#pretend monday is a normal day and not the day i thought i was going to (figuratively) die

[paralien]

The worst thing in the entire world isn't waiting for a planned Talk™; It's having waited for A Talk™ for days and then less than 24hrs before it, the person who planned it asks if you can do a rain check and take it another day

#Im going to tear my skin off. #I'd put away all of tmrw to having my heart (most likely) shattered and now its been delayed to tuesday so now i have to just #pretend monday is a normal day and not the day i thought i was going to (figuratively) die #Feel kind of bad for only replying to all of his texts w just. one liners. no emojis. but im just. so emotionally tired #hes been ignoring me for 2 months. and now he suddenly wants to have a talk and i bet i already know what hes going to say #which isnt going to be “hey ive been worse than awful” which he has been #but instead he'll most likely just say hey sorry i need to work on myswlf and also im moving away and like #i swear i wasnt ignoring you bc i thought abt u while we didnt see eachother for 2 months #and then completely ignore the elepahnt in the room which is that he cant just say. hey im not ready for a relationship. but then: #flirt with me. kiss me. constantly cuddle w me. initiate sex. and then ignore me for 2 whole months and pretend any of that was ok or normal #im just. tired and anxious and feeling so pessimistic. like theres no way up from here

[leaderwonim]

i’m just a teenage dirtbag baby ( like you. )

based on this edit !!

pairing. troublemaker!nishimura riki x goody-two-shoes!fem!reader

summary. nishimura riki was infamous for being handsome and also quite the character. he’d purposely throw papers everywhere, bump into people without a care, and ditch class like it was nothing. you were the complete opposite, but deep down, nishimura riki knew you were just like him

warnings. cursing, smoking, riki destroys someone’s private property 😭, riki is your typical teenage dirtbag, he also calls her sweets

“Hey.”

Nishimura Riki slides onto the seat right next to yours, blinking twice as much as he should be. You knew it was one of his teasing habits, meant to make you shift uncomfortably under his gaze.

“What do you want Nishimura?”

He puts his hand over his chest, pretending he’s wounded by your words. “Nishimura? We’re on last name basis sweets?”

“Shut up,” you say, pushing his face away with your index finger. “I have exams to study for.”

“Let me see.” He ignores your protests, flipping your textbook to his side as he eyes the papers. “Ew, mathematics? You’re a bigger nerd than I thought sweets.”

“Don’t call me sweets.” You say, sticking out your tongue in annoyance. “And get out of here.”

He lifts both hands in surrender, “alright, alright, I’ll leave sweets. Gotta meet Jungwon anyways.”

You thank whoever above was listening to your pleas of making Riki leave. Turning around to face the desk he was in, you realize he hadn’t pushed in his chair.

“Nishimura!” You groan out loud, pushing it in with your foot. This earns you a shush from the librarian, which only fuels your hatred towards the Japanese boy.

.♡.

“Y/N! Is that you?” There was Nishimura Riki’s annoying voice again, the one voice that you dread to hear everytime you entered school.

“Don’t you have anything better to do than annoy other people?” You ask, face clearly unimpressed.

“Someone woke up on the wrong side of bed.”

You glare at Jungwon’s unneeded input in the conversation, which makes him snicker and look away.

“You guys are ditching again?”

Riki and Jungwon shrug, making you roll your eyes. Of course the two were ditching, why did you even ask?

“We were gonna stop by the cigarette shop and get a pack or two.”

Jungwon elbows Riki, as if he wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.

“What? We can trust Y/N, isn’t that right sweets?”

“You still call her sweets?” Jungwon groans. “Gross dude. Let’s go.”

Jungwon starts walking, Riki closely following behind him. Just before they exit the school corridors, the boy throws you a wink, one that you roll your eyes at.

“You’ll love me one day sweets!” He shouts.

“In your dreams Nishimura!”

.♡.

It seemed like nothing was going your way. The next week had approached and even though it was barely Monday, your teachers decided it was a good idea to assign a bunch of exams on the same day.

With quivering hands, you tried not to get the tears that were currently coming out of your eyes onto your physics paper, which was marked with a 68.

How on earth did you get a 68? You were so sure you knew the formulas that were needed for the exam, but what was on the test looked completely different from what you expected.

You could barely find it in yourself to walk home, legs practically dragging across the concrete floor as you wipe your tears away with your windbreaker.

“Sweets?”

Although your normal self would snarl at the nickname and the voice it belonged to—you found yourself too tired and miserable to care at this point.

“Riki?”

You wipe your eyes again, vision clearing in enough to make out Riki leaning against one of the large trees a few meters away from the school.

“Hey, what’s wrong sweets?” He takes the cigarette that was currently dangling on his mouth out, squishing the head of it on the dirt floor beside him.

“Are you smoking again? That’s bad for you and you know it.”

“Geez sweets,” he laughs, finally standing up. “You looked like you just bawled your eyes out yet you still have enough energy to lecture me?”

