#i gave her words of reassurance and comfort and the last words she heard me say were ''i love you'' | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

starmapz · 25 days ago

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what you know - ch9: (ex) friends || r. sukuna

❦ ryomen sukuna x f!reader [college au] [ongoing series]

❝ you've heard his reputation and you've seen first-hand the way he's late to class if he even bothers to show up. paired with him for the most important project of the year, you choose to give him the benefit of the doubt- but maybe that's more than he deserves when your perfect grades depend on him, or maybe there's more to the aloof and irritable sukuna than meets the eye. ❞

❦ cw ; mdni, 18+ only. contains explicit sexual themes and content. use of alcohol. use of cannabis. use of nicotine/cigarettes. angst. hurt/no comfort. hurt/comfort. implied injury. family trauma. mutual pining. smut. slow burn. anxiety. panic (attacks). mentions of difficulty eating. vomit. tags will be updated as series continues.

❦ additional tags ; college parties and themes. sukuna ooc warning as this is a realistic take on modern sukuna. reader is fairly preppy and implied to be smaller than sukuna, but he's 6"11.

❦ words ; 12.2k.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

With a soft click, the Career Services Office door shuts behind you. Dropping your bag on the bench just outside the door, you pull Shoko’s attention from her phone.

“So? How did it go?”

Slipping paperwork carefully into your bag, you nod. “Good! I only need to make a couple of changes to my resume and cover letter and they gave me some good suggestions for options,” you explain.

As a part of your final couple of semesters in your final year, your Copy Editing and Proofreading class has an internship requirement. On one hand it’s stressful, especially given that you’ll need to adjust your life to the schedule of having an internship on Tuesdays and Thursdays on top of classes throughout the week, but you’re also excited.

And then there’s the case of Sukuna.

Although you wouldn’t exactly call the last time you saw him a pleasant encounter given Sukuna had broken down, not to mention his abrupt departure, his emails had been a bit more reassuring.

[email protected] - Friday, 6:02 PM home?

[email protected] - Friday, 6:24 PM Home! Thanks for checking in, Kuna :)

[email protected] - Friday, 6:29 PM yeah. thanks for earlier. makes it easier to be around the kids

You had smiled to yourself as it seemed he was finally admitting to the fact that maybe help wasn’t so bad. Maybe he didn’t have to handle everything alone.

More encouraging still, was his follow up email.

[email protected] - Friday, 6:32 PM can you watch them more? i’ll find a way to pay you back after the trial

You hadn’t exactly considered the repercussions that looking after Sukuna’s little brothers would have on your schedule on top of the fact that you’re required to get an internship to graduate.

But if Sukuna can handle it, then you’re more than willing to bear some of his burden if it means he’ll accept your help. Maybe you can lessen the dark circles that seem burnt into his skin like a brand, even if it means you take on a burden of your own.

It’s worth it. He’s worth it.

Shoko groans, pulling your thoughts back to the present. “God, I hope my resume only needs a couple of tweaks. I don’t think it’s very good,” she mutters, pulling it out of her bag.

Peeking over the top of the paper, you shrug. “If it’s any consolation, it’s pretty.”

“Did you just call my resume dumb but pretty? I feel like you did,” she chides.

You laugh in unison with her, shaking your head. “I haven’t even read it! It’s probably more impressive than mine is.”

As her laughter dies down, Shoko rolls her resume up in her hand, batting your shoulder with the paper. “Nice save,” she snorts. Giggling, you step aside as she stands up to head into the Career Services Office next. “I’ll catch you later,” she waves as she steps inside.

Slinging your backpack over your shoulder, you make your way to the car and return home. As if projects and studying weren't enough, to think that you now also need to apply to publishing houses while competing with every other student in your program is… a lot.

With a sigh, you stretch your arms over your head as you take a seat at your desk and begin the long application process of applying to nearly every publishing house in town.

–

Rocking back and forth on the ball of your heels, adorned in cute knee-high boots that match your beige knit sweater, you await one of the three brothers at the door. Over the past couple of weeks, your tattooed counterpart has slowly allowed you to help him.

And thank god for that.

After the intensely emotional moment you’d shared with him outside his apartment after meeting with Hiromi, Choso and Sukuna’s behaviour had grown increasingly worrying. Yuji’s boisterous personality remained somewhat dulled with an underlying sadness, but every so often he would relax under your care and his giggles would light up the apartment.

Choso was a different story. You wondered often if he had heard the discussions between the four adults chatting about legal papers. His already extremely reserved personality had faded into a monotonous and ghostly presence of what was once a very bright and lively child. If ever someone had seemed to be running on auto-pilot, this was it.

Your concern had only grown when you’d stood beside Sukuna just outside of your Literature History class as he received a phone call from Choso’s teacher, concerned for his mental health and well-being.

How Sukuna is meant to explain his child brother refusing to speak not only to classmates, but even his teacher, neither of you truly knew. The pride Sukuna carries on his back that strains and weighs down his already heavy shoulders prevented him from telling the truth. He’s not the picturesque guardian that the school expects him to be at the end of the day, but to admit that he’s about to fight to keep his brothers in his custody feels like defeat to a man like Sukuna.

The battle hasn’t even begun and he’s already losing.

Sukuna remained nestled carefully within your heart, lighting a fire deep within that urged you to help him fight. Like a firefly, it seemed to buzz within, guiding you towards the man you’d come to know as surprisingly warm and thoughtful, in spite of his rougher edges.

Yet it seemed that man was buried under so many layers of stress that you hadn’t caught wind of that warmth in weeks. Sukuna had become somewhat of a shell of his former self too, more on edge and growing wearier by the day. You may see him every couple of days as you look after his brothers or he manages to make it to class or lunch, but between his quick departure and the bone-tired state he returns in after his shift, you don’t get many opportunities to speak.

The only positive you can find across the whole situation is that he’s accepting your help. He’s trying with what meager energy he can find.

In the midst of your troubles with the three brothers, your schedule had briefly become a scattered mess as well. Between running to interviews, classes in which Sukuna struggled to arrive in a timely manner, and looking after the boys, you had been spread thin as well.

At least your schedule would become more predictable, beginning today.

The door creaks open just far enough for Choso to peek up at you. His eyes are devoid of anything beyond recognition as he steps back to let you in. It tugs at your heartstrings to see him so withdrawn.

“Hey sweetie,” you greet him softly, gently ruffling his dark hair. He blinks as his hair, which has grown quite long now, falls into his face, obscuring his vision, though he doesn’t otherwise react.

With two months until the court date, you pray he comes out of his shell again. Two months of reserved silence doesn’t bode well for his mental health, especially when you’re certain Sukuna will win the case regardless.

Sure, his odds aren’t amazing, but those kids love him and in spite of the fatigue that plagues his mind and body, you catch glimpses of the fire lit within to win the court case.

“Where are your brothers?” You query with a small tilt of your head.

Choso’s gaze drifts to the hall where the bedrooms are. You shoot him a tight-lipped smile, sighing as you reach the hall. The bathroom door is shut, the sounds of running water penetrating the barrier. Brushing past the room, you poke your head into the open door to Yuji’s room. The most lively of the bunch, his feet are kicking as he sits at his desk, crayons scrawling across paper.

Stepping inside, you greet him with a smile.

His response isn’t as enthusiastic as you hoped, but he still calls your name out as his eyes brighten at the sight of you.

“Hey, sweetheart,” you ruffle his hair as you step up behind him to peer at his coloring page. To your surprise, it isn’t the Avengers book that he’s been coloring over the course of the past few weeks (Spider-Man is his favorite), but a page with a familiar blue hedgehog on it. You blink once as you recognize the pose, it looks like it’s straight from the cover of the GameCube game you’d left here a while ago. More notably, you notice that the lineart doesn’t gleam in the same way the printed pages usually do under the lamplight.

It’s drawn in marker.

Faint traces of erased lines remain at the edge of Sonic’s eyes (are they eyes? Is it one eye? How does that work?) and now that you’re standing over the desk more, you can see the faint outline of another character at his side. Shadow.

You smile to yourself, somewhat bittersweet, at the sweet sight of Yuji leaving the sketch blank and staying in the lines to the best of his ability. He likely hopes that at some point he’ll be able to complete his joint artistic effort with his brother.

The sound of a door opening grabs your attention and you excitedly make your way over to Sukuna, who’s clad in a blue polo and khakis. Clearly he’d be stocking shelves for the evening. Running a hand through long salmon locks, his eyes slide over to you as you appear from the doorway of his brothers’ room.

The dark circles under his eyes don’t look so bad today, though his expression remains stoic. There’s no cracks to his practiced facade of control, his crimson eyes set on your face as he examines the way you actually bound towards him, clearly excited. He raises an eyebrow as he casts his gaze down to your hands, fidgeting with the hem of your sweatshirt.

“Something happen?” He brings a hand up to casually scratch beneath the collar of his shirt, the polo material irritating against his skin.

“You remember how I needed to get an internship this semester?”

“Mhm.”

“Aaaaand you remember how I was really hoping to get a position in that printing house on the main bus route to save some money on gas?”

His lip quirks upwards at the corner as he takes a step towards you. One strong arm wraps around you in something between a headlock and a hug, causing you to giggle. “‘Course you got it. Atta girl,” though his tone lacks the usual timbre he reserves for you and his brothers, you can see the way something within him shifts, something akin to pride resonating through him.

With your face practically shoved into Sukuna’s way too bulky chest, your cheeks quickly warm. You’re more than positive that he can feel it when you stumble back as he releases you after a moment, a glimmer of mischief buried deep beneath the haze of exhaustion.

“Thanks Kuna,” you can’t help the way your eyes crinkle at the corners as your heart pounds in your chest.

Loving him from afar isn’t easy, but it’s better than not loving him at all.

Sukuna makes a motion that he’s headed for the kitchen. You trail after him, watching as he reaches into the fridge for leftovers and a water bottle.

Choso sits silently at the table towards the back of the apartment, leaning on his palm as he stares outside. With tupperware in one hand and a large metal bottle in the other, Sukuna pauses to stare at him. Something akin to guilt flashes through his eyes, but he quickly steels himself.

You briefly wonder if he believes he can win, something you’ve been doing your best to reassure all three brothers of. Something you genuinely believe.

“When do you start?” Sukuna gruffs, turning his attention back to you.

“Tuesday next week.”

“Excited?”

“I’m a bit nervous, but… yeah,” you smile, grateful he’s entertaining the conversation given how clipped chats with him have been over the last couple of weeks. During lunch or classes on campus, you can usually goad him into a conversation about your professor’s strange obsession with conspiracies (which turned out to be true, much to your dismay), but that’s the extent of his chatty mood usually. You don’t blame him, though. You know he’s worn thin.

The only sign that the Sukuna you know is still there are the minute breaks, the moments where he silently seeks your company, falling into step with you and letting his arm brush against yours. The days when he spreads his legs while he sits at the lunch table and you would give him a hard time for manspreading when his thigh leans against yours, but he only does it to you, so you second-guess teasing him.

“You’ll be fine,” he assures, taking a seat on the couch as he stuffs his dinner into his backpack. “You’re a hard worker.” He smirks, though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Compared to you, I seem like I sleep on the job.”

Your smile falters as Sukuna forces a laugh. “Hmph. Maybe.”

Sukuna’s capacity for conversation has grown infinitely thinner as the days pass and his sleep lessens. Where that leaves his anger and frustration simmering beneath the surface, he does what he can to keep it at bay, especially when it comes to you and his brothers. Unfortunately, it comes at the cost of his conversational skills.

The air grows quiet, interrupted only by the gentle creak of the chair that Choso shuffles quietly on and distant cars in the January cold.

“I can’t believe this is our last year,” you comment mostly for the sake of creating conversation. You know Sukuna doesn’t have much gas in the tank for it, but you find yourself wondering if talking at him helps ease his worries and distract him from the thoughts that plague his restless mind.

“Mm. You lookin’ forward to working?”

“I think so! What about you?

His gaze flashes towards you, narrowing slightly as he straightens, pulling a pair of keys from the bottom of his bag. “No.”

Heat creeps up the back of your neck. “You have time! Especially if you decide to change your major-”

“Why would I do that?” He snaps, lip curling into a snarl. Crimson irises flit between your wide eyes, your brow knit together by a crease.

Shit.

That carefully composed facade Sukuna’s been sporting the last week cracks, his simmering frustration crashing through the walls he’s erected to protect those around him from his own gripes.

Biting your lip in uncertainty, you stammer as you attempt to backtrack under his harsh stare. “I- I just thought-”

“Thought what? Thought I’d be better off doing something more useful? Something that makes more money?”

“What?” You blink as you process his cold tone. “No, I-” your words die in your throat as you examine his set jaw and the way he’s gripping his backpack with white knuckles. What really strikes you is the way something akin to offense gleams in his eyes. You’re accustomed to accidentally prodding where he doesn’t want you, but his edge isn’t usually so cold when you dig a little too deep into his psyche. “It just seemed like you were considering something else.” You want to tack on a mention of an art degree, but Sukuna scoffs before you can continue.

“Is history not good enough now, princess?”

You visibly recoil at the cold way his nickname for you slips off his tongue like venom. What nerve had you struck? “No, what-? No. I’m sorry, Sukuna. I just got the wrong idea, I guess.”

Maybe you shouldn’t have prodded into something that can be a touchy subject for him, but you thought you’d moved past this, and he asked first. Then again, this isn’t the Sukuna you’ve come to know after all these months. The man staring back at you is a product of a world that’s tearing him apart, his emotions awry.

But it still hurts when he takes it out on you.

With a sigh, he checks his watch. “I gotta fucking go,” he mutters, zipping up his bag and grabbing his coat from the rack near the door. Tossing them both on, he slips his hand into his pocket, surely shuffling through it in search of a cigarette, before the door shuts behind him with a slam.

You can only watch in confusion and dispiritedness as the lock flicks shut and the sounds of his footsteps fade outside.

One step forward… two steps back.

You sigh, shutting your eyes for a moment as you stare where he last was. Dragging your hands over your face, you push to your feet, deciding for once to forgo studying in favor of finding something to do with the kids. Maybe it’s time you litter the apartment in bead frogs to go with all the lizards that are still haphazardly strewn everywhere.

To your dismay as you turn towards the hall, you find Choso staring at you from the table. Fuck. You’d forgotten he was there. His expression is unreadable and your chest tightens.

With the most convincing smile you can muster, you usher him from his chair and lead him towards Yuji. “Did you two ever figure out how to make bead frogs?”

Choso’s deep brown eyes examine you as he stares straight up at you. “Are you okay?”

It chokes you up to hear the little boy worry about you. You don’t dare look at him, lest he see the way your eyes burn with salty warmth. So you just smile, nodding. “Of course! Let’s go find your brother.”

Hopefully your tone was more convincing than your expression.

–

The door opens thirty minutes later than usual. Both boys are already asleep (you hope), and have been for a while now, which is unusual for Sukuna’s evening shifts.

He pauses at the door with his keys, a habit you’ve noticed he picked up since the day he found Choso asleep on your lap and had nearly awoken him with the clattering of his keys on the table. When his eyes meet yours, he drops the keys onto the table and locks the door behind him without a word.

His backpack slides from his shoulder with a thud and a muffled clattering of utensils. “You can go.”

You purse your lips at his blatant dismissal of whatever the hell happened earlier. Had you really upset him that much?

“Sukuna, can’t we talk about-?”

He firmly says your name, his eyes steely as you stand and take a step towards him in an effort to reach out. “Not right now.”

Your heart drops into the pit of your stomach. It’s almost embarrassing; to stand there and so blatantly have him deny your request to talk things through after you’ve looked after his brothers for over nine hours. After he’s finally accepting your help and allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. “Please, Sukuna-”

Your name rolls off his tongue again, unyielding. “Go home.”

It’s always like this with him. Where that hole in your heart that Sukuna’s nestled so comfortably within eats away at its own chasm. It punctures you, twisting along with the way you still feel for him, knowing that his cold demeanor is the product of a world that threatens to crush him.

But the rational part of you is reminded of Kento and Shoko pulling you aside to warn you not to let him step on you.

Picking up your jacket and bag, you pull your boots on without shooting him another glance. “Asshole.” It slips past your lips before you can really think twice about it, but you’re too caught up in your emotions to care.

You’re gone before Sukuna’s frustration can flare and he’s standing alone in his apartment. The air is still, sound for the heavy air that suffocates him. The TV is still on, you were quietly watching Holes. He supposes there aren’t many non-horror options that you likely haven’t seen with the kids at this point given that he doesn’t have cable or any subscriptions of any kind.

His hair is sticking to his forehead, his skin sweat-slicked between his shoulder blades as he sits down on the couch, dragging his hands roughly over his face. The kids don’t usually pick this movie. He doesn’t remember it.

“You’re mean.”

Carefully guarded, Sukuna raises a brow. “Why’re you awake, brat? You got school tomorrow.” Choso doesn’t reply. With a sigh, the oldest brother scratches the back of his head. “She’ll come around, Choso. Go to bed.”

Choso stands his ground, not moving.

God, the first words he hears from his brother in days and it’s that he’s mean?

Is he really?

He examines Choso’s face, his eyes trailing up to the two bundles of his long hair gathered at the back of his head. Had you put his hair up? Surely the kid hadn’t done it himself. It suits him, and frankly Sukuna’s just glad his hair is out of his face.

He pokes the inside of his cheek with his tongue as he has a stare-off with his little brother.

This isn’t that big of a deal. He just didn’t want to hear you point out his inadequacies. He knows his major is useless. He knows he shouldn’t smoke. He doesn’t want to hear it. Surely he hadn’t been enough of a dick that he was wasting what had been laid out clearly as his last chance with you. Right?

You don’t curse often, but even you had called him an asshole.

“Fucking hell,” he mutters, pushing up from the couch and pulling on his shoes without a second thought. He’s down in the parking lot as fast as his legs can carry him, searching for your car. To his relief, you’re waiting for the engine to warm up in a guest parking spot.

He jogs over, knocking on the window. You bristle, practically jumping out of your skin at the sight of the burly man at your side.

“Sukuna, you scared me,” you gasp.

“Sorry.”

You frown, avoiding his gaze as you set your phone down. “It’s fine,” you mumble quietly. “What do you want?”

“To talk. About how I was an asshole.”

You stare blankly at him, quietly examining his face. “I told you that you had one chance-”

“Then don’t let it get that far. I’m not wastin’ my chance, I’m fixing things before it gets to that point.”

“It’s not fair that you get to decide when we do or don’t talk about things.”

Sukuna leans his forearms in your car, sighing as he hangs his head within the heat. Your car dips somewhat under his weight. “I know, princess.” He lifts his head, his crimson eyes gleaming in the glow of your dash lights.

