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willofthequill · 4 months ago

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Shining Starlet

Hot off the press, a new filthy smut-tastic one shot of my beloved Kyojuro Rengoku!

If you prefer to read on AO3 please click here!

Summary: Your husband, Kyojuro, is about to leave for several days for a teacher's workshop. But before he leaves, he has one little thing he needs to do so you both will be able to survive the separation.

WC: 2000+

CW: MDNI, SMUT, Fem reader, established relationship, PURE SMUT, making a sex tape, vaginal fingering, penis in vagina sex, some dom/sub, light choking, creampie - for the full list of CW please check the AO3 link.

“How many days will you be gone again?” you pouted as you stood at the sink, drinking an ice cold beer.

“Four days,” Kyojuro answered from where he sat at his desk, eyes focused on the laptop screen in front of him. “The workshop starts the morning after we land and we leave to come back in the evening on the day it wraps up.”

“I’m gonna be lonely,” you whined playfully. You knew you would be fine but you were still going to miss your husband.

“My poor wife,” he smirked. “So neglected.”

“What are you doing?” you asked as you finished the beer and tossed the can in the trash.

“Finishing up putting in grades so I don’t have to worry about remembering to do it while I am gone,” he said, fingers moving over the mouse and keyboard as he spoke.

His hair was down and tousled. While his tie was laying on the counter by your keys, he still wore his button down shirt and tie. You glanced at the clock and saw it was after 7pm. By now he was normally out of his monkey suit, well fed, a beer in, wearing his favorite joggers and laying on the couch with you.

You walked over and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing the side of his head. “Babe, its late. You can finish up tomorrow.”

“I’m almost done,” he said, ducking his head to kiss your hand while he continued to work. You sighed and started to walk away when he grabbed your hand and pulled you back to him. He glanced up at you. “Stay and keep me company.”

“I’ll be on the couch,” you chuckled, gesturing a few feet away from the desk where he had his laptop set up.

“Too far,” he said.

You laughed as he moved you so you were sitting on his thigh with his arm wrapped around your waist. “Is this better?”

“Mmmhmm. Much,” he grinned at you before turning back to the computer to keep working.

You leaned back against him and watched him work for a few minutes before pulling out your phone to mess with it while you waited, content to at least be touching him. And that’s when Kyojuro’s true intentions became clear.

Without ever taking his eyes off his computer screen the arm around your waist began to readjust. His large hand wandered under your shirt to your breasts, mindlessly tracing circles on your skin and around your nipples. You bit your lip and adjusted yourself just slightly so that his thick muscular thigh was more between your own.

You rested your head back on his shoulder and tried to keep focusing on your phone as his fingers toyed with your nipples. His hand moved down your body, nudging your thighs apart. It became increasingly hard to pay attention to the phone in your hands as his fingers ran up and down your thighs, traced over the swell of your mound, traced the lines of your panties.

You felt his hard on pressing against your hip and wiggled back just a little bit on it, grinning at the low groan he let out. “Something wrong, my love?”

“You just reminded me of something I wanted to do before I left,” Kyojuro said, something about his words making you raise your eyebrows.

His hands moved to position you fully in his lap, legs draped over his. Kyojuro’s fingers slid under the material of your shorts to rub against your panties. “Mmmm, so wet already.”

“Mmmmhmm,” you said, moving a hand to the back of his neck, your fingers stroking lightly over the sensitive skin. “Very.”

“Good,” he said, kissing the side of your neck. “Lets get rid of your shorts and panties, huh?”

“I thought you needed to do something for work?” you teased, moving your legs and hips to help him strip you bare from the waist down before settling back into your position.

“For my trip, not for work,” he said, mouthing at your neck.

His large warm hands cupped your inner thighs, squeezing the meat of them before sliding to your knees. You let out a small gasp as he lifted your legs so your feet were against the edge of his desk. Your eyes got wide when you looked at his computer screen and were greeted with the sight of your shiny pussy and the red recording symbol glowing.

“Uh…Kyo?” you asked unsure.

“This is for us only, of course. I would never show another soul,” he said as his hands slid down your thighs towards your pussy. “This is for while I’m gone, to tide us both over…”

“Ah, I see,” you said, spreading your knees even more to the side, watching the screen, almost hypnotized. “Don’t stop, love.”

His thumbs spread your cunt open, tracing up and down your glistening folds. He slid one finger into your tight hole, groaning softly at how wet you were. He nipped and kissed your ear, speaking loud enough the mic would catch it, “Good girl. So wet for me. I guess my suspicion was right about this being something you would enjoy doing together.”

You whimpered and nodded, not even realizing your hands had moved on their own will to your breasts and you were teasing the tightened buds sticking out under your shirt.

“Why don’t you pull up your shirt, my love? It’s in the way of your hands and my eyes,” his voice had a honeyed tone to it and you could feel his cock straining against his pants and throbbing against you. You did as he said, lifting your shirt up to just above your breasts. “Keep going, I didn’t say to stop.”

Your fingers ran back and forth over your sensitive tips, pulling on them lightly and moaning as your gaze caught his in the recording. You watched him add a second finger to your soaking cunt. The squelching noises were loud enough that you were sure it was being recorded with how close he had the laptop to your location.

Kyojuro slid his other hand from your thigh to start teasing your clit, moving his hands in a way that kept your cunt spread open, the recording catching every single detail. Your hips jerks and your mewls got louder and more frequent as he sped up his motions. “You’re getting close, aren’t you? You’re getting so tight on my fingers.”

“So close, so close,” you choked out, your hands had left your breasts and were braced on the arms of the computer chair.

“Cum for me, my love. Cum all over my fingers. If you’re a good girl maybe we can watch this again tonight at bed time, Hmmm? Does that sound good?”

You were panting and shaking as he spoke such filthy things and his fingers fucked into your cunt so perfectly. “Want that. Want that bad….. Ahhh!!”

The tension in your body snapped like a twig as your orgasm slammed into you. Your moans of his name were accompanied by moans of enjoyment of the scene from behind you and words of praise. “There you go. Just like that… so beautiful, look at yourself! You’re such an incredible sight to see when you fall apart in my arms like this… I’m such a lucky man…”

His hand slowed as he worked you through it, careful not to overstimulate you. His hand left your clit to rest on your throat to turn your face towards his so he could kiss you passionately as you came down from your high.

“Want to feel your cock inside me… please, baby,” you said, kissing at his lips in a hungry manner.

“Such a hungry little thing,” he chuckled, giving your cunt a squeeze and a light smack, making your thighs shake and him grin like the Cheshire cat. His hand slid under you and undid his pants and zipper, pulling out his hard length, the blushed tip already shiny and leaking with his want for you.

He took his cock in his hand and smacked it up against your wet cunt several times, making you mewl and your hips jerk on each contact. “Turn around, I want you to face me as you ride me.”

You stood up and turned around, straddling your husband happily. Kyojuro held his cock at the base and helped you line up and lower down. “Oh fuck, you’re so big, Kyo. You’re so fucking deep.”

He growled low in his throat and pulled your head to his so his lips could claim yours. His hands slid to your ass, squeezing the globes tight in his warm palms as he encouraged you to start moving. He put his chin on your shoulder, keeping an eye on the recording, not wanting to miss anything.

You held on as his feet planted more firmly on the floor and he began thrusting up into you. His hands kept your back bowed out and your ass cheeks spread. You looked over your shoulder at the screen, your cunt clenching on his cock at the sight of his cock plowing in and out of your sodden folds. Your eyes took in the cream coating his cock more and more on every thrust and forming a ring around his base.

“That’s it, my love. Doing so well! You’re taking my cock so well, good fucking girl,” he said, absolutely lost to the moment and the sight of the video.

“Oh fuck, Kyo! I’m gonna cum again!” you said, nails digging into his clothed chest.

His eyes met yours, the video forgotten as he felt his cock throb even harder at the look on your face and in your eyes. You leaned forward and kissed him passionately, throwing your head back as your orgasm hit and tore you apart.

“Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum, my love. Gonna fill you up, give you every drop in that pretty little cunt,” Kyojuro had become absolutely pussy drunk and lost in the moment, his hips pistoning up into your spasming, juicy cunt over and over again until he came, slamming you down one final time and holding you there as he filled your cunt with his seed.

You pressed your sweat speckled foreheads together before kissing him gently several times. “Are you done, Director Rengoku?”

“Almost. Turn around for me,” he grinned up at you and you knew what he wanted. You would be lying if you said you didn’t want it too…

You lifted up your hips, feeling his still softening cock slipped out as you stood and readjusted your position to be facing the camera. Your renowned gentleman husband wasted no time pulling your legs up and open. You saw his smirk in the camera and a feeling went through you.

He rested a hand on your throat as he held you to him. His other hand slid down your body to your sensitive cunt, spreading your pussy open wide with two fingers, making sure the recording got a clear view of your well fucked cunt full to the point of dripping with his seed.

And then the devil of a man that you married moved those two fingers right back into your now cum filled cunt, building up speed at a much faster pace this time.

“You did so well my love, so well. But what kind of director would I be if I went with the first take instead of seeing what else my shining starlet was capable of, hmmm?” Kyojuro grinned and kissed your neck.

“Your shining starlet, huh?” You mimicked, moaning when his fingers hit that special spot inside of you, making your vision go white for a moment. “Oh fuck, Kyo!”

“Yes, my shining starlet, the love of my life, the queen of my heart, the sexiest woman on Earth, my precious little succubus,” he said as his fingers on your throat tightened just a little bit and the hand between your legs began to fuck into your cunt in earnest. He smirked as he once again held your gaze on the recording, “Keep your legs spread nice and wide, my flame, and show me just what this pretty little pussy is capable of.”

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jayscobblehouse · 1 month ago

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Sunflowers and Rainfall (won't undo the damage made by man)

Bruce Wayne x batmom!reader

Wc: 2277, tw: implied/referenced self harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide, murder, shitty Bruce Wayne, Jason Todd crawls out of his grave, Bruce gets hit during an argument

A/n: this was originally written by me and posted onto ao3 as septicclover. Don't use AI on my work.

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The clouds were blocking the sun once again, as happened often in Gotham. The only good thing was that it wasn’t yet raining, though judging from the dark colour, it wouldn’t be a surprise that it would start soon.

You weren’t sure why that was a detail you noticed, not now, not as you were sitting at the grave of your second son. It had been six months, and in those six months things got even worse in ways you didnt think possible. Dick hadn’t come home even once, and maybe he wasn’t in the wrong for that, considering Bruce hadnt told him about Jason’s fate, but it still hurt. Your son, your only living son, seemed to have cut all ties to what had once been his home, and that included you.

Your marriage had been falling apart before Jason’s death, but it had been small things then: jason started rebelling, Bruce was too busy with work to come home or he would spent entire nights on patrol and the both of them came home with graver injuries each time, to the point you started dreading the sound of the batmobile’s engine. Alfred had been your only solace then, sitting beside you in the cave on the worse nights or making sure you had enough food and water in your system to survive as you waited for Bruce to come home.. again. It got to the point you didnt bother staying up anymore, when Jason.. your jay.. when he got home you would take care of his injuries and make sure he ate and drank something before tucking him in and going to bed yourself.

It was 3 am and you had a meeting tomorrow, but the urge to close your eyes wasnt as strong as the need to know your son was okay. You may have let Bruce make him a robin, but that didn’t mean you were entirely okay with it. Seeing him be injured was the hardest thing in the world, even harder than going to bed without your husband. Even if you didnt fully agree with their decisions though, you couldnt deny Jay something when it made him this happy, so instead of forbidding him to go you had made him promise that he would do his best to stay alive and okay.

But now, as it was nearing.. you looked at the clock to see it read just past 3:10, you were seriously reconsidering the whole ‘’not forbidding Jay to go on patrol’’ thing. Not only because you had a meeting tomorrow, but because Jason had school tomorrow and you were pretty sure he had an important assignment coming up.

You were shaken from your musings by the sound of footsteps coming closer and as you listened, you realized that the sound you heard wasnt the sound Alfred’s oxfords made, so you turned towards the sound and waited for Jason to appear. A relieved smile crept onto your face at seeing him in a relatively decent condition. You could spot the blood on the robin mask from over at the computer, but he didnt limp and it didnt look like he was sporting terrible injuries, so that was a positive thing. ‘’Hey honey, how was patrol?’’ you asked, and you listened as he talked about everything that happened as you carefully took off his mask to look for any injuries on his face, but besides a half formed bruise on his jaw and a split lip you didnt see anything. ‘’Relax ma, most of the blood isnt mine’’ he reassured you, and you felt a slight stab in your heart that your son was reassuring you, instead of the other way around. Nevertheless you nodded, kissing his forehead as you stated, ‘’that may be Jay, but I still want to see if you have any other injuries okay?’’

He had nodded, and half an hour and one additional twisted ankle later, you let him lean a little on you as you walked upstairs and to the kitchen. You knew after patrols he could either eat a horse or he wouldnt want anything, so you waited for him to anwser the silent question. He shrugged this time, ‘’some fruit is fine ma, maybe some water too,’’ and then he murmered, ‘’and maybe some candy,’’ so quietly you almost missed it. You raised an eyebrow but you grabbed him some fruit and poured a glass of water, and if you slipped in some of his favourite candies, well, no one would know.

It was 4:00 am and you were pretty sure Jason was sleeping as you quietly closed the book you had been reading from. You moved slowly as you got out of his bed, replacing your own body with a pillow that laid on the sheets. As you stood, a small smile appeared on your face as you just watched your son breathe for a minute. Then, you put the book on the nightstand and grabbed the mess of blankets Jason was resting under, carefully straightening it out and tucking him in. ‘’I’m fourteen ma, don’t need to be tucked in,’’ he murmered sleepily, yet a small smile was visible on his face. You shook your head as you ran a hand through his messy hair, ‘’whether youre fourteen or ninety, Ill always tuck you in if you want me to honey.’’ You kissed the top of his head and made your way to the door, ‘’sleep well my little firecracker,’’ you murmered to the small form on the bed before you moved to close the door. You left it open a crack though, knowing that Jay preferred having an escape route.

You walked away from Jason’s room, preparing yourself for yet another night on your own in your giant bed.

You shook your head as you walked into the bedroom, looking out the window you asked the shadows of the night ’’ what do I have to do for you to come home Bruce?’’

After Jasons death, things truly started deteriorating, and the problems that seemed little at first only became bigger each day. You screamed at him once, a week after he had come home and lifted Jasons lifeless body.. your son’s lifeless body.. from the batmobile.

At the time, you had been shocked, no sound escaping your mouth as you gently moved the cape away so his face and body became visible. Your son had been a mess, a bloody mess with broken bones and burns, and yet under all of that you knew it was him. You dont quite remember the time between seeing your son was dead and the fight with Bruce, but maybe that was a blessing. It was uncommon for you to raise your voice in arguments and fights, but it was even more rare for you to ouright scream at your husband that..