“Shut up.”

“Ah, there she is again.”

Riki makes his way closer to you, head peering down to reach your level.

“Don’t cry.” He says softly, and it’s the first time you heard him in that tone. “Makes your eyes all red and scary.”

“Yah!”

He laughs when you hit him on the shoulder, sound that used to make you frown but you were weirdly enjoying it now.

“I’m kidding sweets!” He slings an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “You’re pretty, even when you have tear stains all over you.”

The two of you continue walking, you not too sure where Riki was even taking you.

“Where are we going?” You sniffle, looking around the area.

“This new arcade, cmon, I’ll drive us.”

The two of you are in front of his beaten down Toyota, although it looks pretty clean from the inside. You thought Riki’s car would be an absolute mess, but it seemed like he was a clean freak when you opened the door to the smell of vanilla and cinnamon.

“You actually clean your car?”

“I’m offended you thought I didn’t sweets!” He says, frowning. “Thankfully, I don’t hold grudges.”

He puts the key in, hands tapping against his leather seat. “Wanna tell me why you’re so sad?”

He places a hand on the head of your seat, body twisting back with one hand on the wheel to pull out of his parking spot. He looked incredibly handsome doing such a basic task that it almost made your ability to speak go away.

“I got a 68 on my physics test.” You say, shoulders defeated.

“No way.” He continues driving, eyes glancing back and forth from the road to you. “Mr. Yuji’s class right? Fucking hate him.”

“Yeah well, I do too.”

Riki takes a road that you’re unfamiliar with, and he suddenly stops the car in front of a house.

“What are you doing Riki?” You say, watching as he opens his trunk and leaves the car.

“Doing something I should’ve done a long time ago.”

He pulls out a bat, and your eyes widen when he smashes it against a mailbox, crushing it in completely.

“Holy shit!” You shriek, eyes widening as Riki throws back the bat into the trunk, closing it with a loud bang.

He runs back to the car, slamming the door behind him.

“And that’s for Y/N motherfucker!” He yells before driving off, his boyish laughter could be heard from a distance.

“You’re crazy.” You breathe out, body still in shock from what you witnessed. “Who’s mailbox was that?”

“Mr. Yuji’s.” He smirks, eyes still on the road. “Let’s just say—this isn’t the first time I’ve been to his residence.”

“Wow.” You rest your head against Riki’s cold windows, still taking in what just happened. “Thank you?”

“You’re welcome sweets.” He smiles, teeth practically shinning like the movies. “Now how about that arcade I promised you earlier?”

.♡.

After hanging out with Riki at the arcade on Monday, you realized the boy wasn’t as bad as you thought.

He had won you a gigantic brown teddy bear, a cliché that you never thought would have happened to you after failing your physics exam.

He made you name it James The Third, and made you promise that it was your child and you had to take care of it while he was away.

“I heard you hung out with Nishimura this weekend!” You swore nothing could go past Byeol, who was currently geeking at the sudden news of you and Riki being so close.

“Shh, keep your voice down!”

Byeol wiggles her eyebrows, giggling at your stressed state. “You two are so cute! Opposites attract!”

You start to walk away from her, using the excuse that class has started. Sure Riki was handsome and weirdly—nice—you weren’t sure what your feelings about him were yet.

“Hi.”

You basically flinch out of your seat when you see him right next to you. He had a can of soy milk and a slice of chocolate cake with him.

“I brought you soy milk, hopefully you like it.”

You give him a small smile, not trusting your words enough to actually speak. Thankfully for you, the teacher entered right after, starting her lesson on trigonometry.

“Nishimura Riki, do you really have to eat in my class?” The teacher stops writing, placing her chalk on the board as she stares directly into Riki’s eyes.

He looks up from the bangs poking at his eyes, giving the teacher a stupid smile.

“Yes Mrs. Park, I’m very hungry.”

“Very well.” She wants to scowl at Riki, you could tell by her furrowed eyebrows. But she doesn’t, instead, picking up her chalk again to continue the lesson.

3 minutes don’t even past when Riki’s chewing gets incredibly loud and obnoxious, making you place a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from bursting out laughing.

“Is the chocolate cake that good, Riki?” The teacher asks, trying not to completely snap at the boy.

“It’s sooo good.” Riki says, smiling fully with his teeth.

The class blurts out in laughter and hysteria, making Mrs. Park practically crush the chalk that was in her hand.

“That’s it! Go outside Nishimura Riki!”

He rolls his eyes, standing up from his seat. “Fine, but I was just eating cake.”

He looks over to you, who was currently giggling underneath your breath. He gives you a small smile, flicking your forehead softly before leaving the room, leaving you a blushing mess.

.♡.

“Pssst.”

You turn around, already knowing who was on the other side.

Of course Nishimura Riki was there.

“I’ve got two tickets to see Arctic Monkeys, come with me Friday night?”