You figured he would keep talking but when he just stares blankly at you, you find yourself sighing. “I thought you were letting me in. Letting me help.”

“You are helping me,” he points out.

“I’m helping the kids.”

“That helps me.”

Groaning, you frustratedly run a hand through your hair. “That’s not what I mean,” you grumble, shooting him a glare. “You keep pushing me away.” His fingers flex into fists as he leans into the warmth of your car further.

“It’s better this way.”

“You’re so frustrating,” you groan, slumping back into your seat. “It’s not better! I’m trying to be your friend, I’m trying to be here for you, but I can’t if you won’t let me in.”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches as he merely listens.

“Honestly, tell me what you would have done if I’d left like you asked me to when you had a panic attack.” You look at him expectantly, watching the way that the lights on your dash suddenly seem very interesting to him. He swallows hard, crossing his arms as he continues to lean into the car, perched on his elbows.

Your heat is working overtime to keep you warm as the air that slips past Sukuna clings to your skin, raising it in its wake. Sukuna seems unaffected by the cold, focused anywhere but you. His mind is racing, searching for an answer in the white noise of the car, as though the check engine light will provide the answers he’s searching for.

“You should check your engine.”

You want to groan, roll your eyes, and scream in frustration all at once, yet all you can manage is to stare, stunned to your core that those are the words he chose. Your hand finds the gear shift to put the car in reverse and finally he gives in.

“Fuck, wait.” He huffs, reaching way too close across your body with his long arm to stop your hand from moving the gear shift. His fingers are chilly as he pulls your hand back, proceeding with the familiar act of fiddling with your fingers.

Sensing that this won’t be a short conversation, you flick the key in the ignition once, shutting off the engine, but keeping the heat on. As the engine rumbles to a halt, the distant sounds of cars down the road and faint chatter fill the air. The bulb that illuminates the entry of Sukuna’s apartment continues to flicker, the occasional darkness casting a serious air over his sharp features.

“The first time I ever had one was the day after my dad died,” Sukuna admits with a strained voice. His thumb slides along your knuckles. “It didn’t matter how sick he was. He never wanted me to have to take care of my brothers more than for a few hours.” His face contorts into something between sadness and anger. “I didn’t know how to change a diaper. Didn’t know what Yuji liked eatin’ ‘sides chicken fingers and shit. I think he really believed she’d come back n’ take care of us, or at least them.”

Your lips part as you sympathetically squeeze his fingers, but you don’t dare interrupt.

“Had to look it up on YouTube. How to change a diaper, I mean.” He scoffs, bitter resentment painted across sunken eyes. “Yuji wouldn’t stop cryin’. It was all fuckin’ day, all the time. Must’ve been five in the morning when I finally got both kids asleep at the same time.” His tongue runs along the seam of his lips. “Dunno if you’ve had one before,” he casts a glance at you as he references a panic attack, as though he’s unwilling to admit what it is. You nod. “But I just remember layin’ on the floor of the washroom, staring at the ceiling. Couldn’t tell ya how long I laid there.”

It never seems to matter how upset you are with Sukuna, his situation always manages to twist your heartstrings. He can play you like a violin and he doesn’t even seem to have any clue of the kind of influence he has over you.

“So, if you wanna know what I woulda done,” he shrugs half-heartedly. “That, probably.”

Undoubtedly, this is his best effort of letting you in. Showing you he’s listening. Fixing things before they’re blown out of proportion because he got short with you.

You offer him a sad smile. “I’m glad it didn’t come to that.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Me too.”

“Next time, can we just talk before things get this far, Kuna?”

He lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding as the familiar nickname slips so easily off your tongue. “There won’t be a next time.”

Your lips quirk upwards, brow raising as you challenge his statement. “With you? There will be. Next time though, just start by telling me you aren’t in the mood to talk about something, okay?”

His lips press into a thin line at your lack of faith in him. He knows it’s founded, but it hurts regardless. Still, you somehow seem to find the space in your heart to be patient with him when he needs it most and for that he’s grateful.

“You got it, princess.” He pauses, tapping the side of the car as he drops your fingers into your lap. “Listen, I think I gotta start taking more shifts.”

“More?”

The concern etched into your brow is cute. “Yeah. I need to almost double how much I usually make. So, double the shifts.”

“You already missed class yesterday,” you point out.

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I get by.”

“You’re lucky you’re the type of guy who barely needs to study to pass,” you grumble with narrowed eyes.

He snorts, amused. “Yeah, maybe.” He sighs. “I know you got your internship startin’ up next week, but…” he trails off, as if he’s debating whether he should even ask you.

“You need help?”

He sighs. “I gotta take some night shifts.”

Dread churns in your stomach. “You’re never gonna get any sleep.”

“I’ll find time.”

“Where? Your schedule is full.”

“What other option do I have?” He grunts, exasperated. “An extra months’ rent ain’t gonna appear outta thin air.”

“You could always ask Toj-”

“No.”

You should have expected that. Red irises stare you down firmly, pupils mere pinpricks.

“You can take my bed if you stay,” he doubles down, scratching his chin.

Heat travels up your neck, finding a place on your cheeks and the tips of your ears. Something about staying in his room, in his bed, makes your heart take off. Yet he can mention it so casually, like it’s not a big deal.

“Um- right. Sure,” your words come out more mousey than intended, and you can only pray that the dim light that barely illuminates you is hiding the nerves that would otherwise show in the way you avert your gaze and chew on your lip.

To your dismay, that doesn’t seem to be the case.

Sukuna blows air out through his nose in a faint laugh as he slides a bit closer to you. The heat of his breath is warm, hotter than anything the car can manage as it tickles your neck. “Cat got your tongue?”

The battle between warm and cold air suddenly seems suffocating. The distant chatter seems to scream, and the motors of passing cars feel as though they could shake the ground you walk on.

“No!” You exclaim, a little bit too quickly as you find yourself wincing. “I’m fine. Just cold,” you lie, shrinking as you hug yourself.

His chest rumbles in laughter as he stands, slapping a hand down on the roof of your car. “I’ll email you my shifts. Go home.” This time when he says it, his tone is mild. “Didn’t waste my last chance?” He asks, turning his attention back to you with a conviction in his eyes that has you smiling sympathetically.

“Not yet.”

“Good. Let me know when you’re home.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads back into the warmth of his apartment building.

Your eyes trail after him as he pushes through both sets of doors, leaving you alone in the quiet of the night. Shutting the window, heat wraps around you, enveloping you once again within its embrace. Yet for some reason as you stare at the spot where you last saw the tattooed man, a shiver wracks your body.

–

Smoothing your pencil skirt, you push through the doors of a warmly-lit restaurant. The little local spot has an air of familiarity to it, decorated mostly with photos of dishes served nightly and the occasional photo of the owner’s family. Tucked away in the corner is a table with a spare seat reserved for you.

With a sigh of relief, you take a seat beside Suguru, your eyes trailing the length of the table to see who was able to make it. You notice two things at a glance. One, you’re severely overdressed, though you knew that would be the case after coming from your internship. Two… Why is Toji sitting across from you? No, the real question is how are Toji and Satoru sitting beside one another?

The question must be written across your face in bold lettering, because Toji nudges Satoru with a chuckle as everyone greets you happily. Satoru’s mischievous grin matches Toji’s smirk as he spots your confusion.

“They have more in common than I think anyone expected,” Suguru comments with an amused smile.

“Aw, that’s sweet,” you grin, taking a moment to attempt to rub the tiredness from your sunken eyes without smudging your makeup. “I’m glad everyone’s getting along.”

Suguru leans forward to get a better look at you, eyes narrowed as he examines your expression. “Can you look at me for a moment?”

Confused, you tilt your head as you turn to face the raven-haired man. Leaning back in his chair, you watch his expression subtly downturn.

“Have you been sleeping?”

“Of course!” You jump to your own defense quickly, straightening in your seat as you brush imaginary crumbs from your lap. “I’m fine, Suguru. I just had early class today, then my internship, and now dinner.”

“I see,” he hums, moving on. “How’s the internship?”

“Ooh, I wanna know too!” Shoko leans forward over the table to better see you. You can practically envision her kicking her feet under the table in search of details (and gossip).

At this point, even Kento’s attention is now drawn to you from the end of the table and you feel yourself shrink as the table begins to turn their collective attention to you. Everyone here may be your friends, but it’s still a lot of pairs of eyes.

“Um-” You chuckle, running a hand through your hair. “It’s going well! Everyone’s been really nice. Well, mostly everyone- but they have me doing coffee runs and shadowing the other editors right now,” you explain.

“Sounds like you’re well on your way to your career,” Suguru smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Suguru, you gotta ask the hard-hitting questions,” Shoko scolds playfully with a light smack to his bicep. His brow raises as she practically tries to lean over him to get to you. “What do you mean ‘almost everyone’?” She asks, her interest piqued.

Chuckling, you shake your head. “It’s really not that exciting,” you insist. “There’s this one Literary Agent, I think he’s the boss’ nephew or something, that’s just a bit much. I can’t really tell if he’s hitting on me or insulting me half of the time.”

Shoko’s nose wrinkles in disgust as Nanami recoils with a roll of his shoulders.

“And our graphic designer is just weird. She cooks bacon in the breakroom on one of those plug-in hot plates.”

“That is odd,” Suguru agrees.

“I think I get six coffees per day for her alone. Oh- and the other day I spent my whole break listening to her talk about this book she read over the weekend. I swear I could tell you the whole plot.”

“Sounds riveting,” Suguru chuckles, a glimmer of light passing through his gaze. “I’m sure the rest of your colleagues are fans as well.”

“Our publicist was telling me they have a drinking game during Christmas parties where they send the graphic designer to talk to the boss and every time he yawns or checks his watch, they drink.”

“Sounds like my kinda people,” Shoko snorts, grinning at you as the table returns to individual conversations.

Throughout the dinner, you’re quick to notice the way Toji seems to meld to the group seamlessly, offering snide remarks that have you wondering at times if you have a second, more gruff Satoru. It’s almost like he’s a strange blend between Satoru and Sukuna in a sense, and you can definitely see how Toji and Sukuna would be friends.

It’s heartwarming to see him blend in so seamlessly, because if Satoru can get along with Toji, he can get along with Sukuna as well, if they can both quit being haters for ten seconds.

Despite how worn out you are from the long day, the dinner with friends was much needed (even at the cost of two drinks for Satoru and one for Suguru), given that you’ve had to skip out on lunches with them every Tuesday and Thursday and even the occasional other weekdays as well in favor of your harsh schedule. Once you’ve paid, you get to your feet and pull your coat over your shoulders, brushing yourself off and grabbing your keys when you’re tugged aside harshly.

Yelping, you blink as you’re standing in front of Kento and Shoko.

“C’mon, we’re going for dessert,” Shoko insisted, tugging you along.

“What? I’m not hungry.”

“Doesn’t matter, dessert goes in your second stomach,” Shoko dismisses you.

“My second what?”

Before you know it, you’re whisked away to a small bakery down the street that you’re beyond certain is Kento’s choice. As much as he gives Satoru a hard time for sweets, the man has a fairly big sweet tooth himself- as long as the sweets include pastries. A good strawberry mille-feuille would have the man starry-eyed with his wallet on the counter.

Shoko, on the other hand, opts for a single macaron, which you second. Who can say no to a macaron shaped as a little kitty after all?

Holding the treat delicately in your hands as you smile at the sweet orange decorated kitty, you cross your legs and take a look around the bakery. Loaves of bread likely line the walls during the day, the displays usually vibrant with the reds and blues of fresh fruit pies. It’s fairly barren now, but the smell of bread and warmth of the oven still carries with it a sense of peace that puts you at ease.

“This is nice,” you comment, taking a bite of the macaron.

Kento nods. “It’s been a while since it’s been just the three of us.”

With a scoff, Shoko points her brown macaron straight at you, a bite taken out of it. “Yeah and whose fault would that be?”

Pouting, you nibble at the shell of your dessert. “There’s just been a lot going on,” you insist, leaning back in your chair. “Sukuna’s been-” you pause, lifting your head at the realization that Shoko doesn’t know about the lawsuit. Your eyes trail to Kento, whose gaze flashes with understanding.

“Sukuna’s been what?” Shoko pushes. “I swear I’ll shove his balls so far up his-”

“WOAH, woah! Okay Shoko,” your eyes widen and you find yourself nearly dropping your treat at the mere mention of whatever the hell she was gonna say. “As i was saying,” you flash her a glance, willing away the heat creeping up the back of your neck. “He’s been taking more shifts than usual, so I’ve just been balancing that with the internship and classes.”

“And sleep, and studying, and projects,” Kento points out, crossing his arms as he finishes his blueberry mochi cake. “When was the last time you read a book, or watched a movie?”

Hesitating, you find your gaze drifting to the wall. “... I watched Ice Age.”

“No, you watched Yuji watch Ice Age,” Shoko accuses, a brow raised. Finishing her macaron, she dusts her hands off on her pants and sighs. “Listen, we know you like him a lot and it’s great that you’re helping him- and thank god Kento knows so I can talk to him-”

“You’re such a gossip,” you mutter under your breath.

She just shoots you a sweet smile, continuing. “But seriously, you need to put yourself first. I’m glad he’s treating you better-” she pauses, staring expectantly at you.

Your gaze flickers between your two friends. “He’s treating me fine, stop worrying.”

“Great. The point is, he needs to go easy on you. I know he’s got a lot of shit going on, but so do you.” Shoko taps her fingers on the table, leaving the ball in your court.

“Sho, I swear I can handle it,” you roll your eyes, “but if it’s too much, I’ll talk to him. Promise.”

“Pinky swear, girl. You’re way too sweet to that man and I know you’d put him before yourself.”

Wrapping your pinky around hers, you roll your eyes, though you’re unable to help your smile.

“You owe me a girls’ night for bailing the other day by the way.”

“I’m sorry, Sho,” you pout.

“I’ll get over it. Ken here got to be my girls’ night buddy. I couldn’t convince him to get a color but he did get his nails done.” Shoko pulls his hand out from where it was crossed over his chest. You can faintly make out the gleam of clear polish on his nicely manicured nails.

“I have no need for colored nails,” he neutrally declares, shooting Shoko a mildly distasteful look as she holds his hand out to you.

Leaning back, you squint at him. “I think blue’s your color.”

Kento frowns. “Did you mishear me or are you choosing to ignore me?”

Shoko hums. “No, I see it. Like a darker blue.”

“Girls. Please,” he sighs as he pinches the bridge of his nose at your antics.

“Don’t act like you’re above this, Kento. I bet you still have a bottle of black nail polish back home somewhere,” you tease.

“That was a long time ago-”

Shoko leans in, resting her cheek against her fist. “Oh yeah, you had an emo phase, didn’t you?”

Laughing as Kento blushes profusely, rose dusting his cheeks, you lean back in your seat, relaxing in the warmth of your friends’ care. Your bed may be calling you, but Kento had a point when he asked when the last time you’d read a book or watched a movie was. But it wasn’t a book or movie that you were really missing, it was a girls’ night (featuring Kento).

You stay at the cafe much longer than intended, finding yourself curled up in thick blankets well into the night, but with a content smile on your face.

–

After the fourth day that you don’t see Sukuna at lunch, Uraume had approached you to bring him some worksheets, not to mention he has a paper due literally tomorrow that he doesn’t know about and you won’t see him until the weekend.

His schedule had been rough on you, but it had been downright cruel to him.

When he did manage to make it to a lunch or class, he would pass out within seconds, softly snoring on whatever surface he found himself on. It seemed he had to be physically moving in order to stay awake, otherwise he was dragged into the clutches of the sandman with no fight left to give.

The worst sign of his fading will was when you had gotten a call from Choso and Yuji’s school that Sukuna hadn’t arrived to pick them up. There was a surprising amount to unpack with that call between the fact that Sukuna had missed their pickup time and the fact that you had now been marked down as their emergency contact.

The latter… That was something you would unpack later.

As for the former, when you arrived at his apartment with both boys and rang the buzzer not once, not twice, but thrice, he was little more than a zombie, barely managing to stay on his feet. You swear you saw his drowsiness pop like a bubble over his head at the sight of you with his brothers, downright shocked.

Swears had poured from his mouth like floodgates had opened and all you could do was watch as he dragged his hands over his face in frustration, thanking you before shutting the door, claiming he would be getting some real sleep, lest this happen again.

Making your way up to his door now, you hope the man who greets you has a little more life in him than that day, but it’s not usually a good sign when you haven’t seen him for a bit.

Squinting as you approach the buzzer, you raise your brow at none other than Toji Zenin, sliding his finger along the metal box hanging on the wall in search of the number to dial for Sukuna. Stopping beside him, you stick your finger out to point at the number, which happens to be unmarked.

Toji flips to face you, face relaxing from his squint.

“Fancy findin’ you here,” he grins, the scar at the corner of his lips stretching.

“Hey, Toji!” You greet, returning his smile. The sight of another of Sukuna’s friends at his door is relieving given just how drawn thin he’s been lately. “Visiting Sukuna?”

“Mhm. Got somethin’ for him.” He wiggles a small box in his hand as he dials up to Sukuna’s apartment. “Fuckin’ asshole didn’t even tell me he moved, had to steal his address from Uraume,” he grumbles, more to himself than you.

You blink at him. Huh. Well that’s… Considerably less reassuring than Sukuna reaching out to Toji. Especially if Toji isn’t aware that Sukuna’s dad passed away, he’d have no clue about-

There’s a small click and the sounds of shuffling, before Choso answers with a disheartened “hello?”

“Choso?” Toji’s brow furrows in confusion. “That you, kid?”

“Oh. Uh, yeah. Toji?”

Your brow raises as Choso recognizes Toji’s voice. You’re aware Toji’s known Sukuna for a while, but you honestly weren’t expecting him to know Choso if he didn’t know about Jin’s passing.

“You visitin’ your big bro?” Toji queries.

“... I live here.”

Toji scowls deeply, casting you a confused glance. When you don’t mirror his confusion, he clicks his tongue.

“Hey, Cho! Can you let us in?” You call out, attempting to warm your fingers in your pockets as Toji doesn’t budge.

Shuffling resumes on the other line, followed shortly by the telltale buzz that the door’s unlocked.

“I’m missin’ somethin’ here, ain’t I?” The raven-haired man asks, a gruffness to his tone that’s familiar in the way Sukuna also speaks. They’re so similar in some ways, though Toji is far more outgoing than Sukuna. You suppose it’s probably the fact that he’s the Football team’s resident kicker. Still, they share a resemblance in their attitudes.

With a tight-lipped smile, all you can do is nod in reply.

“Shit,” he mutters, following you into the building as you lead the way up to Sukuna’s apartment.

