an industrial strength gate. “How the hell did you find this place?”

He doesn’t answer right away, making you worried that you said the wrong thing somehow. Finally, when you’ve reached the front door, he huffs “It belonged to a friend.”

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Part 2: The Fall, 6 Months Ago

That one meal turned into two days which turned into a week which turned a month which turned into six. You owe most of your thanks to Joel’s 14-year-old companion (contraband?), Ellie. She was instrumental in convincing Joel to allow for you to stay. If it weren’t for her, the first dinner would have easily been your last. But she was so taken with you and excited to have another girl let alone someone under 30 hanging out with them. Not that she didn’t adore Joel, or him her in his own little ways. But you were just such a breath of fresh air to her that Joel couldn’t help but allow for you to stay.

Your role in their little group wasn’t quite clear. Joel did all of the hunting and patrolling necessary to keep this little slice of paradise exactly that, paradise. Ellie’s only job was to stay safe, and you decided to pick up the slack wherever you could. Dishes, clothing repairs, cooking dinner. Ellie didn’t need a nanny by any means, but you basically became a live-in housewife. With none of the perks, despite your daydreaming.

The last six months had been tumultuous for you to say the least. The presence of Joel constantly by your side made a lot of things very difficult. Like focusing, or keeping the weakness out of your knees, or the heat out of your dreams. He was hot, there was no denying it. If he hadn’t been waving a gun in your face the moment you met, it probably wouldn’t have taken you until the end of your first dinner to realize this. But not only was he hot, he was stoic. He was still and firm, a guiding light in this uncertain world you and Ellie both came of age in. He had a cold exterior, but judging by the way he treated Ellie, and eventually you, you knew there was some warmth bubbling beneath the surface. You knew he carried immeasurable hurt on his back, Ellie had told you about his daughter, Tess, Bill and Frank, and that was only the things Ellie knew. Who knew what was in the even further past of this sturdy man. The big, beautiful, brooding man who took care of you and Ellie despite his best instincts.

You had only very recently gotten over your sprained ankle, taking a full 12 weeks to heal from the severe sprain. This was another saving grace for you in the beginning. Joel liked to pretend that he was heartless, but he still didn’t have the heart to send you on your merry way with only ¼ of your appendages working to their full capacity. He tried to kick you out after your first dinner despite Ellie’s whining, only to be able to only stomach three of your hobbling paces out the door.

“Oh for God’s sake get back in here why don’t ‘ya,” You remember him sighing.

He took such good care of your ankle, at night when you’re all alone you can still feel the way his calloused fingertips massing you so gently. The hard with the soft; the essence of Joel Miller.

“Does this hurt?” He asked four weeks in, as you sat for your nightly ankle exam. Starting your very first night, after dinner he would take your foot into his lap and exam it and massage it carefully for upwards of 15 minutes. You weren’t a doctor, but you knew enough to know that a nightly exam was excessive and unnecessary. But even at the very beginning you knew this was his way of showing you that he cared, that he wanted you safe. It was around this time that you realized that Joel had a soft spot for stragglers, for the outcasts who just needed somebody. Between you and Ellie, that much was clear, and it just made you fall faster for him than you thought possible.

This realization and the true weight of it didn’t come to a head until one day where you decided to go out and try and collect some berries from the woods on the other side of the gate for a pie you wanted to make Joel for his birthday. You had seen him do it a million times, you thought you could get away with it. Until you heard that sound.

Everything was fine, you had collected your blueberries and you were on your way, and then you heard it. You hear it before you see it, but soon enough you see it all the same. You had your gun with you, but your reaction time was nowhere near as fast as Joel’s was. The clicker starts stalking your way when you lose yourself to your impulses and just start running. You know better than to scream, but you get close. You run and you run and you’re looking back to make sure you’re not going to get caught when you smack into something six foot and massive. Joel’s chest. After you make eye contact you look up and make eye contact with him. He’s silently fuming, fists white knuckling around his gun.

You go to speak when he stops you, “Don’t.” He whispers right before he shoots the clicker dead with no hesitation or struggle. The walk back to the house is silent, and not because he’s afraid of being found by the clickers.

The slam of the front door is the first sound you’ve heard in minutes. He whips around and you swear you can see smoke coming out of his ears. “What the hell was that?!”

“I-” You start.

“You know what? I don’t want to know. I can’t hear from you right now.”

You say nothing.

“That was so completely careless! Do you not understand how we do things around here? You stay, I go. It’s as simple as that.” He’s pacing at this point, waving his hands wildly as he works through his anger with you. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

You pause, “I thought you didn’t want to hear from me.”

He stops pacing and looks at you, “Ha ha ha very funny. You’re a real smartass, you know that? If I hadn’t been there God knows what would have happened. You could have gotten killed!”

You look down at your feet, trying to hold back tears before you look back up. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to do something nice for you.”

He sighs, physically decompressing. “Well you went about it all the wrong way. I don’t need anything nice from you, you do enough around the house and with Ellie anyway,” He pauses, “I don’t know what I would have done with myself if you had gotten hurt.” He says this last part in a whisper under his breath, barely able to look at you.

“But it’s your birthday!” You choke out a sob. You’re so mad at yourself for putting yourself in danger and upsetting the man who saved your life six months ago.

“What? No it’s not.” He says, confused.

Then, a lightbulb goes off for both of you as your jaws drop and you yell in unison, “ELLIE!”

Turns out, Ellie just wanted some pie.

================================================

Part 3: The Catch, Present Day

A lot can change in six months. But also, a lot can stay the same. You’ve grown very accustomed to the life you live here, in this big beautiful house, with your small makeshift family. Ellie is 17 now and makes Joel take her on test drives in Bill’s old truck around town. Joel has definitely gotten used to having you around, and even converted Frank’s old studio into a bedroom for you a couple of months ago. A real upgrade from living on the couch for the first eight months.

Life is pretty standard, all things considered. You’ve heard more stories about the men who ran the house before you and you think they’d be happy to have people like you living a life like this in the home they built together. It’s a beautiful thing, to have some normalcy in a world fallen apart.

You spend a lot of time with Ellie, who has developed a crush on one of the QZ traders. She’s tall and lean and tougher than all hell, you can see what Ellie sees in her even if you’re personally afraid of her. This realization on Ellie’s part has prompted a lot of impromptu sleepovers in your art studio turned bedroom, almost all of which are ended by Joel standing in the doorway going on about keeping quiet out of respect for your elders. You have to remind him every time that you too are an elder.

It’s also the summer time which means there’s lots to do outside. You never really learned how to tend to a garden so Joel’s been teaching you how to take care of the one Frank started all those years ago. You two keep it up with the seeds you get from trading with those select few still at the QZ, and it’s been a really special time between the two of you. It also doesn’t hurt that he prefers to work in the garden shirtless.

“Hello? Hello? Are you even listening to a word I’m saying?”

You snap out of the trance you were in from watching him hoe or row or whatever it is he’s doing with that gardening tool that makes his arms and back look like that. “What? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“You’re never going to learn if you keep daydreamin’ like that.” He gruffs before starting his spiel on strawberries all over again.