Our son is fucking dead, Bruce! Dead! What do I have to do to make you stay?!’’ you huff out a frustrated breath at seeing your husbands impassive face before continuing, ‘’What about Dick? Its fine if my grief doesnt matter to you, but I swear to god..’’ you started but you noticed the flicker of guilt in his steel blue eyes and you fell silent, horror and fury bubbling up in you as you realized what was happening.

‘’Bruce.. no. ..Bruce Thomas fucking Wayne, tell me you told our son, our only son. Tell me you spoke to Dick and told him what happened,’’ you pleaded him, but he just looked at a point above your head as he started talking, ‘’I was planning to do it tomorrow. There was no reason for him to know yet, there was no set date for a funeral and it hasnt been long..’’

A slap echoed througout the cave.

He looked down at you in shock, only to find nothing but venom in your normally kind hazel eyes, ‘’there was no reason yet? How about the fact his brother died Bruce?,’’ you shook your head in disgust, walking towards the stairs but pausing at the first step. Without looking back at your husband you spat out,’’ you better tell him tomorrow, otherwise you wont just have a dead son, but also an ex-wife.’’

You had walked away after that, and the day after, he told you he spoke to Dick.

So when Dick hadnt come to the funeral you had been shocked, but Bruce had shaken his head and said ‘’later.’’

Turns out, later was much later. Apparently, Dick had been on a mission in space, something you hadnt been aware of. What was worse, you walked in on an argument between the two and you stopped in your tracks as you heard a snippet of Dick’s yell.

‘’..about Jasons funeral?!’’

Bruce had opened his mouth to speak but froze as he spotted you standing in the doorway, coat still on. Dick turned around as well but before he could turn his anger onto you, you looked at him, ‘’what was that about Jasons funeral, Dick?’’

He looked momentarily bewildered but quickly the anger came back, ‘’what about his funeral?! Mom, I didnt even know he was dead! Now I come back and I get told hes dead!? That you buried him already?!’

All the air left your lungs in that moment, but just moments later the shock had been replaced with a white hot fury. You took off your coat calmly and turned towards your son, ‘’Richard, honey, would you be so kind as to leave me and Bruce alone for a minute, I have something to talk to him about.’’

He had seemed like he had wanted to object, but he knew you only called him by his first name when things were serious, so he obliged, though not without kicking a random chair on his way out. Once he was out you had closed the door and screamed at your husband until all you were left with was a bone deep exhaustion.

You had spent the next few days with Dick, sleeping in random bedrooms around the manor to avoid seeing your husband. Not that it made much of a difference, he was barely home as it was.

You had taken him to Jay’s grave, explained what had happened and apologized a thousand times over for not checking with Bruce if he had told him.

When Dick had left, your relationship with Bruce became frigid and cold, and it still was now.

Even now, as you were sitting next to your sons grave, you and Bruce hadn’t made up.

You couldnt blame Dick for not contacting you, not after the shock of last time.

You and Alfred had been trying to keep the household afloat, but with each passing day that got more difficult.

The joker hadnt been spotted either, things got awfully quiet after he had escaped Arkham yet again.

A drop of rain landed on your forehead, slowly making its way down until it dripped from your chin.

You looked at the knife beside you, blood and gore still on it.

At least the joker wouldnt hurt anyone ever again, you just hoped Bruce wouldnt be blamed for it. Even now, with your relationship in shambles and your only living son having cut contact because of him, you still loved him, like a stupid idiot. But you couldnt turn off your emotions like he seemingly could sometimes, even if you knew better, which was probably why the frigidity of your relationship hurt so much.

Your hand crept towards the gun that was laying besides the knife.

Alfred was probably tired. He had spent all of Bruce’s life taking care of him and now, you were only adding to that burden. There were days where you wouldnt come out of bed, days where all you did was accidentally make a mess everywhere. Hell, he had taken care of you when you had needed help bandaging a wound.

You ran your finger down the raised scar on your lower arm and sighed, reaching for the gun.

Maybe it was better this way. You wouldnt be a burden to Alfred anymore and Bruce didnt have to make excuses to stay away from the manor and from you. It would even be better for Dick, at least this way he could focus his anger on you and hopefully patch things up with Bruce.

You raised the gun to your temple and tapped the headstone twice, ‘’I’m coming to join you Jay. I’m so sorry, I promise I tried,’’ a sob escaped you as another raindrop landed on your head, ‘’Your brother hates me, rightfully so. I hit Bruce during an argument and yelled at him and im nothing but a burden to Alfred so..’’

You sighed, ‘’I’m sorry honey, you were always my little firecracker but it seems when you left, my fire left with you. I promise I did my best to stay,’’ you werent sure who you tried to convince at this point but you continued on nevertheless, ‘’I just want you to know, I’ve always been proud of you and I love you.’’

You took a deep breath, ‘’I’ll see you soon, love.’’

A gunshot echoed throughout the graveyard.

It was raining when Jason Todd clawed his way out of his grave.

It was raining when he spotted the body next to his grave and recognized it as his mother.

It was raining when the news came about the death of the joker.

It was drizzling when Jason realized the knife next to his ma was the weapon used.

It was dry when he buried his ma.

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne x batmom #bruce wayne x batmom!reader #dick grayson & reader #jason todd & reader #dick grayson & you #jason todd & you #jason todd crawls out of his grave #not beta read we are dying like the poor birds in The Core #rain as a metaphor of sorts #alfred pennyworth #the joker #bruce wayne and terrible communication #batmom #batmom!reader #batman #dc universe #dcu

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thevoicefromanotherworld · 3 months ago

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"ANSWER THE FUCKING QUESTION, PRINCESS"

I WROTE ANOTHER FIC WITH TANGERINE

(With my idea of enemies to lovers with him lol)

I hope you like it!

WARNING: EXPLICIT SMUT UNDER THE CUT

You and Tangerine were coworkers.

Anonymous people paid you to take care of certain jobs that no one else wanted to do.

So there you were, on the bullet train on your way to Tokyo.

This time, you couldn't travel first class, since your contact didn't pay for those seats, but rather for a cabin you had to share. It's worth mentioning that you didn't get along well.

When they told you he would be your partner, you tried your best, but as the days went by, his dislike for you became increasingly evident, as did yours for him.

The two of you tried not to argue over stupid things for more than three fucking minutes, but it was impossible, since you had little patience and Tangerine kept saying stupid things to get you to argue with him.

When you saw the hovel you had to share, you decided to do what you always did: try not to talk too much to get through the trip as best you could without arguments.

As soon as you got in, you asked for the bed next to the door, complete with its nightstand, so he took the other one, which didn't even have room to charge his phone.

You smiled when you saw him sit up in bed, holding his head in his hands while cursing loudly. "I wish it had been faster," you thought, sitting up in bed.

You were dead tired, but you still wanted to do some writing before going to sleep. You turned on the nightlight and placed your computer on your knees so you could type. After exactly 45 minutes, he turned to you.

"Turn off the fucking light," he complained, frowning. "What the hell are you writing?"

"My will, in case you kill me during the night," you blurted out as you continued typing, partially ignoring him.

"I'm serious, whatever you're writing can wait until tomorrow," he growled, pulling the thin blanket up.

"You're an asshole," you blurted out, tired of his comments.

"Fuck! You're…" he gritted his teeth tightly to keep from saying what he was thinking before speaking again. "Look, we're still hours away from our destination, which means we're going to have to share this place for quite some time, which means you need to be fucking reasonable." he looked at his wristwatch. "It's 1 a.m. Now go to sleep already."

You didn't reply, so he opted to get up and pull the bottle of alcohol he'd taken from the dining car out from under the bed. You raised an eyebrow, making him shrug.

"Don't give me that look," he blurted out. "If you insist on keeping me awake at this hour, I'm going to drink to drown my sorrows." He offered you the bottle. "It's vodka, it's strong," he warned. You frowned even more. "Hey, the guy who hired us forced us to share this shitty booth," he said, pointing out the obvious. "The least we can do is lighten the situation by giving him a little joy." He gestured with the bottle again. "Take it."

That's what you did. You held it in your hands and took a long swig before giving it to him again. He drank too and set it aside, shaking his head as the alcohol ran down his throat with force and settled in his stomach.

"See?" "Nothing happened," he snorted. "I'm sure you feel a little lighter now."

"Maybe," you muttered, not entirely agreeing with him. "You did really well at work the other day," he blurted out, surprising you. "I didn't know you could handle katanas like that. It was impressive."

"Was that a compliment?" you questioned. "Wow, it really hit you fast," you said, nodding at the bottle of alcohol.

"I'm not drunk yet, honey," he whispered. "It takes a lot more than that to knock me out."

"Okay," you laughed, taking another sip, not enough to be drunk, but enough to make me feel pleasantly dizzy. "Why are you being such a jerk to me?" you asked. He knew there was no way he could get out of answering, so he did. "I realize I can be a little… critical at times, but I'm the number one jerk at this," he maintained. "No one can do this better than me."

"You didn't answer the question," you observed. "Why are you so irritable?"

"Maybe because someone didn't turn off the fucking light at a normal hour so I could go to sleep," he snarled, boring into you with his blue gaze. He shook his head, as if he'd realized his tone. "Sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you," he murmured, his head bowed for a moment before taking another sip of vodka. "The alcohol's helping a lot," he observed. "How are you feeling?"

"Fine," you blurted out simply, making him smile.

"I guess we both needed to take the edge off a bit," he murmured. "Especially you, you've been very tense since we got on the train," he chuckled at the look on your face. "Although I guess I can't blame you." You're trapped here with me

You felt an electricity, the overwhelming urge that was pulsing between you like a living organism.

You didn't know if it was because the alcohol had begun to take its toll on you, or because you were feeling brave at that moment, but you took a deep breath before speaking.

"Say what you have to say."

"I have nothing to say."

"You're lying," you smiled. "You're fucking asshole at it, I've told you countless times not to."

"You tilted your head at him. "Spit it out."

He thought about it for a few moments, during which he took another sip from the bottle, before resting his elbows on his knees, so that they brushed against yours.

"Okay," he agreed, his gaze fixed on you intensely. "I find you incredibly, ridiculously, distractingly attractive," he confessed.

Of all the things he could have said, that was the one you least expected. You stared at him as if his skin had suddenly turned green.

"And being locked up here with you alone…" he shook his head. "Well, like I said, the alcohol is helping."

You sat up straighter in bed, trying to find a steady position, but to no avail. You raised your arms to stretch, revealing the shape of your breasts beneath the thin pajama top you were wearing.

Tangerine's gaze couldn't help but drop there, before returning to yours.

"Are you trying to make fun of me?" she whispered. "I don't like jokes, baby," he warned. "We've known each other long enough for you not to know." His body betrayed him, and his gaze dropped again. "Look at you, without a bra…" He pressed his lips together tightly. "You have to stop, princess."

"Why?"

"Because I don't like being made fun of, and if you keep doing that, I'm going to have to do something about it," he decreed, his tone making something deep inside you twitch nervously.

"Oh yeah?" you asked playfully. "Tell me what you'd do," you murmured.

He swore softly, making you smile. His deep, intense blue eyes looked down at you before he nodded toward you.

"Take that off, baby. I want to see you," he growled, watching your every move closely.

He didn't have to ask you twice.

He stared at you when you obeyed, patting the edge of his bed with the palm of his hand.

"Come here," he commanded softly.

His hands rested on your hips, possessive yet gentle. You felt the cold of his rings against your skin as he leaned down to kiss you.

His lips covered yours with need and calm, as if he couldn't wait to devour you but at the same time wanted to do it slowly so you could enjoy every minute of it.

He kissed your collarbone and neck before teasing your breasts before pulling away to look at you.

"Did you like that?" he asked. You nodded, unable to answer, overwhelmed by all the sensations you were experiencing.

But that didn't help.

He placed his hand on your throat, not applying any pressure, simply so you could feel his fingers wrapping around the base of your neck.

"Answer the fucking question, princess," he demanded softly.

"Yes, I liked it," you moaned, causing him to remove his hand from your neck.

"Good girl," he smiled, causing you to sigh against his mouth. "Now stand up and take off your pants," he whispered. "I want to know how you taste."

When you got rid of them, he stepped back for a moment to admire the view, making you feel desired, which you enjoyed more than you were willing to admit.

"Shit," he blurted out. "Now how am I supposed to focus on the other jobs, knowing what you were hiding underneath all that?" “Baby, you’ve been wanting me as much as I’ve been wanting you,” he gave an amused smile. “Maybe you’ve been wanting me more, seeing how quickly you’ve taken off your clothes.”

“Even now, you can’t help being an asshole,” you blurted out, making his smile widen.

“Maybe so, but I’m the asshole who’s going to fuck you, gorgeous,” he growled, making you blush violently.

He pulled you onto his lap and kissed you again.

This time, the kiss was more needy as you felt his fingers wrap around your clit, causing you to gasp against his mouth.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a long time,” he growled as he kissed you, sliding his fingers deeper and deeper inside you.

You bucked your hips against him, and within seconds, you felt your lower belly tense, warning you that your impending orgasm was about to arrive.

-Please Tangerine… - you gasped - please…

-Ask me nicely, baby - he whispered - ask, and I'll give it to you

-Please Tangerine, make me cum, please…

-It's hard to refuse if you ask so politely - he whispered, tugging at your clit between his fingers - but you're going to cum with my cock, like I know you want to - he said - sit down and spread your legs for me - he ordered, he shook his head - more - he said before nodding - that's it baby, such a good girl for me…

He sank into you gently at first, then began to move his hips against you with pure need.

“Do you know how many times I’ve wanted you like this, underneath me?” he growled in your ear. “Do you know?”

“I know,” you gasped, scratching his back with each thrust. “Please, Tangerine…”

“I have you, baby,” he said. “Cum for me.”

That’s what you did, unloading against him hard, just as he did moments later.

“Shit,” he took a deep breath, trying to catch his breath, just like you.

“That was very…” he whispered before giving a knowing smile. “Now I guess we can both sleep at a decent hour,” he said. “For once, don’t argue and come here, please.”

He opened his arms and you snuggled against his firm, solid chest.

-Let me hold you while you rest- he whispered in your ear- work doesn't matter now- he said- now I just want to rest with you, we'll deal with work tomorrow, together- he murmured- after all, we get along very well now

#tangerine smut #aaron taylor johnson #byvoice #my story #writters on tumblr #writterscommunity #tangerine x reader #tangerine bullet train #tangerine x you #atj #enemies to lovers

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propertyofwicked · 1 year ago

Note

heyyy!!!

could i request lando x reader angst with some fluff? where the reader is stressed with exams (exam season just started for me😰) and lando just helps her get through it and comforts her during the sleepless nights.

i absolutely love your work, especially the secrets series!🧡

exam szn is invading my personal space rn too i cannot think about it without wanting to cry hehe. hope this meets ur expectations and sorry it took so long to respond <3

warnings: none, just fluff :)

masterlist

TAKE A BREAK - LN

y/n was always going to be the most beautiful woman that lando had ever seen, even now, as she sat slumped over her laptop, pen tucked into her bun and dark circles under her eyes, highlighted by the dull orange of her desk lamp in an otherwise dark room.

this was not a new situation for lando to find his girlfriend in - he’d seen her at her worst when she had been revising for her final exams years ago, whilst he was busy with his driving career. but this past week, he’d barely spent time with her, besides seeing her setting up her desk before he left in the morning, and eating a rushed dinner before she went straight back to studying. y/n was bound to crash soon, her body and mind overworked and over tired, but her resistance was strong. lando missed his girlfriend. yes, she was physically in the same apartment as him, but mentally she was so far away, completely unreachable to the outside world.