You knock politely, clutching the folder of papers you have for Sukuna to your chest.

“- and add the potatoes when the water starts boiling. Use your fork to test- what are you doing here?” Sukuna turns his attention to his friends at the door mid-sentence, slipping outside and shutting the door behind him abruptly. You step aside, casting a glance between the two ridiculously tall and muscular men as Sukuna glares at Toji.

Sukuna looks… well, better than you were honestly expecting. He doesn’t look like he’s on the verge of passing out or being sick, a The Misfits black hoodie hanging loosely over his shoulders while a pair of dark gray joggers cling to his hips. His hair isn’t styled, stray strands of pale pink sticking out in different directions while some hang over his forehead.

“Got somethin’ for ya. And since your stubborn ass never shows up to lunch and you won’t answer my damn emails, I know ya need it.” Toji holds a visibly calloused hand out, the unmarked box you’d previously noticed now held expectantly for Sukuna to take.

Sukuna’s sharp glare flickers between Toji and the box. With a huff, he lifts the box from Toji’s hands, opening the tabs and peering inside. An old Samsung with a crack through the side of the screen sits at the bottom of the box. Sukuna’s head whips up to face Toji, his eyes blazing. “I don’t fucking need this.”

“My ass. Your phone’s been broken for months,” Toji scoffs, completely unphased by Sukuna’s irritation. “It’s just my old one anyway, but it’s better than nothin’.

Sukuna straightens and you spot a familiar flicker in those crimson eyes. Offense. “If I needed a fuckin’ phone, I woulda bought one,” he grits, shoving the box against Toji’s chest.

As he straightens, it strikes you just how tall and imposing Sukuna is. You can’t imagine it’s easy to make Toji look small when he’s nothing to scoff at either, but Sukuna manages it without fail.

“Don’t gimme that bullshit. I’m not fuckin’ stupid, Ryo. I know somethin’s up and you need a hand.” Toji rolls his eyes, shockingly relaxed for someone under Sukuna’s fire. You know they’ve been friends for a while, but you can’t say for sure how much time they ever spent together. Yet, Toji stands up to him like he knows nothing will come of his anger, as though it’s a facade.

“I’m managing just fine,” Sukuna hisses.

“Are you?” Toji quips, a brow rising behind the black strands of his bangs. “‘Cause I know Jin wouldn’t dump Choso on your ass outta nowhere, so what the fuck is goin’ on?”

Sukuna’s seething at this point, taking a step towards the football player. That may work on others, but Toji isn’t so easily intimidated.

“That’s none of your fuckin’ business,” Sukuna grits.

“Stop bein’ such a fuckin’ prick!” Toji finally snaps, his free hand flying through the air in exasperation. “You used to be my best friend, asshole! You were my fuckin’ family and you fucked off like it was nothin’!”

Sukuna doesn’t respond, brow furrowed and jaw set. His teeth grind from the pressure of his clenched jaw, sending the tension straight to his head as a headache begins to set in.

Left in silence, Toji continues. “Don’t look at me like that. I tried to get you out to the basketball courts with me, to see a movie, anything’. Somehow, you became more of a colossal asshole than I am,” Toji hisses.

As you realize this isn’t going anywhere anytime soon, your eyes flit to the door, wanting to slip inside and escape the uncomfortable situation you’ve found yourself in the middle of. Unfortunately for you, Sukuna’s blocking the door and you don’t exactly feel like interrupting is the best course of action here, leaving you to simply watch.

You’re accustomed to Sukuna being quiet, he’s never been all that chatty, but during arguments is when he tends to run his mouth. Now, standing in front of Toji, the silence of his simmering anger is off-putting. Toji seems to realize this too, shifting on the balls of his feet.

But words evade Sukuna. His mind races with rage-induced insults, anything to drive Toji away, get the man out of his business.

Yet his tongue is tied because Toji is painfully right.

Toji has always had an attitude that rivaled Sukuna’s and never backs down from a fight. His sharp and witty tongue would tell off Sukuna whenever he needed some perspective and the two were fiercely protective of one another. Toji was like a brother to Sukuna back then.

But he was also an asshole. Still is. He was raised by a family notoriously well-known for being as equally wealthy as they are terrible and Toji had always been on the receiving end of it. He’d grown rebellious and indifferent at a young age and acted out at every turn, eventually settling as he got older into brutish and cocky indifference, though most just branded him as an asshole.

Yet Sukuna made him look like a saint as of late.

“Christ, Ryomen. You really got nothin’ to say ‘bout all of this?” Toji runs a hand through his hair in exasperation, the black strands slipping down over his forehead once more. “Maybe I should just ask your fuckin’ brother, I swear sometimes it’s like Jin didn’t even raise yo-”

Sukuna’s anger flares once more, pulled from his thoughts of the past. “He’s fucking dead, Toji.” Venom drips from Sukuna’s words, silencing not only his friend, but the world around you seems to hold its breath too. Nothing about the tense situation is comfortable but you don’t dare move, biting your lip to keep from making any noise.

Toji blinks once, twice, three times. The words take a moment to process as he stands straight, before his brow furrows deeply. His mouth opens and closes a number of times as he searches for something to say, his spare hand scratching at his chest before hanging there for a moment, clutching at his shirt.

“When?” To your shock, Toji’s eyes are glazed with tears, and all you can do is shuffle from foot to foot, feeling nothing but sympathy for the poor man. From what you know of Jin, he was patient and kind and if Toji was Sukuna’s best friend, you can imagine he likely shared that kindness with Toji.

Sukuna’s expression takes a somber turn, the tension in his jaw dissipating somewhat. “Been a bit over three years.”

Toji blinks, a warm trail running down his cheek which he quickly wipes on his sleeve, burying his unprocessed grief beneath a layer of anger as something occurs to him.

“You didn’t think I’d wanna know?” It’s more of a rhetorical question, they both know the underlying issue of their problems all stem from Sukuna’s stubbornness. “You didn’t think to fuckin’ tell me?” This time, there’s more bite to his words. He may be glossy-eyed with sorrow, but he’s equally pissed now.

“It’s not your fucking business!” Sukuna barks, gripping the door frame with a white knuckled hand as he grits his teeth again. You peer past him at the door, searching for an escape, but Sukuna’s still soundly in your way.

“Like hell! He was more of a father to me than my parents ever were and you know that!” Toji takes a step back, turning to pace in a circle as he drags a hand down his face in disbelief. “Y’r such a fuckin’ prick, Ryomen. You always were, but shit.”

Someone clearing their throat down the hall turns your attention towards them. A kind-looking older woman with gray hair and soft eyes is just barely leaning out her door. “Sukuna, dear. Can I ask you to take this elsewhere?”

Turns out she’s your guardian angel.

To your relief, Sukuna simply points at the elevator, making a point of staring down Toji. The football player sighs deeply, rolling his eyes as he leads the way in silence. Sukuna casts you a glance, which then flickers towards the door in a silent question.

You nod, relieved, and slip into his apartment, finding Choso standing in the kitchen alone staring at the floor. He looks startlingly like a puppy with its tail between its legs.

Of course he would have heard everything.

As the door clicks shut behind you and you shuffle to slip your boots and jacket off, his gaze rises to you. A deep crease knits his brow, his eyes searching yours for something he doesn’t seem to find. Kneeling down, you wrap your arms around him in reassurance.

“Hey, sweetie.” You keep your voice soft and kind as Choso’s arms gingerly wrap around you. “Your apron looks great.”

He doesn’t reply, clinging tightly to you.

“Have you checked the potatoes?” A nod. “Are they ready yet?” A shake of his head. Frowning at his silence, you nod. “Do you wanna sit down?”

Choso nods again, pulling back and plopping down right in the middle of the kitchen.

“Oh, I meant-” Choso looks up at you with those sad puppy-dog eyes and you plop down beside him. “Nevermind.” Sitting cross-legged, you glance around, but you don’t hear or see Yuji. “Where’s your brother?”

“At a friend’s.”

That’s a relief. You nod, ruffling Choso’s hair. At least you’ve gotten a couple of words out of the reserved little boy.

“What are you making?” You ask curiously, trying to peer up at the counter. From where you’re sitting, all you can make out is the top of the pot that you assume the potatoes Sukuna was giving instructions about earlier are boiling in.

Choso fiddles with the bottom of his apron. “Pie.”

“Pie? Shepherd’s pie?”

Choso nods.

“That sounds great,” you grin in an effort to lighten the mood, but Choso isn’t receptive to your efforts. You shuffle to sit closer to him, wrapping your arms around your knees. You’re not built for the floor like the kid is. “Do you wanna talk, Cho?” You query, quietly observing the way that his little hands, fiddling with his apron, slow to a halt before dropping into his lap.

“Why’s Kuna mad at Toji?”

You sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“I like Toji. He’s nice. Mostly.”

You blow a breath out through your nose in a semblance of a laugh, a faint smile drawing your lips upwards. “Mostly?”

Choso doesn’t share your amusement outwardly, but he entertains your question. “He was like another older brother,” he shrugs.

“With all the good and bad of a big brother. I get it,” you chuckle, shifting to lean back on your arms as you struggle to find a comfortable way to sit on the kitchen tile. “Did you spend a lot of time with Toji?”

Choso nods. “They ditched me at the theater once.”

Your brow raises. “At the theater?” Your question is laced in disbelief.

Choso nods.

“Why?”

“They wanted to see a scary movie.”

“Wow, they were mean older brothers,” you agree, absolutely planning on giving Sukuna a hard time for that.

“Dad grounded Kuna for a month.”

“He deserved it,” you smile, rubbing the kid’s back gently. Looking for any excuse to get up off the floor, you point up at the pot on the stove where the water continues to boil. “Let’s check the potatoes again.”

Choso nods, getting to his feet and stepping up onto a small stool.

“Careful not to burn yourself,” you urge, standing behind him as he takes a fork and stabs a potato. When it comes up on the fork easily, Choso turns off the stove, shooting a glance at you in a silent question of whether that’s what to do. You nod, helping him dump out the water and potatoes into a strainer and teaching him to mash them.

As he jabs the masher into the bowl of starch, he sticks his tongue out in concentration as you add salt and milk to the mixture for him.

Out of nowhere, Choso slows to a halt, his head whipping to face the window. Tilting your head, you follow his gaze when you realize that the two men who walked outside to continue their argument have raised their voices and they must be right below the window as you can faintly make out their words.

“Why wouldn’t you ask for help?”

“I don’t need help!”

Turning to Choso, you smile. “Keep mashing, okay?”

His eyes trail after you as you grab your boots and slide the balcony door open, stepping out into the cold. Hugging your arms around yourself in an attempt to keep warm, you peek over the railing at the two men below.

“If you weren’t my friend, I swear I woulda socked ya in the jaw by now, you-”

“Hey!” You call down, catching their attention as they both look up at you. “You’re upsetting Choso.”

Sukuna inhales a long breath, sighing loudly. “Look-” Sukuna begins, his voice strained in an effort to keep it down for Choso’s sake. “I don’t need any help-”

“Don’t need any help or don’t need my help?” Toji interjects, casting a glance at you. Your eyes widen slightly, heat rushing up your neck. Yeah, you could understand Toji being a bit hurt at the idea that Sukuna let you in while he pushed away his best friend.

Sukuna’s fingers curl at his sides into fists. “I don’t need your help,” he snarls.

“Fine.” Toji finally gives in, sick of not getting anywhere with the brash and stubborn history major. He shoves the box against Sukuna’s chest, turning on his heel to walk away. “My number’s on the note in the box. Call me if ya decide to stop bein’ a prick.”

Sukuna seethes as he watches Toji get in a beat up old Honda and drive off. If it were any colder, you swear you would be able to see steam coming from his ears. When the car’s out of sight, Sukuna’s sharp gaze rises to you, his expression unreadable besides his obvious anger. “Go inside. You’ll catch somethin’,” Sukuna calls.

“I will. You come inside too, you don’t have a jacket,” you point out.

Sukuna hardly even noticed, in truth, but regardless he makes his way inside just as you do. Shivering as warmth envelops you once more, you run your hands up and down your arms a few times in an attempt to generate heat while you pull your boots off.

Choso’s standing by his potatoes, unevenly chopping carrots and putting them in a smaller pot alongside some corn. He’s shockingly good in the kitchen, making his Christmas gifts and his eagerness to follow you as you cook make more sense.

Returning to Choso’s side, you help him fill the pot with water, setting it on the stove as you wait for the veggies to boil.

“Why are Kuna and Toji mean to each other?”

You ponder his question for a moment, dreading the idea of the former walking through the door anytime now. “They’re not very good at talking about their feelings,” you land on as an explanation.

“Why?”

Frowning, you contemplate his query.

You’re glad Choso’s speaking more, but his questions are giving you a run for your money.

“Not everyone is as good at understanding their feelings as you and I are,” you explain. “Your brother isn’t very good at it.”

“At what?” He gruffs, pushing through the door.

Fuuuuuu-

“Don’t worry about it.”

Luckily for you, Sukuna isn’t in the mood to argue with you. “Need a minute to cool off,” he grumbles, trudging to his room and shutting the door with an unintentional slam.

Sighing, you return to the vegetables as they steadily come to a boil.

Choso stares hard at the boiling pot above his line of sight, his brow knit into a deep scowl.

“What’s up, honey?” You ask with a tilt of your head, leaning down a bit to his height. He shakes his head in an effort to get his long hair out of his face, deep in thought. When it doesn’t work, he pushes it from his face, but it just falls back into his eyes. “Can I help?”

He nods, watching your movements as you quickly jog to the washroom to grab a couple of hair ties that you’d left behind the last time you’d helped him put his hair up. It only takes a moment before you’ve tied two messy buns up at the back of his head.

Now able to see, Choso’s thoughtful expression returns. “What’s up, honey?” You try again.

“Will you talk to Kuna? He listens to you.”

You chuckle quietly. “I don’t know about that.” Still, he does listen to you… a portion of the time, which is more than can be said for most. “What do you want me to talk to him about?”

“Being friends with Toji.”

Your heart twists at the meaning behind Choso’s words. Whether he misses Toji or simply wants Sukuna to be happier, you can’t say for sure, but it’s endearing nonetheless.

Gently rubbing his back, you nod. “Sure. When you can stab the carrots with a fork, turn the stove off, okay? Be super careful.”

Choso nods.

Making your way over to Sukuna’s door, you cautiously knock.

“Come in.”

Twisting the knob, you push inside slowly. His room is a bit messier than the last time you were in here, the memory making your heart race as you recall your heated kiss. Light floods in from the window, better illuminating the art and posters on his walls, as well as what you’re sure is a pile of lightly used hoodies that seems to have taken over his desk chair. His weights are scattered carelessly in front of his dresser, his work polo discarded atop the wooden furniture.

Sukuna eyes you from where he leans against his headboard, his gaze still filled with mild irritation, though he is holding the phone that Toji handed him. You suppose that’s an overall positive.

“Whaddya want?” Sukuna grumbles, though the frustration within his sharp gaze doesn’t carry over to his voice.

“Well,” you begin softly, making your way over to his bed to take a seat beside him. “I originally came to drop off some stuff and let you know you have a paper due tomorrow-”

“Fuck that,” he groans, slumping down as he goes through the new phone setup screen.

“- five thousand words, by the way.”

“On what?” He sighs, the phone illuminating his features as he continues going through setup.

“Charles Dickens.”

“No. You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“I’m unfortunately dead serious.”

Crimson eyes finally part from the phone as Sukuna scowls at you, searching for any sign that you’re lying. When he doesn’t find one, he flips onto his stomach with a muffled groan into the pillow. His bicep brushes your thigh and you swallow hard, reminding yourself he doesn’t feel that way for you and it’s just an accident.

“I fuckin’ told you she’s a conspiracy theorist,” he gruffs from deep within the pillow, barely audible past the material.

You giggle, thankful for the somewhat lighthearted subject. “I still can’t believe you were right.”

“Wish I wasn’t.”

Silence falls over you as Sukuna remains buried in his pillow, finally raising his head with a prolonged sigh. He rests his chin on the pillow, staring tiredly at the gray material of his headboard. The fabric is worn where he usually sits, beginning to tear where his back slumps against it when he uses his laptop.

Not like he has the cash for a new one anyway.

“Is that all ya came in here for?” He asks finally, eyes still trained on the way threads are pulled taut in the fabric, barely held together as they wear thin.

“Uraume had me drop off a couple of things too. But-”

“Why’d you bring Toji?” Sukuna interrupts suddenly, lifting his gaze to scowl at you.

Blinking at his sudden change in demeanor, you shake your head. “He was here when I got here.”

“That prick,” he mutters under his breath, dropping his chin to stare at his headboard.

“You know, Choso sent me in here.”

“Great,” the salmon-haired man mumbles, “what does the brat want? I left the recipe for him.”

“Be nice to your brother. He’s going through a lot,” you scold.

“And I’m not?” He hisses, his head raising to look at you. When you return his scowl, he backs down, chin on his pillow again.

“Cho misses Toji. He wanted me to talk to you about being friends with him again.”

Your words silence Sukuna’s sharp tongue as all he can do is stare down at the black pillowcase beneath him. He shuffles slightly, his arm pressing into you.

He may be stubborn about Toji, but his brothers never fail to crack his tough exterior. As of late though, his demeanor doesn’t simply crack when it comes to his brothers, it crumbles. Sukuna flips onto his side, eyes downcast as he faces you now with one arm under the pillow and the other moving up to rest on your thigh.

Your breath catches in your throat at the feeling of his large hand squeezing the plush of your thigh.

Mirroring Sukuna’s frown, you set your hand over his softly. “What happened between you two anyway?”

Sukuna sighs. “Nothing, really. We just didn’t talk about heavy shit so I never told him what was goin’ on.”

Of course that’s all there is to it. Grimacing, you drum your fingers lightly over the back of his hand as you debate whether you want to say something. His eyes watch the movement intently, drawn to the way your fingers feel so soft on his skin.

“I’m gonna say something-” you pause, watching his eyes flicker up to meet yours, “- and you aren’t allowed to get upset with me.”

Sukuna’s brow twitches, curling into a scowl. “I don’t get mad over every little thing.”

If ever there was a time you gave Sukuna a look, this was it. “So last week, when you chased me down to my car-”

Flipping back to his stomach until his face is shoved back in his pillow, he mutters a “shut up” that barely makes it to your ears, thoroughly muffled. Regardless, you laugh, gently patting the hand that remains on your thigh.

“I know you’re letting me in, and that’s great, but Toji’s just trying to help too,” you point out.

Sukuna doesn’t move, the musculature of his back rising and falling steadily as he stubbornly keeps his face buried in his pillow.

“You never told me he used to be your best friend.”

