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forthelostones · 2 days ago

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𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 ➺ 𝚓𝚘𝚞𝚛𝚗𝚊𝚕 𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚛𝚢 #𝟽

anderson construction and landscaping had been parked outside your door since you returned home from university. as if the summer couldn't get any hotter, the business owner works overtime in your area. anderson is collecting new, loyal clients of your neighbors, cementing her permanence in your life for the next few months. what's to come of your girlish crush when she keeps showing up?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜. 18+ (mdni); age-gap, young!reader, older!abby, butch!abby, slow-burn, suggestive language, thoughts of infidelity, ellie ft, smoking/drinking, mentions of parents, nickname: sweetheart, and modern au.

𝚊𝚗. omg hello, what...

♫ 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝. willow by renee♫

What was I doing? Showing my old photos like I was a proud parent embarrassing my child before a first date. I let my hand linger on the my bedroom doorknob before finally retreating. My cheeks filled with girlish warmth as I press my palms into my face and try to shake away everything that happened but I can’t. I replay her laugh and innocent curiosity at my past. Her fingers tracing me out on the worn plastic sheet and deep down I wanted nothing more than for those same fingers to feather over my belly into my waistband. I was making a mistake, but damn it felt so good.

As my phone lit up from my nightstand with a followup from her arrival text, I couldn’t help but smile.

10:00 p.m: parents were wondering if you wanted to come over for a bbq after work?

10:04 p.m: I have a consultation on the other side of town tomorrow.

….

10:10 p.m: But maybe I can stop by at the tail end of the night and play bartender?

10:12 p.m: really? that would be really nice but we can save you some food and you not have to worry about working even more.

So, all day as my new client was showing me the specs of her home I was buzzing nonstop. Bobbing my leg up and down, missing out on important structural details, and checking my phone constantly — this was highly unlike me. I would have to go home, change, and pack up some good liquor that would go with the assumed spread of food. Everyone loves margaritas, right? Besides this, my team was sending me constant updates of the new build up the road and I wanted to check their work before retreating for the night. I was moving at seventy miles per hour with no end in sight.

“Well, that’s it. Now we know that’s a huge ask for a crew your size but I expect it to take a while.” She smiled.

My new client, Henrietta, was a 70-year old widow who was trying to find a way to spice up her home for her daughter, in hopes of encouraging her to move back in. I think it’s sweet but a large ask for anyone to make.

“We can make it happen. Now,” I check my watch. “We’ve kind of gone over time but that’s alright, are you okay if I stop in tomorrow and you invite your daughter so we can all talk?”

“Absolutely, I’ll tell her to wear something form fitting too!” She screeched silently sizing me up.

“Huh?” I giggle nervously.

“I mean, I was fast in clubs and what not in New York, I know a lesbian when I see one. And my daughter is available and around your age. You do like Black girls don’t ya?” She sighs.

“Yes ma’am, I do."

“Then it’s a date.”

This day was going on far longer than I imagined and at this rate all the guests would be bbq’d out and not open to drinks. Henrietta was sweet but I can’t help but think that she was a little lonely without her husband around as she went through every room, describing the memories they shared. Once she sends me on my way and I nearly speed through traffic for a 35-minute haul to the opposite side of town.

6:30 pm: Hey, on my way.

I got no reply and didn’t have time to wait for one. I pulled my hair up into a bun on the top of my head while I lather my body down with my loofa and watch the grayish water sliver down the drain. I accompany my clean body with a subtle vanilla lotion and spritz of soft piney cologne. I took a bit of gel to my roots to smooth it down into a low pony and weaved in a thick braid, my grey hairs more prominent than ever before. I sigh as I recall how similar I look to Dad.

I reach in my skincare cabinet and smooth out my under eyes with a bit of cold cream followed by a handful of facial moisturizer. All of this to come home sweaty again and in need of the same routine. My stomach tightened with an uncommon feeling, like I was preparing myself for a date and not mellowing in the late night summer humidity. On the way home I knew I wouldn’t have much time to go through outfits so I thought of one that was easy enough to accommodate me. I fingered through my closet for a pair of black bootcut jeans and a medium sized heavy cotton white shirt that fell just below my belly button. To polish it off I slipped on my old red Chucks and forced a smile onto my face with the help of the tight pony.

My travel bag with my mixers and tools clattered on the passenger seat. I wipe my forehead quickly from the sudden change in temperature surrounding me. More speeding and hastily smashed breaks and I finally arrived on the street but not before I take a look at the house on the corner. We should complete it in two months time now. I step out of the car and clip my keys on my belt loop and begin to admire the polished work of my men. Obviously the darkness can hide some imperfections but from where I was standing it looked fine. I decided to leave my truck parked in its normal position as I noted a few unfamiliar cars were still lined up outside. My anxiety quickly manifest into a ping of hope that I would get to serve some people and satisfy them, one in particular.

I toss my bag over my shoulder and walk a few feet down on the sidewalk. The clamoring of voices and music fluttered throughout the normally quiet neighborhood. All the lights were on in the house as I walked up the driveway to the backyard where uptight men stood in shorts and polos when I knew their bodies were meant for suits. They were clearly colleagues of my clients. I give an awkward wave over to them who stand speaking to each other in frank voices, laughs smothered in generational wealth. They were surrounded by the glare of tiki torches and large, yellow-bulbed string lights, and the low rolling of a fire pit nestled in between patio furniture.

“Anderson, thanks for stopping by!” The rightful homeowner said in his plain voice.

I reach out to toss him a hand and he shakes it and fetches a beer for me almost out of thin air, popping the top off instantly.

“No problem, hope I’m not too late to make everyone at least one cocktail before they go?” I sip.

“Perfect timing.” His wife says as she trots outside in light blue capri’s and a casual button down.

I tell them I have tequila and vodka and many limes so they had a choice between a mule or margarita. The small crowd of eight were 2 and 6, many margaritas and only a few mules. I slide through the doors into the kitchen and lay my items down strategically, everything in perfect reach.

A door closes and my concentration breaks to find her standing in a peachy halter top, her breasts held up firmly against it and a tight, chocolate brown tennis skirt. Once my brain registers that my gaze has wandered up down the length of her body, I find her eyes. “Hey,” is all I can manage to say.

“Oh, hi there.” She grins almost as if she could read my mind.

In her right hand is a mixed drink of some sort, looks as if it has a bit of cognac and a sparkling element.

“I rushed to get here, glad there’s still a crowd.” I tip my head over to the backyard.

“You’ve saved me from the crowd. I hate my parents work friends, well usually because I’m the last minute errand girl.”

“Seems like you’re compensating for that just fine.”

She brings the glass to her mouth and shrugs, the liquid fizzing as she inhales.

“I told you not to do all of this and your plate is in the oven. I gave you a bit of everything because I didn’t know what you liked.”

A beat falls between us, comfortable but taunting. So provoking that I had no choice but to turn away and rinse off my utensils. “Are you fit to chop some limes?” I question.

“I’m not drunk Ms. Anderson, I can do that just fine.”

“What is in that cup anyway?”

"Crown and sprite, here.”

She reaches out to me, so causally, as if we had been doing this jive for years. I accept, almost fearful with a slight tremor lying beyond my movements. Our eyes meet and just for a second those eyes drew low and she followed the liquid slither down my throat.

“Hm.” Is all I could manage when the warm liquid hit the bottom of my rumbling stomach, highlighting the fact that I haven’t eaten all day.

She walks over to the oven and pull out a wide white, ceramic plate with brown sugar glazed ribs, brisket, a side of coleslaw, baked beans, and mac & cheese, all in separate containers. My eyes grew wide instantly and I look up to her grinning proudly.

“So, which part of this did you do?”

“I did the brisket, it’s my speciality.” She sips proudly.

She kindly reheats the meal and I finish garnishing all of the drinks and delivering them. By the time the small talk is over, I am left in the kitchen with a fresh meal waiting for me to devour it. The last time someone cooked for me was so long ago that I couldn’t even remember what or who it was. Most nights I enjoyed a jarred sauce and store-bought pasta noodles. I didn’t even have enough bravery to purchase a grill and here she was cooking brisket. To be fair, I didn’t come from a family that hosted anyone, we're very recluse, so being in an environment like this is really off-putting. I place a napkin over myself out of fear, and began eating as she caught up on conversation with her mom.

I had one beer and two margaritas on hand as I sucked the sauce off my fingers, I rubbed my belly and tossed my head back. I was spiraling in bliss. Once I grew the strength to compliment and thank the chefs for my meal I dabble in small talk before all the guests leave. Discussing my new builds and the expansion of the company to be becoming hands-off. Two of the guests mentioned they will contact me for future information and I pass them my business card proudly.

Moments later I realize only my clients were left and they began cleaning the outdoor space and turning off lights to retreat inside. She changed into boy shorts and a loose fitting tee shirt rolled up to the shoulder, collecting dishes. I sat on the patio furniture, looking up as if there were stars, and sipping on the last drop of my drink. When I heard the sliding door close my heart jumped, now I had her full undivided attention.

“I think you work too much.”

I feel the weight of the cushion shift under me and suddenly I’m afraid to see how close she is but her voice is so clear, so she’s not far.

“Life.”

“No, I seriously do, I mean why couldn’t you just come over to enjoy yourself and relax and talk with potential clients?”

“I think my pitch sounds better when there’s alcohol involved.” I smile.

I turn and see she’s farther than I imagined but just close enough to where her features come into full view. She just grins, twirling a singular thread between her fingertips, concentrating on that instead of me.

“How did the meeting go?” She asked.

“She set me up on a date with her daughter.”

“Oh wow. That is one way to double your profits. Is she cute at least?”

“We will see, I go back tomorrow midday and meet her,”

She pulled her lips into her mouth and nodded her head slowly.

“What?” I ask.

Gradually, a strict warmth travel from my stomach to my eyes, causing my blinks to slow down. My right ear clogs slightly and that’s how I know I made this drink a bit too strong.

“I don’t think I should be talking to my boss about her relationships.”

“Whatever. It’s not a relationship, I actually would have never said that in any other circumstance. But right now, I believe I am unable to drive home.”

She jolts up and leans into me.

“Abigail Anderson are you drunk?” She whispers.

“No, no I am tipsy. Tipsy. Final answer.”

She smacks her strawberry glossed lips and crosses her arms leaning back into her spot.

“I think the only thing for me to do is drive you home ma’am.”

“What? No. I couldn’t ask you to do that. I can grab a taxi and be back in the morning before I maybe get towed. What are the overnight rules here?” My face turns hot at the thought of my cherry red in the impound lot.

“I will drive you home and call a friend for a ride. Easy.” She lifts the glass out my hand, her our fingers making brief contact almost making me sigh out loud. When was the last time I felt a woman’s touch? Easily years, even since my breakup. As I stood up I felt a weight pull on my hips wishing me to sit back down, never in a million years would I assume that I would suddenly become a lightweight.

“What’s your driving record?” I panic.

“Never been in an accident before and plus I got points deducted off of my test for going too slow, so if that helps…”

It was weird sitting in the passenger seat listening to the phone scream out the directions to my place. Time moved too fast but then again not at all. Once the engine came to a halt I inhaled and found myself being courted into my bedroom by my new assistant.

“Do you need to change before lying in your bed?” She asks.

“Yes, but I am okay now, why don’t you call your ride?”

She gently closes the door and I scramble for my pajamas tucked under my pillow. I pull up my boxers and nightshirt and unfurl my body underneath the covers. The air conditioning is at the perfect level and the warmth of my duvet compliments it perfectly. The door slowly creeks open and she comes to me with a glass of water with ice.

“Do you want to take your hair down?” She asks.

I completely forgot, the tightness of this will only make my headache worse in the morning. So I tug at the two ponytail holders but struggled and yank at my hair. Her hand rises gently and begins unraveling them to place them on my nightstand.

“Goodnight Abigail.”

#abby x reader #abby smut #abby anderson tlou2 #abby the last of us #abby anderson #tlou abby #wlw and nblw only #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson fanfic #abby anderson x you

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takeshitakyuuto · 2 years ago

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Life is so cruel because Kino no Tabi is so good but I can’t even recommend the books to anyone because only the first volume was ever translated and it’s been out of print for presumably over a decade. Plus part of what makes it so good are untranslatable (into English) qualities of the Japanese language such as the general avoidance of gendering Kino. What other book has a motorcycle get into an argument with a dog

#apparently the theory is that the jp publishers got mad that the English publishers changed the chapter order #which tbh I understand I really do #honestly I hate it when kino’s backstory is presented first because it doesn’t allow you to form your own opinions on them beforehand #kino no Tabi #kino’s journey #taking matters into my own hands and translating it myself to put online for all to read #I mean hey that’s what happened with no. 6 right #I still can’t believe that one never got licensed in English #like it definitely had the popularity back when the anime came out #and the manga is fully translated #why not the novels #I still need to read them though that’s gonna be my summer project #kino no Tabi rewired my brain I’ve never felt so capable of reading in Japanese before #I mean sometimes it still kicks my ass but in general I’m having a reasonable time with it language wise

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tonycries · 3 months ago

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My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year.

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room.

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time.

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t?

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being.

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast.

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal.

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t.

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here.

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face.

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison.

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles.

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?”

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt.

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards.

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet.

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.”

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right.

Shit.

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing.

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?”

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck.

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer.

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And-

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips.

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already.

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy.

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning.

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans.

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open.

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it.

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it.

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours.

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt.

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that.

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched.

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked - translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it.

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?”

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy.

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl.

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big.

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing.

It made your mouth water.

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it.

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice.

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt.

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots.

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest.

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm.

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else.

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content.

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-”

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point.

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close.

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll.

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said.

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you.

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to.

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see.

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip.

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan.

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That.

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise.

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him.

Exactly how he’s been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit.

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words.

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees.

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches.

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once.

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling.

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base.

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna.

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath.

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t.

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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tardis--dreams · 5 months ago

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Gotta talk to the department boss tomorrow because i asked for opportunities to increase my work hours. I regret it already but i can't back out now so this is gonna be fun (:

#I'll probably say I'd be happy to stay in my current contract until next february and then I'd be happy to do something more challenging/#work more hours #because i generally would love to work more but with my current health insurance it's not allowed and if i switch #to a different position i will no longer be able to help the others the way i am currently doing and that would be unfair #considering i only started 6 months ago and i don't want to work more if it means the Others also have to work more #maybe I'll just quit/fake my death and never show up there again instead (:#i really don't want to have this conversation ahhhh #it's so embarrassing #but i guess it's an opportunity to talk about a potential future full time position for me there #because i really need some sort of plan for what happens after i'm excluded from student health insurance next year #not because I'll have finished my degree but because I'll be too old 🤡#and if i don't have a job it's gonna be too expensive to live lol #I'll also have to pay for rent myself then so the current income won't suffice ahahah #also my coworker said something about 'salary expectations' and i cannot stress enough how much i do not want to have to talk about that #because hey. i get minimum wage rn. if i was still working at the university I'd get 2 Euros more per hour #if i worked in a supermarket I'd probably get even more (which is fair considering the horrors people working there are facing)#but as i currently don't even have a masters degree and probably can't work as an editor right away #and his company is dirt poor (as it seems. it likes to pretend otherwise but the salary is shit even for experienced employees)#an actually appropriate salary expectation won't be appreciated lol #also i just read that trainees aren't entitled to minimum wage??? apparently? so I'd probably get Less money??#i would probably really just quit and take the next best job i can get at university until i finish my degree #and then enter my career in customer service and kill myself before i turn 35 because it's just not worth the pain #jesus christ why did i bring it up #digging my own grave here #void screams #work stuff

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cozage · 1 year ago

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hii!! can i request for the event?? had this weird little scenario where a little kid goes up to reader, completely in love and confessing their love (even tho reader doesnt know who this little kid is) and the op men just look at what's happening with either a "😬" or "😠" reaction. any characters for this scenario would work but if you could put zoro as part of the 3 that would be great

Child Crushes Send me an event request!

Characters: fem reader x Zoro, Sanji, Shanks Total word count: 600

Zoro

“You are so beautiful!” A child screamed, slamming into you and wrapping his arms around your midrift tightly. “I love you!”

“Hey!” Zoro shouted, reaching for the kid. “Get off her!”

“Zoro!” you chided, shielding the kid from your boyfriend's wrath. “It’s okay!”

“You are the most amazing lady I’ve ever seen! Your smile is radiant, and you are kinder than anyone I’ve ever met!”

You laughed, slowly prying the kid off of you. You were about to bend down to talk to him, but Zoro beat you to it.