You really can’t get a read on him. Sometimes he treats you as an equal, someone who has a shared interest in their work and in the safety of Ellie, but other times he treats you like you’re a toddler that can’t help but knock their head on the corner of a coffee table. He claims it’s because he doesn’t want you hurt, which you admit gives you butterflies, but if anything between you is ever going to transpire (like you desperately need it to), he can’t see you as just some kid. You’re turning 25 next week, dammit. You deserve some respect. But you’re just not sure how to get it, how to make him see you as a true equal. Someone he can rely on, put his faith into, and even care about on a deeper level.

The opportunity of a lifetime presents itself one day in the form of something actually rather unfortunate. Joel finally gets hurt.

It’s a pretty normal day until then. You and Ellie practice driving, you journal, listen to some old records. It’s too hot to spend too much time outside, but you definitely make sure to check on the strawberries considering the lecture you got from Joel last week. It’s midafternoon when he comes straggling in, clutching his left arm in his hand and seething through the pain.

You immediately jump up from the couch, “Oh my God, what happened?”

He sinks down on the chair next to the piano, not looking at you. “Nothing, just go get the first aid kit.”

That answer is nowhere near good enough, but you go and get it anyway. Ellie is out in the backyard and doesn’t hear the commotion. When you return with the first aid kit you press on, “You have to tell me what happened so I can know how to treat you.”

He shifts uncomfortably in his seat as you kneel in front of him, opening the kit. “It’s nothing, just gonna need a couple stitches.”

You pry his right hand off his arm and see a deep gash on the bottom of his forearm. It’s not too long, but it sure is deep. “Jesus Joel, what the hell happened?”

He shifts and sighs once more, whispering something under his breath that you can barely hear.

“What was that?” You ask earnestly.

He whispers again, slightly louder this time, but he’s talking too fast to make out what he said.

“Joel, come on. What happened?” You’re tending to his wound now anyway, but you really do need to know.

He sighs, bringing his free hand up to pinch between his eyes. Avoiding eye contact with you he finally says, “I was walking back from trading when I saw a flower. I wanted to get that flower for you for your birthday. With my shears in one hand, I leaned down to get it, and I lost my balance and I tripped and I fell on top of the shears and they stabbed me.” He pauses, “There, you happy? Now that I’ve humiliated myself…” He trails off.

You’re too stunned to speak. You just keep staring at him, unmoving.

“If you’re not going to fix this up, give me the kit so I can do it myself,” He huffs at you.

You swallow and smile at him, trying to find the words. “Joel Miller, you secret softie. You maimed yourself in the pursuit of trying to do something nice for me, the girl you claim not to want around.”

He locks eyes with you for the first time during this conversation, “I never claimed that.”

Silence hangs in the air for a moment until you clear your throat and turn your attention to the wound at hand (or should you say, at arm?). “Let’s get this stitched up, ok?”

“If Ellie asks, tell her I did something super manly and tough to get these stitches, ok?”

You let out a laugh and nod, “Sir, yes sir.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s been three days since Joel hurt himself trying to do something nice for you and it has not left your mind even for a moment. You’re laying in bed wide awake, tossing and turning wondering what this could mean. I never claimed that he said so earnestly to you. I never claimed that. The four words echo in your brain like a megaphone. It’s been torture being around him as if nothing has changed. As if you haven’t changed on a molecular level after those four words rearranged every fiber of your being. It may be nothing, but it also could be something. It could be the that takes what you’ve been craving for almost a year to leave your daydreams and become a reality. Maybe he meant it in a friendly way, maybe even in reference to your working relationship of raising Ellie and keeping her safe. But if that were the case, why did it feel like all of the air in the room stood still? Why did he look to you like he was a puzzle that only you could solve?

Cordiality be damned, you had to know the answer.

You sneak out of bed and up the stairs, careful not to wake Ellie in her room on the first floor. Joel may be modest, but he still took the primary bedroom upstairs when they moved in. You avoid the creaking steps up the stairs artfully and end up at his door. It is only at this point you realize how crazy this is. You’re standing outside his door in the middle of the night with no plan and, frankly, no pants on. This is a recipe for disaster that you’ve quickly talked yourself out of. You go to turn around when the door swings open, Joel looking alert. His body visibly relaxes when he sees that it’s just you, and then tenses once more as his eyes trail down our body to the long length of your bare legs.

“What are you-” “Sorry I was just-” You say at the same time.

You laugh, trying to break the tension. “Sorry, I was just leaving.”

“What are you doing up here, Y/N?” His body was pressed up against the side of the doorway, blocking it almost entirely with his broad stature. Shoulders resting on the side of the doorway, arms and feet crossed, he looked in no hurry to get you out of there.

“It doesn’t really matter, I answered my own question. I’ll just head back downstairs,” You go to walk away when he grabs your arm lightly, turning you back to face him.

“Must’ve been some curiosity if it’s keeping you up at night.” You’ve never heard him talk like this. Not just the words he was saying but how he was saying them, they were smooth and slow and rich like molasses. It instantly made your mouth dry up and your knees weaker.

“I um, I was just wondering-”

“Yes?” He prompted, his hand still on your arm. Had he ever touched you before this? Surely you would have remembered the heat.

You look him in the eyes and see a glint, even in the darkness. This spark of something gives you the courage to move along. “I was just wondering what you meant by saying you never claimed you didn’t want me around.”

His hand drops from your arm and the heat is replaced by an instant rush of cold in his absence. He looks away from you and doesn’t speak.

Fearing you said the wrong thing you cower and turn to walk away once more. How could you have been so stupid? This isn’t just a matter of personal politics, this is a matter of survival. You have no one besides Joel and Ellie and if you get kicked out for bringing feelings into what is a basic need for shelter, food, and water, you will never forgive yourself.

You’re almost to the stairs when you hear him rumble, “I just meant that I have always wanted you around.” You whip around and see him looking at you, his gaze trailing down your body and then all the way back up again. “I want you here. Always have.”

Not moving towards him you speak, “Then why do you act like I’m some sort of helpless child? Why do I not have any real responsibilities? I could be out there, with you, trading and gathering intel. But instead I get, what, strawberries?”

“You don’t get it.” He looks down and shakes his head.

You walk back over to him, softly, so as not to spook him again. “Then help me understand.”

He looks at you with a softer gaze this time, “I keep you here, away from all of that, because I can’t risk you getting hurt,” He pauses for a moment before continuing, “It would kill me.”

You’re stunned. “Joel,” You start before he lifts a hand and cuts you off.

“And I give you things like strawberries because I want you to have a chance at a good life, a simple life. One I can’t promise you forever but can promise you for right now. One I know you don’t even remember having.”

Your heart is beating immeasurably fast inside your chest. You never considered that these menial tasks were actually normal, and good. Cleaning up after dinner, growing strawberries, talking about crushes with Ellie. In the midst of wanting to prove yourself, you completely forgot to take stock of all that Joel had given you already. All the things people dream about in this day and age.

You reach a hand up to touch his face, “Thank you. Thank you for giving me something good,” You pause, “I wish I could give you something good in return.”

He leans his head into your hand and closes his eyes, letting out a contented sigh. He turns his head to kiss the palm of your hand, “You are my something good,” he says so low you almost miss it.

But you don’t miss it. You hear it loud and clear. You hear him loud and clear for probably the first time since you’ve met him. He is stoic and strong and brooding and brave, but he is also caring and thoughtful and safe. He is the hard with the soft, and he’s been giving you both all this time right under your nose.

You decide to do something risky. You lean in for a kiss. You put your hopes for survival at the back of your mind and for the first time in forever you prioritize living.