“hey,” he announced, leaning against the door frame. she mumbled a quick hello in response, not even looking away from the glowing screen in front of her.

“y/n?” he tried to get her attention again, still with a mumbled response. he pushed his body from where he was leaning, walking slowly over to rest on the back of her desk chair, his head lowering to press a kiss to the top of her head, “come to bed, angel.”

“i will in a minute,” she said, finally breaking her stare at her computer, leaning back to look at him. he finally got a good look at her face. she was still beautiful, but she was tired. she was pale, her eyes red from the strain and constant fight against exhaustion.

“no baby, you said that last night and crawled into bed 3 hours later.”

“i said i was sorry for waking you up,” she said sadly, her shoulders tensing, the shift to her posture causing her muscles to move for the first time in hours.

“i don’t care about you waking me up, i care about you clearly struggling. you need to take a break, angel,” he said, his tone harsh even when he tried to be as nice as possible.

“im fine, lan, i promise. ill come to bed in 10 minutes.”

“y/n,” he warned, no longer caring about his tone, “when was the last time you showered?” he added, out of genuine concern, however she did not take it in that way.

“what? why? do i smell?” she asked, raising her arm to sniff herself, lando physically restrained himself from laughing. she didn’t smell, but her hair was slightly greasy, purely from the amount of times she ran her hands through her hair out of frustration, or kept her head propped up, using her arm as support.

“y/n,” he says, using her full name, “you are going to shut your computer down, have a shower, and then go to bed. you can keep studying tomorrow but tonight, i want to spend time with my girlfriend before i have to leave the country again.”

she was reluctant to oblige, but she knew she’d been neglecting him in favour of studying. she did this every time she had an important essay due, or upcoming exams - her brain became laser focused to the extent of forgetting to look after herself and those around her, the deadline approaching only adding to the pressure. she closed her laptop, and stood, stretching her legs out in the process, not realising they had gone numb from sitting down for hours.

lando took to standing behind her, hands on her waist as he guided her into their bathroom. as he switched on the light, her eyes squeezed shut and a groan fell from her lips at the shock of the brightness.

“has that light always been so fucking bright?” she groaned, as lando laughed quietly, moving around her to set the shower up.

“that’s what happens when you sit in a dark hole for hours angel. when was the last time you left that room,” he asked, his hand under the water testing the temperature.

“erm, when we had dinner?”

“babe that was 6 hours ago,” he replied with a sigh, checking the time on his watch, “the showers warm enough now. get in. i’ll be in the other room.”

“you’re not showering with me?” she asked sadly. his eyes perked up at the thought of spending intimate time with her.

5 minutes later, they were both stood under the water, his hands massaging shampoo on her scalp. the warm water has loosened her muscles, and the feeling of lando’s hands on her bringing her back to a full sense of reality. she turned to face him, looking in his eyes as the water cleared the shampoo from her hair.

“im sorry,” she told him.

“you don’t need to be, angel. i just wish you’d take better care of yourself. i hate seeing you like this.”

“i know i just..” she said, before taking a deep breath, “i just need to pass this exam and then i’ll be back to normal, i promise.”

“y/n, you are the most intelligent person i know. there is no way you need to destroy yourself for the sake of an exam,” he replied, his hands moving to cup her jaw. she hoped the shower would mask the tears welling in her eyes. she couldn’t tell if the tears were from the kind hearted words or from the sheer stress she’d been bottling up. either way, lando could read her like a book.

he lowered his head, pulling her face closer to his, before pressing a kiss to her forehead and each cheek, and then moving to press a short but sweet his to her lips.

“i just don’t want to mess this up,” she said through tears, “ive worked so hard to get to where i am right now, i can’t afford a set back. i can’t mess this up, and i can’t think about correlation coefficients any longer without wanting to rip my hair out.”

“and you won’t mess it up,” he replies, choosing to ignore the words he doesn’t understand, marvelling at her ignorance to her own intelligence, “taking a break every now and again, looking after yourself, is not going to set you back or destroy your progress. you can’t keep going like this - the stress and the way you overwork yourself is going to set you back further than taking the evening off will, angel.”

“i just need to pas-”

“no, you need to take a step back. give yourself a break.”

“i know, i jus-”

“stop arguing with me or i’ll throw that damn laptop out of the window,” he said, interrupting her and crossing his arms over his chest.

“please don’t, i can’t afford a new one,” she joked, and lando smiled at hearing her laughing for the first time in weeks.

“i’ll buy you a new one,” he replied, pressing another kiss to her lips, “right, turn around i need to do the conditioner now.”

lando didn’t let y/n move another finger all night. he had wrapped her in a towel and sat her down on the toilet lid whilst he brought her in a cup of tea. he helped her climb into her pyjamas, and then sat her down between his legs as he dried her hair. they had crawled into bed afterwards, his arms reaching out to pull her to lay on his chest.

“thank you,” she mumbled against his neck, her eyes already closed out of exhaustion.

“don’t thank me,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss her forehead, “just promise me you’ll start taking care of yourself.”

“i promise,” she said, raising her pinky finger to interlock with his.

“tomorrow, you start taking an hour break for every two hours of work you do. and please, go outside, get some fresh air,” he said, pleading with her.

“half an hour,” she debated with him.

“an hour. end of,” he said, his decision final, “or, that laptop really is going.”

“you would never,” she replied, jokingly gasping at him.

“you wanna bet?”

#lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smut #lando x reader #lando smut #lando norris imagine #lando norris fanfic #formula 1 #mclaren f1 #mclaren #lando norris fluff #propertyofwicked

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thezombieprostitute · 10 months ago

Text

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Warnings: Power imbalance, Yelling. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 1.5 (Lloyd's Perspective)

You'd survived your first week at the job. It was a nerve-wracking to find out you were the only woman working in the IT department outside of Mr. Pine's assistant. Thankfully the majority of your coworkers were friendly without being inappropriate or condescending. So far you were able to just sit at your desk and do you work.

There's a knock on your cubicle wall and you look up to see Johnny standing there.

“Hey, I need you to take a ticket for me,” he tells you. “I'd do it but I just got pinged by the security measures and that takes priority. Ticket is Hansen-4142. Thanks so much!” Before you can argue he's gone.

Shaking your head you check the ticket. Johnny's not wrong that security takes highest priority and it's not unheard of for technicians to trade tickets. Looking through things it's pretty straightforward. This Hansen person likely tried to update some of the office software and the update messed with their current settings. You get his office number, double check the building floor-plans so you don't get lost, and head up.

Getting off the elevator at his floor the atmosphere is incredibly tense. People are keeping their heads down and trying to make themselves as small as possible. As you get closer to Mr. Hansen's office, you start to understand why. His voice carries and he's clearly very, very angry.

By the time you're right outside his office you're visibly shaking. Part of you wants to run back to the safety of your cubicle and beg one of the bosses to choose someone else. But that wouldn't be professional. It's only your first week, you need to do this and prove yourself to be a good hire. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you knock on the door.

“Get in here!” Mr. Hansen barks.

You open the door, “hello, Mr. Hansen. I'm, um, I'm from IT to fix your computer?”

“Yeah, I figured that,” he bites back. “No one else would be dumb enough to knock on the damn door.”

You nod at his reasoning, “may, I...may I see your computer, Sir?”

He chortles, “It's about damn time the IT department hired someone who knows their place.”

He moves away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. Not wanting to be here any longer than you need, you immediately set about to working. No chit-chat, nothing to give him a reason to yell again. You find yourself getting into the zone, hunting down the needed files, ignoring everything extraneous, and making the changes that are needed.

You think you got everything so you get out of the chair, “please make sure everything is working correctly, Mr. Hansen?”

He gives you a skeptical look as he sits, “that was way too fast to have worked.” You lower your chin to your chest but don't protest. You hear him typing and clicking away for a minute or so. “Huh,” you hear from him. “You're a friggin' maestro.” His tone is more contemplative than anything.

“Do you need anything else, Sir?”

He looks up and seems surprised you're still there. “No. You may go back to the IT caverns.”

Not needing to be told twice you nod and head out. When you're back in the department you see Mr. Syverson and he calls you over.

“Where ya been? Was wantin' to ask you about some of the upcoming projects we got ya assigned to.”

“Oh, Johnny asked me to handle a ticket for him because a security issue came up.”

He freezes at that. “Was it with Hansen?”

“Um, yes, Sir.” You see his face turn red and you're worried you did something wrong.

He takes a breath, “you're not in trouble. You're gonna go finish out that ticket like you're supposed to and I'll talk to you about the projects tomorrow.” You nod and almost run to your cubicle. Behind you, Syverson yells, “Storm! My office! NOW!”

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly

#tech tuesday #tech tuesday: lloyd hansen #lloyd hansen x female!reader #lloyd hansen x reader

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melobin · 1 year ago

Text

behind the screen 𐙚 sungchan smau #33

✧ camgirl reader x roommate sungchan

✧ synopsis. in which sungchan discovers his favorite camgirl also happens to be his roommate

✧ wc.

✧ warnings. half written, half smau. no warnings

behind the screen masterlist

“what exactly are you doing her-“ sungchan almost ran past chaewon’s desk as he entered the office building.

“i’ll explain everything to y/n later, i promise” the girl was left bewildered as sungchan completely brushed off her question, ignoring her and speed walking toward the elevator. she watched in curiosity as he spam pressed the button in order to call the lift and stood there impatiently as he waited for it to arrive.

chaewon simply turned back to her computer, informing her boss of the boy’s arrival before looking at her phone. for a few moments she debated on whether she should pick it up and message you, letting you know that sungchan was there but she opted out of it. if he had an explanation then she was sure it would be better for him to talk to you himself.

sungchan’s ride in the elevator had him stressed out. he stood staring at his reflection in the mirrored doors, he tried to make himself seem as calm as possible but it wasn’t possible. he prayed he wouldn’t have bump into anyone else before getting to the office but it seemed as if everyone was working overtime tonight.

“why am i not surprised you’re here” sungchan found wonbin only a few steps away from his destination “and to see the boss too? taking over so soon?”

“look wonbin i’ll explain everything to y/n later, i promise” within seconds he was past the boy and knocking on the door of the office, taking a deep breath before opening it and shutting it behind him.

“sungchan! take a seat” jaemin motioned for him to sit on the chair on the opposite side of his desk, he smiled at the boy as he sat.

“thank you for seeing me so soon”

“no need to thank me, you’re like family” he picked up the glass in front of him before speaking again “i’m happy to hear you’re back with my somi too”

“that’s actually what i wanted to talk to you about, sir, i’m not sure what your daughter has told you but we’re not together” jaemin narrowed his eyes at the boy, placing his glass down as he straightened his back “nor am i willing to partake in taking over the company”

“right, that was something i wanted to discuss with you. it is something i’ve thought of and discussed with my children and other affiliates before but i had never mentioned it to you, i’m sure head a surprise to here”

“a little”

“i never wanted such a matter to become so public without having discussed it with you first, i never would have released that type of information without having a definite answer to whether you wanted to or not and frankly, it seems whoever has done this is attempting to make a mockery of our company name and i will not be standing for it”

“i appreciate that a lot” sungchan sighed as he leaned back in his chair

“something else bothering you?”

“everything that’s happened, and the article, has caused a lot of stress between me and a girl i really like” sungchan felt as if he was having a war in his mind, the idea of telling your boss and somi’s father about what happened was plaguing him and he wasn’t sure what would happen if he did mention it. “i’m worried about the true impact that it had”

“i can assure you sungchan, i will find out who leaked this information and i will be dealing with them. i promise you whoever it will have a very strong defamation case against them” there was hesitance in sungchan’s mind, if somi was the one to make these claims then he couldn’t imagine that her father would act against her “i’ll contact business insider and discuss it all with mr lee tomorrow” sungchan smiled weakly at the older man, bowing his head in respect before standing up.

“i appreciate this a lot sir” sungchan stood up, slowly making his au to the door to exit before he paused. his hand rested gently on the handle before he turned around again.

“is something wrong?”

“sir your daughter is trying to blackmail me” sungchan watched the older man’s eyes widen as he spoke, he stood up before motioning for sungchan to take a seat again, sungchan stayed by the door “i can imagine that soon she’ll be revealing some things about y/n that may make you see her in a different light, but i just ask that you give her the benefit of the doubt with this. i can promise you from the bottom of my heart here that y/n is not the villain that somi is trying to paint her out to be” he took a deep breath before leaving the room, not waiting to hear what jaemin had to say in response.

sungchan had one more thing to do, see you. by the time he reached the reception desk downstairs chaewon had gone, the sky had darkened and the moon was shining through the windows. looking at the time he knew your stream would have ended by now and he could only pray you were still awake. he knew he could tell you in the morning but it felt urgent, sungchan was in a rush to tell you before the anyone else could. before she could.

reaching home felt terrifying for sungchan, he could only pray that you were awake by the time he opened the door. you were. he could see the subtle glow from the tv shine in the living room, he sucked in a deep breath as he saw you sat on the sofa, phone in hand, oblivious to the world around you. you were only alerted of his presence when he walked a little further into the room.

“hi”

“hi” he gave you a small smile as he sat down next to you, there was a noticeable gap between the two of you.

“how are yo-“

“i’m sorry” sungchan interrupted you, taking his time to let out a deep breath and wipe the sweat off of his hands onto his trousers. you didn’t say anything back to him, simply laying your phone on the arm of the chair and leaning back to listen to him talk. “a lot happened in the space of a week and i don’t even know where to begin i just want you to know i’m sorry”

“start from the beginning”

“somi came to me on day last week, she was distressed about something and she said it was because she found something out about you and she was worried about me because of it” sungchan watched as anxiety took over your face, your eyes widened and your lips parted but you didn’t say a thing. he instantly felt guilty that he never told you right away “someone showed her your cam account”

“oh”

“i should’ve told you right away but she started talking about telling people an-“

“and that i was just using you for my own benefit and i would’ve dropped you when i was done? like you said?” sungchan felt a slight pang in his heart when you spoke, a bad taste resting on his tongue as he thought back to what was said.