“You never asked.” Again, you can barely make out his words.

Sighing, you rest a hand on his back. His muscles seize briefly beneath the tips of your fingers, before relaxing as you rub small circles between his shoulder blades. Sukuna lifts his head finally after a moment, turning his face to you as he remains on his stomach. He looks more at ease than he has in a long while, likely because he obviously skipped class to sleep, though you’re sure the gentle massaging of your hand is nice too.

“Why is it so bad to let him in?” You query, the tips of your fingers brushing against his spine. A shiver overtakes him, though he does his best to mask it.

“I took the damn phone,” he grumbles, as though there isn’t a bigger point to this whole situation.

Your lips press into a thin line as you stare at the stubborn man. Your fingers pause as you contemplate your next words. “The Zenins are pretty rich, aren’t they? Why don’t you ask for a hand with the lawyer-”

“I’m not a fucking charity case,” he hisses, every muscle pulled taut as he glares at you, an unspoken warning laced within his tone that you’re pushing his buttons.

You work your fingers across his muscles again, soothing him to release the tension in his shoulders. Slowly but surely, he relaxes in the silence, basking in the warmth of your hand.

“I never said you were. You could pay him back.”

“No.” He gruffs firmly.

It takes everything in you not to raise your head to the heavens and groan. Sukuna can be so ridiculously frustrating sometimes.

Stubborn as a mule, you have no other option but to give in. “Well… Just remember what Choso said.”

“I took the phone, isn’t that good enough for the brat?”

“It’s a hand-me-down phone, not a friendship bracelet,” you point out, unable to stifle the giggle that comes with your words.

Sukuna cracks an eye open, rolling it dramatically before flipping his face to stare at the wall. A comfortable silence hangs over you as Sukuna shuts his eyes after a moment, enjoying the feeling of your fingers smoothing across his muscles. The sun warms your skin through his window, goading a yawn from you as you find yourself leaning against his headboard. Your fingers slide along his shoulder blades as you find yourself shutting your eyes in the serene warmth of the afternoon sun.

Your hand slowly begins to still as fatigue overtakes both of you, and you bask in the cozy environment like a cat finding a patch of light.

It’s not until you hear a clank from the kitchen that you’re snapped out of your drowsiness and realize that Sukuna’s not the only one with a paper due tomorrow.

Glancing at the time, you pat Sukuna’s back gently. His head raises as he blearily looks you over, a questioning look on his face. It’s painfully sweet, the way he seems to be wondering why you stopped like a cat wondering why you’re no longer petting them.

Seems like you were a pair of happy cats for a moment.

“I need to go write that paper, and so should you.”

He hums in acknowledgement.

“I’ll help Choso get the food in the oven, sound good?”

Sukuna hums again, rubbing his eyes.

“Send me your number, by the way. I’ll see you in class tomorrow?”

“I have a morning shift after I drop the brats off,” he grumbles. “I’ll try to be there.”

“Just don’t forget about your paper!” You remind him, slipping off the bed towards the door.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Bonus points if you talk about Dickens’ death conspiracy theory!” You chant when you reach the doorway, a mischievous smile pulling at the corners of your lips.

He snorts, rolling his eyes as he pushes himself into a sitting position. “Where he died doesn’t fuckin’ change anything.”

With a grin, you just giggle along, heading out the door.

With his hands clutching the edge of the mattress, the burly man stares silently at the gray carpet beneath his feet. He can barely make out the sound of your voice, saccharine sweet and gentle, as you direct Choso while helping him put together the meal.

Lifting a hand, he subconsciously scratches at his spine between his shoulder blades, sending a shiver through his body.

main masterlist || series masterlist || previous chapter || next chapter

❦ a/n ; soooo this was originally meant to end on a different scene but by the time i hit 20k words i figured i should split it LOL sorry for the delay! had to take a small break for my mental health, but! the next chapter is already at 8k since i chose to split this, so i should be able to get it out soon <33 as always, thank you so much for all the love! i've gotten so many sweet comments, rbs, and asks and i absolutely love hearing everyone's thoughts on the chapter. ily all <33

❦ taglist ; OPEN. please comment here or on the masterlist if you would like to be tagged. age MUST be easily visible on your blog.

@yenayaps @rinachains @aiicpansion @fushitoru @gojoscumslut

@hellish4ever @kasukuna @theonlyhonoredone @catobsessedlady @timetoletmyimaginationfly

@clp-84 @coffee-and-geto @candyluvsboba @favvkiki @gojodickbig

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@privthemis @captainsarcasmandsass @ryomeowie @vitoshi @kunasthiast

@axxk17 @toratsue @bluestbleu @yuji-itadori-fave @totallygyomeiswife

writing & format © starmapz. art © 3-aem. dividers © adornedwithlight & cafekitsune

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hemmingsleclerc · 9 months ago

Text

Prom Night┃OP81

summary: u go to prom with your bf oscar <3 but I love the drama

Y/N couldn't wait for prom. As a senior, the night she had been waiting for years was about to happen. But there was something different about Y/N compared to her friends; She had a secret, or at least that was what everyone thought and rumors said.

In the hallways of her school, the whispers grew louder and louder. "Y/N is with her imaginary boyfriend again," they said, as if their words were just to get attention.

"He's tall, with brown hair and a beautiful smile," Y/N insisted when they asked her what her boyfriend was like. "And he's not from around here; he's Aussie."

Her ''friends'' rolled their eyes, unconvinced. "Sure, Y/N," they said, exchanging mocking glances behind her back.

Prom night was approaching and the doubts were growing stronger. But despite all the comments they said behind her back, she knew that her boyfriend would be there for her on that important night, even if no one else believed it.

Y/N took a deep breath and dialed the number she knew by memory. "Hey, it's me," she said with a shaky voice when he responded. "Are you still up for prom?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line before a soft voice answered, "Of course, my love. I wouldn't miss it for the world."

That made Y/N release the breath she had been unconsciously holding.

And true to his word, when the night of the prom came, there he was: tall, brown hair, with that same charming and cute smile that Y/N had fallen in love with. Her Oscar.

When Oscar first saw Y/N in her beautiful dress, he felt like he could faint from how beautiful she looked. He couldn't contain the big smile that adorned his face when she ran into his arms when she saw him again. Also, Oscar gave Y/N a surprise when he took her hand to put the famous ''corsage'' on her, because he wanted to do things right so that his girlfriend had one of the best nights of her life.

When Y/N entered the place hand in hand with Oscar, she felt a mixture of nerves and excitement. But all her doubts were quickly disolved when Oscar took her hand, gave her a spin and took her to the dance floor, where both of them, even though they didn't know how to dance, made their best effort and had fun.

However, in the middle of all the joy of the night, Y/N couldn't ignore the whispers that could still be heard over the music. She caught cruel words towards her by those who had doubted her all along.

''Clearly that's not Y/N's boyfriend, she's too stupid to have such a cute guy by her side.''

Y/N felt embarrassed hearing that. But before she could say or do anything, she felt Oscar's grip tighten around her hand, without actually hurting her.

"Who said that?" His voice was low, a different tone than usual.

Y/N's heart beat faster as she watched Oscar's usually calm attitud break, replaced by a slightly stronger one. With a quick glance around the room, he saw the group of girls and boys who had been talking about her, their faces expressing surprise at realizing they had been caught.

''Wait for me here darling'', Oscar let go of Y/N's hand and crossed the room, with determined steps. The crowd parted before him, a silence falling over the room as all eyes turned to watch the situation unfold.

"You got something to say mate?" he said.

The girls and boys stutter, not being able to meet Oscar's gaze, his presence felt heavy on the room.

''If you're not such a coward, say it in front of my face, because I won't tolerate people speaking shit about my girlfriend'' his anger palpable in the air.

The girls and boys exchanged nervous glances, backing away from Oscar's gaze. They had hoped to make fun of Y/N without consequences, but they had never anticipated her boyfriend.

With one last sharp look, Oscar turned on his heel and returned to his girl, his jaw clenched in barely contained fury. When he reached her side, he took her hand in his, her hold was reassuring and comforting as he hid his face in her neck.

''Thank you very much for that, Osc, but it really wasn't necessary,'' she said as she play her boyfriend's hair.

''Of course it was necessary darling, they should never talked like that about you, ever. I hope they learned or I wouldn't mind running them with my car later'' Oscar said ''Even so, they shouldn't have talked about my girl like that''

''I love you''

''I love you too darling''

ynln

Liked by oscarpiastri, yourbestfriend and 139,535 others

ynln prom w my baby 🤍🪩

username So this is oscar's mysterious gf!!!

username she's so pretty omg

oscarpiastri love you my girl ❤️

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w2soneshots · 6 months ago

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could you do something like the 24hr karting race and shes a driver for senor frogs, she finishes her stint and then like the new video they couldnt find the bed in the rv or whatever so they go into quadrants and theres only one bed and both her and harry need sleep si they have to share?? sorry im so bad at explaining

We’ll have to share -W2S

words: 1.5k+

warnings: unestablished relationship, spooning.

summary: while filming the annual señor frogs 24 hour go cart race you and Harry end up having to share a bed, but nether of you mind since your both majorly crushing on the other.

notes: hello love!🤗 I decided to write this asap even though I have so many requests but I wanted to get this out before everyone gets over the señor frogs high (If you get what I’m saying?). Anyways, enjoy!!💓🏎️

Today I'm driving for señor frogs in the annual twenty four hour go cart race. I woke up early this morning, took a quick shower, got ready, packed a small bag and then set off. It took almost two hours to get to Buckmoore Park and I arrived just after ten, ready for the practice that starts at ten thirty.

I've know the boys for years and are good friends with them all. After they dropped Callux from the team they asked if I would participate this year and after seeing how fun it looked last year I couldn't say no. I've done lots of practice in the last few weeks and I'm actually pretty good. I used to race with my friends for fun when I was younger but that's about all the experience I've had.

When I arrived I parked my car then signed in at the front desk. "Hey! You're here!" Chip's voice echoed through the reception. A smile spread across my face. We shared a quick hug then he walked me to our green room.

Harry, Chris, Will and Freezy stood talking. They turned to me as we entered. "Hi guys!" I set my bag down. I glanced at Harry, he smiled softly at me. They all said their "hello's" then we started talking about the plan for the twenty four hours.

Unfortunately the weather forecast wasn't ideal since it was supposed to rain for almost the entire time but that made it more interesting and fun to watch.

We sent Chip and Plum out for the practice and once that was done it was time for the race to begin. We were starting off with Chris. After getting into our suits all of us walked out onto the track. I pulled mine down so that it rested at my waist and I wore a comfortable black tank top underneath.

Once we'd finished doing some interviews the group headed back upstairs onto the balcony to watch as the race began. As soon as the flag was waved Chris raced over to the cart, accidentally kicking another racer on the way. Harry pushed the cart to give him a boost then he drove swiftly off, along with everyone else.

When twelve am hit it was finally my turn. I suited up and grabbed my helmet. I stepped outside onto the deck, Harry just behind me (who'd already done his first stint, just before Plum went out). "Jesus Christ it's hammering it down." I looked out at the soaked and slippery track. He placed his hands on my shoulder, squeezing. "You'll be fine," he reassured me.

I quickly walked down the stairs, taking a deep breath when I got to the bottom. I looked back up at Harry. He put his two thumbs up. I smiled softly, nodding. "I can do this. Let's hope I don't completely embarrass myself." I thought.

"Nervous?" The camera man asked as I waited. "To be honest I'm shitting myself," I replied with a shaky laugh. Plum pulled in and immediately jumped out, he gave me a quick wave as I passed him. I adjusted the seat insert, got in and then drove off.

As soon as I set off I heard Freezy in the earpiece. He was talking about what place I was and how carful I needed to be on the turns. I could barely concentrate since I was focusing on not spinning out and it didn't help that I couldn't really see out of my visor.

Around an hour in I'd gotten used to it and was now much calmer. I hadn't heard anything through the communications for a while then I suddenly heard Harry's voice. He told me that Freezy had gone for a snooze and that he was replacing him.

"That was really good, one minute nine seconds. Try and keep up that time," he said as I finished another lap. The rain was starting to pick up. "It's so fucking slippy!" I felt as though I wasn't in control, the wheels were spinning everywhere. I just desperately didn't want to spin out and let the boys down.

When I was finally told to come in I felt so relieved. I had no idea what place we were or how I'd done. I practically stumbled out, my legs and bum asleep from sitting in the same position for two hours. I pulled my helmet off as I passed Chip.

When I got to the boys I was met with what seemed to be happy faces. "We're fucking second place in class!" Freezy patted my back excitedly. Harry smiled wildly at me. "I told you you'd be fine." I smiled back at him, relieved that I hadn't fucked everything up.

I was completely soaked so I went to get changed into some comfy clothes that I could sleep in. Plum, Will and Chris had already gone to bed and me and Harry were going to do the same as it was now around two in the morning.

We walked together to quadrants bus, since there wasn't a proper bed in the one Chip had rented and they'd kindly said we could sleep in there's. When we got inside, out of the rain we quietly walked down the hall. I turned to look at him, my eyes slightly wider than a minute ago. "Is there only one bed left?"

"Shit. I think so," he replied before looking around to check again. "What are we gonna do?" I whispered. "Uh- you can have it." My brows knitted together. "No, don't be daft. They're pretty big... we could share?" I was really hoping I hadn't just embarrassed myself.

Harry's face turned red, though I couldn't really tell due to the dim lights. "Uh- uhm- yeah. Okay," he stuttered. I smiled slightly. "Come on then. I'm exhausted."

He got in first. It was slightly awkward since the last bed was at the bottom and practically on the floor. I slid in after, both now on our sides, my back facing his front. Turns out they were smaller than they looked.

Evidently Harry didn't know what to do with his hands, they were sort of hovering over my side. I smirked to myself then grabbed his hand, placing it around me my waist. I shuffled into him comfortably. I felt him physically relax. "You sure this is okay?" He asked quietly. "I'm sure."

I've had a massive crush on Harry since a few months ago when we spent the entire night together at a party nether of us wanted to be at. I laughed more than I had in a while that night and I really enjoyed spending time with him.

I was woken up a few hours later by Chip giggling. My eyes fluttered open and a small tired groan escaped from my lips. "You alright there love? Comfy?" He chuckled quietly, as people were still asleep. I was confused then I realised I was still pressed up against Harry.

Harry shuffled behind me, mumbling something and then shooting up. A loud bang was heard as he whacked his head on the roof of the bed. "Ow." He fell back onto the pillow and brought his hand up to rub his head. Chip laughed even more.

We got out and stood up. I sighed before glancing at Harry. His hand rubbed at the back of his neck, he looked slightly uncomfortable. Chip continued to tease us as we walked back to the green room and he immediately told Freezy and Chris that he'd found us asleep together.

"I knew it! You like each other!" Freezy exclaimed, standing up. My eyes widened. "Uh-" "you guessed it," Harry replied, interrupting me. My head snapped over to him. "You like me?" I blurted out. The room fell silent. "Uhm- yeah- yeah I think I do." My face softened. Freezy chuckled with a smirk.

It turns out they wanted Harry to get back in the cart once again, which he wasn't very happy about. But he ended up agreeing and he got back into his suit. I stood next to him on the balcony, both of us leaning our forearms on the barrier as we waited for the signal that it was his turn to go out.

"I like you too. Just so you know." I said, not taking my eyes off the track. "You do?" He turned to me, surprise evident on his face. I looked at him sincerely. "Mhm, ever since that party last month." A smile graced his lips. "So... did you wanna go for lunch or something after this?" He asked. "Are you asking me on a date Mr Lewis?" I teased. He chuckled. I gently nudged his side with my elbow. "I'd really like that."

"Harry! Time to go!" Chip shouted. I glanced at Chip then looked up at Harry, pushing onto my tiptoes and placing a quick kiss on his cheek. "Good luck!" I whispered. He smirked. "I'll see you in a bit." I nodded before patting his chest.

I watched as he quickly walked down the stairs then I turned to go back inside. I stopped as I noticed Freezy through the window. He raised his eyebrows with a mischievous look on his face. I groaned but I didn't really mind that he'd seen mine and Harry's encounter, all I could think about was the date I was going on in a few hours.

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chilschuck · 9 months ago

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ok ridiculously specific request: reader with laios party + namari, namari and reader are talking in dwarvish about reader’s crush on chilchuck within earshot of him… then reader and chil are alone later when he reveals he speaks a few languages (from union stuff?) including dwarvish… hehehe

`✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ ANON THIS WAS SUCH A PRECIOUS IDEA. i’ve been looking so forward to getting to it, and now i’m finally able to give you something for it!!! hopefully it’s okay!!! <333

— HELPFUL: chilchuck x gn!reader.

꒰ warnings: ꒱ none! sfw + short but sweet! mutual pining???

꒰ wc: ꒱ 792

✦ so sorry if this didn’t turn out how you had envisioned it!!! i might’ve??? made them a lil ooc, but i just started going and couldn’t stop hgdjhdkdjdk. this was so so cute so i really hope you enjoy!!! <333

You and Namari had always been close, chatting with each other every chance you got. It was always nice to be able to speak with her in a language you were pretty confident not many others in the party knew, so tonight was no different.

Taking a sip of her drink, Namari let out a chuckle at your words. Knowing she didn’t have to quiet her own too much for this, she asked the question you’d been hoping to avoid. Little did you know, the conversation in Dwarvish between the two of you was being taken in by someone you didn’t expect.

“So, how’s that crush going? Still pining after you-know-who?” Namari asked with a big smile, her gaze locked on yours as she spoke. You let out a sigh, replying in kind.

“I feel like it’s gotten worse. Not like he’ll ever acknowledge it if he’s realized, though. All I can do is hope he hasn’t yet.” Your voice was laced with a tone of displeasure, having convinced yourself this was all one sided. Namari gave a reassuring pat to your back, that smile not leaving her features.

“Hey, you never know. What I know, though, is he’s a bit emotionally constipated. Do with that what you will.” Her own bark of laughter caused you to laugh in reply, taking a moment to take a drink.

Chilchuck frowned, furrowing his brow while taking a sip from his own cup. Yet, this revelation had him feeling… hopeful? You thought of him in that way? The half-foot continued to listen in, waiting to hear what you had to say next.

“I really like him, Namari… He’s so helpful, resourceful, handsome… I feel like we all can really count on him. I just wish I wasn’t such a coward.” A sigh left you, burrowing your face in your hands. The dwarf next to you tutted, waving off your shyness.

“Yeah, well, don’t forget how helpful you are, too.”

Namari was right, and even Chilchuck nodded to himself at that. After the fact he had to recover from the fact you thought he was handsome. He coughed quietly into his drink.