It doesn’t take more than two seconds for Joel to pick up on what you’re doing and reciprocate. His arms immediately move from crossed over his chest to around your waist, pulling you deeper into the kiss. He pulls you so deep you cross the threshold of his bedroom, kicking the door shut on your way in.

“Be quiet or you’ll wake Ellie!” You half scold, half giggle as you make your way towards the bed.

“Sorry!” He giggles back. Joel Miller. The Joel Miller giggled into your lips. You could hardly believe your ears.

If his words were like molasses, his kiss was just as sweet. Not too pushy, but with enough force to let you know that he was in charge. He guides you to the mattress with his body and his mouth, making you feel like you’re flying. You’re sprawled out with your legs over the edge of the bed when he finally pulls away and stands before you.

You look up at him with hooded eyes and heavy breaths, “Why’d you stop?”

He runs his hands through his hair, “I just never want to forget this.” And he dives back down to you, not giving you a moment to respond.

When he comes back his kiss is still sweet, but with a heat you’ve never experienced before. Granted, all of your past experiences were minimal, probably in the back of an abandoned, decaying car, and in the midst of an apocalypse, but you knew enough to know that it didn’t normally feel like this.

You part your legs so he can insert his body between them, propping his arms on either side of your head as he kisses you deeply. You wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer to you, needing as much of him on you as possible.

“Somebody’s eager, huh?” He asks you between kisses.

Your resolve is officially broken, you’re laying it all out on the table. “You just have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

He pulls back to look at you, “Oh, I think I have an idea. You tend to have a staring problem, darlin’”

Your face flushes instantly. He lowers his lips to your ears and whispers, “I do too, I’m just a little more subtle with it.” He places kisses on your neck and then trails back up to your ear, “Your body drives me crazy, baby.”

Suddenly his hands are everywhere. One is up by your head so he keeps his balance while the other is trailing up and down your chest, your stomach, your neck. He’s everywhere all at once and it still isn’t enough. Your legs are still wrapped around his waist so you buck up to create even more friction than there already was.

“Easy there, baby, I’ve been waiting an awful long time for this, I want to take it slow with you. Gotta treat you right.” He pins your waist down to the mattress with one hand. “Let me take care of you, baby.” His look is so sincere all you can do is nod. “Good girl.”

With that, he takes his hand pinning you down and runs the tips of his fingertips along the waistline of your underwear, teasing you. You whine.

“Patience baby,” A kiss on the cheek, “It will be worth it, I promise,” A kiss on the other cheek. Then his fingers are tugging them down inch by inch until you’re completely bare to him from the waist down. “So pretty,” He says, almost to himself.

Before you have time to acknowledge what he’s said, the same gentle fingertips that were teasing you a moment ago land on your most sensitive spot, creating a feeling of pleasure unlike anything you’ve ever known. Your body somehow tenses and melts into the mattress at once as he works you slowly but surely.

“How does that feel, baby?” His voice is rough around the edges but soft at its center, he genuinely wants to gauge your reaction, as if your whines and body language weren’t enough.

“Itfeelssogood” You slur out, hands gripping the sheets on either side of you.

He kisses your neck, “Good. Now,” He moves his finger to your center and thrusts it in, moving his thumb back to your clit. “How does that feel?”

He’s working you up so good, you feel like you’re floating. His pace is the perfect mix between rough and conscious, never taking his eyes off you for even a second. You can tell he’s loving this as much as you are, and not just because you can feel his erection through his boxers.

You moan as he works you before answering, “Joel it feels so good.”

“Such a good girl for me, so wet and ready. Is this what you were thinking about when you couldn’t sleep?” He whispers in your ear as he picks up the pace.

You can feel something building deep inside of you, something you haven’t felt in a long time, and never at this magnitude. It’s coming on strong and fast, you can almost reach it. “Yes, this is what I was thinking about. I was thinking about your hands on me.”

“Mmmm that’s what I like to hear baby, what else were you thinking about?” He grabs one of your hands and brings it to his boxers, “Were you thinking about this?”

You moan and nod your head, he’s continuing to pick up his pace and you’re getting closer and closer.

“I want you to cum for me, gorgeous. Please cum for me.”

You throw your head back and moan again, “I want to cum for you.”

“Just focus on how good it feels baby, you’re so close I can feel it. Be a good girl for me.”

And just like magic, you’re there. It hits you like a freight train and your whole body is consumed. You’re tensing and writhing and it definitely isn’t normally like this, but you’re just so overcome with emotions for this man and pleasure and all of the things that drive a girl crazy.

He coaxes you through it with lots of reassurances and hair pets, and then finally you’ve come down. “Thank you,” You say as he brushes some hair out of your face.

“Don’t thank me yet darlin’, I’m not done with you yet.” And with that, he hauls your body up to the head of the bed, making sure your head is all settled on the pillows. He sits back on his knees and takes off his shirt, nodding at you to do the same. You’re left completely bare and he in his boxers alone. You’re mesmerized by his body. Age normally should have broken him down, but for him he seems to have only been built up. You had seen him in the garden but this, this was something entirely different. He was raw here, with you.

“This is what I meant by you needing to be more subtle. You don’t need to undress me with your eyes, baby, you just gotta ask.” He stands up and drops his boxers, revealing himself to you fully for the first time. He’s big. Like, real big. And thick. You don’t let yourself dwell on the mechanics for more than a moment, but you do wonder how it’s going to fit.

He gets back in bed and hovers over you once more, “Are you sure about this? We can stop at any time.”

You nod your head, “I’m sure. Never been more sure about anything, actually.”

He gives you one more kiss, a firm one with the promise of a good time. You run your fingers through his hair and tug slightly. He moans into your mouth. “You sure are an eager one, aren’tcha?”

He grabs his member and lines it up with your center, teasing you slightly. You wince at the sensitivity from your previous orgasm. “You ok?” He asks gently.

“Yeah, just a little sensitive. But I’m ready. Please fuck me, Joel.” The words even surprise yourself as you say them. You’re not the best at being direct about what you want, but right now all you can do is rely on pure instinct.

He chuckles darkly before lining himself up once again, “Your wish is my command, sweetheart.”

And just like that, he’s fucking you. Long, hard strokes that never feel like too much too fast. Just right. You feel the fullness of him immediately and it’s so divine you can’t help but arch into him and moan. Your fingers fly back into his hair as he thrusts into you with such precision, he hits your G-spot every time.

“Is that good for you, baby? Tell me how it feels.” He grunts as he pounds into you expertly.

“I love it, baby. I love it,” You’re breathless as you try to find the words to describe the way he’s making you feel.

He takes one of your legs and rests your ankle on his shoulder, opening you up even more than you thought possible and deepening the angle of his already deep thrusts. You try not to scream, so you grab a pillow and put it over your face.

He rips it off almost immediately, “Oh no, sweetheart. No hiding from me. I want to see your pretty face when I make you cum on my cock.”

You’re so incoherent you can’t even respond to his filthy words. You just moan in response and grab the sheets on either side of you.

He changes his pace a couple of times, switching from slow and long to fast and shallow, but it never feels out of place or off rhythm. He is just somehow so in tune with your body that he knows exactly what you need when you need it.