“Listen brat,” he hissed. “Go find another beautiful lady! This one is mine.”

The kid stuck his tongue at Zoro. “If you keep being so mean, she’ll leave you for a real man like me!”

“What did you-!”

“Zoro, stop!” you giggled, pulling him away. You looked back at the little boy, giving him a wink. “It was nice to meet you!”

“I’ll see you soon, lovely lady!”

You intertwined your arm with Zoro’s again, laughing at his outburst. “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“He reminded me of that stupid cook,” Zoro groaned. “Besides, that kid needs to buzz off. You’re already taken.”

Sanji

“Excuse me miss,” a small voice came from behind you, and you turned around.

He was young. Probably around 6 or 7, with caramel brown hair and clear blue eyes.

“Hi there,” you said, breaking away from Sanji’s hold so you could squat down so you were at eye level with him.

“I just wanted to tell you are the most beautiful woman alive.” He held out a wildflower with small white petals. “Will you marry me?”

You giggled at his request. His bluntness reminded you of someone else you knew.

“I’m flattered. How about you come find me when you’re older?” you challenged.

He pushed the flower into your hands. “I will. I’ll never forget you! Until then, here’s something to remember me by!”

He took off, his cheeks pink with embarrassment. You laughed and stood up, your hand returning to Sanji’s.

“You have competition,” you teased.

Sanji hummed pleasantly, placing a soft kiss on your cheek. “He has good taste in women. Can’t argue with that.”

Shanks

You unfolded the note the little boy had given you and read the scribbles across the paper.

Please make my day and kiss me. You are so beautiful and kind. I love you.

Shanks peered over your shoulder, looking at the note, and burst out into laughter.

“Shanks!” you scolded under your breath. “Don’t laugh!”

“Look kid, only a real man gets to kiss this lady.” He planted a messy kiss on your cheek to prove his point.

The kid looked at you and him, and then ran off.

“Shanks!”

“He’ll be back, don’t worry.”

Shanks was right. A few hours later, the kid was standing at the end of the bar, peeking out and watching you from afar.

“You wanna impress her?” Shanks asked, creeping up behind the boy. “Give her a rose and ask her for a kiss. To her face. Like a man.”

“Will that work?” the boy whispered, glancing back at you nervously.

“That’s how I got her to kiss me,” he admitted. “Good news for you, I even have a spare rose.”

The little boy walked up to you, his knees visibly shaking as he gripped the rose in his hands.

“I got this for you,” he said softly. “Will you kiss me?”

Your eyes darted to Shanks, a smile dancing across your lips.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the flower from him and giving him a small peck on the cheek. “I’d be honored to kiss such a polite young man.”

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lynxgriffin · 7 months ago

Text

Eldritchrune - Dreemurr of Demons

1 | 2 | 3

Story Setup Eldritchrune Masterpost

Asriel ventures back to Hometown while on the trail of trying to find out what happened to Kris, and stumbles across an unusual man who's all too excited to share his demon-warding knowledge! But it's unclear so far whether this knowledge will actually be of help to him...

Yaaay all done with this series back with the Dreemurrs! This one was definitely the longest, but also had some important info! What I'll tackle next is a mystery to me right now...

Alt text for these pages is under the read more:

Page 1 Panel 1: Exterior shot of a back alley in Hometown, with old barrels and boxes stacked behind medieval buildings. Asriel walks down the alley, wearing a striped shirt, glasses and scruffy blond hair, and carrying a large canvas bag over his shoulders. The annoying dog trots happily beside him.

Panel 2: The annoying dog drops his nose to the ground, sniffing at some interesting smell.

Panel 3: The dog bounds off ahead of Asriel to a haphazard collection of trinkets, boxes, jars and displayed charms, all partially covered with colorful cloths. A man is kneeling under one of the tent setups. Asriel walks to catch up with the dog, asking, "What's got your interest this time, dog?"

Panel 4: The man pops up from his odd collection and turns to Asriel with arms spread and a big smile. He has short curly hair, and is dressed in a medieval robe with a cape slung over his shoulders, and bone designs in his sleeve cuffs. He answers, "Just the finest assortment of handmade charms and magical meals made by yours truly, THE GREAT PAPYRUS!" The dog happily circles Papyrus, tail wagging.

Panel 5: Asriel is a bit taken aback by the introduction, but waves in greeting anyway, and responds with "…Oh! Howdy!" The dog sits in front of Papyrus, panting and wagging his tail.

Page 2 Panel 1: Papyrus leans down with a big grin to pet the dog and ruffle its face. "What a bright and clever fellow! Such a sweet face!"

Panel 2: "You're a good, good boy, aren't you?" Papyrus continues. However, the dog glances over to the side, as something has got his attention:

Panel 3: It's one of the charms Papyrus has on display: a large femur bone decorated with paint, beads and feathers.

Panel 4: The dog leaps up and snatches the charm in its mouth. Papyrus looks agape at this thievery, eyes cartoonishly wide. "Wh-HEY! That's my SPECIAL demon-warding charm!"

Panel 5: The dog goes running off further into the alley, the bone still in its mouth. Papyrus shakes his fist at it and yells after it: "You thieving scoundrel! I take back all the nice things I said about you!"

Panel 6: Papyrus quickly turns back to Asriel with a more apologetic look; even now he can't be too mean. He says, "I apologize, I didn't mean to yell at your dog. I'm sure he's normally better behaved!" Asriel waves off the apology with tired bemusement. "No, it's fine. He's not really my dog." Under his breath, he adds, "He just keeps following me around for some reason…"

Panel 7: Papyrus stands back up and gestures to his odd collection. "In any case, you at least are welcome to my little shop-in-the-works!"

Page 3 Panel 1: Papyrus leans in close to Asriel, observing him, and getting a bit into his personal space. "You look a little familiar, though! Are you perhaps related to Mr. Dreemurr?" Asriel nervously adjusts his glasses, and replies, "Heh, yes. I'm Asriel, his son."

Panel 2: Asriel holds up a hand and gives a little sideeye to the alley around them. "But, uh…I actually don't want my parents to know that I'm back in town, so I'd appreciate you keeping quiet about me being here."

Panel 3: Papyrus mirrors that sideeye, hands on his hips, as if recalling some recent incident. "Ahh…I know well the trials of avoiding family. Especially when they decide to try out some terrible new jokes."

Panel 4: Papyrus makes a lip-zipping motion with his hand and mouth. "Not to worry, my lips are sealed!" Asriel smiles back, and says, "Thanks, I appreciate it."

Panel 5: A wider shot of the two still standing within Papyrus's collection of tents and trinkets. Papyrus asks, "So, if it's not to see your folks, what brings you back around Hometown?" Asriel glances around them, and replies, "I'm looking for something. Or well…kinda hoping I don't find something here."

Page 4 Panel 1: Papyrus points up one finger, looking as if he's already solved this problem. "If you don't want to find it, then looking for it seems rather counterintuitive!"

Panel 2: Asriel looks a little taken aback by that logic. "Yes, well… Okay you have a point, but…"

Panel 3: Asriel keeps glancing behind him, as if expecting to see someone there. "This is kind of the next step in a trail of research I've been doing."

Panel 4: Papyrus puts a hand to a chest and puffs himself up, imitating his heroic poses from Undertale. "Well, if your research involves handmade charms and tasty foods both designed to ward off demons, evil spirits and the like… Then I'll be your most cited source!"

Panel 5: Asriel crosses his arms and raises his eyebrows, intrigued by this. "Really."

Panel 6: "You know a lot about demons, huh?" Asriel asks as he sits himself on one of the rugs within the tent setup. Papyrus keeps up his self-congratulatory pose. "I, the Great Papyrus, am a bonafide expert in such subjects! Sad that so few around here seem to recognize my talents."

Page 5 Panel 1: Asriel holds his hands up, willing to follow this strange thread wherever it might lead. "Well, I've got a question that all my research hasn't been able to answer for me, so perhaps you can…"

Panel 2: A pause as Asriel holds on to his thoughts, hands closed in front of his face. Papyrus sits down on the rug across from him.

Panel 3: Asriel lowers his hands, his face deeply serious. "How do you kill a demon?"

Panel 4: Papyrus looks back at him with an equally serious expression, then…

Panel 5: The seriousness is gone as he gives a casual shrug, and gives an answer. "Oh, that's simple. You don't!"

Panel 6: Asriel looks a little bit baffled, and disappointed. "…You don't?"

Panel 7: "No, silly. They're immortal, like angels!" Papyrus keeps up the casual shrug, as if this information is obvious.

Panel 8: However, Papyrus then seems to become aware of why this is being asked. He looks around the area frantically, his head whipping back and forth. "Why?! Are there demons around here that my detection flatbreads missed?!" Asriel offers an amused smile back. "Heehee… no, I don't think so."

Page 6 Panel 1: The seriousness returns to Asriel's face as he scratches at his nose, lost in worried thought. "I just…have this real bad hunch. I'm trying to prepare myself for all potential outcomes."

Panel 2: Papyrus ignores the seriousness of the situation, and just seems impressed. "Preparation! The hallmark of the truly intelligent!"

Panel 3: Asriel is still set on getting some information, and continues his questions. "Thanks. So, if you can't kill them, what do you do about them?" Papyrus holds up a finger again, happy to keep explaining: "Well, you got two options! First, you can banish them back to their own plane!"

Panel 4: Papyrus continues, "However, that's really only the ideal option if you're the one that summoned them in the first place. Otherwise it's a whole ordeal." In the background, Papyrus's point is illustrated with a little graphic of a cult member holding up a hand in rejection of a demon within a summoning circle. The demon looks confused and perturbed by the rejection.

Panel 5: Asriel says, "I see. What's the other option?" Papyrus continues his explanation across the two panels: "You bind the demon to something! Quickest and easiest thing to do is bind them to an object! Buuut, problem with that is, if your object gets broken or destroyed, now your demon's free and even angrier than before."

Panel 6: To illustrate his point, another background graphic shows a shocked human with a broken jar in front of them. A demon rises out of the remains of the broken jar, looking angry and ready to strike.

Page 7 Panel 1: Papyrus again continues his explanation across two panels. "Hardest and most time-consuming thing to do is to bind them to a place! Good option if you have the prep time, but then you can't really use that place anymore. Better pick a restaurant you hate and hope no one there minds you standing outside it chanting for three days straight."

Panel 2: To illustrate his point further, a scene (perhaps a flashback) shows Papyrus with his arms raised outside of a restaurant, supposedly chanting angrily at it, while another person stares back at him from the doorway, hands on their hips in annoyance.

Panel 3: Asriel watches as Papyrus finishes up the rest of his explanation: "Aaaand, last thing you can do is…bind the demon to a person! Which…"

Panel 4: Papyrus stops suddenly. For the first time, he looks actually disturbed and hesitant.

Panel 5: Asriel watches quizzically, waiting for him to continue.

Panel 6: When he doesn't continue, Asriel tries to prompt him on, tilting his head towards him. "…And?"

Panel 7: Papyrus quickly waves his hands in front of him, smiling nervously, clearly trying to dismiss the whole idea. "But you know, we don't need to go into the details of that!"

Panel 8: Asriel says nothing, but remains in nervous thought, one hand covering his mouth. It's clear that this is sticking in his mind the most.

Page 8 Panel 1: Asriel remains sitting with a hand to his chin in thought, but Papyrus has moved on to better advice. "But as I always say, an ounce of prevention's worth a pound of cure! You're much better off trying one of my charms or meals to-go!"

Panel 2: Asriel lets himself smile more at this suggestion. "Y'know? I'm sold. And also a bit hungry."

Panel 3: Asriel gets up, and drops a handful of coins into Papyrus's open hand, which Papyrus looks at in surprise. Asriel says, "Give me your best demon-warding meal."

Panel 4: Papyrus stares down at the coins in his hand, his eyes cartoonishly big and shiny, full of excitement. "WOWIE!! My FIRST ever sale!" he says with a big smile.

Panel 5: Papyrus leaps up and begins to rummage through some of the boxes and barrels around his collection. "This calls for my finest delicacy!" Asriel watches him from a few steps back, and mutters under his breath, "…First ever?…"

Page 9 Panel 1: Papyrus straightens back up, gesturing to a small sack that he is holding in one hand. He looks pleased with himself. "Spiced candied yam bites, from my home country!"

Panel 2: "Each one will purge you of evil spirits for a whole ten hours!" he continues. He hands the small sack off to Asriel, who takes it from him and says, "Sounds like a good deal." In the background, the annoying dog pops back up from behind some other boxes, holding something in its mouth.

Panel 3: Asriel hefts the bag over his shoulder again, and holds up the sack of treats in acknowledgement of the exchange. "Well, I know where to come if I need more info and good charms."

Panel 4: Papyrus stands proud, both hands on his hips, happy at being able to spout off his knowledge to a stranger. "Yes, yes! Tell all your friends about the fantastic advice and the culinary masterworks of the Great Papyrus!" he says excitedly.

Panel 5: Asriel heads off back into the alleyways, and waves goodbye to Papyrus. The annoying dog follows close behind his steps. Papyrus enthusiastically waves to the two as they leave, and says, "Safe travels to you and your annoying dog!"

Page 10 Panel 1: Papyrus turns back to his collection of trinkets and boxes with a determined look, hands on his hips. "And now to see where that criminal canine buried my special charm…" he says to himself.

Panel 2: While continuing on through the alleyways, Asriel opens the small sack and pulls out one of the candied yam bites.

Panel 3: Asriel glances back down at the dog, and notices that he's carrying something that's making a tinking noise. It's partially hidden from view. "Oh boy, what did you steal now?" he asks with a wry smile.

Panel 4: Asriel takes the yam bite and pops it into his mouth with a crunch…

Panel 5: …Only to then make a face, his eyes wide and his mouth scrunched up, as if tasting something indescribable.

Panel 6: "What IS this flavor?" Asriel asks to himself, although all but his back foot are off-panel. The focus is on the annoying dog, who is shown to be carrying a strange, heart-shaped metal lantern on a chain.

#lynx art #eldritchrune #deltarune au #asriel #papyrus #annoying dog #honestly a tough one to write since neither of these guys have actually shown up in canon DR yet #so uh! Hopefully pulling from what we know from UT is a good enough source!#but they are definitely fun to play off of each other #annoying dog what secrets are you keeping now

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wonderjanga · 3 months ago

Text

Marvel is Kryptonian

This takes place when both of them are first starting out. Clark started first. Then, the bubble popped. Now, since this is early in Supes’ career, that means, sure, there are other heroes around, but none else in Metropolis. So, when he heard of a hero that recently popped up who was suspected by the media to be related to him, he grew curious. He was even more curious when he found out the guy had similar powers to him, not to mention they looked alike. So, when he’s at work, writing a paper, imagine his surprise when he sees many people crowding around one of the tvs in the lounge. Lo and behold Captain Marvel, the guy he’s been hearing about is on live, fighting a giant monster somewhere in Kansas— wait a darn minute, he’s right next to Smallville. Looks like this is a job for Superman.

When Supes gets there, the monster goes down with one final punch from the Captain. When Clark saw the man floating, wearing a warm smile with his cape billowing in the wind, he was struck with the idea that maybe, just maybe they could be related after all.

Marvel: *notices Supes and gives a little wave, torn between wondering if Clark is another hero, or a dude who just happens to be wearing spandex*

Superman: *Flies up to him* “Hey.” *awkward*

Marvel: “Hey?” *also awkward*

*awkward silence of two super powered dudes floating mid-air*

Superman: “Right! Uh- Kal-El.” *offers handshake*

Marvel: *wondering what a “Kal-El” is* “I’m Captain Marvel? Or Marvel? Or Cap? You can call me whatever.” *shakes hand*

Superman: *little disappointed Marvel didn’t respond with his own Kryptonian name. Then says some form of greeting in Kryptonian*

Marvel: *confused at the sudden gibberish from the other man until Solomon translated it for him. Responds back also in Kryptonian*

Superman: *face lights up brighter than the sun*

They got burgers after that. They became super good friends after that too! I mean, sure, Clark’s new friend hasn’t really told him anything about himself yet, but that was fine! Marvel’s super nice, and he’s always willing to help the Kryptonian if Clark needs it. I mean for Rao’s sake, when he got mind controlled for the first time, the Captain was the one who held him off. Then when all was set and done he took Clark to get ice cream. (Buddy doesn’t know he’s boarding the Dad Marvel bus)

The media’s picked up on their new friendship too. There are more and then a couple videos of Marvel’s 8 foot 5 self, picking up a 6 foot maybe 4 inch Superman like he’s a toddler. People think they’re brothers, or at least cousins.