“Helpful enough to make him notice me?” Your voice was so meek in this language, he realized. It was so different than how you usually were, which only made his mind reel a bit at listening in to such a private conversation. The tips of his ears were still a little red from hearing your pining, which certainly wasn’t one-sided.

“If he’s smart, he’s already noticed how helpful you are.” She smirked, elbowing you in the side lightly. You couldn’t help but snort at that, noticing Senshi getting ready to put the dishes from dinner up. “Sure, sure… Let me go help put things away for the night. I’ll be back.”

Chilchuck watched as you took your plates to be washed, walking past his spot to carry everything to the water. Pausing for a moment, he took his own plate to follow you.

As you began finishing up the last few plates you had, soon moving on to the cups, you heard Chilchuck clear his throat behind you.

“Hey, need me to take care of that?” You motioned to his plate, watching as he reached for the rag next to you. Chilchuck shook his head, beginning to help you. “Nah, I came to help you, actually.”

You smiled and gave a thanks in reply, the silence comfortable between the two of you. A few beats of quiet passed before he cleared his throat.

“So, haven’t heard you speak Dwarvish in a while.” He muses, setting aside a plate after drying it. “It’s nice to see you and Namari chat again.”

Biting your tongue, you gave a light laugh at his words. “Yeah, it’s nice to have another common language like that.” Another beat of silence, before he gives a light grin.

“You know, I happen to speak a few languages myself. With working in the union, and all.” Your blood ran cold, nearly dropping the plate in your hands. Before you could reply, he brought his gaze to your own.

“By the way… I guess I must be pretty smart. Since I’ve noticed how helpful you are and all. Her words, not mine.” Chilchuck gave a playful smirk, taking the plate from your hands to dry. “Oh, and maybe you shouldn’t assume how I feel. Even if I’m ’emotionally constipated.’”

Your mouth was dry, trying to form the thoughts bouncing around in your head into words to say. As he dried the final dish, he turned to walk off, not before saying one final thing to you in Dwarvish.

“You’re cute when you act all shy.”

You’ll have to get him back for that.

— dividers by @/cafekitsune! <333

#⟡ lilia writes! 🌿#I HOPE THIS IS OKAY ;;;#i wanted to get this out for you!!!!#time to work on other requests hehehe #nervous about this one but i need to post!!#i shall not reread it in fear hgdjdhkdhdkjd #chilchuck x reader #chilchuck tims x reader #dunmeshi x reader #delicious in dungeon x reader #dungeon meshi x reader

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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

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I used to be a camp counselor and I just know James is the exact kind of guy the little kids would fight to sit next to at activities. And! He tells the most dramatic campfire stories

Hi! I realize this wasn't really a request but it gave me an idea, so thank you lovely!

camp counselor!James x fem!reader ♡ 751 words

“Then,” James says in a low, solemn voice, “Timmy heard the monster getting louder. Do you know what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?”

All around you, campers sit with bated breath. When the last counselor to go had told her story, they’d all been whispering to each other, giggling and messing around as they tend to do whenever anyone is speaking. Anyone except James, apparently.

“Timmy ran to the only place left to hide.” He walks slowly around the logs you and the kids sit on as he talks, the orange glow of the fire casting his face in a merry hue despite his foreboding tone. You can tell he’s trying his best to play the part, and James isn’t the worst actor in the world, but anytime he looks at one of the kids’ faces the twitching of his lips betrays him.

He crouches next to an apprehensive-looking girl and says to her, “He squeezed into the closet in the basement and made himself as small as he could. Just like that.” James pokes the girl’s curled up form teasingly, drawing a smile out of her. His lips twitch again.

“For a minute,” he stands, beginning to circle again, “it was quiet. Then, Timmy heard the monster coming down the stairs.” James stomps his feet on the dirt, making dull thudding sounds that have you smiling and your camper next to you gripping your arm apprehensively. “The monster got closer and closer. Timmy was trapped.”

James is nearly behind you, and the girl holding your arm whispers, “Does the monster live close to here?”

“No, no.” You keep your voice low, bending your head towards hers with your most reassuring smile. “This monster’s all the way in Florida. Don’t worry.”

“And when Timmy could hear the monster’s breath just outside the closet,” James goes on, though you’re not really paying attention, more focussed on comforting the poor girl beside you, “it asked again, Do you KNOW—” His voice rises to a shout, and big hands grab your waist, making you squeak loudly. James’ hold is the only thing that keeps you from flinching fully out of your seat, and you can hear him snickering quietly behind you as the kids erupt in laughter.

“Do you know,” he tries again, amusement coating his tone, “what I do with my giant red mouth and my long purple fingers?”

He lowers himself onto his haunches, speaking to the girl next to you. “And do you want to guess what Timmy said?” he asks her, both hands still on your waist.

She shakes her head, giggling.

“Well, he said no, obviously.” James grins as if this is a joke you’re all in on together. “How would he know? So the monster said, I’ll show you.”

James gives your waist a teasing squeeze as he lets you go, but his face smooths into seriousness again, one hand coming slowly up to his mouth. The kids near you are craning their necks to see him.

Lightning quick, James sticks a finger in front of his lips, flapping up and down as he blows out and makes a vibrating sound.

The silence breaks as the kids either laugh or boo or a mix of both, one of James’ campers shouting, “That wasn’t even scary!”

“It was too!” James feigns offense, setting a hand on your head and banding his forearm across your collar protectively. “Don’t say that, you’ll make y/n feel bad. Poor love,” he says sympathetically, resting his head on your shoulder, “she was really terrified.”

“Did you pee yourself?” one of the campers near you asks. You turn to her, making a silly face.

“I think maybe a little,” you whisper loudly, causing the kids to devolve into giggles again.

“Oh, ew.” James makes a show of removing his hands from you and wiping them on the back of your shirt. The campers eat it up, your small clearing in the woods a cacophony of laughter and cricket sounds. You catch some of the other counselors rolling their eyes, some exchanging knowing smiles.

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough,” James goes on. “I nearly peed myself, too, when I thought you were going to fall off your log there.” He shoots you one of his winning smiles. “Good thing you had me to catch you, yeah?”

You feel your face warm, and you’re grateful for the glow of the campfire as cover. “Mhm,” you say, “good thing.”

544 notes · View notes

jinnie-ret · 11 months ago

Text

cigarette duet

poly!stray kids x ninth member!reader

genre: angst, fluff at the end

content warnings: smoking, mentions of rehab, mentions of recovery

word count: 3k

summary: you get hounded by your boyfriends after they catch you smoking. how will they react when you disappear and go off the radar?

requested: @ihrtlix

It has been a while since I've written! I'm sorry it's taken me so long to get around to the requests for this event but I'm getting back into the swing of things! Hope you enjoy! Please don't take offense to any opinions presented in this imagine. Enjoy! And if you want to be tagged in anything I write please lemme know! <3

1K FOLLOWERS PLAYLIST 💚🖤

MAIN MASTERLIST

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Perhaps you had smoked one too many cigarettes last night. Waking up the next morning after battling your stresses with the addictive feed of nicotine, your throat felt dry, hoarse, scratchy even.

"Baby, are you sure you're not sick?" Felix fussed, placing his hand delicately on your forehead to gain an idea of your temperature. "I mean, you don't feel hot, but maybe you're coming down with something?"

"I'm fine, love, just need some water," you kiss his hand that was pulling away from your face, offering a reassuring smile after clearing your throat.

And in your mind, that was enough. You didn't notice the little things that your boyfriends did however.

"Binnie, what are you doing? You look like a perv haha," Hyunjin giggled at the sight of Changbin rummaging through the laundry basket and sniffing your hoodie.

"Ssshhh, keep it down. And plus, it's not being pervy, people in relationships do it all the time. It's comforting smelling each other's clothing," Changbin righteously pointed out to his boyfriend, puffing his chest before adding, "well, normally it is..." he sighed.

"Woah that's mean, you can't say our girlfriend smells," Hyunjin pushed Changbin's shoulder, laughing again but with wide eyes this time round.

"No, no, you've got the wrong idea anyways. I think... I think Y/N's been smoking. I can smell it on her hoodie," Changbin sighed, tossing the white hoodie of yours back into the washing basket that was full to the brim. He was about to continue his spiel of conspiracies until he jumped when your arms wrapped around behind him.

"Aw, babe, are you doing the washing? Thank god for that, I was worried it would never get done," you squeezed him tightly once more before kissing him on the cheek and continuing your venture into the kitchen, Felix trailing behind you.

"I think she's getting sick, I'm gonna see if we have any meds in the cupboard, or some throat sweets at least," Felix pouted as he walked past his two boyfriends, Hyunjin ruffling his hair on the way.

Changbin threw a meaningful look at Hyunjin, alarms going off in his head because it only added more fuel to the blazing fire of thoughts in his head.

"Look, we don't know that she is smoking for sure. Maybe she's just been around some friends that are?" Hyunjin whispers hurriedly, yet this caught Seungmin's attention, and his ears too.

"Huh? What are you talking about?" Seungmin casually stood between the two, grabbing laundry detergent and capsules from the cupboard to act natural yet because practical at the same time.

"I'll explain later, to all of you. I'm just a bit concerned," Changbin sighed, rubbing his hand across his face before actually making a start on the chore at hand.

It was an escape for you, much like it was for other people who smoked cigarettes. And plus, you hadn't been doing it for long. You thought what could the harm be when you didn't do it a lot? Plus, it was handy that none of your boyfriends batted an eyelid in the studio when you said you wanted to go outside for some air. In fact, it gave the opportunity for Changbin to lay out his thoughts to the rest of your boyfriends who hadn't yet heard his observations.

"Y/N... I don't think she'd do that, I can't picture it," Jeongin shook his head, shaking his hands in confusion because the picture being painted in front of them seemed very unlikely and it wasn't a nice one to think of.

"And she knows it's too risky. First of all we're idols. I hate to say it but we have to think about that first in situations like these. Even when we're drinking we've got to be careful. If you're right about this, Binnie, then..." Chan groaned, leaning back into his seat with a huff.

"But she did just go out 'for some air'," Han added on, brows furrowed as he thought what Changbin was saying was quite plausible.

"Ok. We'll go check then," Minho shrugged as he stood.

"What?" Felix too stood up.

"We can't sit here and keep worrying. Let's go check and see for ourselves. If we're wrong... And I hope we are... Then it's fine," Minho grabbed his phone and shoved it into his pocket, scanning around the room for his boyfriends' reactions.

"And if we're not wrong, then what?" Hyunjin voiced his concerns.

"Let's just hope we're not," Chan was first to walk out the door, the rest of Stray Kids following along after him like ducklings and their mother. Apart from this time it wasn't the cute, adorable scene you'd hope for, especially because they could smell the smoke and see your lax figure as soon as they rounded the corner to the back of the building.

"No. Y/N you've got to be kidding me!" Chan snatched the cigarette out of your hand and immediately stomped it out.

"Chan I-" you fumbled on your words, eyes wide as you had all eight of your lovers stood in front of you. And the way they looked at you made you stomach twist into knots you were sure you'd never felt.

Disappointment. Anger. Concern. Indifference.

"Let's talk about this inside," Changbin wrapped an arm around your shoulder as he spoke quietly to you.

Your heart was racing faster. They were going to think the worst. But you had a way out of this. It wasn't even that bad. Sure, over the past month maybe you'd have been spending more money on packs of cigarettes, yet on the inside you felt as if there were worse things you could be doing to yourself.

"Sit," Minho bluntly said, face unreadable, tone void of emotion.

And so you did.

"We'll just have a conversation about this, nice and calm, ok?" Felix nudged Chan in particular with his leg.

It seemed however that it wasn't a conversation, but more of an intervention. A heated one, at that.

"I can't be nice and calm, Lix! Our girlfriend is destroying her body, and for what?" Chan's voice rose ever so slightly, hands squeezing the arms of the chair he was tensely sat in.

"It's just a cigarette," you feebly replied. That backbone of yours was slowly wearing away the more and more anger you felt radiating off of your partners.

"Don't be ridiculous," Seungmin scoffed, "think of the damage it's doing. Think about your career."

"It's more than just the odd cigarette, right?" Changbin prodded, wanting answers to the millions of questions he had. After all, he was the first one to notice how you gradually stopped voicing your concerns to him but still sometimes had the habits that showed your anxiety.

"Well, yes, but-" you began but were cut off.

"No buts. That's... It's, you're hurting yourself, hurting your lungs. Why are you doing this, baby?" Jeongin took your hand in his, concern not the only thing glistening in his eyes, which broke your heart.

"It's just a nice distraction, that's all. It won't go on forever, I'll just stop when I want to," you shrug your shoulders, squeezing his hand to show you meant what you said.

"It's not that easy. Nicotine. It's addictive. You think you can just stop like that?" Hyunjin frowned, shaking his head.

"I know I can," you firmly said, urging them with your voice to trust you.

"I don't know what planet you're living on," Chan shook his head.

"Channie..." Felix bit his lip, feeling torn. On one hand he didn't want your boyfriend to be so tough with you, but he also disagreed with the choices you made, the ones you were making.

"No I'm sorry but Y/N, babe, you've made one of the stupidest choices you could make! Seungminnie is right, Jeongin too. It's damaging for your body, let alone your career. You keep this up, you're not going to be able to sing as well as before. And then it'll get to the point where you can't breathe as well anymore," Chan ranted, fiddling with the bracelets adorning his wrist as he didn't take his eyes away from yours, not once.

"I just told you it's not going to go that far!" your face contorted to one of disbelief.

"That's out of your control," Minho sternly redirected your attention to him.

"Wow. It's like you don't even trust me. I'm not some kid. I can make my own decisions. So what if I'm doing this for a little bit of stress relief? For a bit of fun. It helps me," your voice almost turns to pleading, wanting them to hear you out, hear your reasoning.

"It hurts you, baby. And when it hurts you, it hurts us as well," Han bit his lip after shakily speaking up. He didn't like this situation, not one bit.

"I'm not doing it to hurt you. I'd never do that," your voice wobbled, throat feeling as if it was closing up from the sob that was lodged down there.

"Too late. I mean just look," Chan emptied your handbag, empty packets of cigarettes and some not, falling out onto the floor of the studio.

"Y/N, that's a lot," Hyunjin gasped, clutching a hand on his chest.

"It's not. It's not that bad..." you denied as you knelt on the floor and tidied up the mess.

"You're in complete denial," Seungmin rolled his eyes.

"I'm not! I'm well aware of my actions thank you very much!" you shouted suddenly, causing everyone to freeze at the volume you had just reached.

The guilt set in. It was never meant to go this far. It was just meant to be for stress relief. Something to distract you from the aches and pains, physical and mental. It wasn't long until you'd be performing a special fanmeeting and relearning old choreographies and a cover had you feeling like you were being worked down to the bone. Even iconic dances like God's Menu were hard to remember, and you felt like you had no chance. No choice. It was like it fell into your lap so easily.

The first time you had stood outside to catch some air, it was for that genuine reason. And you weren't alone. You didn't know if the person worked at your company, if you knew them, whatever. But their hand offering you something that could bring you temporary bliss was a solution you were grateful for. Only now, you were seeing that it was short term.

"You need help. Seriously..." Chan spat, grabbing his backpack and storming out of the studio.

"Find a way to end this, Y/Nnie," Felix mumbled, stroking your hair gently before following Chan out with a rush.

"You're all just going to go?" your voice cracked. Were they leaving you now?

"We just need some time," Changbin sighed. And then he was gone too.

"You're leaving me?" you sniffled, standing up to face your boyfriends that were still in the room.

"Not like that, baby. We're just giving you time to think about how you can stop this, ok?" Han stroked your face as he made sure you knew this wasn't the end. And then he left too, Minho, Hyunjin, Seungmin and Jeongin leaving too.

All alone. Perhaps it was what you deserved. You relied on the cigarettes more than your boyfriends. And they were all you had left for the moment. That was when it sank in. You had to make a change. You had to stop this habit form taking over your life, from pushing away the people you love most, and from taking your life away.

•••

"She's sorting herself out at least... that's got to be commendable."

"I guess so. Let's just hope it doesn't get out that a JYP idol is at rehab for smoking."

"It won't. And she's doing well from what I've heard..."

This was the only time Han was grateful for the staff gossiping. Immediately, he felt calmer. Considering the boys had spent the last few days blowing up your phone and worrying where you went, it was an oddly relieving feeling hearing you were at rehab. They had tried asking JYP himself, asking the manager of the company where you were but all they said was that you were safe.

"I know where she is!" Han bursted through the apartment door, slamming it shut behind him as he panted out of breath.

"Woah, woah, ok, deep breaths, let's sit down," Chan, with the darkest circles around his eyes yet, gently sat Han down on the sofa. He felt awful. He thought he had driven you away from them all. From the group. From the relationship. And that had been eating him up inside. It was a wonder he could act so calm with the news of you going into rehab.

"Rehab? For smoking? I didn't even know that was a thing," Seungmin hummed in thought, his arms crossed.

"I didn't either, but I overheard the staff. They say she's doing well. It's a good thing, right?" Han's eyes stared through the souls of everyone gathered in the lounge, begging for some sort of confirmation that things would get better.

"I mean, at least we're a bit more in the know then our own fans about why our girlfriend is on hiatus," Changbin brushed his fluffy, dark hair out of his eye.

"Can't we go and see her?" Felix wondered, lifting his head up from where it rested on Minho's shoulder.

"We shouldn't," Minho quietly sighed.

"Why not?" Jeongin quickly turned to him, mouth parted in shock that he didn't want to see Y/N.

"No, he's right. She's gone there for a reason. To get better. It's what we all said to her, isn't it? We'll see her soon. And when we do... It'll all be better," Chan helped everyone see sense. He was right. You had listened to them. You went and got help and were solving the problem. If they suddenly ambushed you and got in the way of that... You'd be back to square one.

•••

Today was the day, you were finally going back to the boys. You spent a good 3 weeks at rehab, and had been advised on some good coping mechanisms to take your mind off of smoking and how to create some healthier habits. You had shown good progress and it was deemed acceptable for you to leave and spend time back with your loved ones. And you couldn't lie, you were incredibly nervous. You had dropped a text without reading the spam that littered the groupchat, notifying your boyfriends what time you'd be returning, but after that you once again did not read anything else that was sent.

"Oh my baby, I've missed you so much," Han was the first one at the door, pressing kisses all over your face as he took you into his arms, holding you lightly.

"I've missed you too," you cried immediately, despite the weight off your shoulders.

"You're good now, right, darling?" Seungmin softly tugged you away from Han, both of his hands cupping your face whilst his thumbs wiped away your tears.

"I'm better," you nod through tears, Seungmin pressing a kiss to your head and giving space for your other boyfriends to soothe you and reunite with you. It had only been three weeks, yes, but 21 days had never felt so long.