You’re whining and moaning when he lowers your leg and gets his face up next to yours. His hand moves down to your clit and he starts massaging it while he continues to thrust into you. “You’ve been such a good girl tonight baby,” He says through his own labored breathing. “Coming up here in your little panties practically begging to get fucked. Such a good girl.” You moan so loud he covers your mouth with his other hand, “I love hearing those moans baby but you gotta keep it quiet if you want me to keep going. And I know you want me to keep going.”

You nod and he removes his hand from your mouth and sits back again, watching you from above. “Play with your tits while I make you cum.” You do as you're told, loving the feeling of his eyes fixed on you while you do exactly what he says.

Once again, you feel something building inside of you. The combination of him inside you, his fingers working their magic, and his eyes on you makes it nearly impossible to resist the feelings as they come on strong.

“I’m gonna cum,” You whine.

“Do it baby, cum for me” He picks up his pace and you can tell he’s getting close himself, can tell he’s chasing something.

It only takes a couple more seconds before you finish in an explosion of pleasure. You’re so out of it as you come down you barely register him pulling out and grabbing a tissue from the side table. What a gentleman.

You’re both laying there in silence when the gravity of what just happened finally hits you. You just had sex with the one person that stands between you and certain death. This could ruin everything. You move to get up and go back to your room when you feel an arm on you, pulling you back down.

“Stay,” He pauses, “Please stay with me.”

You smile softly at him and lay back down, but this time he wraps you up in his arms and spoons you. You can feel his breathing on the back of your neck and his calluses on your arms as he holds you. He starts tracing little circles on your skin with his thumb while he hums.

“That was amazing,” You say, finally breaking the silence.

“Yeah, um, sorry if I came on too strong,” He pauses, “Haven’t done that in awhile.”

You turn around to face him and you rest a palm on his cheek, “It was perfect. You were perfect. I um, I just hope this doesn’t change anything?” You nervously finish.

He looks startled. He quits rubbing circles on your skin and moves back. “Yeah, no. No, it doesn't have to change anything.”

Clearly, you’ve struck a chord and you don’t know why or how. But you do know that you need to fix it.

“I just, I know we’re in a precarious situation and I don’t want you to feel like our relationship has changed at all.” You begin.

He sits up fully with his back against the headboard, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Joel?” You join him up against the headboard, covering yourself with the blanket.

He sighs but doesn’t look at you, “If I had thought everything would stay the same I wouldn’t have done what I just did. I wouldn’t have opened the door and I certainly wouldn’t have let you in.”

You’re stunned and you’re scared, having no idea what he’s talking about. “What are you saying?”

Finally, he looks at you. “Dammit Y/N what if I want things to change?” He doesn’t raise his voice at all, but his tone is stern enough to send you aback.

“What?”

Another sigh, “What if I want things to change? What if I want somebody who is going to be there for me at the end of the day in my bed? This world isn’t permanent and I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now. For now, I want this. For now, I want you. And I’m gonna keep wanting you until the thing that stands in the way of me and death itself disappears.” He pauses, “So yeah, maybe you don’t want things to change but I do. Sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear.” He looks away from you again.

“Joel, I-”

“I don’t want your pity. I get it, I’m just some old man with a 17 year old basket case trailing behind me and you’re young and beautiful and just had an itch to scratch. We’ll continue with business as usual in the morning. Good night.” He flips over onto his side away from you.

You huff. This is ridiculous, you think to yourself. You tap him on the shoulder.

“You should probably go back to your room, Y/N.”

You tap him on the shoulder again.

He flips around to look at you, “What more could you possibly want from me?”

You cross your arms over your blanket covered chest, “What makes you think I wanted things to stay the same?”

“Gee, I don’t know, probably the part where you said ‘things don’t have to change’?” He says sarcastically as he sits back up to face you. “Wonder where I got that crazy idea.”

“I was just saying that in case you didn’t want anything to change! I’m totally at your mercy with everything, including my survival here, so sorry for being cautious.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his mouth does fall open in shock a little bit.

“Joel, trust me when I say I’m not taking pity on you when I say I want this too. I can’t promise you forever but I can promise you for now, and for tomorrow, and for the next day and the day after that. I choose you and I choose Ellie and I want this. I want you. I want to be the one that is there for you at the end of the day.” You smile at him and grab his hand, “You’re my good thing too.”

His face softens and he grabs your joined hands with his other one and leans over to kiss you on the cheek. You lean into it and giggle as he begins peppering a bunch of kisses all over your face. The hard with the soft, that’s Joel Miller.

“Let’s go to bed, shall we?” You ask him as he leans over you, caressing your face.

“Yeah, let’s go to bed.” He gives you one last kiss on the cheek and spoons you once more.

That night you dream of strawberries. Just fields and fields of strawberries.

#joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #the last of us hbo #tlou #tlou fanfic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller imagine #joel last of us #joel last of us smut

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nevadas-night-time-novelist · 3 months

Note

hurt/comfort with female reader with Werewolf! Sanford?

reader has she/they pronouns

Pubby man :3

Werewolf!Sanford x Demigirl!reader

CW: mentions of painful transformation, reader gets hurt by accident

Scrolling down your feed today greeted you with posts and photos of both your ex boyfriend and ex best friend, mutual friends showering them with love and praise about their engagement, completely forgetting about how a year ago you'd caught them cheating together.

She was moved in, and you were evicted, a lifelong friendship down the drain, and a supposedly solid relationship of five years gone, bags packed and dumped outside with you.

Old scars ached again, tears filling your eyes despite how hard you tried to fight them. "She thought I actually loved her!" Ex bf laughed, his girl joining in. "They're so stupid! I mean really [Name], do you think someone like him would care for a nothing like you?"

It was dark, a light drizzle dampening your skin and suitcase, hands shaking from the winter chill and adrenaline pumping in your veins. Who could you even call right now? The two people you'd usually turn to were the ones who'd caused this agony.

A name popped up in your contacts, one you'd run with in the past for a brief period. Sanford, a man with a spotty past, but a heart of gold. It'd been a few years... Would he have the same number? Would he remember you? Would he even care?

You hit dial.

Your walk down memory lane was disrupted as the bed was weighed down, San flopping down next to you with a towel around his hips, and one around his lengthy locs. "Hey princess," He sported a wolfish grin, but it dropped when he saw you crying. "oh sweetie, what's wrong?"

He sat up and pulled you into his arms, even if you'd tried to resist, you doubted you could, his arms muscular from all the fighting and heaving lifting he did in his day-to-day. The smell of wet dog clung to him, part of his lycanthropy, no matter how hard he scrubbed or what scents he used, he'd always smell of wet dog out of the shower.

"It-it's been a year since it happened," He glanced and your phone, still on the photo featuring ex bestie's hand, showing off the stupid rock on her finger. Carefully he took your phone and set it down.

Over the past year, you'd rekindled your friendship with Ford, introducing you to his current company and friends. As different as you were to the team, they'd mostly accepted you with open arms, with the exception of the ever looming darkness named Hank. They still didn't seem to have warmed up to you.

"Why did you bring an outsider in? She looks weak, unable to pull their weight here." Hank grumbled in annoyance.

"Cause they're Ford's friend, you moody creep." Deimos rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. "A friend of Fordie's is a friend of mine, alright chiquita?"

Doc, the leader of the group, watched you carefully behind his red tinted goggles. "I'll the the risk and accept you on the grounds that Sanford trusts you. But make no mistake, if you cross us, you won't like what will happen."