Speaking of cousins, we can’t forget about Kara. When Kal said that there was another Kryptonian, she was skeptical, but then she met Marvel. She was excited when she learned he could speak Kryptonian. She also found it awesome he spoke like an old man. The man also had no problem in learning any new traditions from her. And, he also had no problem in teaching her ancient traditions that she had no clue how he knew. The man looked at to be in his mid thirties at most. (He has knowledge of really really really old Kryptonian traditions and history because a long, long time ago a previous Champion got married to a Kryptonian woman and visited the planet whenever they could. Though, it wasn’t often due to their champion duties.) He also gets her to bake with him while he told her stories about old wars and conflicts she hadn’t even heard of. Not only did she get to teach more of their culture to Clark, she got to learn more about it from Cap. (Is also unknowingly boarding the Marvel Dad bus)

Also, Ma and Pa Kent love him and he helps around the farm as much as they allow him.

#billy batson #captain marvel dc #dc captain marvel #shazam #fawcett #fawcett city #fawcett comics #kara zor el #kara danvers #clark kent #superman

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ningvory · 10 months ago

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♡ payback ┊ yu jimin & uchinaga aeri

parings — meangirls!kariselle x loser!femreader

synopsis — after telling them to shut up, you quickly became their next target on their list. except you don't back down to them and actually fight back. so what better option do they have besides making you their pretty fuck doll? they like to call this payback.

warnings — college au, dubcon, aphrodisiac, pussy eating, degrading, fingering, facesitting, tribbing, bullying..duh, blackmail, they’re lowk pervs, pet names like pretty girl, baby, kinda proofread i was dosing off😭

w/c — 1.8k (1,865)

yu jimin and uchinaga aeri, known as karina and giselle to those who aren’t close to them, are the campus’s mean girls. well known for their beauty and of course, for bullying anyone who even dares to look at them in a way they dislike, you didn’t know much about them and you honestly didn’t card. the staff didn’t give a shit, they knew that if they even bothered to try and stop the bullying they could easily buy their way out of trouble.

unfortunately you happen to be the next target on their list. when you told them to simply, “shut the fuck up.” when you all were taking a quiz. from that day forward, they were never gonna let forget who they were. they consider it karma.

they started to poke fun at you, doing what they always do to their targets. pushing you into lockers, holding your books in the air knowing that you can’t reach them, calling you names, taking embarrassing photos of you and threatening that they would post it everywhere but they don’t mean it really, they let you slide because they think you’re cute.

you never really let them bully you that easily either, always fighting back when they would tournament you. they began getting frustrated because everything they did, you would always fight back. so what option do they have besides to fuck you dumb and make you a pretty fuck doll?

they wanted to fuck that attitude outta you, make you their personal cum dump and they always mean what they say.

you were walking outta your last class of the day, mentally exhausted and really just wanting to crash out on your bed. not expecting to be pinned to a locker in the empty hallways of the campus, letting out a small yelp when your back came in contact with the hard surface of the lockers behind you.

“hey y/nnie~ we really need help with our work. come over to our dorm room, i’ll text you what time to come!” karina said, her signature smile plastered on her face. the same one that can get her anything she wanted. she had you pinned to the wall with a soft grip until she pulled you closer to her, tightening her grip on your shoulders.

“you better be there. i think you know the consequences of disobeying us.” her voice was low and right by your ear causing you to shiver before she pulled you back to get a look at your face.

“see you later y/n!” karina said with her smile. a complete 180 of how she was before, acting as if she didn’t just force you to go to their dorm room.

—

you had to run some errands and you finally made it back to you dorm, putting your bag down and just laying on your bed. until you heard a ding! and a vibration from your phone, making you groan and roll over, knowing exactly who was texting you.

‘hey pretty girl, it’s giselle texting from rina’s phone :] it’s already 6 so come to our dorm at 8, dorm room is 1576 and make yourself look a little presentable.’

you sighed, closing your eyes really wanting to just stay in bed and chill. but you really didn’t want any more trouble from them, so you rolled out of bed with a sigh. walking over to your closet to pick something out.

after about 15 minutes you finally got your outfit together, wearing a black crop top and a simple miniskirt with your panda dunks. it was 7:54 so you had enough time to eat a snack before you walked out the door.

—

you started your mini journey to their door, it wasn’t exactly far but not close to yours either which you were honestly happy with. you were glad that your airpods were in your purse because you did not want to walk all the way back to your dorm to get them, you really couldn’t survive a day without music.

you arrived at their door it was right at 8:30. you double checked and made sure that this was the right dorm before knocking.

you went on your phone again until the door suddenly flung open and your hand being yanked inside.

“ah! y/n~ nice you came, didn’t know if you were coming.” karina spoke, bringing you into her embrace, it almost felt like she was intentionally pushing her tits into your face. you gave her a semi hug, patting her back with an awkward smile until she finally let go.

karina walked you over to their black couch, telling you to sit down while giselle gets you a drink. telling you that ‘we always give our guess a drink! don’t mention it.’ you were still as a statue, awkwardly looking around trying to figure out what exactly they brought you over for, it was obvious that they didn’t bring you over to help them with an assignment.

“sorry we had to lie, we just wanted to hang out! sure you won’t mind, right?” giselle walked over to you, giving you a glass full of and orange substance.

“y/n, relax! you’re so tense we’re not gonna bite you or something.” karina spoke, sitting down next to you while giselle turned the tv on and sat on the other side of you.

you just nodded before going to take a sip of your drink. you let out a hum, it actually tasted good. the mixture of the different fruits tasted nice, you took a bigger gulp, going to ask them where’d they get it from until you felt a hot sensation all over your body.

the two looked over at you, not expecting the aphrodisiacs to take over your body so quickly. but at least they knew it worked, and they weren’t complaining. they enjoyed your expression change, watching how you fidgeted uncontrollably and rubbed your warm thighs together, desperately trying to relieve the neediness that you suddenly felt.

you were sat there for a minute, praying that whatever you were feeling would go away. you started to watch the movie on their widescreen TV, trying to ignore the hot feeling all over.

the two smirked at each other before karina spoke out, “something wrong, baby?” her voice was low and sultry, forcing to lay down on the couch.

you started at her with a face that was just so cute to her, doe eyes looking up at her with your eyebrows knitted and a pout resting on your face. you swallowed, not knowing what to do until you felt a pair of hands spread your legs open and flick your skirt up. making you yelp at the coldness of the room, looking down to see giselle smirking back up at you.

“aw~ you’re soaked pretty girl, you’re so nasty!” giselle teased before rubbing your clothed clit. she had to hold your legs in place because you were just so jittery!

you weren’t a virgin but you weren’t someone who fucks or pleasures yourself often, but you’ve never been so desperate to cum. it’s so embarrassing you just wanted to go home and do it yourself.

giselle slides your panties off, looking in awe at the way your juices created a thick string that connected your cunt to your panties.

she raises your legs up and didn’t waste a moment, sucking on your sensitive clit and fingering your cunt. you desperately push her head away from you, it was so wrong for your bully to be going down in you! high pitched moans and whines of ‘this is wrong! s-stop!’ fell outta your mouth but the aphrodisiac had your body reacting in the opposite of your words. cunt spilling with your juices and desperately grinding your cunt on her face.

“you keep telling me to stop but your body seems to want this, pretty girl.” giselle said, pulling her face away from your cunt to undress herself.

“such a dumb girl, look at the camera.” karina giggled before grabbing your chin forcing your dazed eyes to look at the camera.

“wonder what your friends would think if they found out their friend was getting fucked stupid by her bullies..you know, you’re actually lucky you get to see us nude. people would die to be in the position.” karina added on, panning the camera down to your fat cunt before she stopped recording, undressing herself too.

karina shuffled to where she was hovering over your face, cunt on display for you to see. “your moans are so cute but so loud! i don’t wanna to get a noise complaint again so put that mouth to use, yeah?” she couldn’t even care to wait for your answer because next thing you know she’s putting all her weight on your face, her milky thighs crushing your head had you moaning and arching into your back.

“already so obedient f’me, you pain slut.” karina mustered out, barely able to speak because you’re going ham on her cunt.

this was probaly the best head she’s received because she was riding your face desperately, not even caring that she was full on suffocating you, her clit continuously bumped into your nose. you heard shuffling below you but you didn’t know what was going on until you felt your cunt being rubbed onto giselle’s fat cunny. she was grinding onto your cunt like her life depended on it and it had you moaning into karina’s cunt, making her let out surprised moans before she cummed all on your face and in your mouth.

she got off your face and coo’d, she couldn’t help but take a picture of your fucked out tear-stained face covered in her cum. you were far gone by now, back arched and eyes so far back, hands trying to grind yourself into her cunt because the pleasure felt so good! your moans mixed in with giselle’s lower moans until you let out a long high pitched whine, squirting everywhere, all over yours and her thighs.

you were crying and whining because it was starting to become too much for you, trying to push giselle off your cunt. you were so brain dead you were mumbling incoherent things, only words sounding coherent were ‘it’s too much’ but you were silenced quickly by karina’s tits being pushed in your face.

“you can take it. take what i give you until i cum, whore.” giselle grunted.

she began rubbing your clit, trying to make you squirt again and overstimulate you until you squirted again with a muffled moan. giselle finally came, cumming all over your cunt before smearing it all over your cunt and inside your hole. karina got off of you, taking in how fucked out you were before telling giselle to take pic.

“such a pretty cum dump,bet you liked every last bit of it you slut.” giselle taunted, spreading your legs wide open to take a picture of your cum covered cunt.

“the fun has just got started baby, let’s see how well you take being stuffed full of our dicks.” karina smiled at the look of horror on your face. you were in for a long night.

#ningvory #♡.nabi’s asks #kpop smut #wlw smut #aespa smut #aespa x fem reader #karina smut #aespa karina smut #giselle smut #aespa giselle smut #giselle x fem reader #karina x fem reader

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houseofceline · 1 year ago

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My Pretty Girl - T.N.

Foreign Touches and Breakfast in Bed

Pairing: Ravenclaw and sort of ditzy but talented Reader x Slytherin notorious playboy Theodore Nott

Warnings: Asshole Theo?

Summary: You wish you never woke up.

Author's Note: Hey guys! It's been a while, sorry for the wait but here it is!

< 6

__________________

“How much did you even drink last night?” Cho cringed holding your hair back as another round of vomit spewed out of you and into the toilet. You could feel your head pounding as you sat on the bathroom floor trying to calm yourself down. Waking up to a hangover and your period may be the worst combination known to man, or really women. Thankfully there were no classes today.

“Too much,” you breathed in and out, making sure there was nothing else coming up.

“Come on, we need to go to breakfast, you need to eat something.” Cho tried helping you up as you gripped onto the sink for support.

You were not ready to go out in public like this. Bed hair, snippets of last night makeup look in the form of smothered mascara on your cheek, and a million knives stabbing your uterus. Definitely not a pretty sight. Plus, you did not want to see any of the boys after last night incase of something embarrassing you might’ve done while out of it.

“I don’t wanna go,” you groaned as you flopped on your bed and curled up into a fetal position.

“You have to eat something Y/n,” Cho spoke softly as she ran her fingers through your hair, trying to flatten it.

“I’ll eat later.” You grumbled closing your eyes, menstruation already tiring you out.

“I’ll be back,” Cho said as she left the room, but you were too tired to say anything as you slipped away to dreamland.

___________________

A foreign touch on his chest causes Theo to stir awake in confusion.

What the hell.

He blinked a few times, allowing his vision to clear up.

Seeing the fake blonde from last night he groaned.

“Why are you still here?” He mumbled, swatting her hand away from him as he scooted further away from her.

“What do you mean baby? We don’t have classes today silly,” Hannah replied as she sat up, still nude from late night activities.

“Right, so the last thing I want on a free day is to see your face. Get out.” Theo mumbled hoping she’d leave so he could sleep so more.

“Theo baby, don’t be so mean,” she spoke, reaching out for him again causing Theo to sit up in a huff.

“You know the deal, you were supposed to be out before I even woke up,” he ignored the nasty feeling of her calling him cringey pet names.

“Theo we don’t have to be like this.”

“My name is Theodore,” he stated as he got up and got dressed.

He sighed as he picked up her clothing items off the floor and threw them at her.

“I’m leaving since you won’t. But I advise you to wake up before Malfoy does, you know he doesn’t like you.” Theo said as he walked out, ignoring the gasps of surprise when her bra landed in her face.

What an annoying girl.

He walked to the Great Hall, deciding that he might as well grab breakfast since he was awake.

“Did you fuckers seriously eat all the sausages?” Theo scoffed as he took a seat in front of Mattheo.

“What the fuck did you want me to eat? Those nasty ass muffins?” Blaise replied as he passed a goblet of orange juice to him.

“HEY! They’re not nasty,” Lorenzo spoke up with crumbs falling out of his mouth.

“Buddy you’re getting it all over me,” Mattheo shoved the boy next to him with a scoff before glancing over at Theo.

“Fun night huh?” Mattheo raised a glass towards the bruise-like mark on Theo’s neck.

“Fuck are you serious?” Theo groaned as he rubbed the side of his neck.

“I knew I’d regret it, she’s been so possessive lately,” Theo rolled his eyes as he continued eating breakfast.

“Well I mean you’re always going back to her, maybe she thinks something will happen between the two of you,” Mattheo responded while Theo laughed in response.

“She’s a Hufflepuff, you know only Slytherin girls are worth dating.”

Mattheo frowned as Lorenzo looked up from his breakfast.

The whole table fell silent as Lorenzo finished chewing his muffin, “Y/n’s a Ravenclaw. I don’t think she lacks anything compared to Slytherin girls.”

“Yeah in fact I think she looked better than any Slytherin girl last night,” Mattheo mumbled, causing Theo to look up in surprise.

“She was there?” He gaped, suddenly feeling like he was going to throw up.

Lorenzo rolled his eyes knowing that Theo had no right to even care if she was there or not. Mattheo and him had begun to care for the girl as if she was their baby sister and at first they were rooting for Theo, but now they weren’t so sure anymore. They had thought that she could be the one to make Theo better. After all it was him who had shown interest first, it was him who had begun to change because of her. She was the first girl Theo had ever described without using compliments that didn’t mean anything. Never spoke about how hot her body was instead ranted to the two boys about how angelic her face looked while she studied and how she smelled like flowers and vanilla. Not only cared about what was on the outside but on the inside as well, bragging to the boys about how talented she was and how cool her nail designs were. That is the same boy who had his eyes set on someone else last night, and the thought of it even made Lorenzo want to either cry or punch him.

“Yeah but don’t worry, she didn’t need your company,” Lorenzo scoffed as he continued to eat his breakfast again.

Lorenzo isn’t the type of person to show any resentment or hold any grudges, so Theo definitely knew he might’ve messed up.

But before Theo could say anything, a familiar face approached up behind Mattheo and Lorenzo.

Following Theo’s gaze the two boys turned around and greeted the girl.

“Chang! What’s up?” Lorenzo greeted happily, a complete 180 switch in tone.

“Hey boys, I’m grabbing breakfast for Y/n since she doesn’t feel well and I thought seeing your faces would cheer her up,” Cho explained as she showed them her plate of chocolate chip muffins.

Theo furrowed his eyebrows, “Is she okay? Is she sick?”

Cho rolled her eyes at the boy who caused her best friend to come back to the dorms sobbing her eyes out. She didn’t even know Theo that well but as she watched Y/n clutch her heart as she cried in her arms, she felt as if the boy had broken her heart as well.

“She's fine as if it’s any of your concern,” Cho brushed Theo’s questions away as she avoided any eye contact with him.

Lorenzo and Mattheo didn’t bother coming to his defense but instead got up and grabbed some juice and fruit before following Cho.

Theo looked down at his plate and suddenly didn’t feel very hungry anymore. Blaise sighed before patting his mate’s back in comfort while Theo pushed his food around.

Maybe he deserved that.

#theodore nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #draco malfoy x reader #hogwarts oc #hogwarts au #harry potter #slytherin #ravenclaw #slytherin boys #draco malfoy #blaise zabini #theodore nott #mattheo riddle #lorenzo berkshire #hp fandom #hp fanfic

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lovifie · 11 months ago

Text

Lift Me Off My Feet

Chapter 4: Midnight Snack

Masterlist

Original Thought - Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12

3.5K words

Warning/Notes: Soap x Reader, oral sex (m receiving), hair pulling, messy make out

This is the video from where the photo is, if you haven't seen it, You have to and if you have already, you are welcome.

The drive back to base seems neverending.

Once Price and Ghost managed to get you to stop crying and to breathe normally. The three of you pack the essentials, and by that, I mean you were hugged to Ghost like a koala while Price got what he could save from your house into a bag pack.