“yeah” you frowned a little, remembering the conversation the two of you had in the bathroom “i really am sorry for even thinking about doubting you, i know you’d never do anything like that but in the moment i just panicked i guess” you nodded and let him continue, not feeling the urge to comment yet “she told me that she had enough on you to tell everyone and expose you for what you’ve been doing and in the moment i thought the best thing would be the do what she asks instead of letting her hurt you again so i cancelled on you that night because she told me i had to go to her dad’s event with her and i felt so fucking had the whole time and when i saw you there all i felt was guilt” you didn’t say anything for a while, instead you let his words sit for a while.

sungchan was taken by surprise when you wrapped your arms around him, your head burying itself in the crook of his neck as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply. he was quick to wrap his arms around your waist, letting you snuggle into him as whilst he pressed his nose against your hair. despite the severity of the situation, he let himself relax in the moment, breathing in deeply and letting the smell of you take over his senses. “i should have told you”

“i get why you didn’t” you pulled back, eyes glazed over with tears as you looked at him “what about the article though?”

“i had no fucking idea about that i swear, i went and said mr jeon before i came here to clarify i had no idea about any of it, that i wasn’t dating somi and that i have nothing to do with the company”

“does he know who said it all?”

“no but he’s going to find out” he sucked in a breath and looked at you, breathing out deeply “when somi finds out about me doing this she’s probably going to do something drastic you know that right” you nodded, shrugging your shoulders as your fingers tangled through the bottom of his hair.

“i’ll get through it, if i get fired i’ll live. i make more than enough from streaming” sungchan laughed a little at your reception, surprised you were so calm.

“you don’t care?”

“i care but i had a feeling it would happen one day, i can take it sungchan. i really appreciate you trying to protect me but i’m okay” he smiled at you before he placed his fingers under your chin. opting to ignoring the chiming of his phone as he leaned in and kissed you softl.

behind the screen tag list

tag list. @midmourn n @svnghan @strayhowls s @minnieslover @shortnstupid @palchokitty @ilovechanhee @hikict @wccycc @revehosh @teddywook @hoonieq @glaieuls @kvstjwonnie @starrypen n @thinkabt-vivi @kyusqult @nanascupid @professsionalsimp p @beomgri @xenkimmie @dinosluver @jaehmarks s @hellonikitty @wolfiecaro @snoopyana @rosesfortaro @zhangyixingxing1 @hrts4tyun @forrds @mamathefifth @wonbinkisser @alwayswook @boogyu @haohoonz @wheatrice e @cvpidxo @soobsfairy444 @nadrs @wonbinfiles @tsumusakusa @chichiuu @bbgmingyu @outrologist @lilriswife4life @https-yeonjun @emoseob @riizenextdoor @h3lluh @shiannprincess101 @ioveslgn @iselltulips @w0nslvr @vernonburger @boopdidoo @planethyuka @joshuawifey @dearmyouth @bludzk1llzyuzu @andb1ue @reenfluffmarshmallow @jnkthy @luh @au-ghosttype

#✧ melody posts #✧ behind the screen #riize smau #sungchan smau #riize smut #sungchan smut #riize sungchan smut #riize sungchan smau

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exhaslo · 1 year ago

Text

Corruption Ch14

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship?

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Thirty Days until D-Day

The city was welcomed with a heavy rain storm that had no end in sight. Umbrellas were no match against the fierce winds and downpour that befell the city. The poor citizens who dared to walk got drenched. It was the beginning of an already dreadful day to many.

Aaron groaned and cussed as he scurried into Alchemax, water dripping from every angle. He sighed in relief as a few of the staff members set up automatic heaters and dryers for the employees. Sometimes there were perks for working for Alchemax.

The company cared more about reputation.

Once he was dry, Aaron made sure to clock in. There, he waited for certain people. Once said people arrived, they all casually walked with each other to the elevator. As they all stood in the elevator, each person handed something small to Aaron.

"Thank you all." He whispered upon leaving with another worker.

"This is risky. Do you even know how to do it?" His coworker asked. Aaron frowned as he spotted you grabbing a file from his boss,

"I'll need to work out the details, but I have an idea." He said before smiling towards you, "(Y/N)! How have you been? Feels like forever,"

"Ah, Aaron, yes it has! Have you been busy?" You asked. Aaron couldn't stop smiling,

"You could say so. A lot of newbies trying to play games on computers has us getting rid of viruses." He said with a chuckle and glanced at the file, "What about you?"

"End of month is tomorrow. Just grabbing all of the paperwork from each department so I can file them all. So...exciting." You said with a soft sigh, "Ah! Speaking of time, I have to grab Miguel's coffee!"

"Be careful, it's pouring outside."

Aaron waved towards you as you ran off in a hurry. You were still ever so kind despite Miguel's interference.

"Still going for the boss' girl? Everyone knows that Miguel probably uses her as a stress relief." Aaron's coworker scoffed, "Ain't no way he would let anyone get that close."

"C'mon. She's his assistant. Miguel's too cold hearted to-"

"Use (Y/N)? How many times did he butt in to your flirting? To you trying to ask her out?"

"Shut up, let's just get back to work. Miguel will have what's coming to him eventually."

---------

You were shivering as you cuddled against Miguel's chest. You were in your underwear, wrapping in a thick blanket as you sat on Miguel's lap in his office. Your clothes were drying in the corner, since Miguel demanded you come up to him in a hurry.

"I told you the coffee could wait," Miguel grumbled as you sneezed.

"Y-You're grumpy...w-without it,"

"At the cost of you getting sick? It can wait. I can always send someone else to get it." Miguel said with a scoff, his arm tightening around your waist, "And you didn't even dry off downstairs."

"Y-You told me to hurry! So I climbed the window," You said with a whine, "Can't...Can't I just wear my spare clothes? This is...embarrassing."

"I've seen you naked already." Miguel said unamused then glanced towards you, "Or did the oh so powerful Spider-Woman want to get sick? To have me care for her?"

"N-No," You said with a pout.

Miguel was so mean when he wanted to be. Watching him chuckle made your heart melt. He can be as mean as he wants, just as long as you get to see him enjoy himself. Cuddling back into his chest, you inhaled, enjoying his cologne.

---------

Miguel waited for you to fall asleep before pulling up his security footage of one of the labs. Miguel had a small team of scientists handling your blood injections towards test subjects. As much as Miguel wished to be there in person, he needed to keep distracting you from the city.

Besides, none of those scientists knew what they were giving to the new test subjects. None of them would live to even tell the tale of Miguel's success.

"Sir, now conducting test subject number eight." One of the scientists spoke to the camera.

Eight.

It took eight attempts so far. There was always something wrong with something. Miguel was getting frustrated, but he had to keep going. This was the only way he could get what he wanted. This was the only way to get his dream.

"Mhpm," You whimpered in your sleep.

Pulling up his calendar, Miguel checked on your ovulation. With a roll of his eyes, Miguel noticed that you were about to start your period. It was right about now that your cramps would start to kick in. As frustrating as it was, this was needed.

By your next ovulation, Miguel will be perfect.

He will finally be able to give you what you've been waiting for.

What he's been waiting for.

But, in the meantime, Miguel had work to do. Ordering some heat pads and chocolate, Miguel made sure to take care of you during your period. You were his perfect trophy. Miguel couldn't have you down in the dumps.

----------

Twenty Days Until D-Day

Yet again, the rain did not let up. According to the forecast, it was to rain like this for the rest of the week. You were debating on swinging to work, but with this rain...no. You didn't want to end up sick. Miguel would never let you go out again.

"Hm, I need to get to work." You whispered, looking at the time.

Rubbing your arms, you let out a whine as you tried to think. Normally, Miguel would give you a ride, but today he had to arrive to work earlier than normal. Apparently his father had some meetings he wanted Miguel to go too.

"Would Miguel mind if I stay home?"

"He would," Lyla appeared, "Miguel is already showing signs of extreme stress and frustration. Without you, I can conclude that by noon, he might kill someone."

"Oh, Lyla, you jest." You chuckled lowly before stopping, "Miguel won't kill anyone."

But you knew how Miguel got when he was angry. Miguel was never too fond of his own father, especially when dragged to these meetings. Honestly, it was cute. Miguel was like a spoiled child, not wanting to do work.

Leaving your apartment, you sighed as you still wondered how you were going to get to work without getting soaked. It was still Fall in Nueva York, but it felt like winter already to you. Oh, the downside of having Spider DNA.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Need a ride?" Aaron asked, stopping his cab. You gasped, hurrying over,

"Oh! Thank you, Aaron, you're a life savor!"

"Sure," Aaron smiled as he opened the door for you. You shivered slightly when entering, thanking him again, "It's really no problem. Luck even, guess I just happen to pass your place at the right time."

"You sure did."

You hummed happily as you texted Miguel, asking if he wanted his morning coffee. As you were waiting for his reply, you glanced over at Aaron,

"So, it's been...raining a lot. Might be a colder winter than normal."

"So we have to make sure your office is a furnace." He said with a chuckle, "Getting coffee for our dictator today?"

"Ah-" You felt your cheeks flush as you just checked your phone, "Guess not. He won't let me get it when it rains like this. Hehe, Miguel does have his little soft side," You chirped.

Aaron felt his eye twitch, "It's amazing how you can still see the best in him."

"It could be because I'm his assistant?" You tried to dodge the question since no one knew about your relationship with Miguel, "Um, I think everyone just needs to give Miguel a chance. I'm sure-"

"I rather not. If he makes me his errand boy anymore, I might quit." Aaron huffed then glanced at you, "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt or be sour. We've....just been up to our necks with work."

"It's okay,"

You lowered your head, remaining silent for the rest of the ride. It was hard to express your vision of Miguel to others. Once you arrived, you thanked Aaron again for the lift and hurried inside.

--------

Aaron paid the fair and slowly made his way inside. He watched you from a distance, paying attention to your watch as Lyla appeared. Miguel was always listening to you. He always paid attention to who you were with.

A controlling bastard.

Aaron just smiled as he went to clock in, hoping that Miguel will play the petty game. The only problem about this game Aaron was playing was you getting caught in the fire. Aaron was going to have to make sure you were nowhere near Miguel when he acts.

--------

You stood in front of Miguel's large office window, staring down at the city below. Miguel was still in his meetings, sending you a text here and there about stupid little things. It made you chuckle at some of the nitpicking he was doing.

"Hehe, ew. Miguel must really be bored if he is paying attention to the food stuck in someone's teeth," You giggle.

Glancing at his seat, you bit your lower lip. Miguel was going to be a while until he returned. Stroking your fingers against the arm rest, you let out a soft sigh as you took your seat on his desk. Miguel will be waiting for you.

You had to be a good girl and take your spot.

"Don't keep me waiting too long, Miggy~"

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara smut #atsv miguel #across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel x you #miguel spiderverse #miguel x y/n #miguel x reader

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tumblingxelian · 4 months ago

Text

What the Hell? A Collusion AU

Lila, bedecked in a cleaning lady disguise in her own apartment was caught somewhere between giddy satisfaction and paranoid dread as she skimmed the results of her latest play.

Things had gone well, better than she thought possible really, when Ladybug & Chat Noir decided to help an Akuma toss the mayor out of office. Ordering Chloe to burst in with the press and make them look bad had been an inspired adaptation on her part. Really she'd never expected things to go that well.

Then it went side-ways and Ladybug caved Chloe's head in with her yoyo, a simple "That's enough" and suddenly the blonde bimbos supposedly empty head was splattered across everyone's TV screen before those stupid Tsurugi robots could do anything.

& yes, Tsurugi stocks were falling, but not as fast as Ladybug's reputation in the polls!

Lila should be ecstatic, but the reality Ladybug might turn that same violence on her was now a real and genuine concern and for all that Chloe was an vacuous and obnoxious tool, Lila couldn't deny seeing her skull split open, her blood flow and her brain splatter across the floor hadn't horrified her.

But Lila was a practical girl and once Chloe was revived she calmed right down and tried to regain control of the situation. Save that Chloe had evidently dropped the ear peace Lila provided her and instead did the following incomprehensible things.

Said, "I just got my skull caved in by a super hero. How do you think I feel!?"

Rattled off the passwords to her fathers computer.

Then she ran away.

& evidently, for all Chloe lacked in swift mental faculties she evidently made up for it in running because the press lost her almost instantly.

Still, Lila could work with this, she was adaptable after all and had decided to share that recording of Andre disowning Chloe for her half sister alongside a funding campaign.

Now if she could just find Chloe she'd have her little cash cow back in its barn and could move on to trying to figure out Gabriel and Ladybug's next move, if all went well she could swoop in and-

There was a thumping on her door, followed by a trill, "Let me in Lila, I have had a day."

"Chloe!" Lila cheered, leaping from her seat and throwing open the door she began fussing, "Oh my dear, exceptional, wonderfully brave friend, I saw what that monster did to you! I've been trying to reach you and find you but I knew if you would go to anyone it would be your closest friend so I stayed here, waiting, hoping you'd come back!"

She pulled Chloe into the apartment and her embrace which the blonde slowly returned without any of her usual energy or clumsy attempts at haughtiness.

Burying her face into Lila's neck Chloe murmured, "It's nice that someone... Cares..."

"Of course I care, Chloe. Even if the world turns against you I'm here for you and I always will be." The fact Chloe's online following went from a respectable seventy two thousand to several million with donors to match certainly helped.

"That campaign, that was you right? I don't recall us sharing bank details."

Lila was used to having to swiftly reorient her deceptions but Chloe usually required so little effort to manage she took a moment and maybe said too much.

"I did, after the horrible things your father said I thought you deserved some resources all your own. I know you have your mother-"

"No I don't, she won't remember my name by tomorrow," Chloe's hug grew firmer, tighter.

"I need that money Lila, transfer it to my account."

Squirming, she answered, "I thought I could manage it for you, it'd be so heavy for you- uh, Chloe, I know you had a hard- day, ah- tight!"

Chloe's hug was like a viper constricting her upper arms to her chest and Lila could barely breath as the girl whispered.

"I need that money, you'll send it to my account. Won't you, friend?"

Panicking and unable to get away Lila accented, "Of course, my dear friend!" A few haphazard presses on her Alliance ring and a projected image showing her changing the fundraiser details to Chloe's account filled the otherwise dark room.

Chloe's hold slowly loosened and she pulled back enough to kiss Lila on the cheek, once, twice and then pulling away she looked her over with...

Lila couldn't quite describe it. She was used to Chloe having a sort of lazy, twitchiness about her, like one might expect of a drugged up horse.

But this new expression was somehow both strangely misty and yet all too focused for the Chloe she knew.

Pulling away Chloe nodded to herself and said, "I need to make some calls and then I'm heading to bed, I will be staying here until I sort out a new living situation." With that declared like it was a fact and not utterly confusing the blonde made her way to Lila's bedroom.

"I, of course you can stay over Chloe, but I only have one bed."

Chloe held the door and looked at her, "Haven't you ever read fanfiction?"

'Since when can you read?' A part of her wanted to ask, but out loud she answered honestly for once, "Not really?"

The door slammed shut, Chloe's voice echoing, "That was the sound of you missing your shot!"