Once or twice a month, the boys would shower after working, and head out at night which had confused you at first, until you'd come to realise these outings always lined up with full moons. You'd cornered Sanford about it once, and he folded, showing off a massive scar on his back, claws had raked down it and eternally changed his fate.

"Werewolf. Would've have figured there would be werewolves out here, but there's vampires and witches, and other occultist stuff." He shivered as you touched them, long since healed over, but still sensitive and tender to touch. "I accidentally turned Deimos into one, who bit Doc and turned him, and in turn he changed Hank."

Despite the four of them being werewolves, you'd never seen any of them in their wolfy forms, and the curiosity picked at your brain whenever you glanced the scars on San's back, the one on Dei's shoulder, Doc's wrist and Hank's throat.

"C-can you please stay with me tonight?" You sobbed into Sanford's chest, and he let out a long sad dog sigh.

"It's a full moon tonight princess." His golden eyes met yours. "It'd be incredibly dangerous."

"Please?"

He sighed again. "Changing isn't super fun to watch, you get used to the pain after a few turns, but the noises and movements of it can be disturbing. But I am worried about you, so I will stay tonight. But whatever happens, please know I'm not going to be in full control of myself. The animalistic side can be vicious, which is why we go outside."

Darkness fell, Deimos whined about taking Sanford out and Doc seemed unconvinced about leaving you alone with another wolf, but eventually the three left when Hank began groaning and falling onto his hands, a sign of incoming change.

"Hank's always the first to turn." Sanford was laying on his stomach while resting his head on your lap, wearing boxer shorts and nothing else. Why would he get dressed up to tear out of his clothes later?

"I'd say it's because Doc bit him in the throat so the wolf side hits hit brain faster, but it's much more likely they're so eager to hunt and tear that they kinda force it." He was helping distract you, and it was working fairly well.

"Does he grow fur or is he bald like he normally is?" You had to stifle a laugh imagining a hairless werewolf.

"He grows thick black fur, like his eyebrows. But it's kinda funny they get hair once or twice a month only to lose it in the morning." San chuffed before letting out a long groan and exhale. "It's starting to happen, princess."

His golden eyes met yours, his iris growing further into his eye, his pupils narrowing into fine points. "I don't want to scare you, are you really sure you want me here tonight?"

"I couldn't be scared of you Sanford. I... Like you too much to be scared." A loud snap came from his body, his skull began to reform, nose and lips pushing outwards and transforming into a snout.

Sanford snarled the whole time his body shifted, his bones cracking and reshaping to accommodate his wolf form. You tenderly supported his head on your lap as he writhed in pain, he raked his claws over your thigh by accident, leaving bloodied scratches.

A mixture of black and dark grey fur coated his body, his arms, legs, back and face black, while the rest was dark grey with black mixed in. He was beautiful, his pelt incredibly soft under your fingers. San's golden eyes opened, and he looked up to you, a mixture of wildness and familiarity in him.

His cold wet nose twitched, and he looked down at your leg, noticing the scratch he'd made. "Don't... worry about it." You mumbled softly, apprehensive that he'd turn vicious if you spoke too loud. Of course you loved and trusted him, but at the end of a day, he was a gigantic wolf, who could tear you apart.

He licked the wound, and it ached, before going numb, and you watched as the flesh slowly melded together, forming a bumpy scar. Wolf spit had a healing factor of some kind, interesting.

Sanford got up, stretching his full body, joints creaking and popping slightly as they settled into their new positions. He shook his body, sending fluff everywhere, coating you, the bed, the floor, every surface.

"What are you going to do now..?" He looked at you, tilting his head aside. Normally he'd be full of energy, ready to spring, hunt, kill. But right now... He just wanted to lay with his packmate. San settled back on the bed, his chest heaving with each breath.

Admittedly he looked comfortable, and you cautiously laid your head on his side, hearing his heart beating. His fur was silky soft, he was a massive fluffy pillow, perfect to just close your eyes for a second on and-

You woke to the bed being disturbed, opening your aching eyes to see another wolf standing over you, his sea-glass eyes glittering softly. Tufts of black intertwined with his brown and white fur, his tail wagging slowly, careful to not spook you.

He smelled of smoke and earth, his tongue lolling slowly as he panted, tired from his hunt. Deimos, definitely Deimos. He collapsed over you, Sanford letting out a loud huff as the smaller, but still larger than you, wolf made himself comfy.

The next was a wolf of light and dark grey, white around his muzzle to show his age. Doc, judging by the black streaks sticking up like a mohawk along his back, and the scars along his face. He pressed his nose to your cheek before laying behind Sanford, the two back to back.

Last was a jet black wolf with angry red eyes, he leaped onto the bed, his lips peeled back. Interestingly, his missing lower jaw had been changed into one that bit his wolf face, and there was blood oozing from it. A lot of blood.

Hank spat a severed finger onto your chest, a familiar looking engagement ring around it, before they laid down, cheek slightly touching your leg. As grizzly as his gift was, at least Hank had done something nice for you. Kinda.

You tossed the finger aside and let the warm wolf pile lull you back to sleep, dreams of one day running with them flooding your mind. Perhaps... One day.

#hank #deimos #sanford #2bdamned #madcom #madness combat #madness combat x reader #madness combat reader insert #sanford x reader #x reader #x gon deliver to ya

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 10 months

Text

A few people - @badgirlforeddiemunson @thefreak0fhawkinshigh @ilovecupcakesandtea - have asked me things about my hair; routines, products, hints and tips. And I figured it'd be easier to make a generic post with everything included and people can pick and poke at what they want.

I'm not a vain person, but I will freely admit that my hair is my pride and joy. It is my baby. I have told my mother that my hair is the only grandchild she's ever gonna get from me, and now when she helps me with it, she calls it "babysitting my grandkid".🤣

I have quite fine hair but I have a lot of it, so it's quite thick. Holding it in one fist is a bit difficult and it knots very easily. This post includes routines, products, hints, tips, and things I think are relevant. My hair is my baby and a lot of my leftover energy between my job and my degree goes into my hair. I've dreamed of having hair just like this since I was a child - maybe seven or eight - and now as a twenty five year old, I am living the dream.

I hope those of you who are curious about my rather extensive hair care find what you need in here! I am open to questions about it, as well.💖

TW; in the 'basics' section, there is one mention of actual physical assaults related to non-consensual hair-cutting which happened in my home town about a decade ago. Not to me, but I worry about it every day as a lasting point of anxiety. If you want to skip this, it is the LAST BULLET POINT OF THE FIRST SECTION RIGHT BELOW THE CUT.

Okay, so... where to start...

The basics/equipment I use

I sleep on silk pillowcases and I secure my braids with silk scrunchies. It helps to prevent knots and tangles (it's not perfect, but my hair is much more manageable thanks to silk).

I use a wooden comb and a boar bristle brush which moves natural oils from my scalp down to the ends of my hair. I would never be using a plastic brush or 'normal' elastic ties in my hair. The thought makes me shudder.

I wash my hair once a week unless it gets rained on. In which case, I will wash it more than once a week, but neither me nor my hair will be happy about it.

I pat-dry my hair with a plain white cotton t-shirt and I let it air-dry, which takes about twelve hours to become damp-but-dry-enough-to-safely-brush. (Hair wash day is a whole ordeal, I need a day! More on this to come.) T-shirts are gentler and less damaging than towels; wet hair should be treated like glass because it's very fragile.