"I'm proud of you, come here," Changbin scooped you into his arms and lifted you slightly, making you giggle before your feet touched the ground once more.

"Thank you... I'm sorry. I didn't realise what I had done... How far it went, you know?" you began, looking down at the floor as Hyunjin came and wrapped his arms around you from behind, his long arms securing you to him.

"We're just happy to see you here, honey, healthier," he whispered into your ear soothingly.

"And please talk to us in future. We had time to think after that, moment, and we know you were doing it as an escape. But we're here for you," Jeongin pecked you on the lips, your heads pressed against each other for a moment before he too moved away.

"Always, we're always here," Felix reiterated what Jeongin preached, and kisses you as well, noses rubbing against each other as he moved away, a cute expression on his face.

"Come here," Minho opened his arms, and you reluctantly left Hyunjin's arms only to be happy again in the warmth of your other boyfriend's embrace.

"Thank you for waiting, all of you," you swayed with him in his hug, until you pulled away and it was only Chan left.

He stood a few metres away, back to you, shoulders shaking ever so slightly.

"Channie... babe," you sighed, tugging his hand to turn him and face you. His words had hurt you the most but it was also a huge wake up call. "Please, look at me, I'm not mad. I'm so grateful."

"I was too harsh with you," he bit his lip, hard, not wanting to let any tears escape.

"I needed it. Look at me now, I'm here, I'm better, and I've got habits I can stick to instead. Ones that won't hurt me. And they won't hurt you guys either," you looked up at him, one hand running through the hair at the nape of his neck and the other cupping his face.

"I'm so glad you're back... We were worried... Lost without you," Chan admitted, staring up at the ceiling before kissing you deeply, expressing all the emotions he had held back whilst you were gone.

"It's all good now. Plus, you should all be proud of me-"

"We are proud of you, baby," Jeongin cut you off stroking your hair.

"Well, be even prouder because I know how to bake an amazing carrot cake if I say so myself," you laughed, sharing a new skill that had occupied your stress and been taught whilst you were away.

"You can bake with me now! Oh my gosh! It's a miracle!" Felix cheered, tugging you into the kitchen as the other boys chuckled from behind you both.

"I didn't think you meant this very second!"

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

697 notes · View notes

anotherblinder · 1 year ago

Text

The Ring

Summary || (Y/n) Shelby loses her ring and Thomas helps find it

Word Count || 1.2k

Pairing || Thomas Shelby x Reader

Warnings || There are no warnings

Notes || Hello! It's been a moment since i last posted but here i am with another fic! This one just came to mind while i was writing other fics and i just had to write it out! Super thanks again to @runnning-outof-time for proof reading! Go read her works she is absolutely amazing!

Overwhelming frustration surged through (Y/N) as she looked frantically around the house. Even the help was trying their best to look for it. (Y/n)’s wedding ring had gone missing. She swore up and down she never took it off her finger. It was a very uncommon occurrence for her to remove it. Which is why there was such a panic settled in her.

The whole house had been searched and it still hadn’t turned up. Feeling defeated, tears started to prick her eyes as she tried to remember where she could have lost it. Not even noticing when her husband Thomas had got home. Too preoccupied with trying to find her precious ring. The Shelby was beating herself up for losing it. Deep down she knew Tommy wouldn’t be upset and just buy her a new one. The thought of having a new one broke her heart. This one means so much to her, it was the one he gave her when they had nothing. How hard Tommy worked to get her that one when they had almost not a dime to their name. It meant so much to her, showed how much he loved her and worked to get her a decent ring at that time in their life. That’s why she was desperate to find it.

Seconds after he walked through the door, he could see the unusual panic in the house. Well, of his wife at least. Frances had told him the details of what’s been happening over the last few hours. Tommy let out a sigh before thanking the woman and going to his wife. He could see the frustration and panic written all over her. Carefully he walked over to her and placed his hand on her back.

“Darling, it’s just a ring, I can buy you a new one.” He reassured her

This seemed to be the wrong course of action. The tears she had been holding back started to fall down her cheeks. Pain was evident in her eyes as she looked at him. It made his heart clench at the sight, realizing what he said did not bring her any comfort at all.

“I don’t want another ring! I want that one!” She cried

At that she had moved away from Tommy and stood looking around the room. The man didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her. It was just a ring, at least to him it was. They didn’t need a silly little piece of metal to show the love they have for each other. Though he didn’t understand, Tommy wanted too. It was clear it meant a great deal to her. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“What makes you upset about losing the ring? It’s just a ring.”

Tommy watched as she paused and turned to face him again. Taking the opportunity, he gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. He’d do anything to make his wife happy again, even if that means tearing up the house finding the ring she seems to love so much. Her lips trembled as she took a moment to gather her thoughts.

“It’s not just a ring, Tommy. You got that for me when we didn’t have this life. When you couldn’t even afford a ring like that. I know how hard you worked for it. Just to get something nice even when I said not to worry. It showed me how much you truly love me and how far you went to get it. That’s why I want that one, it’s full of so much love. I don’t want just some pretty ring you can buy now. I want the one you worked tirelessly to get.”

Tommy didn’t know what answer he was expecting but it wasn’t that. It made his love for her deepen as he heard her words. They pierced his heart. Sure, he worked hard for the ring but always felt his wife deserved a better ring. Hell, he even swore that when he made it, he’d get her a better ring. When he heard she lost it he thought it would be a good opportunity, but now? Now he just can’t bring himself to do that. Not when he knew she would hate whatever ring he bought her to replace the one she loves so dearly. Unknown to Tommy a smile had grown on his lips as (Y/n) explained why she didn’t want a new one. Leaning in he gave her a gentle kiss and pulled away to look at her.

“We’ll find your ring.” He said

“Thank you, Tommy.”

‘Where did you have it last?” Tommy asked

She paused and thought for a moment.

“I remember seeing it in the garden last.”

“Let’s go look there.”

Tommy took her hand and walked out to the garden. He knew deep down if they did not find it, he would buy one to replace it. She would not like it, but he could not let her walk around without a wedding ring either. Tommy is still a man who wants to keep his wife to himself. He held onto the hope that they would find it out here, somehow. The couple split up to cover more area of the garden. After searching one area Tommy came to her favourite part of the garden. It was covered with her favourite flowers with a beautiful bench he had made with a table to accompany it.

The spring winds blew around him while looking for the ring. First, he checked the table then the ground next to it. Both coming up empty. A glimmer in the bed of flowers caught his eye. Knowing what it was, he got down on one knee and picked the ring out of the flower bed. It amazed him how she could have come to love this old thing. But maybe he was starting to understand. Footsteps echoed to his left and he turned in that direction. (Y/n) stood a few feet from him and Tommy swore she never looked more beautiful. The sun is shining off her beautiful hair. Her eyes shining like priceless jewels, always full of love when she looked at him. Like he was the only thing in the world to her. Gently he picked a flower from the stem while standing to his feet.

Noticing him coming toward her, (Y/n) rushed over and he could see the hope on her face. Smiling Tommy held up the ring, watching the giant grin that formed on her face.

“You found it! Oh, thank you Tommy!”

Wordlessly he took her left hand and slid the ring back onto her finger. Right at home where it belonged. He placed a kiss over the ring, making blush rise to his brides' cheeks at the sudden show of affection. The smile on his face showed just how much he loves the woman right in front of him. Feeling the romantic mood in the air, both leaned in for a kiss. A soft, slow kiss showing the love they still held for each other after all these years. Pulling away, he placed the flower he picked earlier behind her ear and held out his arm.

“Let’s go inside and tell them you found it eh?”

“Let’s, then I can help with cleaning up the mess I made in the house.”

Thomas Shelby didn’t understand the love she held for that ring. Then, he understood, seeing the twinkle in her eyes and it shining off her finger after he found it. Thomas too, came to love that dingy old ring he bought years ago. Because it held all the love they held for each other. It’s truly as priceless as the woman he holds in his heart.

#thomas shelby x reader #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby imagine #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine

3K notes · View notes

merbear25 · 4 months ago

Note

For Kinktober, can I please request Sensual Massage with Sanji?

Hey! Hope you've been well. I think I got a bit carried away with this 🤭 Hope you like it 💜🧡

You’d been working yourself to the bone for what felt like forever. It’d been a while since you did anything for yourself. Among some of your female coworkers, there was word buzzing of a spa that could offer more than just the typical services.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, fem!reader, some fluff, vaginal fingering, sex work

Tender hands (Sanji)

Rubbing your neck, you lingered over by the water cooler ideally. With your boss piling heaps of assignments on you, the stress of responsibility was affecting you physically.

“Feeling alright?” Your coworker chirped.

You glanced over at her and gave her a reassuring smile. “Yeah, just a bit overwhelmed if I’m being honest.”

The older woman nodded. She showed some hesitation to continue, deciding to take a quick look around to avoid any of your nosey colleagues.

“Between you and me,” she leaned in. “I was feeling the same as you not too long ago. But then, I discovered this spa and let me tell you, those masseuses certainly have magic fingers.”

The implications had you nervously fidgeting. “Oh, yeah?” You smiled politely.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a card. “Here, darling,” she soothed your nerves. “You go here and tell them you want this special. They’ll take good care of you.” She grinned at you before shuffling away to her cubicle.

Glancing at the card, you saw that the phrase ‘Sundae’ was scribbled on the back. You promptly shoved it into your pocket before continuing the workday—the business card seemingly burning for you to give into your curiosity.

Staying behind the others to finish the last bit of paperwork you’d been given. The heavy footsteps of your boss was the most dreaded sound imaginable.

“Just got these in. I’ll need these by the end of next week.” The way he smiled came off as if he thought he was doing you a favor by extending the due date. He patted the stack before excusing himself for the evening. He called back a ‘see you tomorrow’ with his back turned to you, waving lazily.

Rubbing your eyes from exhaustion, you could hear the strange offer from earlier calling out to you. As you stared at the card, you felt yourself being pulled more and more into temptation. It was such a bizarre recommendation, one which your curiosity couldn’t resist seeing through.

Upon arriving at the location, the dim lights made you second guess the hours. No, it should still be open. The door wasn’t locked but the lights were kept suspiciously low.

You tapped on the service bell and anxiously waited for someone. No more than a few moments must have passed before your nerves started getting the best of you. Wondering what on earth you were doing there, you slowly turned towards the door.

“Sorry to keep you waiting!” You heard a friendly voice call out.

“Oh! No, it’s fine… I-I don’t really know if I’ve got the right place actually.”

“What is it that you’re looking for?” The blonde man’s face made him appear kind and his voice was rather comforting.

You peeked down at the card and said in an almost mousey tone, “A sundae?” What a ridiculous code name… you thought to yourself.

His eyes lit up. “Ohh, okay,” he let out a good-natured chuckle. “First time?” The rhetorical question made you stumble over your words.

“Don’t worry. There’s no judgment here and everything will be kept confidential.”

As he talked you through the basics, wanting to be sure this was something you were fully aware of and consented to, you were so flustered that you nodded and agreed to nearly everything he said.

“You can say ‘no’ if this isn’t for you, you know.” It came from a place of concern due to your unnatural eagerness.

“N-no! I…I want to do this. I’ve just never done anything like it before,” you admitted.

“In that case, I can assure you that you won’t regret it.”

He led you towards one of the massage rooms in the back. He informed you that he needed to prepare some of the oils and that you should go ahead and undress and lay down on the table. Giving you a warm smile, he left you momentarily.

Looking around the room, the candles gently placed throughout were not yet lit and the colors were an earthy tone, which did well to set a calming atmosphere.

Laying down on the table, you buried your face into the headrest in an attempt to hide your shame. As you were lost in your thoughts, the door clicking pulled you out of your fog.

As he apologized for the delay, he kept the conversation friendly and open in an attempt to ease those nerves of yours. He lit the candles and pressed play on the playlist, which was set to peaceful sounds of nature.

The squirts of warm massage oil coaxed a slight shiver from you.

“Is it too cold?”

“No, just wasn’t expecting it.”

His laugh was soft, endearing even. When his hands found their way to your back, you took a deep breath and closed your eyes. As his touch kneaded over your sore spots, your murmurs signaled for him to be gentle. When he came across tight knots, his skillful fingers worked them out—your soft moans being the encouragement he needed.

He focused on your lower back, and then eventually your glutes and thighs. You clung to the table in anticipation, only to be hushed by Sanji, “Just relax.”

He watched your movements closely, trying to gauge how you were feeling. Your legs parting gave him his answer. Massaging your inner thighs, his thumbs pressed small circles into your fatty flesh. The oil was warming your skin, making his fingers the welders of your pleasure.

Working his way closer to your pussy lips, your arousal was obvious—the wetness glistening slightly even in the dimly lit room. His thumbs tenderly massaged around your labias, which made the slick between them seep out a little. His other fingers kneaded your ass, causing you to involuntarily arch your back. The sweet moans coming out of you filled the room. As one was placed on your hip, rubbing it gently, the other traced over your folds.

Your body quaked and your breath hitched in your throat. The warmth from the oils was fanning the flames within you. His fingers glided over your clit, prompting your hips to shake and a whimper to pass over your soft lips.

His thumb circled over your sensitive bundle. Each gasp and tremble only made him work you harder to squeeze each euphoric laced cry out of you. As you groaned from your orgasm, his hands returned to your back—his hands firmer in order to work out the lingering bit of ecstasy.

He moved to your shoulders, letting you enjoy the stress of the day being released. Your huffs and soft pants were subsiding, which meant you were perfect for the next round.

Your hips were the center of attention again. The masseuse’s hands roamed over them, being sure to give an ample amount of affection to your lower back and sides, as well. You whimpered while his fingers teased your entrance. Instinctively, you bucked your hips slightly into his touch, yearning to be completely and utterly satisfied.

Though you couldn’t see his face, it held a look of relief. Seeing his clients go from a nervous and stressed wreck to ones so willing to put their trust in him never ceased to leave him in awe of their courage, their beauty.

He plunged one finger in to start. As your body adjusted to it, he could feel your walls spasming already. The feeling of a gorgeous woman coming undone from his touch was like no other. He couldn’t help but give in.

“That’s it, my sweet thing,” he cooed at you. “Just let go.”

He put another finger in you, followed by another shortly after. Your cries of ecstasy were making his head spin. Watching you grip at the table, the way you convulsed on his fingers, and the faint slapping of his hand against your slit: you were a depiction of pure angelic imagery.

Your groans and pants were evident that you were close to that long sought after edge. Leaning in slightly, he whispered for you to cum for him. Burying your face into the softened table, you could feel yourself slipping.

Filling you completely with his experienced fingers, your body couldn’t hold on any longer. Your cries of reaching the peak of euphoria sounded throughout the room. As he guided you through your orgasm, a faint smile found its way to your spent complexion. Your body, now totally relaxed, went limp on the table.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice still raspy from your high.

Your politeness was much too sweet. He rubbed your hips again, beaming down at you. “That wasn’t so bad then, was it? You did great.”

He gave you some time to get dressed as he rang you up. Exchanging pleasant chit-chat, his inviting demeanor might be the most intoxicating thing about him.

When he handed you your receipt, his fingers ran lightly along yours. With a friendly grin, he added, “Hope to see you again.”

Your heart was pounding so hard against your chest, it was as if it was about to leap out of you. Once in your car, your eyes caught sight of a small note he left on the paper.

“Come by anytime during the evening on weekdays. I’ll be here to help you relax. Xoxo.”

Fawning over the note, you made sure to drop by every once in a while. Who knew? Maybe there was something other than business to explore.

#kinktober 2024 #one piece #x reader #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #op #one piece x you #one piece smut #sanji x reader #sanji x you #op x reader #op x you #black leg sanji

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imaginedanvrs · 6 months ago

Text

thrown to the wolf

masterlist

word count: 2.2k

warnings: toxic relationship, manipulation, dubcon, fingering, praise, overstimulation

“I cannot fucking believe you,” Natasha spat, glaring at you in a way you had never seen before. She was the master at concealing the face of her emotions, only ever letting a select few peek behind the mask she wore. You were one of those few who had seen her genuine smiles amongst sly smirks and suggestive grins, the rare moments of crippling fear, sadness and now anger.

“After everything she’s done? You’re going back to her like none of it ever happened? Like she never-” You couldn’t let her finish. You couldn’t hear her bring up the past when you were so close to finally moving past it.

“She apologised for that,” you said quickly. Natasha’s gaze hardened. “She told me that she’s getting help. She’s changed. I think she deserves some credit for that.” Your words came out as a plea.

“She doesn’t deserve shit.” You averted your gaze from your friend, not liking the doubt she was placing in your mind. You knew how it looked - going back to an ex you had cried to her over countless times. But you had been talking to Wanda for a few weeks and it really did seem like she had changed. She had asked you for a second chance and after seeing how much she wanted it, you decided to give her that. It wasn’t like you hadn’t missed her.

“This is just another one of her lies, I thought you would have learnt to spot them by now,” Natasha continued.

“She told me you would say that,” you muttered.

“Of course she did!” Natasha all but yelled. You shrunk back on instinct, one that Wanda had brought about. “Do you hear yourself? Or is she already that deep in your head?”

“She’s not like that anymore!” You exclaimed, wishing Natasha could see Wanda’s potential like you could.

She’s changed, you told yourself again because you had heard the Sokovian say it so many times.

Natasha scoffed.

“I sat by you for months,” she began with a slow deliverance that unnerved you. “I was your shoulder to cry on. Most people go to their partners for that but you couldn’t because yours was the problem. I begged you to leave her and I was so fucking happy when you did. I thought it meant you were going to be able to move on to someone that actually gave a shit about you. Now I see that that could never happen because you don’t want that for yourself. You’re addicted to heartbreak, y/n, so the next time she hurts you don’t you dare come running to me. I’m done.”

Natasha gave you one last glare before she left, leaving you alone to call the only person you could.

“Shh, I’m here,” Wanda cooed as she stroked your hair and kept her other arm draped over your trembling form. “She doesn’t understand us is all. You’re in the right place now. You’re okay.” You hiccuped through your tears and clung to your girlfriend tighter. Her shirt was wet with your tears and you felt guilty but Wanda hadn’t said anything, too focused on comforting you. She put you first, because she had changed.

You whimpered in response and Wanda continued her unwavering reassurance. Maybe distance really had made your heart grow fonder as you could’ve sworn your girlfriend’s voice had never soothed you as much as it did in that moment. It washed over you and you bathed in the safety it enforced.

“I’m glad you’re here,” she told you. You smiled against her.

“Me too,” you mumbled. Wanda hummed, lifting your chin so she could look at you clearly and wipe the tears smudged across your cheeks. You closed your eyes at the intimate touch and leant into her palms.