Lila stood in dull confusion as she tried to parse what just happened and ultimately could say only one thing.

"What the hell?"

#Fanfic #Oneshot #MLB #miraculous ladybug #chloe bourgeois #lila rossi #Text post #Chloe just got her magic corrupted brain rebooted & no longer needs to be coached on how to pronounce democracy #She also came back to full awareness with her life in utter ashes after being murdered & can't even get some toxic yuri comfort #SMH & FML define her mood right now

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paladin--strait · 10 months ago

Note

congrats on 100 followers!!!!!!!!

can i request prompt no. 1 with quinn hughes?

my bedroom is cold despite my sweating body. i'm covered in a blanket, which is exactly what my mom told me not to do if i had a fever when i would get sick as a child.

theres vicks vapo rub on my upper lip right beneath my nose and there's some on my chest too. i hope it'll open up my sinuses but i think i've used it so much these past few days that my nose is now immune to the strong smell of it.

i have a random tv show running on the television and soft ambient music playing in the background. thankfully, i can get my work done from home so i won't be losing any money. this packet of paperwork is taking hours and hours and it feels like it's never going to end.

i groan and throw my head back when i realize i have one more page left. but i gasp in shock when i hear my bedroom door creak open. i look behind me and i see quinn looking at me with a sad smile. "hey baby. i called your name a couple times but i guess you didn't hear me. how are you feeling?" he takes a couple steps forwards and sits beside me on the bed.

"quinn! i'm sick. you shouldn't get near me!" i say, the congestion making my voice sound all funny and nasally. "you have to play tomorrow. what are you doing here anyway?"

"baby, i don't care how sick you are. i'm gonna be here to check on you and take care of you." he tells me with soft and reassuring smile before he puts the back of his hand up to my forehead. "oh my god, you're burning up! you need to get out from under the covers." he grabs at my blanket, slowly pulling it away.

i grab at it quickly. "no! i'm cold!" i put the blanket back on and wrap myself in it. "please don't take my blanket..." i look at him with a soft look, my cheeks flushed red from my fever.

"fine. but please just promise me that you'll go without it later? i have to leave to go to practice later today. i wanna see it off of you when i come back home tonight." he says sternly. i know he means well, but i'm just so cold.

"okay...you sound like my mom right now. she used to tell me the same thing." i say, unwrapping just enough to reach over and shut off my computer after saving my work so far.

"so she's told you the same thing and you still didn't listen?" he says, looking at me with those eyes that make me agree that he's right every time he looks at me with them. "and you're working? i thought you called out? you need to stop and get some rest, my love." he stands, walking over the the other side of the bed and grabbing my laptop before he puts it on my dresser on the opposite side of the bedroom.

i groan out, my shoulders slumping. "but i can't just not do my work, i told them i would!"

"honey, you know i love you, but you look like death right now. i'm sure they'll understand if you don't get it all done." he says, putting his hands on his hips. "when you feel better, i try and help you finish it up. you tell me what to write and i'll type away. hold on, let me go get this medicine for you." he walks out of the bedroom and presumably to the kitchen.

i sit up in bed more when i see him walk in with one of those little measuring cups full of blue liquid and glass of water. "take this, it'll make you feel better."

i whimper and turn my head away from him. i know what that medicine tastes like and i think i'm gonna throw up if it even gets near me. "baby, i love you but don't make me shove this down your throat." i roll my eyes and look back at him. i know he would actually do it, so i hold out my hand to grab the little cup before i pour it into my mouth and swallow it quickly, trying to get rid of the disgusting taste as fast as possible with the cold water.

i cough when i pull the glass of water away from my lips. "there you go...see? that wasn't so bad!" quinn smiles at me as he speaks.

"you're not the one who had to drink it." i fire back, looking at him with slotted eyes.

he gives me a suprised look at my words, grabbing the cup from my hand and taking it into the kitchen to wash it out. i hear the beep of the microwave before he come back into the bedroom. he has a red and white bowl in his hands, the bottom covered with a blue potholder. "you need to eat. it'll help settle your stomach. you told me your stomach was hurting this morning when i called, so i figured you hadn't been eating properly. it's chicken noodle from chick-fil-a, the one you love so much? please eat it."

i smile at him and thank him for the food when he sets it on my lap. i grab the plastic spoon, filling it with soup and bringing it up to my mouth, eating it slowly. "thank you, quinny. can you get me some crackers?"

"babe, i don't think that's the best idea. it won't be good for your throat." he explains, sitting beside me.

"i want to put it in the soup and let the crackers get soggy. that's how i like it..." i say, looking at him softly. quinn hums in understanding and runs to the kitchen to get the crackers, coming back and breaking them up into my soup. "thank you!" i say happily, the congestion still evident in my voice.

quinn sits beside me while i eat, putting on our tv show that we started watching together. he turns off the ambient music and turns the fan on, putting it on the lowest setting. after i finish eating, i snuggle up to quinn, "i'm sorry if i get you sick..." he shakes his head and gives me a kiss on the forehead.

"it's alright honey, i don't care." he smiles and holds me closer to him. "just as long as my baby is okay."

#nhl #hockey #new jersey devils #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #qh43 #paladin's fics!

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ralvezfanatic · 1 year ago

Note

Hi, I see you requests are open 😺 I love your work ♥️♥️ Can I request a write-up about Spencer Reid? where Reader has a online work that keeps him up late and Spencer worries that the reader is not sleeping and wants to take him to sleep, especially that Spencer can't sleep without Reader. I hope it was understood, sorry. English is not my first language.

Thank you, I really love how you write!! Take your time ✨

Sleepy

Spencer Reid x Male!Reader

Reader likes to stay up late to finish his work, leaving Spencer alone in bed. Unfortunately Spencer can't sleep without his boyfriend.

Warnings: Fluff. Clingy Spencer, sorta workaholic/insomniac Reader. Soft kissing at the end, nth sexual.

Note: tysm for the request anon !! this was really nice to write, and no worries, i understood this perfectly :))

Word Count: 1.1k

You worked from home, meaning you were practically your own boss. You managed your own time and worked whatever hours you wanted. It didn't matter as long as you finished by the deadline, or earlier which was always better because you'd have more free time.

That's what you've been doing recently. Staying up late in your office trying to finish your latest project early so you'd have more time with Spencer in the day. You'd never know when he'd be called on a case so you figured spending most of the day and evening with him was better.

You had already been in bed, trying to sleep as Spencer cuddled up to you. His long limbs wrapped around you, keeping you close to him for warmth and comfort. Although he wore a long sleeved shirt and pajama pants, he was somehow cold, which meant he stayed glued to you.

You held him close to you, playing with his curls as he slept soundly. His face was relaxed and he looked so peaceful. You moved some of his hair off his face and placed a soft kiss on his nose before gently freeing yourself from his embrace.

Of course you wanted to be with him, but you weren't tired.. and you think you just came up with a solution for that little bug in your project. You pulled the blanket that Spencer had somehow thrown off himself and covered him up so he'd be warm. You took a hoodie from the desk chair in the room, and quickly threw it on, not really wanting to be shirtless as you worked.

Silently, you made your way to your office and thanked your forgetful self for leaving the door open, knowing that it creaked too much when opened.

You, of course, left the door open when you entered, not wanting to make too much noise so you wouldn't wake up your boyfriend, wanting him to rest as much as possible. He probably didn't sleep enough while he was away on the case, so you wanted to make sure he stayed asleep all night.

You sat down at your desk, waking up your computer and opening up your project, quickly getting to work. You thought you could maybe finish up this project if you stayed up most of the night. Surely Spencer wouldn't mind, he was deep asleep.

As the computer finally opened up your project, you started working on it, trying out the solution that came to your mind moments ago.

Unfortunately, Spencer did mind you leaving him in the middle of the night. He woke up moments after you left him, frowning at the empty spot next to him. He rubbed his eyes, looking out the room for a sign of you, trying to listen for a toilet flushing, hoping you just needed the bathroom.

Spencer stayed in bed a few minutes, but finally got up when he didn't hear anything. He yawned and got up, putting on his slippers and heading to your office, upset that you were up working again.

“Y/N, come to bed.” Spencer whined as he approached you from behind. “It's late, you can work on that tomorrow.” He frowned, leaning down and wrapping his arms around you, hiding his face into the crook of your neck, hiding his yawn.

“Baby? I thought you were sleeping?” You ask softly, looking up at him confused and grabbing his hands on your chest. “I was! Until you left me..” He muttered into your neck. “Y/N, you need sleep, these habits aren't healthy.” He stood up, stretching up as you spun your chair to face him.

“I don't want to hear about unhealthy sleeping habits from you,” You responded, raising an eyebrow at him. “Dr. Staying up all night to look for the case for something you must have missed”

Spencer frowned at you, but stayed silent knowing you were right. He shook his head and took your hands, pulling you up from your chair. “That’s only during cases. You do it all the time.” He sighed, pulling you into a hug. “Come to bed.” He asked, his voice soft as he held you.

“But-”

“I can't sleep without you.” He whined, interrupting any excuse you were about to give. “Please?” He hid his face away into your shoulder, begging you to go to bed.

“Okay.” You nod, feeling bad for not only waking him, but worrying him about your health.

“Really?” Spencer pulled away from your neck and looked at you with a small smile.

“Of course sweetheart.” You nod, smiling back at him. “And I'm sorry to have woken you up..” You apologize, cupping his cheek and pressing a small kiss onto his nose.

“Just don't do it again.” He chuckled, scrunching his nose at your kiss.”C'mon, lets go to bed, I'm getting cold already.” He took hold of your hand, leading you out of the office.

“Hey! My computer is still on!” You laugh, letting him lead you away, knowing it's not that big of a deal.

“Don't care!! I'm cold and sleepy!” He replied as you closed your office door after exiting.

You shook your head and headed to your bedroom with Spencer, grateful for having such a caring boyfriend.

He climbed into bed quickly, lifting the blanket as he waited for you. You pull off your hoodie and throw it back to the chair it was on earlier and slip into bed next to your boyfriend, who looks at you oddly.

“How are you never cold?” His eyebrows furrow, dropping the blanket over the both of you, quickly snuggling up to you.

You shrug, pulling him close into a hug and petting his hair. “I don’t know.. but it could be because I'm just super hot.” You reply with a smirk, which makes Spencer laugh.

“Mm, yeah probably.” He agrees, looking up at you with a smile. He stretches his neck up to your face and gives you a kiss, which you quickly accept. You both shift slightly on the bed in order to be in a more comfortable position to kiss each other.

You grab Spencer's jaw and hold him gently, the both of you just kissing each other lazily. The kiss was soft, gentle and full of love. It was quick, neither of you wanting to take it any further.

“Mm, love you Y/N” Spencer pulls away, a faint blush on his cheeks that were just barely visible with the moonlight that shone through the windows.

You smile at him, pressing another kiss onto his forehead before responding. “Love you too Spence.”

#spencer reid x male reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #bau x male reader #criminal minds x male reader #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #fluff #x male reader #male reader

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scary-grace · 11 months ago

Text

the new postmodern age (chapter two) - a Shigaraki x f!Reader fic

Written for @threadbaresweater's follower milestone event, and the prompt 'a day at the beach'! Congratulations on the milestone, and thanks for giving me a chance to write this fic.

dividers by @enchanthings

Before the war, you were nothing but a common criminal, but in the world that's arisen from the ashes, you got a second chance. Five years after the final battle between the heroes and the League of Villains, you run a coffee shop in a quiet seaside town, and you're devoted to keeping your customers happy. Even customers like Shimura Tenko, who needs a second chance even more than you did -- and who's harboring a secret that could upend everything you've tried to build. Will you let the past drag both of you down? Or will you find a way, against all odds, to a new beginning? (cross-posted to Ao3)

Chapters: 1 2 3

Chapter 2

One of the dubious perks of living in a coastal town is fairly mild weather in the spring, but every so often it kicks up with a vengeance. The windows in your apartment are rattling with the wind and rain, and you keep getting power outage alerts on your phone. Your power is still on, along with about half the town’s, and the café has backup generators if anything goes wrong. But tomorrow’s the one day a week that the café is closed, anyway, so you’re curled up on your couch under a blanket, trying to make yourself read a book instead of scrolling your phone. It’s going all right, but when the phone buzzes on the coffee table next to you, you pounce on it with shameful speed.

It's a text from Tenko – Shimura. It’s from Shimura, who you’ve gotten into the bad habit of calling Tenko in your head. my power just went out

that sucks. You wonder if you should offer to help, but what would you even do? did you lose any files?

autosave. but the deadline’s tomorrow and my WiFi went down too. That still begs the question of why Shimura’s texting you about it. town still has power. can I hang out in the café and finish the project?

Now you get it. Shimura’s in hot water and he needs you to bail him out. It’s the kind of thing you’d do for a friend. A lot of things you and Shimura do are the kind of things friends do.

Not that you’re friends. You never see each other outside the café; you ran into him at the grocery store a few months after he started coming in and he pretended he didn’t know you. But inside the café, when it’s quiet, the two of you talk. You learned what he does for work – beta-testing computer games and identifying spots that need a patch – and he learned that you have basically no life outside your job, which he can’t judge you for because he doesn’t have one, either. When the two of you traded phone numbers, it was a work-related thing. Since the babkas have gotten popular, he texts on days when he’s planning on coming in, so you know to set one aside.

Except that’s not all he texts you about. He texts you about the most random things, in massive bursts between days of radio silence, and when he comes into the café again, he keeps talking about whatever it was like you’d been talking about it the whole time. It’s like he has no idea how to carry on a text conversation. Or how to have a friend.

You don’t have a great idea of how to have a friend, either. Let alone a friend you have feelings for. If Shimura was just your friend, you’d have texted back by now. Shimura texts again. I get it if you don’t want to come back into town when the weather’s shit. i would have asked about your place but I didn’t want to make it weird

Not weird. You answer without thinking too hard about it. I don’t know how much longer I’ll have power. You should probably come over now.

yeah. address? Shimura gives a thumbs-up once you send it. thanks.

You give him a thumbs-up, too. You’re already worried you’ve made a mistake.

The power’s still on by the time Shimura knocks on your door, which is one of your worries dealt with. You’ve changed out of your pajamas, and you moved stuff off the kitchen table and hid it in the hall closet so he’ll have a space to work. You’re feeling almost normal by the time you go to let him in, and he slinks through the door, looking like a drowned rat and shivering like a kicked puppy. “It sucks out there,” he mumbles. “My heat went out, too.”

“Mine’s still on. And I’ve got blankets and stuff if you want them,” you say. Shimura is still wearing his mask, but his hoodie is soaking wet, and when he takes down the hood you see that his hair is wavier than you thought. Or maybe it’s just the water. “The WiFi password is on the fridge. Make yourself at home.”

Shimura takes off his shoes and pushes his hair out of his face to peer at your apartment. “Nice place.”

“Don’t be mean.”