I never go outside of the house or go to sleep without first brushing and then braiding my hair. I never go outside with it down. This is because, honestly, I'm terrified someone will come up behind me on the street and assault me by cutting all my hair off (I have severe anxiety but also, this actually happened to a few girls in my town as a series of three assaults when I was a child and I've never forgotten about it) but also, doing this helps to prevent knots and tangles, which minimises damage to your hair.

I eat a lot of meat and dairy but I also take a generic multivitamin every day. Protein and fat are super good for you in general but also, what your body doesn't use, goes to your hair!!! Happy body = happy hair.💖

I am very precious about my hair, very few people are allowed to touch it. If I let you touch it, you are trusted. It's pretty much an "I love you". My mum helps me with my hair every day. I'm very grateful to her for it, and I make sure she knows how much I appreciate it.

My hair only needs a half-inch trim every eight months or so; dad measures it out with a ruler, mum watches him to make sure he's doing it right, he shows me what he's cut off after the first snip and I'll approve it and then he's allowed to continue. I cry a lot when it has to be trimmed, I hate it, and I grieve that half-inch until it grows back in about three weeks.

My different hair-care routines (these are extensive)

Hair wash day!

Number of stages: 4

Duration of all four stages: 13 - 14 hours🥰 (I have to schedule an entire day to do it and it can be tricky because my job doesn't always align with my preferred wash day, which is a Sunday, so sometimes I have to go 10 days without washing it and that can make me very irritable. It's the little things, you know? It has to be an all day thing because my hair takes twelve hours to become damp-dry enough to brush without damaging it. I never use heat on my hair; pat-dry with a t-shirt and then air-dry only. And then I have the brushing routine on top of it, which takes an hour if I do it myself, and ten minutes if mum does it for me, which she often does).

Brushing routine:

I brush my hair before I wash it. This is the first stage of hair wash day, and I do this routine after work. It takes me an hour to do it alone or ten - twenty minutes if mum does it.

I section my hair in two, over each shoulder, and then section it again so that my hair has been quartered. I always brush from the back first (I tuck the front section underneath the back section, which has been pulled forward to the front). Whichever side isn't being brushed, I secure into a side-ponytail with a silk scrunchie to hold it there while I work on the other half of my hair.

Starting from the bottom, I finger-comb first and manually untangle any big knots or tangles. If this part goes wrong, I will cry about it. It's instant panic attack if I can't get a knot undone with minimal effort.

Once that quarter-section is finger combed thoroughly, I then use my wooden comb to go through the section again and I alternate as needed back to finger-combing if I find a section I missed the first time.

Once that quarter-section is done, I put it behind me and start on the other section, same process as above. Doing one half of my hair usually takes me a half hour.

Once one half of my hair is brushed, I use a boar-bristle brush, going from the top of my hair down to the tips; this moves the natural oils through the hair. The oil normally comes down to just below my ear, and obviously the further away I am from wash day, the more oil there is, and so from the nape of the neck down to the very ends of my hair, I apply Mielle's rosemary and mint scalp and hair strengthening oil (£8.99 for a 59ml bottle; half a pipette is sufficient for one half of my hair, so it's expensive but does last a while).

Once the hair is finger-combed, combed, brushed, I then pull that section back as well and braid it in a simple three-strand braid and loosely tie it with a silk scrunchie. The first few patterns are tight to hold the braid, but after that, I loosen it off so it's a loose braid and loosely tied. In the morning, I'll redo my braids as needed before I go to work without brushing them - I don't have that time in a morning to do my whole routine before work. To secure it, I tie the silk scrunchie around one more time so it's tighter and will hold longer (bedtime braid: tie it around three times / morning braid before work: tie it around four times).

Repeat this whole thing again for the other half of my hair, and then I can go to bed. A normal night, this takes an hour, a bad night as in really knotty hair or I'm tired, two hours. Unless mum helps me with it. I can and will cry if I find a knot I can't immediately undo and it's not unusual for me to be swaying at the bathroom sink because I will not go to bed unless my hair is fully brushed, oiled, braided.

If it's wash day, I don't braid my hair or apply more oil, I just finger-comb, comb and then brush it and then get in the shower...

Washing routine: Okay. This is the most in-depth and complicated part of my entire thing I do for my hair, and I have to get it right or I will have an anxiety attack thinking I've just fucked all my hair up and I have to cut it off (I catastrophise a lot, especially with my hair). This is the second stage of hair wash day.

So, hair is brushed, shower time!

I have the water lukewarm - too hot will burn your hair and damage it, but too cold and you won't be able to get the oils out properly.

I get my hair wet so it's plastered to my back, and then I use L'Oreal's Dream lengths shampoo; I apply it to my scalp and to the surface of hair up to the nape of my neck, giving myself a gentle scalp massage (treat wet hair like GLASS!!!!). I rinse it all out once it's all in there, and then I use the same brand of conditoner, which is applied from the nape of my neck down to the very tips. Leaving that conditioner in, I then shampoo the scalp up to the nape of my neck a second time (it's like a greasy pan - the first lot of washing up liquid lifts the oil, the second lot of washing up liquid actually cleans the pan - same concept applies here to hair, especially because I only wash it once a week). And rinse that off too.

Then, I apply conditioner for a second time from the nape of my neck to the very tips of my hair, wiping off any excess on the top of my hair (just below the scalp so I don't clog my pores). I leave it in there while I wash my body, which takes a few minutes, and then I wash it off again. I let it all come out, and then I change the shower temperature so it's now COLD, to effectively close the pores in my hair.

My hair is washed! I pat it dry with a cotton t-shirt, then from the nape of my neck down to the halfway mark of my hair, I apply a leave-in conditioner, then from that halfway mark through to the ends of my hair, I use one pipette of the oil to cover everything, and then my hair air-dries for twelve hours until it's damp-dry enough to safely brush, as above!

Using oils and leave-in conditioner:

I use the oil every day from the nape of my neck to the ends of my hair, and every few days I apply leave-in conditioner from the nape of my neck to the ends of my hair. The top section of my hair (scalp to the nape) will be fine, it has the natural oils from the scalp, which is evenly distributed by using the boar-bristle brush.

Brushing routine: After twelve hours, I brush through my hair as in the first stage of wash day, so this is now stage three of wash day for me, and braiding it is stage four!

And finally, a picture of my baby!!! This was taken about two weeks ago and I believe it was the day after wash day!😍💖

I love it (her) so, so much. I bitch and complain often about the knots, but nothing fills me with instant grief and abject horror quite like thinking about having to cut off more than a half inch. That, in itself, is already cause for tears. My hair is my pride and joy, my favourite body part, and something I cherish as a very real, long-lasting childhood dream. I hope you find what you need in this post; I know it's not applicable to everyone because we all have different hair types and budgets, but hopefully something is useful.💖

I'm pretty sure this is everything but I might reblog with additions if needed, and I'm open to questions as well! My hair was jaw length in late 2019 when I started to grow it out, so it's grown quite quickly and I'm very in love with it.🥰

#haircare tips #haircare #hair growth

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ericdeggans · 2 years

Photo

Reckoning with the long shadow of TV dads on Fathers Day

As a longtime TV critic, I have written a lot of pieces about dads and television for Fathers Day. Some of them have felt a bit contrived, like this piece on TVs Dumb Dads, which is an evergreen subject; television loves taking characters who actually have the most agency and power in society and making them look vulnerable for storytelling purposes.