Most of your clothes were ripped or cut, so in the end, only some pieces of underwear, a couple of shirts, some pants and the pyjamas you were wearing were safe. Plus your jacket and shoes that were behind the door.

And that is how you found yourself now. Sobbing, sitting in the middle of the back seat, bag pack on your lap, Simon’s hand on your knee from the passenger seat as Price drives.

“Tomorrow morning, you are going to call your job, and tell them that you are going to take a couple of days off, okay?” Price asks looking at you through the rearview mirror. “And we will take everything you need, we will buy clothes, find you a better place to stay, anything you need.”

You shake your head feeling the tears come back and you hide your face behind your hands as you start to cry again. “I can't.” You cry. “What can't you do?” Simon asks turning his head to look at you.

“Miss more work days, I have already taken too many. I can't afford to lose more.” You mumble whining out of mental exhaustion.

“Hey, stop. Don't get carried away, alright?” Simon says rubbing your thigh. “Let's not think about that right now, tomorrow tell your boss the situation. Tell them that your house was broken into, that you need a couple of days to get everything in order. Depending on what your boss says, we'll work from there. Alright, birdie?”

You nod weakly as you focus on taking deep breaths. When you finally arrive, both men get out of the car and Price opens the door for you. You step out still holding your bag tight, either men try to take it from your hands and walk along between both men.

Their hands find their way to your back, Price to the bottom and Simon to the top, reassuring shielding you from the chilly breeze of the night.

“How about a cuppa?” Simon asks looking at you, a smile visible in his eyes, and you can't help it but to give him a weak smile back nodding. “Then, we will find you a room so you can sleep as much as you want.”

Sleep does sound amazing, taking into consideration that last night you had little sleep and you have been on the move ever since.

Price and Simon walk you to a lousy room, many recruits sitting together. The mess hall, you figure. In the middle of the room, there are a couple of sofas, and you quickly recognise Soap and Gaz, sprawled together in one of them looking at Gaz's phone.

Most of the soldiers that are finishing their dinner, or just enjoying each other company before going to bed look up when they hear the door opening. Their gazes linger for a second too long on you until you can feel Ghost throwing them a warning sign in the form of a look and they peel their eyes away.

Gaz and Soap look up when they hear the door open, and just for a second, they smile at you before they furrow their browns when they see everyone's expression.

“What happened? How come the wee lass so spooked?” Soap asks sitting straight and patting the seat between him and Kyle.

Price’s hand on your lower back softly pushes you forward to sit down before he answers: “She’s still a bit in shock, Soap. We’ll talk about it later.”

You sit down between Soap and Gaz, backpack still in your hands, and pull your knees up hugging your legs. Gaz points to your backpack and asks: “You sleeping over tonight? You should definitely sleep in Soap’s and my room. Ghost and Price have their own individual ones, but they snore.” He whispers the last part pulling a little smile from you.

You lean your head on Soap's shoulder when he lays his arm on the couch behind your back. The man is a living furnace and shortly after you find yourself seeking more contact.

Price sits on the second sofa in front of you and just a second later Ghost appears back, cup of tea on hand, as he gives it to you. You take it from his hands, yours still shaking just a little bit as you do, and you rest it on top of your knee for support.

Kyle's hand find its way to your other knee giving it a light squeeze. “How's your arm, luv?” You look at your elbow and shrug your shoulder. “I haven't even had time to check it, good I think, it hasn't bothered me.”

“You didn't get hurt today, did you?” Price asks focusing on your face after doing a quick check-up of you. You shake your head: “No, a headbutt on the ceiling if anything.”

Price nods, satisfied with your answer and shakes his head at the sergeant's questioning look. You look down to the tea, thoughts getting to you. You saw your neighbour get arrested, and if he had gotten free they would have told you. So it must have been someone who works for them, and if he wasn't arrested already is because they didn't really know who works for them.

“What are you thinking about, birdie?” Ghost brings you back to reality with just a question. “Am I safe here?” You ask, with a shake in your voice.

“Yes.” Price's answer is concise, full of trust in his own word, leaving no room for doubt. “As long as you are with us, nothing and nobody is getting to you.”

You look at his face, almost as if expecting him to burst laughing at you for trusting them. A voice in your head screams at you not to do it, you barely know them. But you thought you knew your neighbour and now he's trying to kill you, so.

You nod and take a sip of the tea. Warming you inside and letting you relax just a bit.

“How about a distraction?” Soap asks smiling at you. “Have we told ye aboot the time Gaz fell from a helo and was hangin’ from a rope like a yo-yo?”

“Fucking hell, Johnny. Shut up!” Gaz complains laughing next to you.

The time went a bit more smoothly when Soap decided to talk about everyone's embarrassing stories, you could still tell he wasn't telling everything, keeping the classified information for himself, but still telling enough to have you laughing, gasping and asking with interest as he told.

By the time you finished your tea, you were already in a greater mood, the attack from today moved to the back of your head. Price lends you a hand to help you stand up while Ghost takes the empty cup from you. Gaz and Soap keep their word to share the room for the night against Price and Ghost's complaint that they should let you rest alone. Until the words “I don't really want to be alone.” leave your mouth and that's the end of the bickering.

Soap and Gaz barracks are quite simple, two single beds against opposite walls, two desks, two little bookshelves and two closets. Almost as if there was a mirror in the middle of the room if it wasn't for the little trinkets and details on each side letting you know the right bed was Soap's and the one on the left was Gaz's.

After a quick rock, paper, scissor championship, it is decided you will be sharing Soap's bed. And since you are already in your pyjamas, you get inside the bed quickly, ready to be done with the day. Soap lays behind you, hugging your middle and dropping a kiss to your temple. “Sleep tight, bonnie.”

A ray of light erupts from the bathroom door that is practically closed, almost as if whoever closed was afraid the click of the door closing would wake you up. At first, you don't think most of it, Soap must have gotten up to pee. But then you listen, and it doesn't sound like that's what he is doing in the bathroom.

Little grunts can be heard as well as the sound of skin hitting skin. You stand up from the bed, curiosity taking control of your body and walking you to peak at the door. You shouldn't, you really shouldn't. But once you lay your eyes on him, you know you are fucked.

Soap is barechested, leaning against the sink with a hand supporting him while the other strokes his dick. He has his eyes closed, head low with his mouth open slightly, and small grunts and whines leave his lips.

The grey sweatpants slightly lowered, allowing you to see the curve of his lower back as well as what you trust is the girthiest dick you have ever laid your eyes onto. The tip looks red, hungry for release, pearls of precum dripping from it making your mouth water.

There is a turmoil of thoughts in your head, you keep repeating to yourself that you need to place some distance between yourself and these men. But the moment any of them show any skin or any emotion of want towards you, you throw yourself at them.

Three times have you gone through this, your mind telling you is a bad idea and your pussy pushing you at their arms. This time is not different, and before you know it, you are inside the bathroom locking the door making Soap jump.

“Steamin’ jesus, bonnie.” He says shoving his dick inside his pants and turning his back at you to hide his tent. “Knock before entering, lass.”

“Sorry.” You mutter, not feeling sorry and you slowly walk to him. “I just wanted to help…”

“What? What you me-” He gets cut mid-question when he feels your hand grazing his tip, pressing your chest to his back and surrounding his waist with your arm. You use a hand to feel his abdomen and the other to softly caress the length of his dick inside his pants.

“But I can go back to bed if you don't want…” You say looking at the back of his head. “Don't you dare.” He answers grabbing your wrist when you try to take it back and he looks at you over his shoulder.

“Ye dinnae have to do it if ye dinnae want… but if you want, I'll take anythin’ ye throw at me, bonnie.” He says turning around and cupping your face after lowering his pants again to free his erection. “I had to run to the bathroom cause ye were rubbing yer arse against me on yer sleep, I was about to explode.”

“Well then, I think it's only fair I fix it, right?” You ask looking at him cheekly. He leans down and kisses you smiling into the kiss. Little groans slide into your mouth as you stroke him and you can feel his hips thrust softly into your hand as well.

For the last two days these men have only but given to you, and as much as you have enjoyed every single second of it, it is about time you give back.

You pick Soap's hand from your cheek and push it up to your hair. “Make sure to keep my hair away from my face, all right?”

He looks at you confused but quickly gets the idea when you kneel before him. He quickly brushes your hair back with his finger, doing a ponytail at the back of your head and groans deeply when you give a kitty lick to his tip.

You pop his tip inside your mouth sucking softly as you circle it with your tongue. Stroke the rest with both your hands, unable to reach your thumb with your index because of the girth and slowly bobbing your head up and down.

Soap stays mumbling curse words under his breath, low enough to not be able to hear him and you wish you were not hiding in the bathroom and could hear him scream. You think back to when Price ate you out, did he get as turn-on satisfying you as you are getting doing it to Soap?

He opens his eyes to lock into yours and you look up to him through your lashes as you start to get more inside your mouth.

“Fokin’ hell, bonnie. Keep looking at me like that and I'm not gonna last a second.” He says struggling to keep his eyes open.

You chuckle inside your head, and keep getting closer and closer to his hipbone. You must praise Soap's self-commitment to not cum, even though you can feel the grip on your hair getting tighter. When you feel his pubes brush against your nose you pull back taking a breath and look at him. When you lock eyes with each other, you smile and say before opening your mouth: “Fuck my throat, Johnny.”

For a second you get scared that Soap will just cum as you speak when you physically see the shudder that goes through him. But then he grips your hair back making you look up to him and he kisses your mouth in a sloppy kiss. Spit, drool and precum all mixing between your tongues and when he draws back to talk a threat of spit connect your lips. “You are going to fucking kill me, lass.” He mumbles and stands up to full height.

He doesn't let go of your hair and when you stick your tongue out he slaps it with his cock. “Gonna fuck yer throat raw, bonnie. Bite if it gets too much.” He smirks before shoving his dick down your throat in a single thrust and beginning to fulfil his word.

“Fuck, bonnie.” He says slurring his words between moans. “Taking my cock so well, such a good fucking lass, so, so good, fuck.”

Your visions get blurry with the tears from fighting your gag reflex, your hands rest on Soap's thighs and you can feel them flex with each thrust. If it wasn't for your pants you know you would be literally dripping on the floor, never did you though it could turn you on this much. But seeing Soap becoming such a mess, not being even able to speak, just mumbles and curses leaving his mouth.

“Let me cum inside, bonnie, please. I wanna see you drink it, please, please, bonnie, please.” He begs looking at your face with a pained expression, and almost as if he was waiting for your answer when you slightly nod he grunts and you feel his spent travel down your throat. He stays like that for another second and finally pulls out, you open your mouth showing him your work and he smiles as he bends down to kiss you again. “Fucking beautiful, love.”

The next morning you are woken up by an alarm and just a second later a door slamming shut. “I call dibs on the bathroom!” Kyle shouts making you jump.

You turn around on Soap's arms, nuzzling your face on his chest and sighing satisfied. “Eejit” Soap mumbles with his chin resting on top of your head.

“Do we have to share the bathroom the three of us?” You ask against his chest.

“Ye didnae seem to mind sharing it with me last night.” He mumbles back and you feel his chest tumble with a laugh.

“Aw, shut up, Johnny.” You say chuckling and yawning. “What time is it, anyway? I feel like I slept just two hours.”

“0540, not too far off to be honest.” He answers and when your half-sleep brain processes what time it is you look at him as if he has just insulted you. “What?”

“Why the fuck are we up before 6 in the morning? Like, seriously, the fuck?” You ask grumpy as you sit up pulling your legs over Soap's torso. He caresses one of your calves and flexes his arm resting his head on his hand. If you were not so bothered to be awakened so early, you would admire his physique.

“This is the military, love.” He says smiling. “Ye look like an angry kitty.”

You pull the pillow from under his head and hit him with it making him laugh. “Do we need to be ready before six?”

“Yeah, actually, that's when we are supposed to have breakfast. We are meeting Lt. and Price there.” He says taking the pillow from his face. “Ye should get dressed.”

You groan standing up and picking your bag from the side of the bed. You pull your clothes out, and notice that you can barely form a full outfit; you sigh and sit on the floor looking at Soap who is now on his side, elbow on the bed and head resting on his hand. He looks at you with a confused expression and says: “That's all ye packed, lassie? I thought ye were staying more time.”

He stands up, walks to his closet and picks something from inside just to throw it to your head. An uf sound leaves your throat and you pick it up to see it, it is a sweatshirt with MacTavish written on the back. “It is cold this early in the morning, we don't want ye freezing up. Get dressed.”

He bends down to drop a kiss on your lips leaving you a bit stunned and enters the bathroom without knocking making Gaz protest from the inside. “Stop screaming, it's me. I'm just giving the wee lass some privacy, Gaz.”

You chuckle to yourself and quickly get dressed, putting on the only pair of jeans you have, and a weird t-shirt from some kind of ad you used to wear to sleep, feeling really grateful it is covered with Soap's sweatshirt.

“What are you doing here, luv?” Price asks standing up when he sees you enter the mess hall following Soap and Gaz. “Everything alright?”

The expression on your face must be portrait-worth because you can see even Simon's eyes twirl with a smile.

“What do you mean what I'm doing here?” You ask looking at Price, until you hear a little snickering coming from both Gaz and Soap and you finally put two and two together. You turn to Soap and when you finally make eye contact with him, he burst out laughing.

“I'm sorry, bonnie. It was just too perfect of an opportunity to waste it.” He says raising his hand in false innocence. He tries to side-hug you, but you move quickly raising your chin offended and walking up to Price. “I'll fetch ye breakfast as a peace offering, all right, love?”

“That's the minimum you can do!” You exclaim still offended and stick your tongue out to him as you sit between where Ghost is sitting and where Price was sitting, him following you.

“Sorry about that, love.” Price says rubbing your tight. “I told them muppets to let you sleep in today. Did you at rest good?”

Gaz sits in front of you with a smirk, and you don't know if he knows, but you are sure that if he does he will snitch on you so stay on edge making sure not to break eye contact with him.

“Yeah, I did. The bed was surprisingly comforting, and Soap was a weighted blanket so.” You answer still looking at Gaz. You can feel Price's questioning look and Ghost's smirk.

“So Soap was comfortable?” Gaz asks smiling.

“Yeah, quite comfortable.” You answer.

He knows.

He fucking knows.

You don't know how, but he knows.

“Is that why you followed him to the bathroom when he went in the middle of the night?” He asks.

Fucking Garrick.

“I don't know what you are talking about.” You respond looking at your nails.

“I'm talking about when you into the bathroom and helped-”

CLANK

Soap puts the tray of food in front of you just in time, cutting Gaz's claim and starts to enunciate the food he bought. “I got ye coffee cause it's obvious yer not a morning person, I brought ye toast, some fruits and a little cereal cause I didn't really know what ye wanted. And I bought ye chocolate pudding.” He says putting the little cup on your hands, giving you a kiss on your head. “For sucking my dick so good last night.”

Gaz bursts out laughing, happy that he didn't even need to tell anything, while Ghost chuckles under his breath and Price sighs rubbing his forehead.

“I think there is a conversation that we definitely need to have.” Price announces. “For everyone's sake.”

Hiii 💗

Hope you liked the new chapter, please please drop a comment if you like it or if there is any scenarios you would like me to include 💗

Thank you again for all the support, you guys are the best

Taglist:@pagesfalling @thevoidwriting @darkangel4121 @tf141glory @skyler-loves-rick-grimes @ghostlythots @readerofallthingss @onewattson6529 @mynameismothra @xinyiline @shadowtfpcod @infpt-zylith @renabear88 @lolliepopsicle @reap3erslov3

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sexlapis · 4 months ago

Text

[◉°] … TOJI FUSHIGURO READS THIRST TWEETS…6.4M views

actor!toji, crack, fluff, implied toji x gender neutral!reader, depraved tweets…

⤷ synopsis: our favourite actor, toji, discovers more of his fanbase’s depravity…

a/n: i’m sorry this took so long. actor!toji hasn’t been forgotten about okay! ໒꒰ྀི ∩ ⸝⸝ ∩ ꒱ྀིა

masterlists

actor!toji masterlist

“hey everyone, i’m toji fushiguro and i-,” toji exhales deeply, like he’s disappointed, shaking his head and closing his eyes, “i’m gonna be reading your thirst tweets? thirst twee-is that what they’re called?

he looks dashing - his hair boyishly messy, donned in black shirt that is far too fitting, along with dark blue jeans which are far too tight around his lower body, more specifically his thighs. denim stretches around the thick muscle with each of his movements, rippling through the thick material.

those will probably be very distracting to viewers.

toji holds up a smartphone, pressing on its screen with his large index finger, “…how’s this thing work again?” faint laughter can be heard from behind the camera, “‘cos i don’t use phones like this. my phones usually have buttons and stuff…”

after five painful minutes of two crew members explaining how a smartphone operates (condensed into a ten second clip) toji he is good to go.