“You should stay the night.” You agreed without much thought, wanting to stay close to your girlfriend so that you wouldn’t feel so alone without Natasha. You wondered if she really was done with you and couldn’t believe that getting back with your ex was reason enough for her to do so. Yes, Wanda hadn’t been great in the past, but that was a different time.

“I’ve missed having you here,” Wanda continued as her hand wandered down to your waist where it settled with her thumb beneath your shirt. You weren’t uncomfortable with the touch, but you were aware it was there. “I never stopped loving you, you know?” You tried to prevent your body stiffening at her words, knowing that she would immediately feel it, but the confession was one you were hoping not to hear at least not so soon.

You and Wanda had had that issue last time. Wanda moved too fast too soon and although it was easy to blame being a stereotype at first, it quickly became something more intense than you could handle. Once she broke out the l word, Wanda thought you could instantly move in with her and applied the pressure to do so. Once you finally gave in you also unknowingly gave up your privacy which Wanda had deemed totally normal. You shook the thought from your mind, she had changed.

“You don’t have to say it back,” she told you once you remained silent for a moment.

“It’s just…” you played with the duvet absently as you considered your words and tried to convince yourself that you didn’t have to walk on eggshells anymore. “I thought we were starting over so it’s a little soon to be-”

“Yeah,” Wanda cut you off with a slight strain to her voice. You looked up and the Sokovian gave you a smile of reassurance that wiped the hesitance from your mind enough for you to settle back in.

The thumb under your shirt was joined by several fingers that caressed your skin lightly and you grabbed the tv remote to distract yourself for several minutes before you selected a sitcom that Wanda seemed to be in the middle of rewatching. At your selection, the redhead placed a small kiss on your forehead.

It didn’t take ten minutes for her hands to begin to wander further up beneath your shirt. “Wanda,” you murmured when her fingertips grazed your bra. You didn’t trust how your skin felt electric under her touch. You were meant to be taking things slow. She hummed in acknowledgment as her fingers danced across your back and settled on the clip of your bra. “Wanda,” you repeated, voice firmer this time as you looked up at her.

Then, her hands went to the backs of your thighs as she sat up in the bed and manoeuvred you to straddle her lap, bringing your faces centimetres apart. You clung to her shirt as your breath hitched, caught off guard by the way the emerald in her eyes glistened with excitement. “I missed you,” she told you again, slipping her hand behind your neck to close the distance between you. She tasted just as you remembered and kissed you with that same vigour. She always kissed you like it was the last one or as if she had a point to make, always so unrelenting.

“Wait,” you muttered when she briefly paused to let you breathe. Her lips were on your again before you could continue. It was dizzying. So much so that when she finally moved away to kiss your neck you still couldn’t get your words out.

“Slow down,” you eventually managed but Wanda didn’t appear to be in a listening mood.

“You want this,” she told you when she dragged your shirt over your head. “I want this,” she continued, laying you down on the bed as she kissed the valley between your breasts. You had always been so weak to her advances, unable to ever deny her even if you were feeling too tired from a long day or pained from a workout. Wanda had a way of making you forget everything except your need for her, as though she had engrained herself in every fibre of your being.

When you looked down at her, you were left in only your underwear and Wanda was pulling her own shirt off to expose the lace she wore beneath. You didn’t get a chance to admire it because she was on you again, latching her lips onto your nipples as her hand snaked between your legs. She chuckled when she felt the damp cloth of your underwear.

“Still so needy,” she murmured. “You haven’t changed.”

“Have you?” Your voice was shaky but you knew the redhead heard you. She didn’t answer, instead pushing your underwear to the side so she could rub your clit that pulsed under her touch. You were familiar with that game - using sex to distract you from your doubts. It was pathetic that it still worked.

Wanda dragged her long fingers down your slit, collecting the slick before pushing two fingers inside and groaning at the tightness she was met with. “Have you let anyone else touch this pussy?” She nipped at your neck as she steadily pumped her fingers into your cunt.

“No,” you admitted. It had always felt like a betrayal when you had gotten close, despite being broken up with Wanda for a year. You wouldn’t tell her, but you had still thought about her when you got yourself off at night. There was a lot to be said about your past relationship with the Sokovian, but no one had ever fucked you like she did.

“That’s my good girl,” she praised, sucking a deep mark into your neck, as though she couldn’t wait more than twenty four hours of you being back together to mark you as hers. You didn’t want to know if that blind devotion went both ways. You weren’t ready to be met with that telling avoidance again. So you leant into your girlfriend instead.

“All mine,” she continued as she began to thrust her fingers harder, reaching deeper inside you than you could yourself.

“Yours,” you muttered because you really couldn’t help yourself. You didn’t care that you were adding fuel to the fire as long as the burn of Wanda’s touch didn’t stop. You would have to deal with the consequences later.

“I love you,” she said, breath hot against your skin. “I know you love me too.” You pulled Wanda away from your neck and kissed her desperately. If she was going to keep playing her games, you were going to at least try and win a round. You seemed to take the redhead by surprise when you slipped your tongue into her mouth but she didn’t freeze for more than a second, unrelenting on giving up any of the control you were fighting for. She bit on your lip and pressed her thumb to your clit while her fingers found that special spot that made you shudder.

“I love you,” she repeated, as though her win had made her giddy and she wasn't in the middle of making you a mess. You whined, clenching around her digits as you felt your orgasm approach embarrassingly fast. Wanda knew the signs of you squirming and stilled her fingers inside of you.

“Wanda,” you whined, giving her a pleading look that only made her smirk. It was unfair how hot she was when she was arrogant.

“Tell me you still love me,” she demanded. You tried to look away but she grabbed your jaw with her free hand. “I know you do. Tell me the truth and I’ll let you cum.”

“Wanda,” you tried. She flexed her fingers, pressing so hard against the back of your pussy that your back arched off the bed.

“Tell me,” she repeated, eyes glazed with a dangerous need that you had always been guilty of encouraging.

“I love you,” you admitted. There had been times when you hated Wanda, yet you never stopped yearning for her. You were tangled in an insatiable knot that you never really tried to escape from, not when it felt so good to be trapped.

“Cum for me, detka,” Wanda instructed as her fingers resumed their unbashful rhythm that made your body preen and eventually release onto the redhead’s fingers with a cry. “Give me another,” she demanded as soon as she added a digit and continued to finger you deep and hard. Your body followed her cue, wrapped around her and clenching for more.

You lost count of the amount of orgasms she coaxed from your submitted body, each one more tiring than the last until your body was shaking even when she wasn’t touching you. Every spare breath you had she stole with a kiss and although both your bodies were covered with a thin layer of sweat she still pulled you flush against her when she deemed you had enough.

You watched with hooded eyes as your girlfriend sucked on her digits, moaning softly as your taste overcame her taste buds. She grinned at you before it turned softer, more tender, and placed a kiss on your shoulder as she held your frail frame.

“Just as sweet as I remember,” she chuckled, because nothing had really changed.

#marvel #dark!marvel #kinda??#wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #gxg marvel #wanda maximoff angst #i really hope this reaches its target audience

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skateordiebitch · 3 months ago

Text

I LIKE HER || D.F. x reader

‘i’d give the world to her

as long as my heart's still beating

as long as she's next to me

because i like her’

summary: dominic goes to your house for thanksgiving. to say he's nervous... is an understatement.

inspired by '20191009 i like her' by mac demarco! this was so cute to write, even though my parents are definitely not like this and i have never invited a significant other over... like ever LMFAO. i also wrote after i smoked and made it an reader x elliot story. (???) so i had to re-edit all of it this morning. last time i'm ever doing that😭

enjoy, and as always, requests are open <3

The drive to your parents’ house was quiet, but not in the usual, comfortable way.

The silence hung in the air, thick with tension and anticipation, rather than the easygoing, relaxed kind you’d grown used to in the car with Dominic.

His fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly his knuckles were bone white, his jaw clenched in concentration, and every now and then, he glanced at you with a nervous, half-smiling look that almost made your heart ache.

It was endearing in a way, but also a little disconcerting.

This was the same guy who could walk on stage in front of hundreds of people without flinching, who seemed to breeze through life with his trademark devil-may-care attitude.

Yet today, in the face of Thanksgiving dinner with your parents, Dominic was unmistakably, undeniably terrified.

You watched him for a moment, your mind spinning with a thousand thoughts. You’d known Dominic long enough to know how much he hated being vulnerable, how much he hated showing weakness.

But here he was, acting as though he were about to face a firing squad instead of a family dinner. It was hard to reconcile with the confident, magnetic man you knew.

“Babe, you’re acting like you’re about to go into court or something,” you teased gently, reaching over to rub his shoulder in a reassuring gesture.

He let out a breathy laugh, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.

His gaze remained fixed on the road, his expression still tense. “I might as well be. Your dad hates me, doesn’t he? I mean, he’s gonna hate me for sure. I’ve heard all about him.”

You rolled your eyes, fighting back a smile. “My dad doesn’t even know you yet. Besides, you’re gonna charm him just like you charm everyone else. Remember when you met my friends? You had them in love with you in, like, ten minutes.”

“Yeah, but I don’t want to marry your friends,” he muttered under his breath, still staring at the road with a furrowed brow.

Your heart skipped a beat at his admission.

It wasn’t the first time he’d hinted at something more serious between you two, but this was the first time he’d put it so plainly.

His face flushed as soon as the words left his mouth, and he cleared his throat awkwardly, trying to cover up his slip. “I mean… I’m just saying, meeting your parents is a big deal. Like, huge. And what if I mess it up?”

His voice trailed off, and you could hear the uncertainty in it, the raw vulnerability that was so unlike the confident, carefree persona he usually put on.

You leaned in, your hand resting gently on his arm.

“Dominic,” you murmured softly, your voice full of affection, “You’re not going to mess it up. Just be yourself. That’s the guy I fell in love with, and I promise, it’s the guy they’ll love, too.”

He glanced at you, his eyes softening just slightly, the weight of his worry easing a little. He gave you a small, almost shy smile. “You make it sound so easy.”

“It is easy,” you reassured him, squeezing his hand gently. “Trust me.”

—

When you finally pulled up to your parents' house, the scene that greeted you was exactly what you’d expected: a whirlwind of activity.

The smell of roasted turkey and pumpkin pie wafted out the door as your family bustled around, setting the table, carrying in food.

Your mom was the first to spot you, her face lighting up in a smile as she hurried over to pull you into a tight hug.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you’re here,” she exclaimed, pulling back just enough to look at you. Then her eyes shifted to Dominic, her gaze appraising but friendly. “And you must be Dominic! Oh, we’ve heard so much about you.”

Before he could react, she pulled him into a hug as well, surprising him. He blinked in surprise, eyes wide for a second, but recovered quickly, offering her a warm smile. “Thank you for having me… It’s an honor to be here.”

Your mom laughed, waving him off as though he were a nervous child. “Oh, please, don’t be nervous. Come on in and make yourself at home.”

As you walked inside, your dad was standing near the kitchen, his arms crossed in a way that made him look more intimidating than he actually was.

His thick eyebrows were arched in that signature skeptical way you knew all too well. Dominic swallowed hard, his anxiety creeping back up as you nudged him gently forward.

“Dad, this is Dominic,” you said, your voice casual, but your heart was hammering in your chest, too.

Dominic extended his hand, his palm a little damp, and your dad took it with a firm grip. “Dominic, huh? So, what’s this I hear about you being a musician?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic replied, his voice a little tight but polite. “It’s something I’m really passionate about.”

Your dad gave him a measured look, nodding slowly. “The music industry can be tough. I hope you know how to fix a car, too. It’s good to have a backup plan.”

You stifled a laugh, nudging Dominic’s shoulder with playful affection. “He’s got more talent than you’d think, Dad.”

Dominic cleared his throat, trying to shake off the nerves that still clung to him. He rubbed the back of his neck and gave your dad a tentative smile.

“Yeah, it’s... not the easiest career, but I love what I do. And I’m lucky to have people who support me.”

Your dad hummed, his expression still unreadable. He motioned toward the dining table. “Well, dinner’s almost ready. Why don’t you two take a seat?”

Dominic followed you to the table, but he felt your dad’s eyes lingering on him, sizing him up. He leaned close to you as you sat down, whispering, “Is he always this intense?”

You smirked, whispering back, “Only when he thinks I like someone.”

Dominic laughed nervously, glancing at you for reassurance, and you shot him a quick wink. The tension in the air seemed to lessen just a little.

---

As the evening went on, Dominic started to find his footing.

He was surprisingly good at navigating the conversation, drawing people in with his self-deprecating humor and lighthearted stories.

He told everyone about his disastrous attempts at joining his school’s basketball team—complete with exaggerated, comedic flair—and regaled your family with embarrassing anecdotes from his childhood.

The more he shared, the more relaxed everyone became, and your mom, who was already refilling his drink and piling mashed potatoes onto his plate, seemed to be warming to him more with every passing minute.

“So, Dominic,” your dad said, setting his fork down and fixing him with a serious look. “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

You groaned softly, shooting your dad an exasperated look. “Dad, don't—”

But Dominic cut you off, his voice steady despite the tremor of nerves beneath it. “I like her,” he said, his eyes meeting your dad’s. “A lot. Like, I really, really like her.”

The room went silent, the only sound the faint scrape of your mom’s fork against her plate as she froze mid-bite.

You blinked, stunned, your heart doing a flip at the raw honesty in Dominic’s words.

Your dad raised an eyebrow, leaning back in his chair. “Is that so?”

“Yes, sir,” Dominic continued, his voice gaining strength. “I know this might not be the usual way things go, but your daughter... she’s incredible. She’s smart, funny, talented, and honestly, she inspires me. I don’t take that lightly.”

Your dad stared at him for a moment that felt like an eternity before finally nodding. “Well, Dominic” he said gruffly, “I can respect a man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to say it.”

Your mom beamed, breaking the tension. “I think that’s sweet. Don’t you, honey?”

Your dad grunted, which, in his world, was as close to a blessing as Dominic was going to get.

And at one point, while you were helping your mom in the kitchen, you couldn’t help but sneak a glance at the dining room. Dominic was seated next to your dad, who was animatedly showing him how to carve the turkey.

Dominic, who you knew had probably never held a carving knife in his life, was listening intently, his expression one of exaggerated concentration.

“Well, look at that,” your dad said with a proud smile as Elliot made a rather passable slice through the turkey. “You got it!”

Dominic looked over at you, beaming as if he had just won a prize.

He came back to the table and offered you a slice of turkey, his grin practically glowing with pride.

“Guess I have a new backup career,” he said, his voice low, and you couldn’t help but laugh at how ridiculously pleased he looked.

“You’re doing amazing, babe,” you whispered, squeezing his hand under the table. “And by the way, you’re definitely passing the test.”

He squeezed your hand back, the relief in his smile obvious. “Thank God. Your dad was terrifying for a minute there.”

“He’s just protective,” you said, your voice soft as you glanced at your dad from across the room. “But he likes you, trust me.”

As the evening wore on, the laughter and conversation grew more relaxed. Everyone was at ease, sharing funny stories, teasing each other, and enjoying the food.

Your dad had even stopped making “backup plan” comments, and you could tell that Dominic was starting to truly feel like he belonged.

—

When dinner was over, you and Dominic decided to step outside for a quick walk to get some fresh air. The cold night air was crisp and refreshing, the stars shining brightly above, and you both walked hand in hand down the quiet street.

“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” you teased, nudging his shoulder.

He let out a long breath, pulling you close to his side. “Honestly? I was more nervous than I’ve ever been for a show.”

“Well, you pulled it off,” you said, smiling up at him. “And now my parents love you.”

Dominic let out a long breath. “Not gonna lie, I think your dad just aged me by ten years.”

You laughed, slipping your hand into his. “No, you did great. And for the record, I like you too.”

Dominic dramatically froze, his eyes wide as he looked down at you. “Wait. No way. You do?!”

You smiled, leaning in to kiss his cheek. “Yes, idiot. I do. A lot.”

Dominic grinned down at you, his forehead pressing against yours. “I didn’t want to just impress them, you know. I wanted them to… see how much I care about you. How serious I am about you.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you just stared at him, breath caught in your throat. “Dom…”

He reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his eyes soft and steady. “I don’t want to be with anyone else. And I wanted them to know that.”

You stood there, frozen for a moment, the weight of his words settling over you like a gentle but undeniable truth.

The crisp night air seemed to fade into the background as you searched his eyes for any sign that he didn’t mean it.

But there was nothing but sincerity, nothing but warmth.

Your chest tightened, and you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of your mouth, even as a lump formed in your throat. “Dominic,” you breathed again, your voice barely above a whisper.

He lowered his hand from your face, but not before his thumb traced the curve of your cheek, his touch lingering like he couldn’t quite bring himself to pull away.

The tension that had gripped him earlier in the evening—his fear of not measuring up, of not being good enough for your family—seemed to have dissolved completely.

Now, standing under the vast, quiet sky, he looked like a man who knew exactly what he wanted. And what he wanted was you.

“I mean it,” he continued softly, his voice steady. “I’m in this. With you. All the way.”

You felt your heart swell, that familiar warmth spreading through your chest, pulling you closer to him.

The way he said it—so earnestly, with so much confidence—left no room for doubt.

You had always known Dominic was passionate about his music, about his career, but hearing him talk about his feelings for you, about how serious he was about the two of you, made everything feel… different. Bigger. Realer.

“I’m glad,” you said, finally finding your voice, your hands slipping around his waist as you leaned into him. “Because I don’t want anyone else either.”

He smiled then, a soft, private smile just for you, and it felt like everything you needed to say was already understood between you.

There was no need for more words.

Instead, he cupped your face gently, pulling you in, his lips brushing against yours in a slow, deliberate kiss—one that spoke volumes more than words ever could.

After a long moment of silence, he finally broke it with a grin. “So, do I still have to do the dishes to make a good impression?”

You laughed, pulling back to meet his eyes. “Absolutely. That’s part of the initiation.”

Dominic groaned dramatically, throwing his head back in mock despair. “The things I do for love...”

You laughed again, the sound light and carefree, the weight of the evening finally lifting.

He pulled you close, his arms wrapping around you as he lifted you off your feet in one smooth motion, spinning you around as you squealed in surprise. You both tumbled into a fit of laughter, your heart soaring in his arms.

When he finally set you down, he kept you close, his hands still resting on your waist as you both stood there in the quiet street, the laughter tapering off into contented silence.

For a moment, everything felt so right, so easy, and the world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, standing under the stars.

“You know,” Dominic said quietly, his voice low and serious again, “I think I could get used to this.”

His thumb traced small circles on the back of your hand, the same thumb that had strummed a guitar for hours in front of audiences but now held your hand like it was the most important thing in the world.