But TV’s relationship to the subject of fatherhood and parenting is far more complex. I’m much prouder of this piece I did five years ago on how I mostly learned about being a father from watching characters on film, TV and theater.

A sample: “My own father isn't with us anymore, and I loved him a lot. But he and my mother split before I was born, and during my formative years, it was mostly me and Mom against the world. Any sense of what it might feel like to have a father close by came from the first sitcom with a father who felt like he could live in my world: James Evans on Good Times. These days, when TV shows like Black-ish and Queen Sugar offer lots of different takes on black family and fatherhood, it might be tough to imagine how rare and important it was for a young black kid to see Good Times in 1974.”

Hear the NPR story by clicking here.

After raising four kids of my own, I’ve learned that fatherhood is such a big job, it’s tough to find one portrayal on the small screen that does it justice. In the real world, it’s a job defined by trying to provide everything your children require to have the best life possible. It means knowing when to encourage their passions, meet their needs and satisfy their desires and when to save them from their own excesses, inexperience, lack of judgment or impatience.

It means soaring when they succeed and feeling crushed when they fall short. It also means understanding that your own actions always serve as example and model – it’s up to you whether that conduct is something to emulate or avoid like a cautionary tale.

On the subject of fathering and TV, I also like an essay I wrote for IndieWire a few years ago; basically, a slightly different version of the piece I did for NPR. Here’s an abridged version of that essay below.

And have a Happy Fathers’ Day.

“For a long while, I thought most married couples were like Rob and Laura Petrie in “The Dick Van Dyke Show”; sleeping in two twin beds separated by a nightstand. So when I saw John Amos as James Evans Sr. on the legendary sitcom “Good Times,” I felt like I finally saw a dad who was something like the other fathers on my block, and something like the dad I could have had.

Yeah, he was often angry and threatened corporal punishment WAY too often for my tastes, especially back then. But he worked hard, loved and valued his kids, encouraged them to get educated and take advantage of every opportunity and wanted nothing more than for them to do far better than he ever would. It wasn’t just that James Evans was black; it was that he was a black man whose primary goal was taking care of his wife and kids. All these years later, I’ve seen other TV dads who also taught me lessons.

John Goodman’s Dan Conner on “Roseanne” taught me how to make space for a strong wife and mom, but assert yourself when circumstances require.

Bill Bixby’s Tom Corbett on “The Courtship of Eddie’s Father” taught me the power of a parent paying attention.

I like fathers who show that being a dad takes effort and intention, like Michael Rapaport’s Doug Gardner on Netflix’s “Atypical.”

And even though Milo Ventimiglia’s Jack Pearson is modern TV’s best dad on “This Is Us,” I identify a lot more with his adopted son, Sterling K. Brown’s Randall Pearson.

In the same way Randall, as a black man raised in a white family, had to learn what being black meant to him, I had to learn what being a father meant to and for me. In the same way he found and reconciled with his biological father shortly before his death, I reconciled mostly with my dad before he passed. And Randall has a goofy earnestness mixed with a capacity to work a little too hard on stuff that takes him outside the family, which I also – sadly — can relate to.

My four kids are mostly grown now. But seeing a dad on TV who still struggles, despite having had the best example of fatherhood in his life, means a lot. Even now.”

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icallhimjoey · 1 year

Text

A Whisper Away

♥ ♥ Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: A continuation of Like A Poem and A Lot Like Love where we dip into your November for a couple consecutive years and see how you’re getting on with the bookstore, Joe’s career and… other changes.

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, I strongly advise you to read the previous bookstore fics before diving into this one!

Author’s note: an amazing request from @darthvontrapp inspired this “third season” in the bookstore - this is the finale! THE finale! Thank you all so much for the interactions; my stories have NEVER gotten such long messages before and it's been the greatest joy. Thank you, thank you, thank you!

Wordcount: 5.3K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

You were sat on the hardwood floor when you heard Joe's heavy steps on the stairs as you looked up at the empty shelves in front of you. You were surrounded by cardboard boxes and sat hidden behind stacks you’d spent hours packing over the days prior. You’d taken a moment to just be there, to just sit and look around. Feel the space for a minute and, you concluded after a little while, it felt really nice, actually. Joe’s heavy steps grew louder until he was stood in the doorway with another big brown cardboard box in his hands, and he looked at you.

“Hey, are you all right?” the worry Joe didn’t show in his expression seeped out through his voice.

Joe bent over to put the box down next to you, grunting as he did, whilst you smiled up at him and nodded.

“This might be the best gift you’ve ever given me,” and you meant it.

The small room had been fitted with custom shelving, all the way up to the ceiling, covering every inch of wall it could, but leaving an insert big enough to fit an armchair into so it wouldn't take up too much floor space. The shelves had been treated with stain to resemble the bookstore as much as they could, and you loved it. Joe'd even placed a ladder against one of the shelves - ridiculous, the ceilings weren't that high, but lovely none the less. It was the smallest room in the house, but the best one. Joe tapped his finger on the box he’d just put down.

“This is the last one, I think. Careful, though, it holds extra fragile ones. Precious cargo. Handle with care!” Joe upped the dramatics of his voice with every word he spoke.

You furrowed your brow in confusion and tried to hide your smile. “Fragile books?”

Joe didn't answer your question but instead pursed his lips into a smile before leaning over and giving you a quick kiss, then turning on his heel, probably on his way to move more boxes into their designated areas. Your new entryway was big, but the number of boxes in there made it difficult to pass through. Not ideal when you also had a three-year-old running about, discovering the place. You watched Joe leave before you opened the box.

Ah. Yes.

These were fragile books. They were Joe’s books, most of which he’d bought from the store years ago, and he treasured them to a point where you thought that in a fire, Joe would probably be frantically stacking books into his arms before he'd even think of making it out of the building safely. You moved one from the top to see that Joe had packed the ones you’d given him, too, and it made you smile. They were the ones that fixed it. Well, not really. But they were definitely books that had helped; books that had started fixing things. And all because your best friend had berated you after you let her listen to Joe’s voicemail. Part of it, at least.

It had been the day after you’d let your mother listen to it when your best friend had come into the store on her lunch break. It was like you’d said so many times; we’ll have lunch together, and your best friend always replied, yes but let’s go somewhere. You never did. It was always her standing at the short side of the counter as you stood behind it. You doing work, her having lunch.

“Bye, have a nice day!” you called after a customer as they let the door fall closed behind them. You immediately fished your phone from your pocket.

“Listen to this,” you said, dialing your voicemail. You seemed too happy for a random Wednesday afternoon and your friend had been looking at you with suspicious eyes. She didn’t trust it one bit. You very briefly mentioned something about Joe before people had entered the bookstore and you’d put on your best customer service face to help them find what they needed. Having seen your relationship start and then dwindle from up close, she had strong opinions that she would share every time you didn’t ask for it. Seeing you fall back into a pattern she had hated from the start, she needed extra convincing that you were happy for good reason.

Upon hearing about this voicemail message, your friend had furrowed her brow as she took a huge bite from her sandwich.

“Never tell Joe that I’ve let you hear this, but it’s so good, I just have to. You’ll see.”

You placed your phone on the counter, put it on speaker and let Joe’s voice fill the silence of the store. After listening to about half of it, your friend reached over and hung up, cutting off the message.

“I shouldn’t listen to that, that seems far too private,” she shook her head as she went in for another bite.