“ahhh, right, right, right. okay. thanks,” toji clears his throat, shifting in his chair a little, “because i really didn’t know…”

tweet 1

toji sighs and lets out a strained laugh. “look i appreciate the thought but that doesn’t even sound nice…in fact, this just sounds like a threat. is this a threat? it’s a threat to me. also you can’t spell.”

tweet 2

“why are they all so threatening? why do mean beaten up and bloody? why do they all want me in pain? what wrong with you people?!” toji exclaims, shaking his head and sighing, before pondering, “i do enjoying doing fight scenes though, so i’m not against this…”

tweet 3

toji makes a face and his mouth twitches. “huh?! what? what is this? what are they saying? is this what kids are saying these days? is this a compliment?” a crew from behind the camera explains that it is, indeed, a strong compliment. “oh, okay. what happened to ‘he looks so nice’ or ‘he’s so handsome’? they’re so damn strange.”

tweet 4

“just when i thought they were getting normal…all the way to my elbow?” he questions in disbelief. “ and my hands?” he holds up both of his hands, “is that what women like?”

there were many edits made with that clip.

tweet 5

“alright well this one is kinda nice for the most part. i’m gonna ignore the penis part. they’re not not wrong of course.” he states as a matter of fact. but then says, “…me and y/n are not together though…” laughs are heard from behind the camera, “what? we’re not together! if we were, i’d make sure everybody knew, trust me.”

tweet 6

toji clears his throat, breathing in deeply and shaking his head. “i think…i think that’s enough for today. or ever. there’s nothing more to say to this. thanks.”

a/n: actor toji is here guys he won’t be back for another 5 months 👍

#actor!toji #toji x reader #toji x you #toji x y/n #toji x self insert #toji fluff #toji fushigro x reader #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro x y/n #toji fushiguro x self insert #toji fushiguro fluff #fushiguro toji x reader #fushiguro toji x you

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yujiqi · 3 months ago

Note

hiii could you write a lil something fluffy about reader and hamzah living together and what starts as you stealing his clothes turns into you guys sharing basically everything (like he steals your satin pillowcase, you use his glasses, he tries out your skincare, etc.)??

(could be an established relationship or secretly-in-love roommates <3)

the perfect pair

bf!hamzah x f!reader

synopsis: you and hamzah have been living together for so long you even start to use each others stuff!

genre/s: fluff

warnings: none!

wc: 890

a/n: coming around to requests! i literally used all your examples because i genuinely couldn't think of things LOL this was lowkey short and idk if i fulfilled what u wanted but this ones so cute i love it thank u anon :D

you and hamzah moved in together about 6 months ago and you guys have gotten much more comfortable with each other since then. for the first month or two, you guys would always ask for permission before borrowing or wearing each others things, but you really can't say the same now.

"babe have you seen my camo hat?" you hear your boyfriends voice call from your shared closet.

"yes!" you say smiling as he walks out and towards you on the bed, staring at his camo hat sitting on your small head.

"look at you," he pats your head, "always taking my hats"

"it matches my pants, see" you laugh, jumping up to give him a hug. he reciprocates and presses a kiss to your forehead.

it's not even just clothes and accessories, sometimes it's the oddest things that you typically wouldn't share. you were finishing up your night routine and as you get in bed, you notice somethings missing. you turn over to hamzah laying on his side scrolling on his phone, his head laying on the pillow with your satin pillow case.

"hamzah" you rest your chin on his shoulder, catching a glimpse of the stupid tiktok he was watching.

"hm" he hums, engrossed.

"why do you have my pillow case?" he finally looks away from his phone to look at you, flashing a cheeky cmile.

"it makes my skin smoother! and look at my curls" you begin playing with his silky dark brown locks.

"they look so good baby, want me to buy you one?"

"no no then it won't smell like you" you only let out a chuckle, kissing his cheek.

"you're so cute"

whenever you study for exams, you have a hard time reading the font and to your surprise, hamzahs glasses have the perfect amount of prescription, so you wear them!

"ugh this is so stupid" you sigh, frustrated at the question you've been on for 30 minutes. you hear the front door opening and closing, meaning hamzah's home.

"hey girl, whatcha doin hm?" he comes behind your chair, kissing the top of your head.

"i'm studying for that business exam i told you 'bout"

"oh man, i wish i could help but i really don't know what i'm looking at right now" he begins massaging your shoulders, hoping to relieve some of your stress. "that feel good, angel?"

"so good," you sigh. "thank you baby but 'm gonna fall asleep, i gotta finish this"

"ok i'll leave you to it, i'm proud of you ma" he leans down to kiss your cheek but he pauses. "are you wearing my glasses?"

you smile up at him, kissing his plump lips. "yeah, needed them to see this tiny ass font"

"you look so studious, you're serving office siren i think is what it's called? but you look so sexy i'm actually having heart palpitations" he grasps his chest, heaving jokingly.

"i love you how you say things" you laugh, pressing another kiss to his lips.

hamzah occasionally gets little breakouts on his face, and to make matters worse, he doesn't even have a skincare routine. but you do. so when this happens, he just uses your skincare!

"how the hell does she use this?" hamzah questions as he fumbles with one of your serums.

"hamzah, you okay?" you enter the bathroom, your hamzah-senses tingling. "boy what are you doing?"

"my skin was doing bad and i was feeling a lil insecure" he sulks.

"should've told me love," you sit on the counter. "c'mere, lemme do this for you" he moves to stand between your legs and you take the serum from his large hands. "what have you done so far?"

"i put this thing on" he points at your toner, before placing his hands on your thighs.

"ok good, you were on the right track!" you open the serum and fill the applicator. "you press this at the top to get the serum in the dropper"

"ohhh i thought it was the squeezy ones"

"no, but i'm shocked you know that!" you smile approvingly at him, applying some serum on his cheeks and then his forehead and chin. you begin patting it into his skin with your fingers.

"i like when you touch my face, feels good" he looks at you with half lidded eyes.

"yeah?"

"mhm, can you do this more often?"

"of course, anything for you sweetheart" you kiss his nose, "now i'm just gonna use a moisturizer then we'll do sunscreen, okay?" he nods his head, inching his body closer to you. now his arms are wrapped loosely around your lower waist.

"hamzah you're too close! how am i gonna do this?" you giggle at his clingyness, applying the cream to his face that's just inches away from yours.

"see you're doing just fine" he gives you toothly a smile as you reach the last step.

"anddd we're done!" you fix a stray curl on his head before wrapping your arms around his neck so he can help you down.

"is the glow giving?" he says as he sucks his cheeks in.

"yes but don't do that"

"oh ok so you don't love me"

"boiii get the hell out of here" you playfully push his shoulder and chase him out of the bathroom.

it really is sharing is caring with you and hamzah.

#hamzah fluff #hamzah x reader #hamzahthefantastic #hamzah imagines #slushy noobz #hamzah

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prncessjaeger · 1 year ago

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eren and his mystery cheerleader gf! ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

syp: no one believed eren had such a pretty gf…until now

trin speaks!: be mindful i might have errors. it’s normal.

“so where’s your so-called "girlfriend" at? or did you make this one up too like the last time-”

“oh fuck off, connie, that was one time, and i was 12!” the rest of his friends surrounding him laughed at his embarrassment, (apparently he was the only one without a girlfriend so he made up having one…like i’m talking fake messages and everything.) currently, they were at a rival school’s basketball game since you didn’t go to their school and of course eren decided to come and support you…but his friends armin, connie, and onyankopon tagged along with him, wanting to see who his “special lady” was. “so is the game gonna start or…?” “uh, i think? it just turned 6-” armin was cut off with a set of claps and loud stomps from the side of the bleachers, cheerleaders could be heard shouting a set of words while the boys ran out through the middle of them. parents, children and other spectators could be heard yelling in excitement for the intense game that was yet to happen.

eren looked around to spot you, finding you sitting on the bottom bleacher scrolling on your phone, and the boys traced his eyesight, “bro no way you date that girl sitting on the bottome row?” “huh?” connie pointed at you, “her? she’s toooo fine to be dating you-” “hey?! what’s wrong with me?” “-she should be dating me!” everyone around him rolled their eyes, “if anything she should date me, black love is the best love-” “right, but she’s entitled to date anyone she dates, besides we don’t know her,” armin was received with blank stares from all three of em while ignoring eren’s mumbling claims of, “i’m the one dating her,” soon or later it was halftime, which was a break time for everyone.

the dance team began to perform and all the cheerleaders went their separate ways. connie and armin went to concessions and onyankopon was talking with a girl he’d just met, so eren searched and searched for you, until he felt a pair of cold, soft hands hindering his vision. “guess whooo~”

“my beautiful baby i’d hope?” you kept his eyes covered as you moved infront of him, then removed them happily, “well you hoped right! hi eren!” you hugged him and sat next to him, leaning into his arms, “oh wait- you see our new uniforms?” “yes, its looks amazing- they added glitter to the school letters?” your curls shooks as you rapidly nodded, “yes! and the other sports coaches complained about it, wanting the letters to be unisex but i mean, glitter is glitter, and THEN the coaches made us run 5 laps before the game because someone left their bow at home, and now…” he turned towards you so he could listen to you better, and once the buzzer went off, you had to bid your goodbye, “you taking me home?” “you think you could ride home with sasha - i have the guys and i don’t wanna make it too crowded, i’ll get you once you get home?” your slight frown turned upside down and you noddied happily, “okay! see ya!” you waved enthusiastically and he waved back, sighing in content. “who’re you waving at?”

“my girlfriend?” they all stared at eren for like 5 seconds, then bursted out laughing at him, “oh man eren, you are too funny!”

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

after dropping his friends off, eren sat outside your home, waiting for your arrival and decided to do something that’ll hopefully get into his friends head that he’s actually dating someone. he smirked at his phone, editing up his caption and nearly jumped hearing his car door open, seeing you in his hoodie and some cute grey shorts, “hey baby,” you kissed his cheek and saw his phone, “uhh why are you…?”

“you’ll see.”

#eren x reader #eren x black fem!reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x black reader #attack on titan #aot x y/n #eren yeager #aot fanfiction #eren aot #fluff #eren x black reader #eren yaeger x reader #eren headcanons #eren snk #aot x black y/n #aot x reader #smut

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pankowblues · 5 months ago

Text

Road Mishaps

not proofread

summary- drew comforts you during your pregnancy

warnings - throwing up, motion sickness, pregnancy

You and drew just had an interview and you were 6 months pregnant with a baby boy. You guys announced that you guys were dating ever since photos of you guys got leaked on the internet.

“Okay, where do you want to go? Home?” Drew says as he buckles his seatbelt

“Yea sure I want to get this dress off me” you say tugging on my dress a bit

He smiles “And what’s wrong with the dress huh baby?” He says teasingly while driving

“It’s sooo uncomfortable”

He chuckles, he can tell that you’re craving something comfortable over anything else right now “If you feel so uncomfortable then why did you wear the dress in the first place?”

“Too look good duhh” you say like it’s obvious

He grins, he glances over at you while driving “Babe, you don’t need to try and look good. You look good no matter what you have on, you know that”

That’s when you start to feel yourself getting nauseous from the baby and motion sickness and you feel the urge to throw up “hey drew”

He hears the sound of your voice and can tell that the tone has changed, he quickly glances at you to see your facial expression to see you looking uncomfortable “Yeah babe?”

“pull over hurry up”

He sees the urgent plea in your voice and he immediately pulls the car to the side of the road and stops the car. He turns and faces you “What’s wrong babe?”

You open the car door and put your head outside ready to throw up “This his baby is making me feel nauseous again”

He quickly unbuckles his seat and gets out of the car to go around to your side. He rubs your back gently as you put your head out of the door, ready to puke.

You make a few gagging noises but still not throwing up, tears well in your eyes from frustration cause you want to throw up but it won’t come out.

He kneels down on the side of the car next to you and keeps rubbing circles on your back gently as he watches you get frustrated at the fact that you can’t throw up.

“drew I can’t” You say as a few tears fall down your face

He feels bad when he sees the tears fall down your face, he gently rubs your back trying to comfort you as much as he can “Just try to breath babe. Take deep breaths. Try to relax”

You breath and take a few breaths and you finally relax waiting and that’s when you push his legs backwards as you throw up so you don’t get anything on him

He watches as you finally throw up and he’s glad, at least this way you can start feeling better, he’s so focused on making sure you’re okay that he fails to realize that you pushed his legs out of the way to avoid getting puke on him.

“Omg drew ew I got it on you”

He finally looks down and realizes that you did in fact get puke on him, although you were trying your best not to “Nah it’s okay, it’s not a biggie babe”

“What do you mean?! That’s disgusting. I’m so sorry”

He continues rubbing your back, unbothered by the fact that puke is on his pants “Babe, it’s not like it’s the first time it has happened. We’ve been through a lot, you throwing up on me isn’t new”

You grab some paper towels from the glove box and clean his blue pants trying to get most of it off.

He laughs, he finds it sweet that you are trying to clean his pants off when you’re the pregnant one who just threw up on the side of a random road* “Babe, it’s seriously fine”

“I just don’t want you driving home with my puke on your pants*

He smiles, amused by your determination to clean up the mess that you made “I’m fine babe, I can handle driving with my pants stained with your vomit”

That night you both went home with pants with puke on them and a happy stomach. You wouldn’t stop apologizing the entire night but drew finally shut you up with a kiss.

tag list: @0xstarzx0, @wearemadeofstardust0, @rafecameroncoke

#rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe imagine #drew starkey #drew fic #drew starkey fic #drew x reader #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey drabble #drew starkey blurb #rafe blurb #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron blurb #drew starkey fluff #dad!drew

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joelsrose · 2 months ago

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Guns and Roses: Chapter 6

masterlist

Guys this is my favourite chapter so far PLS ENJOYYY AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK plsss

TW: physical recovery, PTSD, trauma, blood, mentions of death

Summary: you confront the challenges of recovering from the attack, dealing with a broken leg and the necessity of relying on others for care. An unexpected figure emerges to support you.

please listen to this song as you listennnn fits the vibe perfectly

The last thing you remembered was pain—excruciating and unrelenting, tearing through your leg and radiating up your spine. It was all a blur of chaos—those men, the feeling of being overpowered, the crushing weight of helplessness. Then there was Tommy’s voice, the desperate shouts, and… Joel.

You jolted awake with a sharp gasp, your breath catching in your throat. The world came back in fragments—the lights above were dim, casting a hazy glow over the room, and there were voices, soft and distant, just beyond your understanding.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” a gentle voice cut through the haze, drawing you back to the present. It was Maria, leaning over you, her expression a mixture of concern and relief. She was by your side, a cool rag in hand, gently dabbing your forehead. “You’re safe. You’re okay now.”

Your eyes darted around the room, wide and unfocused, trying to make sense of where you were. The space was cluttered with old medical books, shelves stocked with bandages and other supplies, and the faint smell of antiseptic lingered in the air. “What… what happened?” you croaked, your voice weak, throat raw from disuse.

Maria’s hand rested gently on your shoulder, anchoring you as she spoke. "You got hurt, but you're going to be okay. We've got you, and you're safe here, I promise." Her voice was calm and steady, laced with a warmth meant to soothe, yet the worry in her eyes betrayed her. It was a quiet, lingering fear, as though things could have taken a far darker turn.

Your thoughts spun in a frantic blur, grasping desperately for fragments of memory. “Is Tommy… is everyone okay?” The words tumbled out, urgent and unbidden, as the chaos replayed in your mind. All you could remember were the screams—Joel collapsing, clutching a stab wound in his leg, crimson pooling beneath him, spreading like a relentless tide.

Was he still alive?

The thought left you cold, a chill sinking deep into your bones, twisting in your gut like a knife. Nausea clawed at your throat, a sickening dread that threatened to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, everyone’s fine,” Maria reassured you, her voice a soothing balm over the raw edges of your fear. Relief washed over you in a rush, loosening the tightness in your chest. You could breathe again—deep, shaky breaths that seemed to draw you back from the brink, grounding you in the present.

“Tommy just stepped out,” she said, her tone gentle, trying to fill the space with reassurance. “He’ll be right back. He’s been here a lot and… so has—” She stopped abruptly, the pause heavy, as if you were too fragile to hear what came next.

“Who?” you asked, your voice quiet and rough, oblivious to what she was about to say.