You leaned into him, your head resting against his chest. “What, the being nervous part? Or the Thanksgiving dinners?”

He chuckled softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Well, I didn’t think I’d ever say this, but… Thanksgiving dinners are kind of great. Even with all the anxiety.”

You smiled up at him, feeling a surge of affection that was almost overwhelming. “I’m glad you think so,” you murmured, “because there are going to be a lot more of them. I’m kind of attached to this family, you know.”

His eyes softened, the playful teasing replaced with something deeper, more earnest. “Yeah, well… I plan on being around for all of them. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your breath caught again, and this time you didn’t try to hide the way your heart swelled in your chest. He wasn’t the type to say something like that lightly, and you knew he meant it.

There was a certain finality to his words, a quiet but unmistakable promise.

Before you could respond, Dominic nudged you gently, a mischievous glint returning to his eyes. “But seriously… dishes?”

You rolled your eyes, trying to hold back a smile. “Yes, seriously. You’ve got to pay your dues somehow.”

Dominic groaned again, but his grin was back, and it was impossible to miss how relieved he seemed.

The tension that had been building in him all day, the worry about impressing your parents and meeting their expectations, seemed to have melted away completely.

It was as if the approval he’d so desperately sought had been given, not through grand gestures or perfect words, but through simple moments of connection, laughter, and genuine sincerity.

“Alright, alright,” he said, pulling you closer again and pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Dishes it is. But you know, I’m going to need something in return.”

You arched an eyebrow, sensing a tease in his voice. “Oh? And what might that be?”

He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “How about a lifetime supply of Thanksgiving dinners?”

Your heart skipped, and you could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed softly. “Sure,” you whispered back, “Maybe, you’ll even get something else, too.”

Elliot’s eyes darkened with playful curiosity. “Oh yeah? And what would that be?”

You leaned in closer, your lips just a breath away from his. “You know what I mean,” you said, letting your words linger in the air, a teasing edge to them.

His breath hitched, his grin widening. “At your parent’s house?!”

“Okay, maybe not here… But, when there’s a will there’s a way— I have a car, you know.”

“Well, then I like the sound of that,” he muttered, and you could feel the heat between you shift, the playful tension suddenly charged with something more electric.

“I’m gonna do those dishes so damn fast,” he said, his hand sliding down your back as he pulled you closer again.

You leaned into him, lips brushing against his in a kiss that was a little slower, a little more promising this time. “Good,” you whispered against his mouth, “because I always keep my word.”

—

The quiet of the night stretched on around you, but you didn’t mind. It was peaceful, comfortable, and for the first time all evening, it felt like everything had come full circle. The anxiety, the awkwardness, the moments of uncertainty—gone, replaced by something so much more real.

Something you both could stand on.

Dominic squeezed your hand one more time, and you both stood there for a few moments longer, just holding each other, as if savoring the last remnants of the day.

Finally, with a small but contented sigh, he let go of you reluctantly. “Alright, we should probably head back in before your dad starts hunting me down for that backup career.”

You laughed and took his hand, tugging him back toward the house. “I think we’ve earned our place here, don’t you?”

He smiled, his arm slipping around your waist as you walked back toward the warmth of the house and the sounds of family inside. “Yeah. I think we have.”

And as the door closed behind you, you realized you couldn’t have asked for a better Thanksgiving, a better future— one where Dominic, despite all his nerves and uncertainties, could be part of the family.

And that was more than enough.

#dominic fike #dominic fike fan fiction #euphoria #dom fike #elliot euphoria #my writing #dominic fike imagines #dominic fike x reader #dominic fike x you #requests open #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction

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wintrwinchestr · 1 year ago

Text

lather (joel miller x f!reader oneshot) 18+

moodboard by @iamasaddie

summary: you decide to try shaving your pussy for the first time on your first night settling into jackson with joel. he accidentally nicks you while helping you shave, but he makes sure to kiss it all better <3

warnings: 18+, smut, early jackson joel, established d/s relationship, porn with some plot (probably too much), oral (f receiving), innocence kink/roleplay, daddy kink (bordering on ddlg), shaving, a bit of insecure reader, blood (tried to keep it short & not very graphic), sprinkle of humiliation, pet names (darlin’, baby, babygirl, lil’ girl, honey, sweet girl, etc), joel refers to reader’s pussy as she/her, spitting, reader can be lifted by joel and has hair that can be tucked behind her ear, implied *legal* age gap (reader went to school in the qz)

word count: 2.9k

a/n: this fic is based on an nsfw audio by u/organ_donor86 on reddit!! i went to reddit and found it again so i could properly credit them for the inspiration, but i haven’t heard the full audio in probably 2 years so this fic is only based on what i could remember of the premise <3 this is my first time writing smut, nice comments and reblogs are appreciated if you enjoyed!!

You were sat on the end of the first clean, comfortable bed you had encountered in twenty years, taking in the surroundings of the charming bedroom you now found yourself in: The deer antler lamp emanating a warm glow from the bedside table, the framed paintings of various Wyoming-native wildlife hung up on the walls, the earth-toned woven rug beneath your bare feet. You took a deep breath, savoring the smell of a house that had never known decay. For the first time since outbreak day, you felt safe. Truly safe. Of course, Joel did his best to protect you as you traveled together over the last year or so since you met him, but you were never really without a looming threat of danger nearby.

His familiar, comforting voice startled you out of your daze.

“Y’ alright, babygirl? Settlin’ in okay?”

You looked over to where Joel was standing in the doorway, freshly showered and changed into a clean flannel and jeans.

You smiled with a relaxed sigh, flitting your eyes around the room again. “Yeah, I like it here, it’s cozy… Can’t wait to finally get a good night’s sleep in this bed tonight.”

“I’m with ya, baby, Maria ‘n Tommy gave us a real nice place, huh? Speakin’ of which, it’s about dinnertime, I think they just started servin’ it up down at the dinin’ hall. Why don’t we all go get somethin’ to eat together, hm? I know you must be hungry, sweet girl.”

Your eyes widened and your smile dropped a bit at the prospect of socializing with strangers, especially after the exhausting day you’d had getting to Jackson. Joel clocked your expression immediately, approaching where you were sat on the bed with slow strides. He gently pinched your chin between his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your head up to meet his eyes.

“I know, my babygirl’s a shy one, huh? There’ll be a lotta people down there, I know…” He stroked a lock of hair behind your ear with his other hand. “Why don’t I go down there myself and see about bringin’ back some plates for us to eat together, just you and me? We’ll save the introductions for tomorrow, alright, darlin’?”

You nodded, your shoulders relaxing as your anxiety was soothed by his reassurances. He smiled down at you and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. “Alright, sit tight, honey, Daddy’ll be right back… We’ll have a nice lil’ night together.” Another soft kiss, to your lips this time, and he was gone from the bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

You got up from the bed and padded over to the window. Peering out to the main road, you could see a crowd of people lined up outside the dining hall to get their evening meal. You figured you had at least fifteen minutes or so until Joel returned, deciding to take the opportunity to explore more of the house while you waited.

You wandered out of the bedroom and down the hallway, peeking your head around the doorframe of the first room you came upon. You reached out your arm and blindly felt around for the lightswitch, flicking it on once you found it. You were still standing in the doorway, knowing by now to wait a beat for the roaches to scatter before stepping fully inside. But to your surprise, there were none. The fluorescent ceiling light revealed the room to be a bathroom, a clean one at that.

You stepped over the threshold, immediately taking notice of the charming basket of homemade-looking toiletries perched on the sink’s granite countertop. It might as well have been Christmas morning, the overwhelming joy you felt at the idea of getting to take a bath in a clean tub with soap after all these years.

You picked up a white bar of soap from the basket and brought it to your nose, your eyelids fluttering closed as you inhaled its sweet vanilla scent. When you opened your eyes again, you noticed something even more enticing in the basket: a razor. The QZ school you attended had allowed the boys to have them in order to keep their facial hair under control, but deemed them a non-essential for the girls. Which, you supposed, was true, but you had still always fantasized about having a smooth, hairless body like the girls you had seen in wrinkled magazines and faded movie posters.

Your newly acquired shaving supplies planted an idea in your head: you were going to surprise Joel by shaving your pubic area for the first time. You imagined what it would be like to make a move on him after dinner, getting him hot and bothered, letting him carry you back up to the bedroom to have his way with you, and the wanton look on his face when he pulled down your cotton panties to find your pussy glistening and bare for him for the first time.

You practically tripped over your own feet in your rush to close the bathroom door. You quickly stripped off your worn jeans and underwear, tossing them into the corner of the bathroom to be dealt with later. You plugged up the sink and began to fill it with warm water, hoisting yourself up onto the countertop.

You swished the bar of soap around in the water, then rubbed it on a small patch of hair to create some suds. You placed the razor onto your soapy mound, then dragged it upward along your skin toward your belly button. Removing the hair proved to be more difficult than expected, and you were surprised to find that it hurt. It felt like you had just ripped out the hair instead of shaving it clean off. Just as you had touched the razor to the same thatch of hair to try again, you heard Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching, returning with your dinner much sooner than you had expected.

He was slowly turning the knob before you had a chance to get up and lock the door. “You in here, darlin? I was callin’ your name but you weren’t respondin’, and you weren't in the bedroom…”

“Sorry, Daddy… I’m just, um… doing something…” you responded, not very convincing in your flustered state.

“Can I come in, baby?”

You hummed your permission and he pushed the door open. The concerned look on his face dissolved when he saw you, worried at first that you might have been crying. His eyebrows raised and his lips parted in realization as he took in the sight of you before him.

“What’re you doin’ in here, darlin’, hm?”

“I… I wanted it to be a surprise. Wanted to shave it for you…” you admitted with a defeated pout.

“Oh babygirl… you know I’ve never cared about what you look like down there, don’t you?” You suddenly felt shy under his gaze, beginning to regret giving in to your girlish idea.

“I know, but… just wanted to look pretty for you, that’s all… like the girls in the magazines…”

“Oh, baby… you’re already the prettiest lil’ angel I ever laid eyes on… But if you really wanna shave her, Daddy’ll help you, sweet girl, don’t gotta keep struggling…”

He pulled up the worn little wooden stool from the corner of the bathroom and took a seat between your spread legs, gesturing for you to hand him the razor and bar of soap. You gave them up reluctantly, placing them delicately into his calloused hand. Your lips were still formed into a little pout, upset that your surprise had been ruined.

He dipped the vanilla-scented bar into the sink again, then rubbed it back and forth along the same vertical strip of skin above the hood of your clit that you had tried to start shaving first. He took note of the shoddily clipped hairs and how the skin beneath them was already looking a bit irritated from your misguided attempt.

“Gotta shave in the direction of the hair first, honey… like this…” He swished the razor in the water, then demonstrated the technique. The fingers of his left hand were splayed out across your lower tummy, his thumb pointed down, tugging the skin up towards your belly button as he shaved downward with his right. “See, baby? Just like this…” He did a few passes over the area, rinsing the razor in between each one.

You were mesmerized by his movements, watching his expert fingers work to remove coarse hair, revealing velvet smooth skin underneath. His hands looked so strong and competent as they moved from one patch of hair to the next, his brows furrowed and his tongue peeking out from between his plush lips in concentration.

You felt your core becoming wet as he exposed more bare skin to the bathroom’s cool air, his warm breath ghosting over your clit with each careful stroke of the razor. As he pulled away to admire how his work was coming along, the focused tension between his eyebrows released, noticing your hole beginning to drip.

“Oh…” he breathed, gathering some of your wetness on his thumb and bringing it closer to his face, inspecting it. “What’s all this honey, hm? This just from Daddy helpin’ you shave your lil’ pussy?” He sucked his thumb into his mouth, his eyelids fluttering as he savored the flavor. “Taste so sweet, babygirl… always so fuckin’ sweet f’ me…”

You nodded and whimpered at his words, heat rising to your cheeks at his slight mocking tone. “Can’t help it, Daddy…” Your hips started twitching of their own volition, rocking upward toward where his lips were now curled into a faux-sympathetic pout. You knew this was part of a little game he liked to play with you, the one where he made you feel a little embarrassed for being so easily turned on by him.

“I know, honey, I know… Lil’ girl can’t ever help herself, always gets wet f’ me so easily, doesn’t she? But you gotta hold still f’ me, let Daddy finish helpin’ you shave, okay?”

You gave another quick little nod and a hum of agreement that came out sounding more like a pathetic whine, and tried your best to control the movements of your pelvis as he got back to work.

But his big, warm hand was spread out over the delicate skin of your tummy again, and his lips were so close to being right where you wanted them, and what little self control you had been able to muster was quickly beginning to slip away. You were nearly able to contain yourself for the rest of his shaving, but your eager hips betrayed you on what would have been the final pass of the razor, giving a swift little buck toward Joel’s face despite your best efforts to keep still.

He wasn’t prepared for your sudden movement, and the sharp blades nicked the skin of one of your outer lips. You let out a startled cry as a little crimson pearl began to bloom on your sensitive skin. Joel gasped and was quick to apologize, even though your injury was really due to your own desperation. “Oh, Christ… I’m sorry, babygirl, I’m so sorry… here, gimme a tissue, baby.”

With a shaky hand, you reached over to the box of tissues sitting on the back of the toilet, plucking one out to hand to him. He dropped the razor in favor of the tissue, balling it up and gently pressing it to the little cut. His free hand quickly came up to the side of your face, smoothing his thumb across your cheekbone. “You okay, babygirl? I’m sorry, honey, I didn’t mean t’ hurt ya… told ya to keep still for me, baby…”

He wiped away a tear that had slipped from your lashes as you sniffled. “I’m okay, Daddy, jus’ scared me… stings a lil’ bit…”

“Yeah, I’ll bet it does… my poor girl. Daddy shoulda been more careful, knew you wouldn’t be able to control yourself, needy lil’ thing… But you know what, babygirl? Daddy knows somethin’ that’ll help, that’ll make it stop hurtin’...”

“What is it?” you asked, soft voice still wavering slightly.

“Well, I read somewhere a long time ago… that spit can help a lot with lil’ cuts and things…”

You could tell this was part of one of the other little games you liked to play together. The one where you pretended to be innocent and inexperienced, when in reality, Joel had made sure you were anything but. But you liked this game, it put butterflies in your tummy and made your weeping hole quiver when you played the part for him.

“It… it can?” you wondered with a naive-sounding lilt.

“Oh yeah, babygirl, you never heard o’ that before? Spit can help a whole lot, ‘specially Daddy’s spit, can make it feel all better, darlin’...” The stained tissue now discarded, his thumbs gently stroked the slick pink skin of your outer lips as he spoke, careful to avoid your little injury. “And your lil’ baby pussy is a real uncomfortable place to have a cut like this, too… Don’t want my girl hurtin’...”

Your eyebrows were knit together with need as you released a pathetic whimper, your breath hitching and heat rising from your fluttering tummy all the way up to your cheeks. He barely concealed a smirk as he noticed the change in your demeanor, knowing how this particular game had always affected you.

“Whaddya say, sweet girl, hm? You wanna give it a try? You want Daddy to kiss it all better?”

You nodded frantically, your mouth slightly agape as you began to pant out of desperation.

He was quick to deliver a small swat to your inner thigh at your unspoken answer.

“Words, baby, you know better…”

“Y-yes, Daddy, please, want you to kiss it better, make it stop hurting…”

“There you go, good girl. Spread your legs a lil’ more for me, honey, let me see her…”

You wiggled your thighs further apart on top of the counter, giving him full access to your now soaking cunt.

“There she is, baby, she’s cryin’ for me, ain’t she? Needs her Daddy to make her feel all better…”

He placed a few wet kisses to the afflicted area before looking up at you with apologetic eyes. “How’s that feel, babygirl? She still hurtin’?”

You nodded your head with a pathetic little cry, mindlessly chasing after his mouth with your hips. “Still hurts, Daddy…” you vocalized your answer this time.

“Yeah? Poor lil’ pussy… She need some more lovin’ from her Daddy? More of his spit to help make her feel good again?”

Another frantic nod, another eager mewl. “M-more… please, Daddy…”

“Alright, babygirl, don’t you worry, Daddy’ll give her some more…”

He latched his lips onto your swollen clit, alternating between sucking it into his mouth and giving it soft kitten licks. His large hands were firmly planted on the inside of each of your thighs, keeping you spread wide as he devoured you. You were already so sensitive from his teasing, it wasn’t going to take much more to push you over the edge. You were practically riding his face, your hips canting feverishly into his mouth with each expert drag of his tongue across your folds.

When he started fucking his tongue into your bitty hole, swirling it around and then licking back up to your clit to circle it, you knew you weren’t going to last much longer.

“Please, Daddy, please… feels so good, ‘s too much, gonna cum, Daddy…”

“Yeah? I dunno, babygirl, I don’t think she’s healed all the way just yet… might still need some more takin’ care of,” he murmured into your pussy before pulling his head away to spit directly onto your cunt. The lewd action was enough to launch you into your orgasm right then, his head still between your legs, slurping up the divine combination of his saliva and your sweet juices. As you rode it out, his tongue maintained a gentle, steady strum on your clit, eliciting breathy whines of please and yes and Daddy…

When you finally came down from your high, your breath catching up to you and your hips stilling, your pussy twitched one last time at the sight of Joel’s wrecked face. He was smirking up at you, his face soaked with your slick, thumbs rubbing soothing circles onto your thighs.

“Well, I reckon it worked, whaddya think, darlin’? She feelin’ better now?”

“Much better… thank you Daddy…” you sighed, still catching your breath.

“You’re welcome, babygirl, such pretty manners… Now, why don’t we get ourselves cleaned up and have some dinner, hm? I even brought back a slice o’ huckleberry pie for ya if you eat all your vegetables like a good girl…”

You lit up immediately at the promise, prompting Joel to reach into the basket and pull out a soft, cream-colored washcloth. He dunked it in the water, squeezing out the excess, and carefully cleaned up your now freshly bare pussy. When he was done, you took the washcloth from him, rinsing it in the sink before repeating his cleansing process on his own face. He helped you up off the counter before leaving the bathroom, returning promptly with a fresh set of clothes for you to change into. He helped you into a clean pair of panties, which you noted felt nice against your naked skin, then into a warm sweatshirt and comfortable leggings.

He carried you into the kitchen and sat you down at the little table set for two. You ate your dinners together by soft candlelight, relishing the feeling of having a sturdy roof over your heads and warm food in your stomachs.

You supposed tonight, and this little house in Jackson, represented a new beginning in more ways than one.

tag list: @beefrobeefcal @gracieispunk @iamasaddie @rebel-held

#my writing #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x you #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #daddy!joel miller #joel miller smut

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