“No, but– he goes on, you’re missing all the good bits now,” you’d picked up your phone and were already dialing to get back to the message, wanting to let her listen to how Joe had said he missed you and that he loved you, because those were the best things you’d heard him say in ages. But your friend used her free hand to push yours down, stopping you.

“So he said some shit you wanted to hear, and then you went over to fuck him?” her voice was dripping in judgement. You stared at her blankly for a moment, because, yes, that’s essentially what had happened, but she made it sound like it was the worst thing you’d ever done.

“Well, I–” you started but were quickly cut off by your friend who wasn’t having it.

“You heard him says some sappy bullshit in the middle of the night through your phone and now it’s all magically okay again? I mean, don’t get me wrong, it’s fantastic that you got railed,”

You snorted at her comment.

“Lord knows you needed it, but, I don’t think that’s how this shit works… So, he grand-gestured you? Now what?”

She looked at you, eyebrows raised high up on her face, chin tilted down. You didn’t know what to say. You’d been so excited to fill her in on things, on Joe’s grand gesture, on the handholding as you’d pushed Alfie in his stroller, on the reading in the armchair... You weren’t expecting for your friend to think you were an awful human being and to be lectured for it.

“What do you mean, now what?”

“What is it you want?”

The worst question. Because you didn’t have an answer ready. What you wanted was something no one could grant you. Truly, what you wanted was go back in time a few years and have Joe be the customer that would come in and use your store as a library before his frequent visits became public knowledge. And it’s like Joe knew, because why else would he have come in to pretend you didn’t know each other? Why else had he let tension build as he’d given you quick glances and little smirks as you very openly stared at him from behind the counter with heart-shaped pupils and a shit-eating grin? If anyone could point you in the direction of a time machine, you’d choose that. That’s what you wanted.

“Do you want to form an actual family with him?”

You thought for two seconds, then gave a tiny nod. Yes, you did want that. The alternative was something you definitely didn’t want, so this was an easy question.

“It won’t be easy,” your friend warned you, giving you a look you thought maybe your mother should’ve given you the day before instead of her. You didn’t know if you should have felt offended by it or not, but you decided to take her words at face value, knowing they were coming from a friend who cared. When you stayed silent, your friend tutted at you.

“That’s the whole thing, isn’t it? You thought this would be simple…”

No, you didn’t. Not exactly. You had known from the start that it wouldn’t be, and that was exactly what you had been afraid of. Because you wanted it to be simple. And Joe had made it sound simple. He had promised you simplicity when you had expressed that you’d been scared. Had you just been dumb enough to accept that as a truth, and were now blaming him for things not being as simple as either of you had imagined? That felt a little unfair, to you and to Joe.

“I don’t know how to explain to you that relationships are always going to be hard work, regardless of career choices, or children, or… I don’t know, public opinion, business ventures, travel – it’s always going to be difficult, and it’s always going to be pushing you out of all of your comfort zones.”

“You’re always going to be compromising,” you almost whispered it as you realised there wasn’t going to be a place that you’d arrive at one day, where everything would just be perfect, and you felt awful that this wasn’t something you’d actually realised sooner. There wasn't going to be a day where you'd be walking outside with Joe and no one would stop you to ask Joe for a picture. There wasn't going to be a day where girls would stop coming into the store and ogle at Alfie if he was in, telling you how much he looked like his father. There wasn't going to be a time where your distant family members would stop inviting you to parties you'd never have been invited to before, but you were now, all the time, and you assumed it was only because they'd hope you'd bring Joe. This was a reality with no end in sight, no final station for you to get off the fame-train and live in happily-ever-after-anonymity. It was something you’d known all along, somewhere in the back of your mind, but you’d never really felt it in your bones like you did now.

“You’re always going to be compromising.” she confirmed, echoing your words back at you.

You thought for a second, then looked at your friend.

“But our relationship's simple,” you countered, talking about your friendship with her. You’d been friends forever and still had the same dynamics you’d had for well over 15 years at this point. Your comment made her pout at you condescendingly. “Sweetheart, that’s only because I get to not speak to you for a week if I don’t want to put up with your shit for a little while,”

“Oh…”

“Look at where we are now. Do I not always say we need to go somewhere for lunch for once? And you always agree, saying that we should. Yet, here I am again, having another meal deal chicken club sandwich in your shop.” she gestured at what was left of her lunch.

Shit. She was right, and your face flushed with embarrassment.

You took another minute to think to yourself, glad no customers had come in yet to disturb the conversation. Even though most of the words weren’t things you wanted to hear, so far it had been an incredibly helpful and insightful chat. One you probably should’ve had way sooner, except you probably wouldn’t have accepted it then.

You shifted on your feet and turned your body to fully face your friend. Time to be vulnerable and ask her for help. Something you definitely had needed to do way sooner.

“What do I do?”

Your best friend was surprised by the sudden shift in you. She put the last bit of her sandwich into her mouth, wiped her hands clean and chewed for a second.

"Go for drinks with me, I still have about half an hour and I could down a few gin tonics if I put some effort in," she spoke with her mouth still full of food.

"About Joe," you clarified, taking a mental note of needing to go for drinks with your friend soon. Today, if possible.

“Grand-gesture him back and then commit,” your friend said it so fast, like it was the obvious thing to do. Like it made perfect sense.

“Commit…” you said it slowly as you let the word sink into your mind. “Commit to…?” you questioningly narrowed your eyes at your friend for a second, and she absolutely wasn’t having it.

“Oh my God, you’re such a stupid bitch. To Joe! To your family! To your life together, as a unit! Like, actually communicate! Talk! Share your feelings! Stop sticking your nose into a book every time you dare to fucking feel something!”

She made you laugh. Okay, you gathered as much and understood her loud and clear. You let your eyes wander around the store, going up and down shelves until eventually they landed on what used to be Joe’s ledge. His little ledge where he’d keep books that he wasn’t finished reading yet before you’d started dating and he used to use the store as his own personal library. Now, it was just a ledge. A place where Anne would sometimes leave her phone or mug of coffee that she'd forget about and let grow cold.

How could you pull a grand gesture like Joe had done? Leave him a voicemail message in the middle of the night? No. Joe would answer his phone, and it wouldn’t bear the same weight.

“Joe came in to read yesterday…” you said, your brain going full speed, trying to come up with something.

“Great, so you’re back in primary school?” your friend was just as annoyed, if not more so now, with the two of you as she had been when that’s what all you guys were; a guy reading in a bookstore, and its owner.

Suddenly: an idea.

You stepped around the counter and took a ladder to place at a shelf you needed something from. It took you no time to find it, and you were quick to climb down and place the book you’d grabbed on the ledge.

Stuff you should know, by Josh Clark.

You thought for a second, let your eye fall on one of the display tables and were quick to find the next book you were after.

I love you to the moon and back, from Little Tiger Press.

Your best friend watched you dart around the store for a good five minutes as the pile on the ledge grew. Halfway through, she saw what you were doing and rolled her eyes.

“What the fuck are you doing?” she asked, searching for confirmation as you were crouched down in a corner, head cocked to the side to be able to read the spines.

“It’s the books!” you explained erratically, like you’d figured life out itself.

“It’s always the fucking books.” your friend replied, shaking her head at you with a smile.

Tell me Three Things, by Julie Buxbaum.

Me You Us, by Lisa Currie