“I’m not. It’s not a mess and there aren’t holes anywhere. It’s nice.” Shimura gives you a look you don’t know how to interpret. “Thanks for letting me come over. Uh –”

He runs out of whatever he was going to say, but you’ve got no idea what he was going to follow up with. The two of you stand there for a second. Shimura’s hoodie is so sopping wet that it’s making puddles on the floor. “Okay,” you say finally. “Give me your hoodie and I’ll put it in the dryer.”

“You have a dryer? I drag my shit to the laundromat.”

You used to, but then you found out about all the petty things civilians do to make people like you feel unwelcome. Shimura hasn’t noticed because Shimura’s undercover. You wait while he peels off the hoodie. You’ve never seen him without it, barely seen him with the hood down, and beneath it, his clothes are just as oversized. His arms are bare and pale – and scarred. You wrench your eyes away, take the hoodie to the dryer, and take the opportunity to compose yourself along the way. You have a friend over. Normal people have friends over. You’re helping a friend. It doesn’t get more normal than that.

When you come back, Shimura’s hard at work at the kitchen table, laptop open and notebook at his side. You don’t want to distract him. You have a feeling the two of you are racing the clock with the storm and the power lines, so you sit down on the couch with your blanket and pick up your book. No way are you going to be able to read. When you’re at work, you have a million things to do. Right now, there’s nothing for you to do but watch Shimura.

He's focused on whatever he’s doing, typing fast but lopsided. It takes you a second to figure out what the problem is, but once you do, you’re startled – two fingers on his left hand are basically paralyzed. Maybe that’s why he wears the gloves. His hair falls to his shoulders, and although it’s black, there’s a flatness to the color that tells you it’s not natural, and that he did it at home. Maybe you should offer to do it for him when his roots start to grow out. You’ve never seen the lower half of his face, but apparently you didn’t need to in order to give yourself a crush on him.

You like him. You’re being silly about it. And you’re staring. You stick your face back in your book.

But it can’t hold your attention for long when he’s here, and when you inevitably look back up, you find Shimura already watching you. “What?” you ask.

“Get over here. I need your help with something.”

“I don’t game.”

“It’s not about gameplay. It’s –” Shimura beckons to you impatiently, and you abandon your book and blanket to peer over his shoulder at the screen. “Something’s wrong with this stage. It looks like shit. I told the devs that, and they said I had to be more specific –”

“It’s the color saturation,” you say. Shimura looks up at you. “And the shadows are wrong. If the light source is supposed to be coming from above – like the sun – the shadows should be in different spots. Or there should be shadows, and there aren’t any. That’s why the character looks like – that.”

You glance away from the screen, at Shimura. “What kind of game is this?”

“It’s a dating sim. Shut up,” Shimura says. “I don’t get to pick what I test. What was that about the shadows?”

“They need to fix the lighting.”

Shimura looks irritated. “They’re gonna want specifics.”

“The stage looks flat because they haven’t added shading to match the light source,” you say. Shimura pulls up another document and types something into it. “Shading gives dimension. And the color saturation is too high. That’s why it looks like –”

“A fucking eyesore.” Shimura minimizes the document, then clicks a dialogue option to advance the game to the next screen. “Same problem here?”

You nod, but it’s not the only problem. “Is this supposed to be a schoolgirl sim? High school girls don’t talk like that.”

“How do you know?”

“I was one,” you say. You read the response to Shimura’s chosen prompt again. “This skews really young. Like, twelve or something.”

Shimura’s face twists with disgust. “How do we fix that?”

“Fewer exclamation points,” you suggest. Shimura writes that down. “Does it have to be high school girls? For this game?”

“They’re supposed to be college girls so it’s legal. The outfits are how the dev wants it.” Shimura rolls his eyes. “But he’s a pro hero, so it doesn’t matter that he’s a perv. Right?”

“I didn’t know there were pros making computer games,” you say. “I know a lot of them have side hustles, but – pervy dating sims?”

“Pervy dating sims. Sorry to burst your bubble.”

“I’ve been captured seventeen times and only twice by cops,” you say. “I don’t really have a bubble.”

“Seventeen times,” Shimura repeats. “I can’t tell if that’s a flex or not. Who got you?”

“Um –” You think it over. “Kamui Woods, back when he was field-testing that Lacquered Chain Prison thing.”

“That thing fucking sucks.”

“Tell me about it. Death Arms nabbed me at one point, but he dropped me when I turned him green.” You’re still proud of that one, even if you got in worse trouble for it than usual. “Endeavor actually caught me tagging something once. I would have been screwed, except I guess he was looking for a more high-profile case.”

“So he just let you go?”

“Yep.” You think back on the other times you got booked. “One time Fatgum got me. And then some work-study kids from Shiketsu High.”

Shimura snorts. “Kids got you?”

“My quirk’s not very dangerous,” you say. By that point you’d learned that turning people different colors could net you an assault charge. “And then it was Eraserhead. Four or five times. I can camouflage with my quirk and he could turn it off.”

Shimura nods. He’s clicking through screens on the dating sim. “What about you?” you ask. “Who caught you?”

“I only got taken into custody one time,” Shimura says. “I had run-ins with, uh – Eraserhead, Present Mic, Thirteen, All Might, Endeavor, Kamui Woods, Ryukyu, Miruko –”

Those are all big-name heroes. You have to wonder what Shimura did. “But I guess Midoriya’s the one who made it stick,” Shimura concludes. Midoriya? It takes you a second, and Shimura fills in. “The one with the stupid name. Deku.”

“Oh.”

Deku’s active hero career was fairly short, and all his fights were big ones. Shimura must have been working for somebody powerful before the war, or during it. Shimura’s shoulders stiffen, suddenly. “Forget I said that.”

“Okay,” you say. Maybe he’s embarrassed about getting captured by a student, even if you just told him you did the same thing. “If you forget I got arrested seventeen times.”

“Deal.” Shimura clicks through a few more screens, then curses. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” You peer at the screen, and Shimura blocks it. “Is it proprietary or something?”

“No, it’s porn,” Shimura says. He’s scowling. “There’s not one route in this game that doesn’t end with the player getting laid by three characters at once.”

Three seems like a lot, but – “Isn’t that kind of what dating sims are for?” you ask. Shimura shrugs. What little of his face you can see around the mask is flushed. “Wait, is this how you have to test them? Playing through every route?”

“And getting all the bonus cutscenes.” Shimura rolls his eyes. He glances at the screen. “Great. There’s audio.”

“What kind?” you ask. “You have to check if it works, right?”

“Maybe it’s background music,” Shimura says. He presses play.

It’s not background music. It’s exactly what you’d expect, and it’s painfully loud. Shimura scrambles to mute the game and pauses it two seconds after a shot of something anatomically improbable. “Let me guess – the lighting’s fucked up here, too. Right?”

“And the facial movements don’t match the audio,” you say. “Did the developers send you this before it was ready?”

“No, they’re just on a budget. This is as ready as it gets.” Shimura shows you a dialogue prompt. “Do women say stuff like this?”

“Um – no. Not as a first-time thing. If this is a first-time route.”

“It is.” Shimura groans. “I still have a quarter of the route left. Let’s go.”

“Go where?”

“The couch. I need your help with this and you only have one chair at your kitchen table.”

Your couch is sort of messy. You shift the blankets and pillows around to make room for two. Shimura props his feet on the coffee table, sets a pillow on his lap, and balances the laptop on it. “If you spot any more off-balance graphics, tell me. I already made a note about the dialogue.”

“Can you turn the brightness up?” You sit down next to him. The contrast shifts, and you wince. “The light’s wrong.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. Unless that love interest is supposed to give off light.” You don’t know anything about this game. Maybe it actually is about glowing college girls in high school uniforms who really like foursomes. “If she isn’t, that’s a problem, because she’s the light source for the whole frame. And if she is, there’s no shading, so it’s flat again.”

“Ugh.” Shimura rolls his shoulders. “This is gonna be a long night.”

It’s going to be a long night, but it’s also sort of fun. You haven’t hung out with a friend in a while, and it’s nicer than you remember. You decide you want hot chocolate, so you make a cup for Shimura, too, and you learn a lot more about making erotic dating sims than you ever wanted to know. By the third porn interlude, Shimura’s basically out of patience. “This is a waste of time.”

“You’re getting paid for it, right?” you ask. Shimura nods. “Is there something you’d be doing if you didn’t have to do this?”

“Yeah. I’d be talking to you about something other than this dumb game.” Shimura hits the skip button five times in a row. “What were you doing when I texted?”

“Trying to read.” You point out the book on the coffee table and Shimura inspects it. “I used to read a lot when I didn’t have a phone, but it’s hard to get back into it when the phone is right there. That’s why I texted back so fast.”

Shimura’s frowning behind his mask. “Why didn’t you text me first?”

“To ask if your power was out and invite you over?” you ask, puzzled, and Shimura’s frown deepens. “I’d text you more if I thought I could get away with it.”

“What does that mean?”

“Um, just that I’m not sure how much you want to talk,” you say, “and I don’t want to annoy you. That’s it.”

“You know what’s annoying? That.” Shimura clicks through a few more screens. “We can’t talk at the café because you’re busy. You never ask to meet up when you aren’t busy. When else are we supposed to talk?”

“Shimura –” You must have missed something, somewhere. Some little detail that makes all of this make sense. The lights in your apartment flicker, and your stomach jolts. “I think the power’s going.”

“Shit.” Shimura starts typing faster, splitting his screen between the game and the document where he’s been making corrections. “Shit!”

“If the internet goes out, I can use my phone as a hotspot,” you offer.

“The signal won’t be strong enough. I have to send so many fucking screengrabs.” Shimura’s fingers fly across the keys. “If you want to help, start praying that the electricity holds out long enough for me to get this done.”

“I’ll pray,” you say. “I don’t want to be responsible for you losing your job and going back to a life of crime.”

Shimura laughs at that, raspy and sharp, and keeps typing. You watch as he clicks through stages, skips cutscenes he’s already played, hits a key on his keyboard that generates screengrabs of any stage he’s found an issue with, all while typing into a note document at the same time. He’s fast. You’ve never seen him work this fast in the café, but then again, you’ve never really gotten to observe him in the café, either. You’re always busy. Too busy to talk – at least not as much as Shimura wants to talk. He wants to talk to you more. Has he really been waiting for you to make the first move?

The lights flicker again, the room going dark for a split second before brightening up again. Shimura’s no longer typing – instead he’s watching a file upload to a server, progressing a few megabytes at a time. You switch from facetiously praying to actually praying. Your power only needs to hold out long enough for Shimura’s upload to finish.

The entire status bar on the upload turns green, and a checkmark appears, confirming it’s complete. A second later, your power goes out, plunging your apartment into near-total darkness.

Shimura breathes a sigh of relief. “That was close,” he says, and shuts the lid of his laptop, making the darkness complete. “Now I don’t have to return to my life of crime.”

“Good,” you say. “I’d be sad not to see you at the café again.”

He said he wanted to talk to you more, so it’s probably safe for you to say you’d be sad not to see him. Your eyes haven’t adjusted enough to make out more than Shimura’s shape in the darkness. “I looked up the NCRA thing. You could have gone for job training. Why’d you decide to open up a coffee shop?”

“I didn’t just want to make money.” You got asked this same question when you applied for the NCRA in the first place. “People always told me that I was selfish, because all criminals are selfish, so I wanted to make something for other people. I wanted to be able to give other people something I didn’t have when I needed it.”

Shimura sets his closed laptop on the coffee table with a quiet thud. “You really seized the day with this stuff, huh?”

“I didn’t want to live the way I was living before,” you say. “It was either stop living or try something else.”

“Did you think it would work?”

“I didn’t know,” you say. “I wanted to find out.”

That’s what it was, more than anything else. You told yourself you’d go one day at a time, that at the end of each day you’d decide if it was worth trying again tomorrow. At first it was out of spite. The early days of the NCRA were filled with detractors, people who thought criminals and villains deserved to rot in prison or worse, and every day you went without violating your probation was a day you spent pissing them off. But soon it was more than that. You worked on names for the café, too focused on finding the right one to pretend it didn’t matter. You taught yourself to use an espresso machine, and you wanted the chance to use it. You put your first mural up and started planning the next one. Without meaning to, surviving out of spite became surviving for yourself.

“Yeah,” Shimura says after a second. “I want to find out, too.”

Something about his tone of voice captures your attention. You turn to face him, turning on the flashlight on your phone, but the brightness makes you flinch. You lower it partially, and Shimura’s hand comes up to force it down the rest of the way. “Don’t,” he says. “I have to take off my mask.”

Anticipation puts a twist in your spine, and as your eyes readjust to the darkness, you see Shimura unhook one side of his mask, then the other, lowering it away from his face. You’ve never seen the lower half of his face before. “Why did you take it off if you don’t want me to see?”

“Because I want to kiss you and it would get in the way.”

You thought your crush on Shimura was going nowhere fast. You didn’t think there was any chance he’d want you, too. His gloved hands settle at your waist and stay there, shifting you closer to him. You feel his breath against your cheek a moment before his lips, dry and cracked, meet yours.

It’s a quick kiss. Quick, and tentative. He draws back, but he doesn’t go far. You can still feel his breath against your skin, and when you lean forward again, he kisses you a second time. A second time melts into a third, a fourth, blending so seamlessly into each other that you lose count. Kissing Shimura doesn’t set you on fire, but you can’t remember another time where you felt curious like this. Where you’ve wanted to see what another kiss will do, rather than losing patience and pulling away.

The power doesn’t come back on, and just like the darkness emboldened Shimura to take off his mask, it emboldens you to unfold your hands from your lap and touch him. His kisses grow more insistent as you run your hands along his back, when you rest them against his shoulders, fingers uncurling along the length of his collarbones. Shimura’s hands don’t leave your waist, but his grip on you tightens. It tightens further when you run your fingers along the side of his neck.

You’ve seen him scratching there, so it’s not hard to imagine it’s a sensitive place. You draw back from kissing him and press your lips against it, and Shimura speaks, his voice even raspier than usual. “Did you like me this whole time?”

“Huh?”

“Did you like me this whole time? You gave me free stuff when I came in.”

“I gave you discounted stuff,” you correct. You kiss his neck again. Shimura stirs discontentedly under your hands and mouth. “You were a new customer. I wanted you to come back.”

“You saved a pastry for me the day that hero showed up,” Shimura says. “Did you like me then?”

He’s really stuck on this. “Why do you want to know?”

“I couldn’t tell if you liked me or not. I thought you did, but I wasn’t sure.” Shimura’s head tilts, exposing more of his throat, but you’re more interested in his shoulder, partially revealed by the neck of his oversized shirt. “I want to know when.”

“It would have been when I saved the pastry for you, except you were kind of a dick that day,” you say. Shimura snorts. “After that. But before your birthday. I meant it when I said I’d go to your party.”

“You’d be the only one.” Shimura’s hands leave your waist, sliding beneath your shirt. He’s still wearing his gloves, but his exposed fingertips are rough. “Next year.”