Maria’s gaze met yours, hesitant for a heartbeat before she continued, “Joel.”

His name hung in the air, unspoken but heavy with meaning. “He’s been here every day,” she went on, her voice gentle. “Sleeping in that chair, even with his bad back. He only left about an hour ago—I practically had to force him to go home and rest.”

“Oh,” you breathed, the sound barely audible. The thought of Joel being here, keeping vigil while you lay unconscious, was almost impossible to fathom.

Why?

Was it guilt that kept him close?

You blinked, struggling to absorb the reality of her words. “Days?” The question tasted unfamiliar, heavy as it fell from your lips, the weight of it settling in your chest like a stone sinking to the bottom of a deep, dark lake.

How long had you been out?

“Yeah, honey,” Maria nodded, her hand smoothing over the blanket covering you, as if to reassure you with the small gesture. “But you’re okay now, I promise. The worst is over.”

With that, you nodded, surrendering to the pull of sleep as it reached out like an old, familiar embrace. You drifted away, slipping back into its depths with Maria by your side.

•••

People had come and gone, each one offering their reassurances and relief that you were okay. Tommy, Ellie, even a few of the patrolmen had stopped by, voices mixing together in a blur of well-wishes and murmured conversations.

But he hadn’t been here—not since you’d woken up. It gnawed at you, that empty space where Joel should have been. Your gaze drifted to the chair, its emptiness almost taunting, as though it knew who was missing. You could picture him there, sprawled out, his familiar form slouched back, the hardness of his jaw catching the dim light, as if sleep might take him at any moment. But the chair remained vacant, a silent reminder of his absence.

You lay propped against a stack of pillows, just as the doctor had instructed, your leg elevated in a makeshift splint. The “cast” was a patchwork of salvaged materials—wooden splints, thick strips of cloth, and pieces of an old brace, all bound together with whatever scraps could be scavenged. Vague flashes of pain flickered in your memory, the white-hot agony as they’d set the bone while you were only half-conscious. Even now, the thought of it sent a shudder down your spine. Everything blurred together—you must have blacked out from the pain. You had no recollection of how you’d made it back to Jackson. Perhaps they’d explain it all once you were stronger, but for now, the mystery lingered, hovering just out of reach.

Now, Tommy and Maria sat beside you, their presence a quiet comfort. The doctor—a woman in her late fifties, her graying hair pulled back in a loose braid—handed you a small bundle of pills wrapped in cloth. “Alright, here are your pain meds,” she said, her voice kind but firm. “Take these every day, okay? And don’t overdo it. If the pain gets too bad, you let someone know.”

You nodded, the instructions making you feel small and helpless, like a child being told what to do.

You nodded, barely listening as the doctor went on.

“Do you live alone, or…?”

“Yeah,” you replied, the word slipping out almost automatically. The reminder hit you like hard, the starkness of it unwelcome.

“Okay,” she continued, her gaze shifting to Tommy and Maria with a practiced look of concern. “You’re going to need someone to look after you for the next few weeks, at least. You’ll be on crutches, and getting around won’t be easy. The fracture was pretty nasty.” She glanced at the injury, her glasses perched low on her nose as she inspected it. “We did our best to set it, but you’ll have to take it slow for a while. The bone needs time to heal—and it’s not like we have proper casts and X-rays anymore.”

Maria's voice broke the silence, reassuring and no-nonsense. "We’ll take care of her, Doc. Don’t worry about that.”

The doctor gave a final nod before leaving, and Tommy and Maria helped you ease out of the bed, every small movement sending a jolt of soreness through your leg. It was a painstaking process getting you dressed and bundled into Tommy’s truck. The ride back was bumpy, every jostle a reminder of just how fragile your body felt right now.

•••

The house was quiet when you arrived, the air cool and still, carrying that unmistakable sense of emptiness that lingers when you return from a long absence. The familiar scent stirred something inside you, a reminder of what was left behind. It took both Tommy and Maria to help you inside, steadying the crutches under your arms and guiding you carefully through your home. Once you were settled on the worn couch, Maria draped a blanket over you.

“We’ll make sure you’ve got everything you need,” she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. “Tommy and I will check in every day. Ok?”

You offered a small, grateful smile, though it didn’t reach your eyes. The emptiness gnawed at you again, that absence like a weight pressing on your chest. And even though you didn’t say it, you couldn’t help but wonder why Joel hadn’t come to see you—why he hadn’t been there when you opened your eyes.

The question hung unasked in the silence, drifting in the air like dust suspended in the afternoon light.

•••

It was harder than you’d anticipated. True to their word, Tommy and Maria stopped by every day, but it was clear that Maria was struggling. Her pregnancy symptoms had worsened—nausea and vomiting so severe that some days she couldn’t even get out of bed, much less come over to help. Tommy did his best, but he was stretched thin, torn between caring for Maria and trying to be there for you.

When he showed up alone one morning, his face etched with worry as he helped you down the stairs, you knew something was off.

“Hey, kid,” he greeted, his voice softer than usual.

“Hey,” you replied, forcing a smile even as you leaned heavily on the crutch, each step sending a dull throb through your leg. It had only been a few days, and you were still getting used to it—the pain meds took most of the edge off, but a deep, relentless ache lingered, a constant reminder of how far you had to go.

“I got some bad news,” Tommy said once you were settled on the couch, his expression hesitant.

A pit formed in your stomach. “What is it?” you asked, your voice trembling despite your attempt to keep it steady. You couldn’t help but think of Maria and the baby. “Is it… is it Maria?”

He shook his head quickly. “No, no, she’s okay. As okay as she can be, anyway. The nausea’s been pretty rough lately.” His voice trailed off, and you could see the guilt etched on his face as he ran a hand through his hair, which looked more disheveled than usual. The dark circles under his eyes told the rest of the story—he probably hadn’t slept in days.

“I know I promised to be here every day, help out with whatever you needed, but… it’s been harder than I expected. She needs me more than I thought, and I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it here as often.”

“Tommy, don’t be ridiculous,” you said, your voice a little too sharp. The lie came easily, out of habit more than anything. “I can take care of myself.”

But you both knew that wasn’t true.

You could barely manage to get out of bed on your own, let alone keep up with the daily tasks piling up around you. “Take care of Maria. I understand, trust me,” you said, offering him a reassuring smile, though it felt a bit strained at the edges.

Still, you couldn’t help the sinking feeling that crept up inside you, a sense of being a burden that you couldn’t quite shake.

Tommy frowned, his gaze softening as he looked at you. “Darlin’, you’re in no shape to be alone,” he said gently. “But don’t worry—there are plenty of folks who can come by to check on you.”

“Who?” The word came out sharper than you intended, a hint of bitterness cutting through. It wasn’t really anger, just a raw insecurity that twisted inside you. You didn’t have anyone—not like Tommy and Maria had each other.

“Well, there’s Ellie… and Joel,” Tommy began, his tone almost cautious, as if even saying Joel’s name might be too much. “He’s… well, he hasn’t come by to see you yet, but—” He hesitated, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a fragile thread.

“He hasn’t come to see me,” you repeated, the words falling flat in the quiet room.

It wasn’t a question; it was an unspoken hurt that hung in the air.

“Why not?” you asked, even though a part of you wasn’t sure you wanted to hear the answer. Joel didn’t owe you anything; the past few months you’d spent together had been anything but friendly. So why did you expect him to be here? Why did his absence sting more than it should?

Tommy hesitated, rubbing the back of his neck as though searching for the right words, his gaze skirting away from yours. “He’s been… around,” he began slowly. “Been checkin’ in with Maria and me, makin’ sure you had everything you needed. But he…” Tommy hesitated, his voice dropping as he searched for the right words. “He just wanted to give you some space while you adjusted. Thought it might be what you needed.”

It was clear Tommy was struggling with the conversation, likely because of the awkward position he was in—Joel being his brother, after all. But there was something else behind his reluctance, something unspoken. After the attack, Tommy had seen firsthand just how far Joel was willing to go to save you. He’d watched his brother fight with a desperation that bordered on reckless, doing whatever it took to keep you alive.

Now, Tommy saw the truth clearly, piercing through Joel’s carefully maintained indifference toward you. He chastised himself for not seeing it sooner, for how thinly veiled Joel’s façade had always been. The reality of it all came to light after the attack, when Joel’s restraint shattered—he fought for you with a fierce, unyielding desperation, never once leaving your side. In those moments, his cold detachment dissolved, and the depth of his feelings bled through, unmistakable in the way he tended to you, as though keeping you safe was the only thing that mattered.

But it wasn’t his place to say anything; that was a conversation Joel needed to have with you. Tommy could only hope his brother would find the courage to speak sooner rather than later, though a part of him doubted it. He knew Joel too well—knew how stubbornly he kept his guard up, even when his heart was on the line.

“Oh,” you said softly, nodding as if the explanation made sense. “Okay.” You tried to believe him, tried to convince yourself that it was just Joel’s way of being cautious, of giving you the space you needed. But as it always did, doubt crept in, clawing its way up from some dark place inside. Old wounds had a way of reopening, their whispers cutting through the fragile comfort you tried to build.

What if he doesn’t really care? The thought sank its teeth in, a quiet voice reminding you of every time you’d been left behind, every promise that had turned to dust. The doubt was relentless, clawing at the edges of your mind, whispering that maybe, just maybe, you were fooling yourself. That Joel's absence was a choice—a choice to keep his distance, to keep you at arm's length, even now.

You looked away, swallowing against the tightness in your throat, wishing you could silence the voices that told you to expect the worst. Because sometimes, it was easier to accept doubt than to hope for something different.

After all, wasn’t it always the same? People keeping their distance, claiming they were doing it for your own good? It was a wound that hadn’t healed, a scar from years of being left behind. You told yourself not to think like that, not to read too much into it—but the hurt had a way of seeping in, even when you tried to hold it back.

If only you knew how much he did care—if only you remembered the lengths he had gone to, the sacrifices he made without a second thought. The men he had killed to save you, his hands stained with blood that wasn’t his own. The miles he trudged, his body battered and broken, fighting exhaustion and pain as he pushed forward because stopping meant losing you. How he had almost bled out for you, a deep wound gushing crimson, his vision blurring as he clung to consciousness with sheer stubbornness, all for the chance to see you breathe again.

If only you knew the hours he spent by your bedside, his rough hand wrapped gently around yours when he thought no one was watching. How he would sit there in the dark, his thumb tracing idle circles against your skin, his quiet vigil a testament to the depths of his worry. You didn’t see the way his shoulders sagged with relief whenever your chest rose and fell steadily, nor did you hear the whispered words he spoke when the night was at its darkest—words he could never bring himself to say when you were awake.

If only you knew how his heart shattered the moment he saw you kiss Sam. How the sight of it hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air from his lungs. He had to step outside just to breathe, to force himself to swallow the bitterness that rose in his throat. The jealousy burned hot and fierce, a mix of anger and hurt that tore through him as he watched Sam linger too long, his hands on you against your will, and Joel could’ve killed him right then and there.

If only you knew how his heart stopped the very first time he saw you, that instant when his gaze fell on you and the world seemed to quiet around him. It was a feeling that terrified him, a pull he didn’t understand, as though he’d been struck by something he hadn’t even realized he was missing.

“So, you’d be alright with him coming around?” Tommy asked, his voice gentle, almost hesitant, as if testing the waters. “He’d just help you up and down the stairs, morning and night, like I’ve been doing. He wouldn’t have to stay a second longer than you’re comfortable with.”

You hesitated, the thought of Joel being here, in your home—your sanctuary—sending a jolt of unease through you. The idea of him seeing you this vulnerable, laid bare, made your stomach twist. It would only confirm what he already thought about you—that you were clumsy, helpless, always in need of saving. And now, because you were his brother’s friend, he was stuck picking up the pieces.

“Tommy, I don’t want him to go out of his way,” you said, forcing your voice to sound steady, though uncertainty laced your words. “I can handle myself,—”

The words had barely left your mouth when your hand slipped, knocking the glass of water off the edge of the table. It hit the floor with a sharp crack, the water spilling out in a widening puddle, and you winced at how your body tensed, too slow to catch it.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, giving you a look that said more than words ever could.

You sighed, slumping back against the cushions. “Fine,” you muttered.

“Good,” Tommy said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “He’ll be here tonight, then. And Maria and I will still drop by once she’s feeling a bit better.” He flashed you a grin, his eyes warm with relief. “But listen, kid,” he added, his tone growing playfully stern, “if you ever die on me, I’ll kill you myself.”

You returned a smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes; your mind was preoccupied with the thoughts swirling in your head. Deep down, you knew you couldn’t keep refusing help, no matter how much you hated the feeling of being a burden.

•••

That afternoon, you did anything and everything you could to distract yourself. You read the same page of a book over and over, the words slipping away before they could take root. You scribbled in an old notebook, your handwriting growing messier with each line, the sentences trailing off into nothing. You even watched the people passing by your window, their faces unfamiliar, their footsteps echoing in the stillness of the day.

But no matter how hard you tried to push it away, the thought of him coming around tonight lingered in the back of your mind—persistent and unwelcome. It gnawed at you, that quiet anticipation twisting itself into anxiety.

What would he say? Would he say anything at all? How would he act?

You wondered if his touch would linger, like it sometimes did in those fleeting moments when you weren’t sure if you had imagined it or if it had been real. The uncertainty wrapped around you like a thick fog, leaving you on edge, caught between hope and fear. Would he bring warmth or distance? The question hung heavily in the air, refusing to let you find any semblance of calm.

You shifted restlessly, your leg aching from the hours spent sitting still, but you didn’t know what else to do. Nothing seemed to quiet the thoughts racing through your head, the uneasy flutter in your chest. All you could do was wait, counting down the hours and distracting yourself with anything that kept you from thinking about the fact that, soon, he would be here. And you weren’t sure you were ready to face him, to face whatever came next.

•••

You hobbled over to the mirror, the crutches clicking on the worn floorboards with every step. The reflection staring back at you made your breath catch in your throat. You looked awful—scratches and bruises marred your face, a dark purple mottling your cheekbone. Your hair was a mess, barely held together by a loose braid, and your eyes were shadowed with deep, dark circles. You didn’t recognize the girl in the mirror, bruised and battered, looking like a stranger you’d crossed paths with in another lifetime.

You suddenly felt a stab of self-consciousness that took you by surprise, the thought prickling at the edges of your mind. Why did it matter what you looked like right now? You shouldn’t care—but still, the feeling lingered, a quiet discomfort crawling under your skin.

You hadn’t expected to be seen like this, so vulnerable and broken. There was a time when you’d been self-reliant, stubbornly independent, but here you were again, needing someone… needing Joel.

Your thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a knock at the door, breaking the stillness of the room. You glanced at the clock—7:00 p.m on the dot.

It was Joel.

“Come in,” you called out, your voice catching in your throat as you angled your body toward the door.

The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the doorway. Joel stepped inside, his gaze sweeping over you with a quick, assessing look. His eyes flicked to the crutches, the bruises on your face, and then back to your own eyes. For a moment, he seemed to hesitate, as if weighing what to say.

“Hey,” he said finally, his voice low and gravelly, as though the word itself carried more than just a greeting.

You nodded in response, unsure of what to say, the silence between you heavy with unspoken things. There was an unease that hung in the air, not quite tension but something close to it— And yet, seeing him standing there, his expression guarded but not unkind, stirred something in you - deep and unsettling

“Didn’t mean to keep you waitin’,” Joel added, his eyes lingering on the scratches along your jaw.

He stayed near the doorway at first, the corridor stretching between you like a gulf neither of you knew how to cross. “It’s okay,” you whispered, trying to sound casual, but the tension in your voice betrayed you, your hands gripping the crutches for support. There was too much unsaid, too much hanging in the air between you both.

Joel took a few steps forward, his gaze never leaving yours. That’s when you noticed the limp, the subtle hitch in his stride that he tried to shrug off. Your eyes flickered down to his leg, and your eyebrows furrowed with concern. He was hurt—there was no mistaking the way he winced as he moved, a slight grimace crossing his features that he tried to mask with a tough exterior.

“Just a graze,” he said, catching your gaze before you could look away, his voice dismissive. But the tightness around his mouth, the way his jaw clenched with each step, betrayed him. It wasn’t just a graze, and you both knew it. Did he forget you’d seen him get stabbed? The memory of it was still vivid—how he’d staggered, the blood soaking through his jeans.

You didn’t know what to say. The air between you felt thick and stifling, almost hot, like there was too much pressure building and nowhere for it to go. His presence filled the room, and the space between you seemed to shrink and stretch all at once, charged with everything you weren’t saying.