He’s thinking way ahead. How do you feel about that? “Yeah,” you say, edging closer to him. “Next year.”

Part of you feels crazy for this. You’re crazy for making out with Shimura on your couch, yanking off his shirt and letting him unhook your bra, tangling your hands up in his hair and tugging it ever so slightly and feeling a sharp stab of desire when he gasps against your mouth. The rest of you doesn’t care. There will always be something within you that doesn’t evaluate risk quite right, that doesn’t care about the aftermath when something you want is right in front of you. Shimura is the first thing you’ve wanted in so long that’s got nothing to do with the faultless new life you’ve been trying to build. You want him, and some part of you will always be bad at saying no to what you want.

An alarm goes off on Shimura’s phone and scares the two of you apart. You’re closer to it, and when you grab it, you notice two things right away. First, that Shimura’s alarm is labeled “go to sleep, moron”. Second, the time. “It’s two am.”

“Shit.” Shimura lifts the phone out of your hands and silences the alarm. “You need to wake up in three hours.”

“The café’s closed tomorrow.” You’re sort of touched that he remembered how early you have to wake up on workdays. Your heart is still beating too fast. “Do you need to go?”

“The streetlights are still out.” It’s pitch-dark outside your window. “Can I crash on your couch?”

“You could,” you say. “The bed’s more comfortable, though.”

“Yeah, no shit. It –” Shimura’s head snaps up. “Wait, seriously?”

“Yeah,” you say. “I don’t know about you, but I wasn’t done here.”

“Me, either.” Shimura stands up, and so do you. “Let’s go.”

Your apartment is tough to navigate in the dark, even for you, and Shimura bumps into every obstacle you know about and a few more you didn’t think would be a problem. He swerves to avoid the edge of your kitchen table and walks straight into the corner of the hallway that leads to your bedroom and the bathroom. “Fuck!”

“Back up a few steps,” you say. Shimura backs up. “Take two steps to the left. No, your other left.”

Shimura curses again, quieter. “Either this place is a fucking labyrinth, or –”

“You got so wound up you walked into a wall,” you say. Shimura snorts. “You’ve never been here before, Shimura. Take it easy.”

“Tenko.”

“Hm?”

“It’s Tenko,” he says. You get the faintest hint of butterflies in your stomach. “We made out for three hours and you invited me back to your bedroom. Quit it with the Shimura thing. I’ve been using your name the whole time.”

“Okay. Tenko.” You step forward until you’re right in front of him. “Hold out your hands.”

He holds them straight out at shoulder height and narrowly avoids smacking you in the face. You take them both and pull them down, noting how badly Tenko startles. “You’ve been using my first name, but you don’t want to hold my hands?”

“I don’t get why you want to hold mine.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” you say, puzzled. You take one step back, and another, and another after that, until your back hits your bedroom door. “Like you said, I asked you to stay over.”

“I asked to stay over. You said –”

“I remember.” You can’t believe you did that. You don’t regret it, but you’re a little floored. “I wouldn’t have done that if I didn’t want to hold your hands, too.”

Tenko steps forward, crowding you against the door, and kisses you without letting go of your hands. It feels different than the earlier kisses, not frantic or heated, not light or uncertain, not slow or deep or inexorable. This feels like a movie kiss, the kind at the end of a romcom where everything and nothing’s been resolved. Your life has never been a movie. There’s every chance that this is a mistake. But you don’t mind setting it aside for a little while, from now until you fall asleep. You keep kissing Tenko in your lightless apartment, and you don’t let go of his hands until it’s time to open your bedroom door.

You’re not hungover when you wake up, and when you think about it, you’re not actually confused. You know why it’s warmer in your bed than usual, why you feel like that, why the first thing that hits you is uncertainty, anxiety. Shimura came over last night, because the power went out in his apartment and he still had work to do. The power didn’t go out in your apartment until after his work was finished. And you shouldn’t be calling him Shimura in your head, because sometime between the couch and your bedroom, he told you to call him Tenko – and then he gave you a lot of chances to get used to saying his name.

Your face goes up in flames at the memory, but there’s no stopping it, and there’s no relief in waking up. When you turn your head, you see Tenko asleep on his side, the shadowy scars on his back interrupted here and there with scratches you left. It’s the scratches more than anything that hammer it home to you, more than the fact that you’re naked or the soreness between your legs. You slept with Shimura Tenko last night, and you let him come inside you, and you didn’t pee after sex like you’re supposed to do. You didn’t even clean up. What did you do?

You sit bolt upright in a panic, and beside you, Tenko stirs. “Too early,” he mumbles. One hand reaches out for you, closes three fingers and a thumb around your forearm, and yanks you back down. “Sleep.”

“I don’t usually sleep late,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“I don’t usually sleep.” Tenko’s halfway back to it already. You glance at the hand holding your arm and realize that it’s ungloved. You’ve never seen Tenko without his gloves. “Don’t ruin it.”

You’re ruining his sleep by getting up? How? The question is answered when he flops back against you, forcing you into the role of the big spoon whether you want it or not. You know he doesn’t sleep well. You’ve seen dark circles under his red eyes, and he wouldn’t have set a two am alarm that calls him a moron for staying awake if going to sleep was easy for him. Tenko’s a guest, and your friend – maybe – and whatever else he is or isn’t, you slept with him last night, and he slept over. Maybe you should just be grateful that he didn’t flee the scene. You’ve heard guys do that the morning after. It’s not something you’ve seen before, because nobody you ever slept with before stayed the night. They wouldn’t have, even if you’d had a place to stay.

You lie back down and wrap your arm loosely around Tenko’s waist, turning your head and pressing your cheek against his shoulder. There’s scar tissue under your cheek, just like there was on his neck, just like there is on his back and his arms. Something horrible happened to him. You don’t have the first clue what it is, but it’s in his past. He’s here. You close your eyes and do your best to fall asleep.

When you wake up again, there’s light slanting through the window, and your ceiling fan is on. The power’s back. Tenko’s here, awake, but he must have left at some point, because he has his mask on again. He’s also got his phone in his ungloved hand, scrolling away at something. His other hand, still gloved, rests on your bare back. Not doing anything, not starting anything. Just – there.

You clear your throat. “You’re still here.”

“Where else was I gonna be?” Tenko gives you a weird look. His bedhead is absolutely horrendous. “I don’t have a new project yet and it’s your day off. So we can hang out.”

You think through what you were going to do today. It wasn’t much. Mostly errands – laundry, picking up a prescription. But you’d planned to do something fun, too. “Want to go down to the beach?”

“The beach?” Tenko sounds like he’s thinking about it. Then he shakes his head. “Too many people.”

“On the main beach. I go to a different one. It’s a lot quieter over there.” You look up at him. “After a storm like last night’s there should be tons of good stuff washed up. And if you want we can come back here to hang out afterward. Or go to your place.”

“My place is gross,” Tenko says. He grimaces behind the mask. “I mean – I’m not gross. It’s gross. Everything has a hole in it. And I don’t have, like – I don’t decorate. It’s not –”

“It’s okay,” you say. “We don’t have to go there today.”

“Some other time,” Tenko says. “I have to clean.”

“I’d have cleaned if I’d known you were coming over.”

“This place is clean.” Tenko’s fingers tap a pattern on your back. “Fine. I’ll go to the beach with you. If anything bites me I’m leaving.”

“We’re not getting in the water. It’s still too cold,” you say, laughing. “But sure. Fine. You’ve got a deal.”

“I’m serious. If something bites me –”

“I’ll protect you.” You sit up as he scoffs, leaning in to kiss his cheek over the mask. “You agreed to try it. It’s the least I can do.”

You can tell Tenko’s frowning when you draw back. “We had sex last night and I get a cheek kiss?”

“I’m not making out with you through your mask.”

“Close your eyes, then.”

You do. You’re not sure why Tenko’s so insistent on only taking off his mask when you can’t see his face, but you don’t have a problem respecting that boundary as long as he still kisses you every so often. Just like last night, you feel Tenko’s breath against your skin before his lips meet yours – but while last night you had curiosity, now you have memories, and heat floods through you as you kiss him. When Tenko pulls you down into his lap, you don’t argue with him. He's already half-hard, and he hisses sharply when you shift against him. It’s all too easy to imagine his expression.

You saw shadows of it last night, and you remember something else, too. “Did you make me close my eyes so I wouldn’t call you pretty again?”

“Not pretty,” Tenko mumbles. “You’re weird.”

Maybe, but you’re not wrong, and you also know it’s not a mood killer. A few more kisses and Tenko’s hard again, his hands grasping your hips and pulling you down towards his cock. No condom, again. You didn’t have one last night, and you’re still not on birth control, but – you sink down on him for the second time in twelve hours, and your thoughts flutter uselessly alongside your eyelids. You had your period a week ago. You’re not going to get pregnant. It’s – fine –

It’s so close to noon that you can barely call it morning sex, but if this thing with Tenko keeps up, morning sex is a strong contender for your favorite kind. Or maybe you just like riding him. Maybe both. It’s slow and easy, and Tenko leans back against the headboard, letting you do most of the work. He has one request, though. One thing that’s odd. “My right hand. Hold it down.”

You curl your fingers around his wrist and pin it to the headboard, and his hips jerk sharply. “Yeah. Don’t let go.”

His right hand’s immobilized, but his left stays on your hip, fingernails digging in as you increase your pace. With your eyes closed, with nothing to ground yourself but Tenko’s touch, it’s all too easy to lose yourself. You come on his cock in a rush of pleasure that leaves you gasping, and Tenko’s wrist strains in your grip as he loses control seconds later, a low moan wrenching itself out of his mouth. He’s shaking beneath you, and when he speaks, his voice is a wreck. “This was a bad idea,” he says, and your heart plummets. “Now I’m too tired for the beach.”

You laugh breathlessly. “I bet we can rally,” you say. “Let me know when it’s safe to open my eyes.”

Even once Tenko’s put his mask back on, he doesn’t want to let you out of his lap. You get up anyway and stagger to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of yourself in the mirror on the way. You definitely look like you had sex twice in the last twelve hours. You don’t look half as anxious as you feel. You vaguely remember telling yourself not to worry about what this means last night, but you and Tenko are going to have to talk at some point, because not knowing what’s going on is stressing you out.

You have to kick Tenko out of bed when you get back from the bathroom, because not changing the sheets is also stressing you out. So is not having very many choices in the breakfast department, even though you had no idea he was coming over and even less of one that he’d spend the night. You can provide coffee, at least – the espresso machine you learned on is still in your kitchen at home. You upgraded the café’s as soon as you possibly could.

You don’t have the usual flavored syrups here, but you mix two cappuccinos instead. Tenko pulls his mask to one side and tries a sip. “This is good,” he says, surprised in a way that should offend you but doesn’t. “Next time I’m ordering one of these.”

“Instead of the mocha?”

“Instead of the coffee.” Tenko takes another sip. “I found frozen waffles in the freezer. Can I eat those?”

“Yeah. The toaster’s over there.”

You discover a few seconds later that Tenko wasn’t actually planning to defrost the waffles before eating them, and you spend a little while being appalled before you show him how to toast them properly. The two of you eat standing up in the kitchen and finish your coffee, and Tenko plugs in his laptop while you switch out the laundry. “I can leave this here, right?” he asks when you come back to the living room. “We’re coming back after?”

“Yeah.” You watch as Tenko leaves his backpack but pockets his phone and keys. “Let’s go.”

Your anxiety was held at bay for a while, when you had things to do, but now it’s just the two of you walking side by side down the street, and you’re agonizing about whether to hold his hand. Tenko’s hand brushes with yours once, twice, before you lose patience. “Do you want to hold hands?”

Tenko’s eyes widen over his mask, and he doesn’t answer you, but a moment later, his hand closes awkwardly over yours. You haven’t held hands in a while. You don’t think this is how it’s supposed to work. But you’re holding hands with Tenko. That’s what you wanted. Everything’s fine.

“Why did you move here?” Tenko asks, as the two of you pass the street that leads down to the main beach and keep walking. “Out of everywhere?”

“It was strongly suggested by my probation officer that I get out of the city,” you say. “He thought I’d be less likely to fall back into my old ways if I was in a small town, since I’d actually know the people whose buildings I was defacing.”

“Didn’t you get busted for tagging your own house?”

“Yep.” Looking back, it was an incredibly stupid move. Your parents were already at the end of their rope with you. You should have known they’d cut you loose. “And I’d always wanted to live near the ocean, so it worked out. What about you?”

“I needed somewhere out of the way,” Tenko says. “It didn’t matter where.”

“And you got here five years ago?” You keep walking past the second beach access road. The road to your beach is a lot more out of the way. “We must have gotten here around the same time, then.”

“I was first. I’d been here three months when you started renovating that building.” Tenko’s eyes seem far away. “It was good timing. People were starting to ask questions about me, but then they switched over to you instead.”

“Glad I could help.” You feel funny about the fact that you were running interference for him, four and a half years before he ever set foot in your café. “And I’m glad you picked this place for a fresh start.”

“People like me don’t get fresh starts,” Tenko says. You’re about to point out that as a person without a record, all he has to do for a fresh start is move, but he speaks before you can. “I’m glad I ended up here, too.”

You’ll take it, even if you have a lot of questions about everything else he just said. The two of you walk in silence for a little while. It’s a cloudy day, with only faint sunbeams sneaking through, and the wind carries a faint chill even though it’s officially summer by now. “What should we do when we get back?” Tenko asks.

“We aren’t even there yet.”

“Yeah, but I want to know what I have to look forward to,” Tenko says. You roll your eyes. “You don’t play games. Do you want to learn?”

“Maybe,” you say. “I’m not going to be good at it. I’d slow you down.”

“You’ll get better fast if I’m the one teaching you,” Tenko says. “There are lots of different games. I can teach you to play any of them. Except dating sims.”

“You don’t like playing dating sims?” You fake surprise, and it’s Tenko’s turn to roll his eyes. “Do you have to test a lot of them?”

“I test whatever people send me. That’s why it’ll be easy for me to teach you,” Tenko says. “They’re all the same underneath. I haven’t played one in a long time that was actually a challenge.”

His grip on your hand relaxes slightly, his fingers sliding through yours to lace them together. “I used to really like games. It sucks.”

You squeeze his hand slightly. You’ve been there, or somewhere like it. It took you a long time to get back into art after you joined the NCRA. “Have you ever thought about making one? A game?”

“Like the kind I’d want to play?” Tenko seems to perk up for a second. Then his shoulders slump. “Nobody else would want to play it.”

“It sounds like you’ve got an idea, though.” You nudge him lightly with your shoulder and he stumbles. Oops. “Want to tell me about it?”

He hesitates for a while. A really long while. Then: “It’s mystery and horror, but not jump-scare horror. There are monsters, but they aren’t the real problem – or the ones you see aren’t the ones you should be worried about. It’s hard to explain. Anyway, the player character – it’s all going to be second-person – wakes up in a room they don’t recognize with no memory of how they got there. You can remember some things about your life, but how you got from where you’re supposed to be to stage one of the game is a total question mark. So there are two initial objectives. Figuring out what the hell is going on and getting the hell out of there.”

“Okay,” you say. It sounds stressful. “How do you do that? In the game.”

“You have to find a way out of the building first.” Tenko looks surprised that you’re still asking questions. “And that’s easy enough, so then –”

For a game he thinks no one else would want to play, Tenko’s put a lot of thought into it. He’s still talking about it as the two of you make the turn onto the beach access road – about the storyline of the game, the twists and reveals he’s thought of, the need to tweak the design and color palette to make everything seem just slightly off. The question of music or no music, and if music, what it should sound like. You like hearing him talk about something important to him, something he’s excited about, even if the concept of the game is giving you heart palpitations. You don’t think there are many things that make Tenko happy. You’d like to be one of them.

You get down to the beach at last, and just like you were hoping, it’s basically deserted. The tide is on its slow, steady way back in, but the beach is strewn with logs and twists of seaweed and kelp, and you’re willing to bet that there’s some sea-glass lying around in the debris along the high-tide line. Tenko studies it, significantly less ambivalent than he was a second ago. “When you said there’d be more stuff, I didn’t think you meant trees.”

“A storm can dredge up all kinds of things,” you say. “And last night’s storm was pretty bad. Come on.”

Tenko lets you pull him a little closer to the water, until you’re both walking on hard-packed sand. You get distracted by the debris field almost immediately, and you let go of Tenko’s hand without thinking so you can search for sea-glass more efficiently. Tenko’s tone of voice makes it clear he’s amused. “So this is like a scavenger hunt for you?”

“I guess.” You come up with a brown piece, followed by a green one, both of them old and smooth. “I want to make something for the café. I’ve been collecting it since I moved here.”

“Five years and you still don’t have enough?”

“The idea for the project keeps getting bigger,” you admit. Tenko snorts. “You can go on ahead if you want. I don’t want to slow you down.”

“I want to hang out with you.” Tenko crouches down next to you on the sand. “This is fine.”

You find multiple pieces in the time it takes him to find one, which he offers to you. It’s a pretty piece, sky-blue and frosted over, but you shake your head. “You found it. It’s yours.”

“I found it for you,” Tenko says, but you notice that he pockets it. And that he keeps looking.

The two of you wander from debris field to debris field, the tide inching up behind you. You’re comfortable with the silence – it’s how it usually is when he’s at the café, after all – but beneath the veneer of ease, questions are eating at you. Questions you don’t know how to ask or how to answer. Your crush on Shimura Tenko is intense, but it’s never been something real. It was just proof that you were getting back to normal, that you could live a life not dominated by the need to prove to the rest of the world that criminals are people, too. You never expected your crush to turn into sleeping with him, him staying the night, him wanting to hang out the next day – and even if you had expected it, you’d never have expected it to happen so fast.

“You were right,” Tenko says. You glance at him. “No people. It’s not as bad.”

You nod. “I’d come back if you wanted to,” Tenko says. He tilts his head, studying you. “Do you want to?”

“Do you want to do all this again?” you ask. He gives you a weird look. “The whole sex, sleepover, hang out the next day thing?”

“That’s what people do, isn’t it?” Tenko’s giving you an even weirder look now. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about –” The distress is building beyond what you can handle. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “What we are. To each other. After that.”

He’s not giving you a weird look anymore. He’s looking at you like you’re the dumbest person he’s ever met. You feel like the dumbest person anybody’s ever met, ever. “Like, are we friends with benefits, or –”

“You said you like me,” Tenko cuts you off. “I like you. Do you think I just – with anybody? I’ve been here for five fucking years. Do you know how many people have my phone number? One. The day that hero showed up, I never would have come back, except –”

His hand comes up, scratching his neck with gloved fingers. “I wouldn’t do this if I didn’t like you. Why do you think it took me so long?”

It? What is he talking about? “I do like you,” you say. “I really like you. I just didn’t think anything would happen. Or happen that fast.”

“Hooking up like that was your idea,” Tenko says. You don’t want to own up to that, but it’s true – he was the one who kissed you, but you were the one who suggested heading back to your room. “Do you wish we hadn’t?”

“I wish I’d been better prepared,” you admit. Tenko blinks. “If I had condoms things wouldn’t have been as messy.”

“I like it messy.” Tenko states it so plainly that you feel your face heat up. “We’ll get condoms. You can stop freaking out whenever you want.”

“I’m not freaking out,” you say. “I just –”

The scream comes out of nowhere, cutting off a thought you didn’t have a prayer of articulating properly. “Help!”

It’s a kid’s voice, high-pitched and splitting with fear. You can’t identify where it’s coming from, and there’s not even a question of what you’ll do. You and Tenko trade a glance, then rocket to your feet. Tenko takes off down the beach. You head back the way you came. “Keep yelling!” you shout to the kid. “Let us know where you are!”

The kid keeps yelling, getting steadily less coherent. They must be closer to you than to Tenko, because their voice is getting louder. You veer closer to the water’s edge, your heart in your throat. The water’s already rushing up around the logs the storm left behind, up to your ankles and getting higher. The kid’s scream takes on a new urgency. “Hurry! The waves –”

You skitter around a log, giving it a wide berth to avoid the deeper pool of water beneath it, and find the kid, halfway trapped under another log and struggling to keep his head above water. He spots you, opens his mouth to scream again, and catches a mouthful of seawater from the wave that’s just rolled in.

You duck down beside him, hoisting his head and shoulders up, buying time. You suck down a breath and let loose a shout of your own. “Tenko! Over here!”

It seems like an eternity before he appears around the side of the log. He looks at the kid, then at you. “What the hell happened?”

The kid is crying too hard to answer, but it’s not hard to guess. “He must have been climbing on the log, and it rolled over on him.”

“What were you doing out here alone?” Tenko demands of the kid. The kid doesn’t answer, and Tenko’s red eyes flash with rage. “Who was supposed to take care of you? Why aren’t they here?”

“Hey,” you snap. This isn’t helping. “I need you to call emergency services. Tell them we’re at Fourth Beach and there’s a kid in trouble.”

Tenko pulls out his phone and dials, while you try to strategize. The tide is coming in faster now. Even if emergency services gets here at their top speed, there’s a good chance the water will have already covered the kid’s head. Based on the way he’s panicking, you don’t think he has a quirk that lets him breathe underwater, and you have a fleeting thought about heroes before remembering that you’re in a rural town. There are no heroes here. You and Tenko are going to have to get him out yourselves.

Your quirk is worse than useless for this. You don’t know what Tenko’s quirk is, or if he even has one. Tenko shoves his phone in his pocket and hurries back to your side. “They said they’re coming.”

“How long?”

“Ten minutes.”

The kid doesn’t have ten minutes, and all three of you know it. “Here’s what I’m thinking,” you say, trying to keep your voice calm. “When the next wave comes in, we can use its momentum to roll the log forward and pull him out from underneath it.”

“It’s huge,” Tenko says. “That won’t work.”

“It rolled from him stepping on it,” you say. “We can do this.”

Tenko doesn’t argue with you. He turns to watch the waves, looking for a likely one, while you explain the situation to the boy. He’s going to have to hold his breath while you and Tenko push the log, and then one of you – probably you – will pull him out. He starts to protest, but then Tenko calls out that a wave’s coming up, and the boy switches to sucking down air instead. Good. You hold him up until the last possible moment, then get to your feet. You take up a position at Tenko’s side, set your feet as firmly as you’re able to in the shifting sand, and shove hard at the log as the wave washes up around it.

You think you feel it move, a little bit. But then the water recedes, and you scramble back to the kid, and as soon as his head breaks the surface, he howls in pain. “My leg!”

You must have rolled the log back on it – or forward, or something. “We need a bigger wave.”

Tenko shakes his head. He looks like he’s going to be sick. You can hear sirens in the distance, but they’re too far away. The kid is screaming, clawing at your shirt, and you struggle to comfort him, promising that help is coming, promising it’ll be okay. It doesn’t work, or else what happened to his leg in your failed attempt to move the log is worse than you thought, because his eyes roll up in his head and he goes boneless in your grip. You shake him, terrified, desperate to keep his head above water as another wave crashes against your back. He’s going to die. A kid is going to die while you’re holding him, and there’s nothing you can do.

You can’t look at his pale, slackened face a second longer. You look up instead, and that’s when you see the solitary crack running across the log’s surface.

It wasn’t there before, and now it’s not alone. One crack turns into a dozen, and dozens more, spreading and colliding with each other until the log simply crumbles away, leaving nothing in its place. Nothing except Tenko on the other side, both hands outstretched – and ungloved.

Something twists in the back of your mind, but the kid is free now, and the tide is still coming in. You start dragging him up the beach, trying to get clear of the high-tide line. A quick glance at his leg shows you that it’s broken, badly, but you can’t worry about it now, or get lost in the fact that it’s your fault. The two of you make it onto dry sand just in time for a trio of paramedics to race down the beach, carrying a stretcher and pursued by five or six terrified people. “What happened?”

“He got – stuck,” you manage. Your teeth are chattering. You aren’t even that cold. “Is he going to be okay?”

The paramedics have questions for you, even as they shoo you out of the way. Did he swallow water? Yes. Did he breathe water in? You don’t know. How long has he been unconscious? A minute, maybe less. Time feels uneven, unreal. You don’t have a clue what’s going on, and you stand blankly off to one side, unsure whether you’re supposed to stay or go. Maybe you can go. Everybody knows where to find you if they have questions, and you’ll calm down faster if you and Tenko can –

Tenko’s not standing next to you. You look up and down the beach, but you can’t see him anywhere.

Maybe emergency services scared him off. He booked it pretty fast at the sight of Present Mic. You pull your phone out of your pocket to text him, but your phone’s dripping wet and unresponsive. Now you really need to get home, and maybe Tenko’s there already. He saved someone’s life. If he’s freaked out even slightly as much as you are, you want to be with him.

But something is nagging at you as you speed-walk back through town, something about Tenko’s quirk. You never asked what it was, but the gloves were enough for you to infer that it had something to do with his hands. And maybe he doesn’t feel all that comfortable with it. You wouldn’t either, if you had a quirk like that. The way it looked, how fast it moved – it was almost like –

You stop dead in your tracks on the side of the road. Tenko’s gloves. His red eyes. His dyed hair and scarred face and mangled hands, and a quirk that lets him destroy things he touches. Even their initials are the same. Shimura Tenko, and. And. Your mind won’t let you finish the thought. You won’t let yourself jump to conclusions like that. You need to be sure. You force yourself into motion, back to a speed-walk. Then into a run.

Back at home, you drop your phone in a bowl of rice and sit down at the kitchen table with your laptop without bothering to change out of your wet clothes. You haven’t been a criminal in half a decade, but you still know how to search the internet like one. This isn’t dark-web level, and it’s not illegal, but you could raise red flags, and if you’re right – you connect to a VPN, open a web browser you’ve never used before, set your cache to empty every five minutes, and type in your first query.

‘shigaraki tomura quirk’ gets you a long list. You have to scroll all the way to the bottom of the first page you click on to find the quirk you’re thinking of, and when you read the description, your heart sinks. You navigate away from the webpage and type in a new prompt. ‘shigaraki tomura decay’ gets you more pages analyzing the quirk itself, all of which feel unnecessary and unhelpful. You know what Decay is. You need to know what it looked like. You modify the search. ‘shigaraki tomura decay video’.

YouTube has nothing, courtesy of aggressive content moderation. You dig a little deeper, finding lesser-known, sketchier hosting sites, and the first video that pops up is of the destruction of Jaku City, at the very beginning of the war. It happens so quickly – too quickly to see anything except the way the buildings implode into nothing. You need an up-close view, so you modify your search, scrolling past video after blurry video until you find one tagged as part of the Deika City massacre.

The quality looks okay. You click on it and find yourself watching a group of people thundering up a street, headed for something just out of frame. A moment later, whatever it is ducks through the corner of the frame. A pale hand rises up, making contact with the face of one of the people in the group. And then you see it. Cracks spreading across their face, just a few at first, and then they spread so rapidly that the person simply falls apart where they stand.

You just watched a snuff film, but that’s not what makes you recoil. What Shigaraki Tomura did to the person in that video is the same thing Tenko did to the log on the beach. It’s the same quirk. They’re the same man.

Tenko’s hair is dyed, and it’s not dyed well. You never asked what his natural color is, but you’re betting it’s white, which is why there’s no way he can get someone else to color it for him. If he walked into a salon with white hair, red eyes, no eyebrows, and a scar over his right eye, there’s not a person in Japan who wouldn’t recognize him instantly.

You type in another query: ‘shigaraki tomura face’. It turns up a lot of photos of him with the signature hand over his face, but you get at least one without it, and the reason why he wears a mask all the time becomes clear in an instant. No eyebrows – happens. Plenty of people have red eyes. But add in the scar over the left side of Tenko’s lips, a scar you ran your thumb over last night, and the birthmark Shigaraki has just below the right corner of his mouth, and he’d be unmistakable. No matter how many bad dye jobs he did on his hair.

You shut the lid of your laptop with shaking hands and sit back in your chair. Shimura Tenko, your regular customer, who slept over last night, who you like and who likes you, is the same person as Shigaraki Tomura, an unrepentant supervillain who’s been dead for five years. It doesn’t make any sense. If Shigaraki had survived the war, he’d be in maximum-security prison for the rest of his life, not beta-testing video games and hanging out in your coffee shop. Shigaraki Tomura is dead. You met the hero who killed him.

Or did he? You remember thinking how odd it was that Deku kept referring to Shigaraki watching what he was doing, wishing he could talk to him. You remember what he said when Spinner asked about Shigaraki’s ashes: There was nothing left of Shigaraki Tomura. But somebody else walked away from that fight, and he’s got Shigaraki’s quirk – and the only time you’ve seen him use it, it was to save someone’s life. You can’t say for sure, but the circumstantial evidence is compelling as hell. You know who Shimura Tenko is. And you’re halfway convinced he used to be Shigaraki Tomura.

You fish your phone out of the bowl of rice to check if it’s working yet. It isn’t. You’re going to have to wait a little longer to reach out to Tenko. His backpack and laptop are still here. He’ll be back for them, probably tonight – and if not, you’ll see him at the café tomorrow, and you can give it to him then. And when you see him again, you can sort this out. There’s nothing else you can do right now.

You tell yourself that, make yourself believe it, and spend the rest of your one day off every week getting your chores done. And even though it’s been an exhausting twenty-four hours, even though there’s nothing you can do, you still toss and turn through the night, thinking about Tenko. Worrying about him. Wondering who he was before this, and wondering at how little it matters to you.

#shigaraki tomura x reader #tomura shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki x you #shigaraki tomura #x reader #reader insert #coffee shop rehab fic #man door hand hook car door #a bisquared production

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