Joel’s gaze swept over you again, taking in the bruises, the cuts, the exhaustion etched into your face. It made his chest ache in a way that was almost physical, like someone had squeezed his heart and wouldn’t let go.

When Tommy had told him you’d woken up, the relief had been overwhelming, nearly knocking the breath out of him. But it was quickly followed by a familiar pang of worry—worry that he wasn’t ready to face you, that the things he had said to push you away still lingered too heavily in the air. The memory of his last words to you was a constant knot in his chest, a reminder of how his fear had driven him to build walls between you… and of the bitter regret that came afterward, unyielding and sharp.

That was why he hadn’t come to see you. Every day, he found himself at your door, his hand hovering just inches from knocking, but doubt tightened its grip, pulling him back each time. It wasn’t until Tommy asked him to step in that he finally crossed the threshold. Joel knew the truth had dawned on his brother—the way things had unfolded left little room for secrets. But Tommy had kept his silence, letting the unspoken truth linger between them, and for that, Joel was grateful.

He took another step closer, and you noticed his gaze softening just a fraction. “How’re you holdin’ up?” he asked, his voice quiet and hesitant, as if he wasn’t sure you wanted him to ask. There was a vulnerability in his tone that made your heart race.

He crossed his arms over his chest, a gesture that, unbeknownst to you, was a silent act of restraint—as if by folding himself inward, he could physically prevent his hands from reaching out to trace the bruise on your cheek or gently comb his fingers through your hair. It was a protective barrier, not against you, but against his own unruly impulse to close the distance between you.

You met his eyes, trying to read the expression in them—trying to make sense of the storm brewing in your own chest. “I’m managing,” you replied, though the waver in your voice told a different story.

“Good,” Joel said, but the word came out rough, like it hurt him to say it. He took one more step, as if testing the waters, trying to bridge the distance between you. But even with the few feet that still separated you, it felt like there was an entire world keeping you apart.

“You ready for bed?” Joel asked, his voice low, but softer than you remembered.

“Yeah,” you replied, your stomach tightening as you remembered why he was here. The weight of his gaze felt heavy on your back as you began the slow journey toward the stairs.

The climb was harder than usual, each step sending a dull throb through your leg, and the silence between you seemed to grow thicker with every inch. Joel was close behind, his hand hovering near your back, as if he wasn’t sure whether to touch you or let you handle it on your own.

You were almost halfway up when your crutch slipped on the edge of the stair, your balance giving way beneath you. You let out a small gasp as you stumbled forward, and in an instant, Joel’s hands were on you—strong, steady, catching you before you could hit the ground.

“Sorry,” you breathed, the word slipping out almost inaudibly as he held you. Embarrassment washed over you, a warm flush rising to your cheeks as his touch made you feel exposed, vulnerable. His grip was firm, his fingers pressing into your arm with a quiet desperation, as though he was afraid to let go. You were close now—closer than you had been that day at the lake, when the water blurred the lines between you. His scent wrapped around you, familiar and heady, pulling you back into a moment you weren’t sure you wanted to escape.

“You’re fine,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment longer, his brow furrowing slightly as though he wanted to say something else. But he didn’t, instead he helped you regain your footing, guiding you up the rest of the stairs with a gentleness that made your chest ache.

When you finally reached your bedroom, you hesitated in the doorway, a strange sense of vulnerability washing over you. Joel’s presence here, in this space that had always been yours alone, made the room feel smaller somehow, more intimate. It was the first time he’d ever stepped inside your sanctuary, and you could see him taking in the details of your world—the faded quilt draped over your bed, the stack of books teetering on the nightstand, their covers worn and pages dog-eared from countless readings. His gaze lingered on the half-open drawer, where a few shirts had spilled out, as if it were a glimpse into your life, a life he had only touched from a distance. You felt a flutter in your chest, a mix of embarrassment and something deeper, more meaningful.

He turned to you, helping you sit on the edge of the bed, his hands lingering at your waist before he stepped back. You watched him as he took another glance around the room, his gaze moving from the old, threadbare rug to the small collection of trinkets on the dresser—little things you’d kept over the years, reminders of the life you’d built even in this broken world.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from him—the way his jaw tightened, as if he was struggling to hold something back, the way a few strands of hair fell over his forehead, unkempt and tempting your fingers to brush them away. Your head throbbed, and you wondered why you were thinking these things—was it the medication clouding your mind, or was it something deeper, something you’d been avoiding for far too long? There was a tension in the set of his shoulders, a heaviness to his stance, as though he was carrying a weight that wasn’t his alone, but yours as well.

“You take your meds yet?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence, “Doc said two at night.”

Your brow furrowed, a small frown forming as you looked at him. “How do you know what the doctor said?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

Joel’s gaze flicked to yours, something unreadable flashing in his eyes before he glanced away, his jaw tightening again. “Tommy told me,” he said after a beat, but there was something about the way he said it—too casual, too quick—that made you wonder if that was the whole truth.

The silence stretched out between you, thick with things neither of you knew how to say.

“Yeah, they’re in that drawer over there,” you said, motioning with your hand. Joel walked over, pulling open the old wooden drawer, and you couldn’t help but notice the way he groaned softly as he bent down. The sound made something tighten in your chest—a sudden urge to help him, or to do something, though you weren’t sure what.

He straightened up with a slight wince, returning to you with the two pills in his hand. Just as he reached your side, your stomach betrayed you, grumbling loudly in the quiet room.

Joel raised an eyebrow. “Have you eaten dinner?” he asked, his tone almost challenging.

“Not hungry,” you muttered, brushing off the question, reaching for the pills.

“That sound says otherwise,” he shot back, his eyes narrowing. “Have you eaten anything today?”

“Too tired to cook,” you said with a shrug, trying to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. “I’ve had coffee.”

“Coffee isn’t food,” he retorted, the frustration slipping into his voice. He didn’t seem to notice how close he’d gotten, his presence filling the space between you.

“Joel, it’s fine. Just gimme the meds,” you insisted, reaching for the pills. But he pulled his hand back slightly, just out of your reach.

“No,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “Not lettin’ you starve to death. I’ll be back in a bit. You okay here?”

You stared at him, a protest forming on your lips, but the look in his eyes made it die before you could speak. There was a stubbornness there, a refusal to back down. It was the same look he always had when he was dead set on something, and you knew you weren’t going to change his mind.

“Fine,” you muttered, sinking back against the pillows. “But don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“I won’t,” he said, though the corners of his mouth twitched like he was fighting a smile. And with that, he turned and headed for the door, leaving you in the quiet of your room with a strange warmth curling in your chest that you didn’t quite know what to do with. As you listened to his footsteps fade down the stairs, you found yourself staring at the empty doorway, wondering why the thought of him coming back made you a tinge nervous.

You lay in bed, the quiet ticking of the clock blending with the distant sounds of pans clattering downstairs. The noise echoed faintly through the house, and you couldn’t help but think of Joel, moving around down there. The thought of him in your kitchen—cooking, of all things—felt oddly domestic, almost jarringly so. You stared at the ceiling, your mind wandering back to the last few hours, trying to piece together why he was being so… nice.

It wasn’t that you doubted his capacity to care; you had glimpsed his protective nature before, you had seen it in the way he interacted with Tommy and Ellie.

But this—him going out of his way to make you dinner, staying when he could have easily kept his distance, when he could have helped you up to bed and left within minutes—felt different.

You couldn’t help but question his motives. Was it guilt that drove him? A sense of duty? Or was it something far more complicated, something unspoken that seemed to pulse in the silence between you?

You shook your head, trying to dismiss the spiraling thoughts. After all, Tommy had asked Joel to look after you; it wasn’t like he could have said no. But even that explanation didn’t fully quell the uncertainty brewing inside you. The nagging feeling lingered, urging you to confront the reality that maybe, just maybe, his care went beyond brotherly duty.

The smell of cooking began to drift up the stairs, pulling you out of your thoughts. It started as a faint hint of spices, then grew stronger, filling the room with the warm, savory aroma of whatever he was making. Your stomach twisted with a mix of hunger and something you couldn’t quite name, a flutter of nervous anticipation that made you shift restlessly against the pillows.

A few minutes later, you heard the sound of the stairs creaking under Joel’s weight as he made his way up, and your pulse quickened. When he appeared in the doorway, you could see the steam rising from the bowl he carried.

“Here,” Joel said, his voice low as he stepped closer, placing the bowl carefully on your lap. His touch was surprisingly gentle, the kind of care that sent a quiet ache through your chest. You felt the warmth of the bowl seep into your skin, a small comfort against the chill that always seemed to linger.

“Joel, you didn’t really need to do this,” you said, your voice softer than you intended. There was something vulnerable in the way you spoke, almost as if you were trying to deflect the tenderness behind his gesture.

It was no big deal right?

“It’s nothing,” he replied, brushing off your thanks as he turned to find a seat. “Just eat.”

You didn’t expect him to stay, but he pulled up a chair from the corner of the room and sank into it, his gaze fixed on you. There was a quiet intensity in the way he watched, a kind of tension that coiled tightly between you both. As you took your first bite, you became painfully aware of the bruises on your face, the dark circles under your eyes, and the tangled mess of your hair. You felt exposed under his gaze, the awareness prickling across your skin.

“Is it alright?” he asked, his voice laced with a softness you’d never heard from him before.

You swallowed, the flavors rich and satisfying, better than you could have hoped for. “Yeah, it’s perfect,” you said, and though the words were simple, they carried a weight you hadn’t expected. “I didn’t know you could cook.”

He gave a half-shrug, his eyes drifting away for a moment, lingering on the worn floorboards beneath his feet. “You kinda have to learn when you’re not just feedin’ yourself,” he said quietly, his voice shifting into a tone that hinted at a past he rarely spoke of. The words hung in the air, delicate yet weighty, creating an invisible thread between you that tugged at something deeper, something unspoken.

You could sense the layers beneath his casual remark, the unguarded glimpse into a life filled with responsibilities and sacrifices. It made your heart race, drawing you closer to the vulnerability he often kept hidden. In that moment, the silence between you felt charged with meaning, echoing the unsaid stories you had yearned to hear.

You saw a flicker in his eyes, a shadow of a life that felt far away and unreachable. He was talking about before, about a time when he wasn’t alone. When he had someone to take care of, someone who depended on him.

“You used to cook for someone else?” you asked, your voice quiet and almost hesitant. “Your… wife?” The words slipped out before you could stop them, and a pang of anxiety gripped you. For a brief moment, you feared you had overstepped, that you’d messed up the one time Joel had allowed himself to share even a small piece of his past.

Joel’s expression shifted, a flicker of something deep and raw passing over his features. He shook his head, his jaw tightening as if bracing himself against the words. “No,” he said, the word coming out low and rough. “My daughter.”

The room seemed to hold its breath, the silence pressing down on you both. You hadn’t expected that answer, hadn’t expected the weight it would carry. There was a depth in his voice, a quiet pain that spoke of a love that had been lost, and the hurt that came with it. It hung in the air between you, heavy and unspoken, like a wound that had never quite healed.

Your chest tightened, a swell of emotion rising within you—part sympathy, part quiet understanding. It explained so much—the way he kept a watchful eye on those around him, the way he cared for Ellie with a fierce yet unspoken tenderness, the protective instinct that lingered even when he kept his distance. You saw it clearly now, the echo of the father he used to be.

“I didn’t know…” you started, the words faltering as you tried to find something, anything, that wouldn’t sound hollow or empty. But what could you say to a man who had already lost so much?

Joel just gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he didn’t expect you to say anything. “A long time ago,” he murmured, the edge of his voice roughened by the years. “Feels like a different life.”

And with that, the silence settled in again, but this time it felt different—more like an understanding shared in the quiet spaces than a chasm between you.

The rest of the meal unfolded in a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need words to fill the space. You were both absorbed in your own thoughts, though neither of you realized that they kept circling back to each other. Joel’s gaze flickered toward you now and then, watching with a quiet intensity as you ate. He noticed the slight tremor in your hand as you lifted the spoon, the way your brow furrowed with each careful bite. There was a vulnerability in those small, deliberate movements—in you—that tugged at something deep within him.

When you finally finished, you set the bowl aside and offered him a small smile. “Can you…?” You hesitated, feeling the weight of the request, even though it was a simple one. “I need some help getting to the bathroom.”

“Yeah, of course,” Joel replied, practically leaping to his feet, his eagerness almost surprising you. He moved quickly to your side, his hand steadying you as you stood. There was a tenderness in the way he supported your weight, his grip firm but not overpowering.

“Thanks,” you murmured as he helped you down the hall, your voice quiet against the stillness. After brushing your teeth, you leaned on him again as you made your way back to bed, each step a little easier with him by your side.

Back in your room, you sank beneath the blankets, the day’s fatigue and the weight of the medications settling over you like a heavy fog. It was time for Joel to leave, and you could feel the air shift—an almost imperceptible change in the atmosphere now that his task was complete.

“You gonna be okay?” he asked, concern lacing his words.

“Yeah,” you replied, nodding slightly. “Thanks again, Joel.”

“Don’t mention it,” he said, his tone almost dismissive, but there was something softer in his eyes. As he turned to go, his hand reached for the small lamp that cast a warm glow across the room.

“Can you… keep it on?” The words tumbled out before you could stop them, a quiet admission that made your cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Just… for tonight.”

Joel’s hand froze mid-motion, and when he looked back at you, his gaze softened. “Yeah,” he murmured. “Of course.” There was a faint ache in his chest, the idea of you lying here in the dark, alone and scared. It stirred something fierce in him, an urge to stay—to sit by your bedside, to wrap his arms around you and promise that you’d be safe. But he didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.

“Alright,” he said, his voice low and gruff again. “I’ll be here tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” you murmured, leaning back and resting your head on the pillow. “Goodnight.” Your voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, drifting through the quiet room.

He nodded and turned, the soft creak of the floorboards marking his departure. You listened to his footsteps as he walked down the stairs, each one growing fainter. The house felt colder without him in it, the warmth he’d brought with him fading into the night.

Your thoughts drifted back to what had just happened. The way Joel had opened up, even if only for a moment. The glimpse into a past he kept guarded, the vulnerability he’d shown in sharing that part of himself with you. It was rare, and it was real, and you could sense that something had shifted between you.

As you stared at the dim glow of the lamp, a quiet ache settled deep in your chest—a longing for something unspoken, still taking shape in the silence you shared. It lingered in the spaces where words had failed, in the glances that spoke more than you dared to acknowledge. But beneath that yearning, there was also a wall—a familiar fear tightening around your heart, warning you against letting him in again, only to be hurt all over again. The possibility of reopening old wounds kept you guarded, even as the ache for something more refused to fade.

•••

The next few days passed in a quiet, unexpected rhythm—something that felt almost like domestic bliss, though you hardly dared to call it that. Joel came by every morning and evening, helping you with the mundane tasks that had somehow become monumental—getting you out of bed, steadying you on your crutches, making sure you didn’t push yourself too hard. He never said much, never offered any explanations for why he was being this way. But his actions spoke louder than words, a silent devotion that was as confusing as it was comforting.

He made you breakfast and dinner without a word, the smell of sizzling eggs or simmering stew becoming a familiar, almost soothing part of your day. There was a quiet care in the way he placed the plate in front of you, the way he made sure you ate before he’d allow himself to sit down. It was in the little things, the quiet gestures that spoke of a protectiveness you hadn’t expected, but found yourself welcoming all the same.

You noticed how easily you had grown accustomed to it all—the sound of the door turning, signaling his arrival; the faint scent of his shampoo that lingered in the air when he leaned close to help you; the warmth of his hands, rough but steady, as he guided you out of bed in the morning and back into it at night. You found yourself looking forward to the soft murmur of his voice, the way his presence seemed to fill the room without overwhelming it.

And it scared you, just a little—how you had almost become too comfortable, too used to this new normal. There was a part of you that knew it couldn’t last, that eventually, things would have to go back to how they were before. But for now, you allowed yourself to savor it, to sink into the simple pleasure of having someone there, of not feeling so alone.

It was easy to pretend, in those moments when he was near, that the world wasn’t as broken as it was. Easy to forget, if only for a while, that this wasn’t really yours to keep.

Little did you know, Joel felt the same. Each time he came over, it was as if he was easing into a life he hadn’t known he still yearned for—a life where caring for someone wasn’t just a burden but a choice he made every day. In the quiet moments spent helping you up the stairs or preparing a simple meal, he found a strange kind of solace. It was a way for him to show how much he cared without having to say the words aloud, words that felt too heavy, too close to the heart he kept so tightly guarded.

He poured his feelings into the little things—into the way he made sure your coffee was just the way you liked it, the way he lingered an extra moment to tuck the blankets around you at night, or the way his hand would steady your shoulder as you wobbled on the crutches. It was in the way he watched you when you weren’t looking, his gaze softening with a tenderness he wasn’t sure he had any right to feel.

Joel had never been good with words, especially when it came to emotions. But this—this quiet care—was something he could offer, a way to be close to you without crossing the unspoken lines that had kept him at a distance for so long. It was as if, in these simple acts, he could bridge the gap between you, express everything he couldn’t say in a way that felt real, solid.

With each passing day, he found himself wanting more—wanting to linger a little longer, to find more reasons to be near you, to close the distance between you inch by inch, to press his lips against your wounds and soothe the ache beneath them. But even as the lines between you began to blur, he couldn’t help but wonder if you felt it too—the subtle shift, the quiet understanding that had nestled itself in the spaces between the familiar routines. Sometimes, he thought he saw it in your eyes, a flicker of recognition, as though you sensed the change but weren’t yet ready to name it.

•••

Just like the nights before, Joel had helped you into bed after making you dinner. He had left your room a while ago, and now you lay there, your mind racing. The memory of his touch lingered—the way his fingers had brushed against your arm as he steadied you, the warmth of his hand lingering even after he’d pulled away.

The lamp still cast its soft glow across the room, a gesture you’d grown to appreciate. Joel hadn’t tried to turn it off since that first night; it was a quiet kindness, one he hadn’t spoken of, but it said more than words ever could.

You tossed and turned, struggling to find a position that didn’t worsen the dull ache in your leg. You’d only taken one pain pill tonight, ignoring Joel’s gentle reminder to take two, as the doctor had instructed. It had been a mistake. You told yourself you could start cutting down, but the pain pulsed deep in your bones, each throb growing sharper and harder to ignore. Reaching toward the side table, you fumbled for the second pill, but your fingers froze when you realized the glass of water was all the way across the room, just out of reach.

“Fuck,” you whispered under your breath, frustration flaring within you. With a burst of determination, you threw off the covers and opted to hop across the room on one leg, leaving the crutches behind. But the instability of your injured foot and the darkness of the room conspired against you. Suddenly, the floor slipped out from under you, and you fell hard, the impact twisting your leg in a way that sent a shockwave of pain coursing through your body. A sharp cry escaped your lips, the intensity of the agony so overwhelming that tears sprang to your eyes, blurring your vision as the world around you tilted dangerously.

It took a moment for the world to stop spinning, and when it did, you realized Joel was suddenly beside you, his arms wrapping around you before you could fully process what had happened. “Hey, hey, you’re okay,” he said, his voice steady yet edged with panic. “What were you doing?”

His eyebrows were furrowed, worry unmistakable in his brown eyes as they searched your face for signs of injury. His hands moved to cradle your shoulders, his grip both firm and gentle, as if he was afraid you might shatter at any moment.

“Joel, you’re still here?” you gasped, your voice strained as you tried to focus through the pain.

“Here, let me get you up, slowly,” he said, already lifting you, his movements careful and deliberate. He helped you back onto the bed, then quickly fetched the water and pain pill, bringing them to your trembling hands. You took the pill, grimacing as you swallowed.

Joel’s questions came in rapid succession, his worry evident in every word.

“Are you okay? Do I need to get you to the doc? What the hell happened? Why were you out of bed?”

His voice shifted between concern and frustration, each syllable laced with an urgency that made your heart race.

“It’s nothing, Joel,” you murmured, though your voice lacked conviction. “I just needed water, and it would’ve only taken a second.” You glanced at him, your brow furrowing. “But… why were you still here?”

His expression faltered, a hint of flustered uncertainty passing over his face. “I—well, I stay,” he admitted, almost reluctantly, his words tumbling out in a way that revealed more than he intended. “Just for a while. Till I know you’re asleep.”

There was a vulnerability in his admission, a softness that contrasted sharply with the tough exterior he usually maintained.

You blinked, taken aback by the confession. “You… wait for me to fall asleep?”

The thought of Joel—gruff, guarded Joel—sitting quietly for hours, just to be sure you were safe, sent something rippling through your chest.

“When I hear you snoring, I know you’re asleep, and I can step out—”

“I do not snore!” you shot back, despite the way your heart quickened at the thought. But the hint of a smile tugged at his lips, softening the hard lines of his face.

“Yes, you do,” he said, his voice gentler now, almost teasing.

You scoffed, shaking your head, though the warmth of his words lingered. “Well, thank you… but you don’t need to stay.”

Joel’s eyes darkened with something serious, something almost vulnerable as he said your name softly. “Imagine if I hadn’t been here tonight. You’d have been on that floor till morning.”

The reality of it sank in, the thought of lying there, helpless and in pain, with no one to hear you. You swallowed, the tension in the air thickening, the weight of his concern pressing down on you.

“I think I should stay over,” he continued, his voice steady but carrying an undertone of resolve. “At least for a bit, until you’re more stable on your feet. Only if you’re okay with it.”

There was no denying the sincerity in his eyes, the way his gaze held yours, unflinching and unguarded. The quiet worry etched into his features told you everything you needed to know—Joel wasn’t just offering to help; he needed to be here, to be sure you were safe.

Was this also part of his brotherly duty to Tommy? Or was this something more?

You just nodded, taking another sip of water, the tension still crackling softly in the air between you. “Okay,” you murmured.

“I’ll be on the couch,” Joel said, his voice quieter now, as if he were offering you reassurance rather than just stating a fact. “You need anything, you just holler, alright?”

“Goodnight,” he said, lingering in the doorway for a heartbeat longer, as if making sure you were truly settled.

“Goodnight,” you whispered back, the word barely more than a breath, but it felt like it carried more weight than usual. You watched him turn and walk out, his footsteps fading as he headed down the hall.

As the house fell into a familiar stillness, you lay back against the pillows, letting your eyes close. The sound of Joel settling on the couch echoed faintly through the walls, and you took a small comfort in knowing he was still there, just a shout away. It made the darkness seem a little less daunting, the ache in your leg a little more bearable.

•••

The next morning, as you sat in the kitchen, something caught your eye—a splash of color at the center of the table. Turning your head, you saw a vase filled with roses, their petals a rich, velvety shade of deep red, almost brown, offering a gentle contrast to the morning light streaming through the window. A smile tugged at your lips—a sincere, unguarded smile, the kind you hadn’t felt in a long while.

“Look,” you called softly, glancing toward the stove where Joel was busy cooking. The familiar sight of his broad back moving about the kitchen had become a comfort, a routine you had come to cherish. “Someone brought roses—my favorite.”

Joel glanced over his shoulder, his expression carefully neutral. “Yeah?” he said, though he was well aware of the flowers.

He had been the one to bring them, after all.

“They’re so pretty,” you continued, reaching out to brush your fingers over the soft petals, inhaling the sweet, delicate fragrance. “And they smell amazing. I’ll have to thank Tommy and Maria the next time I see them. They really brighten up the room.” You smiled to yourself, the thought of their kindness warming you. It was a small gesture, but it felt significant, a reminder that even in this harsh world, moments of beauty could still exist.

Joel just nodded, his back turned to you as he poured your coffee. “Mmhmm,” he murmured, the faintest hint of a smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

“They’re real pretty,” Joel said, but as the words left his mouth, his eyes weren’t on the roses—they were on you. There was a softness in his gaze, a warmth that made something flutter in your chest. You didn’t notice it at first, too focused on the delicate petals and the sweet scent that filled the air. You just nodded, your smile widening as you breathed in the fragrance again.

“They really are,” you murmured.

Joel didn’t say anything, merely offering a quiet grunt of acknowledgment as he handed you your coffee. You wrapped your hands around the cup, relishing the familiar comfort of its warmth, blissfully unaware that he had gone out of his way to find those roses for you. He had spent months listening to Tommy talk about you, absorbing all the little details—your favorite things—and carefully keeping them tucked away in his mind.

•••

The day passed in a blur of familiar routines. Joel was out on patrol, as he often was when he wasn’t at your place, leaving you to settle into the rhythm of the day. Tommy and Maria dropped by in the afternoon, filling the house with a brief burst of warmth and lively chatter. You noticed how Maria’s baby bump had grown, her hand instinctively resting on it with each movement. There was a radiant glow about her that made the future feel almost hopeful. You tried to soak in the comfort of their visit, letting thoughts of a future baby wash over you. It stirred a yearning deep within for the dreams you once held—of a husband, a family, and a home filled with love.

That evening, after dinner, you and Joel lingered downstairs longer than usual. The fire crackled softly in the hearth, casting dancing shadows on the walls as you found yourselves drawn into conversation. Joel had become more talkative lately, his gruff demeanor easing into something softer, almost companionable.

You’d asked him about patrol, and he’d shared more than you expected—details of the day, the quietness that hung over the forest, the way the world felt almost too still. There was an openness in the way he spoke, a willingness to let you into his world, even if only a little. It made the space between you feel smaller, more intimate.

But when the night grew late, you finally retreated to your room, slipping under the covers with a lingering sense of unease, one that would often creep up on the dead of night. But tonight, as you lay there, the dark seemed to press in closer than usual.

The memories came back with a vengeance—visceral and hauntint, vivid flashes of pain and terror. You could see the look on their faces, those men who had tied you up, the glint of cruelty in their eyes, the sound of their mocking voices. The memory of your leg snapping, the sharp, blinding agony, and the sight of your own blood pooling beneath you—all of it rushed back in fragments, relentless and suffocating.

You were caught in the grip of a night terror, your heart racing like a drum against your ribs. Sweat soaked through your clothes, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you thrashed against the sheets. You felt trapped, unable to wake yourself from the nightmare, your body locked in the awful, helpless fear that had consumed you then.

In the dream, you were calling out for help, your voice echoing in the darkness, but no one could hear you. It was like screaming into a void, each cry swallowed up by an unforgiving silence. The world around you was twisted and wrong—faces you recognized lay lifeless on the ground, unmoving. Tommy, Maria… Joel. They were all gone, and the sight of them sprawled out in the dirt, blood pooling beneath their bodies, filled you with a terror so deep it felt like you were drowning.

You kept screaming, clawing at the darkness, but there was no one left to answer. The emptiness swallowed you whole, pulling you down, down, until—

Suddenly, a jolt of sensation ripped through the nightmare. Someone was shaking you, pulling you back from the abyss. The darkness shattered into a blur of movement and sound as you struggled to orient yourself. The nightmare's suffocating grip began to loosen, and you gasped for air, blinking furiously to clear the lingering terror from your mind.

“Hey, hey! You’re okay—wake up,” a voice urged, rough and panicked. You blinked up at Joel, his hands on your shoulders, shaking you gently but urgently, his face etched with a fear that was all too real. “It’s just a dream,” he said, his voice low and steady as he tried to calm you.

Tears streamed down your face, hot and unrelenting, as if all the fear and pain of the nightmare were pouring out in a flood you couldn’t control. Your chest heaved with each breath, the sobs wracking your body as you struggled to come back to reality. It was like the terror had followed you, clinging to your skin, and no matter how hard you tried to blink it away, the images still burned behind your eyes.

Joel’s grip on your shoulders tightened, his touch grounding you, anchoring you in the here and now. “Hey, look at me,” he said, his voice softer now, almost pleading. “You’re safe. It was just a dream. I’ve got you.” He reached up to brush the tears from your cheek with the pad of his thumb, his movements gentle, as though afraid you might shatter.

The tenderness in his gaze felt almost too much to bear, the concern etched into the lines of his face stirring something deep inside you—something raw and vulnerable that you weren’t sure how to face. You didn’t know what to say, couldn’t find the words to explain the depth of the fear that still clung to you. All you could do was cling to the sound of his voice, the warmth of his hands, and the quiet strength that held you together even as you fell apart.

“You were all…” you gasped, the words tumbling out in a broken, frantic rush. “You were all gone… and they—they had me tied up…” The rest of the sentence fell away, your voice faltering as the horror of the dream clung to you, its shadow still lingering in your mind. The words didn’t make sense even to you, but they spilled out anyway, desperate and raw.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright, sweetheart,” Joel murmured, his voice a soothing rumble that felt like a balm against the jagged edges of your fear. If you had been more conscious and less consumed by terror, you might have realized the weight of the endearment he used—how sweetheart fell from his lips so naturally, as if the word itself had been created just for you.

He shifted closer, his hands cupping your face with a tenderness that took you by surprise. His thumb gently wiped away the tears that continued to streak down your cheeks, the contact grounding you in the moment. “I’m here. Nobody’s gonna hurt you, I promise.”

His gaze was steady and unwavering, holding you in the present, as if willing you to believe him. In that moment, the world felt small, contained within the warmth of his touch and the low, steady cadence of his voice. It was enough to make you feel anchored, as though the terror that had gripped you was beginning to ebb away, leaving only the thrum of your heartbeat and the safety of Joel’s presence in its wake.

Little did you know, that night haunted Joel just as deeply. It wasn’t just your cries that lingered in his mind—it was the echoes of the past, bleeding into the present. The screams of Sarah, the look of terror in your eyes, even Tess's pained expressions—they all mixed together in the haze of his own nightmares. The memories twisted and blurred into a chaotic swirl of pain, death, sorrow, and loss, each one clawing at him in the darkness.

He’d often wake up in a cold sweat, his heart racing, the remnants of those horrors gripping him tight. But there was one thing that kept him grounded, something that offered him a small measure of comfort: the sound of your soft, rhythmic breathing drifting through the quiet house. It wasn’t just a reminder that you were safe—it was a reminder that he hadn’t failed this time.

The past still weighed heavy on his soul, but the knowledge that you were there, alive and still fighting, was enough to keep the darkness at bay… at least for a little while.

Your breathing had finally begun to steady, each inhale less ragged than the last. Joel stayed by the edge of your bed, his hand still resting on your shoulder, waiting for you to give some sign that you were okay, that he could go back to the couch downstairs. But instead, your gaze met his, the tears still glistening in your eyes, unspoken words trembling on your lips.

“Could you…” you began, your voice wavering as you struggled to get the rest out. “Could you stay?”

He frowned slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I’m already downstairs,” he said softly, as though reminding you of his usual spot. “You know that.”

“No, I mean…” You swallowed, your voice barely above a whisper, almost afraid to say the words out loud. “Here. With me.”

The request hung in the air, fragile and tentative, but the meaning was clear. Joel’s eyes widened ever so slightly, the surprise flickering there as if he hadn’t expected you to ask.

You caught the hesitation in his eyes, and suddenly, all the harsh words he’d ever thrown at you seemed to come crashing down at once—burden, useless—echoes of moments when you’d felt like nothing more than an inconvenience. Your cheeks burned with shame, and you dropped your gaze, stumbling over your words. “I mean… sorry, that was stupid,” you muttered, the regret already tightening in your throat. “It’s just my meds talking.”

“No.” His voice was firm, cutting through the fragile air between you. You looked up, and the expression in his eyes had changed—there was no trace of doubt left, only a quiet resolve. “I’ll stay,” he repeated, his tone gentler this time. “If you want me to.”

You nodded, and Joel didn’t hesitate this time. He moved around to the other side of the bed, his features softened in the glow of the lamp and the pale wash of moonlight that spilled in through the window. He dipped into the bed, settling carefully beside you. Even as he gave you space, you could feel the warmth radiating from him, a steady comfort that made your chest tighten.

You turned toward him, your voice barely above a whisper. “Thank you, Joel. I know I can be… a lot. I—”

“Hey.” He cut you off gently, his voice firm but soft, as though he was willing away the words before they could take hold. “Don’t do that.” His eyes found yours in the dim light, steady and unyielding, and the way he looked at you made your breath hitch, like he saw past all the broken pieces you tried to hide.

“You’re not a lot. You’re—” He paused, the words catching in his throat as if he hadn’t meant to say them aloud. “You’re someone worth looking after.”

His voice was low, roughened by the weight of things unsaid, and for a moment, you were too stunned to respond. There was no pity in his gaze, no trace of frustration or burden—just a quiet sincerity that sank deep into your bones.

You swallowed the lump forming in your throat and gave a small nod, your voice trembling as you whispered, “Okay.”

He reached out through the darkness, and your breath caught in your throat as he brushed a strand of hair from your forehead, his touch warm against your skin.

“Now try to get some rest,” he murmured, his tone soft and almost tender, like a promise wrapped in warmth.

As you closed your eyes, you felt the quiet reassurance of his presence, the way he stayed close enough for you to hear his steady breathing—the rise and fall grounding you, a reminder that you weren’t alone.

Not tonight. Not with him here.

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