You shake your head softly. “Oh I don’t know Riki, I have to study.”

“Don’t say that sweets,” he groans, head slumping into your shoulder. “Have some fun!”

“Shhh!” You look around, thankful the librarian wasn’t here to scold you guys. “Okay, okay, I’ll go. Just be quiet.”

“Yay!” He cheers, and it’s the happiest you’ve ever seen of the boy. “I’ll pick you up, okay? Friday night, 8pm exactly.”

“Okay Riki,” you say. “I’ll see you.”

Friday comes by in a flash, and you weren’t sure what to wear to the concert.

Despite it being your last year of being a teenager, you still haven’t attended one. So you were in a real struggle to pick what would be perfect.

You decided to go with a plain black top and cream colored cargos that hugged your waist, one without straps so your shoulders could be out. You were sure it’d get hot in the concert with all the people that would be attending.

“You look cute.” Riki says as he rows down the window. “Get in.”

The stadium is only 20 minutes away from your house, and you’re starting to get nervous when you realize how many people were attending.

“Hey,” Riki says, taking ahold of your hand when he notices it shaking. “It’ll be the most fun night of your life. I promise.”

And he was right. Although you were sure you weren’t going to enjoy it all that much, you found yourself singing and swaying along to the music.

The stadium was dim, making the music hit even ten times harder.

When I wanna be yours started playing, your vision was focused on the band whereas Riki’s eyes were focused on you.

“Hey!” You giggle, catching him staring at you. “Focus on the music dummy! You’re the one who bought the tickets.”

“Yeah yeah,” he says, smiling ear to ear. “The concert’s great and all but you’re even better.”

You don’t get to question his words before he crashes his lips onto yours with the lyrics wanna be yours blasting in the background.

#enhypen x reader #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen fluff #enhypen texts #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen x you #enhypen scenarios #enhypen ff #enhypen niki #niki x reader #niki x you #niki x y/n #nishimura riki x reader #nishimura riki #niki imagines #ni ki enhypen #ni ki x reader #ni ki fluff #ni ki #ni ki imagines #ni ki scenarios #ni ki x y/n

[supernovafics]

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐅𝐎𝐑

"i'll be there for you" universe masterlist

pairing: bestfriend!roommate!steve harrington x fem!reader

word count: 4.2k words

warnings: explicit language, fluff, smut (minors dni), fingering (f receiving), protected sex

summary: in which after a long drive back from denver, you and steve are back in your apartment and can finally lean into the fact that everything has changed

author's note: i told myself that i was gonna take at least a little break after the last thing i posted for this series/universe, but then i got this idea and i had to run with it because i have no self control lmao Anyways! hope yall enjoy this!<3333

general note: everything in this universe/series can be read as standalone oneshots but to understand the full “lore” it would prob be best to read the other stuff too<333

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.���゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Winter 1986

The first thing you noticed was that his hair was damp from his shower, and the first thing he noticed was the pajamas you changed into after your own shower; a simple black tank top and a pair of shorts because it was really warm in the apartment for some reason. 

You had initially come out of your bedroom to say a quick goodnight to him. It was almost eleven and after driving back home from Denver— a drive that actually felt a lot longer than the initial one— all you wanted to do was sleep for at least the next ten hours. You had especially been craving your bed at home during the final hour of the seventeen-hour car ride.

However, now you were looking at Steve and he was looking at you, and it seemed as if the current set of circumstances you were in hit you both all at once. 

You were completely alone for the first time since things changed, since you both jumped into being something more with each other. You hadn’t even kissed since that first night— although you both had desperately wanted to— because the timing was never right. A movie night led to all of you falling asleep in the living room Saturday night, and then Sunday night mainly consisted of you all trying to get as much sleep as possible to prepare for the long drive back home. 

Now it was Monday night and there was absolutely nothing bad about this timing. Even the exhaustion you’d felt before you took your shower and washed the entirety of the day away was long gone. 

You joined Steve in the kitchen where he was drinking a glass of water. “Hi.” 

“Hi,” He said as he set the glass down next to him and you leaned back against the counter across from him. 

That short exchange was the extent of the conversation at that moment. You could’ve shifted it in absolutely any direction right then— mention picking Harold up from Dustin’s house tomorrow since he’d been taking care of the hamster for the past few days, or even randomly talk about how you two would be back in your Film & TV history class tomorrow and you’d forgotten to do the reading— but you didn’t want to say any of that. 

After these last few days of pretending that everything was normal between you two around Robin and Eddie, it felt almost unbearably obvious what you both wanted to happen right here in this moment. But neither of you made any move to do it; maybe it was a little game of “who’d do something first?” that you two were unspokenly playing right then. 

Your eyes flickered down to his lips for the briefest of moments and you could feel your cheeks warm at him taking in the entirety of your form; the simple tank top and pajama shorts you put on with the initial thought that you’d be going to sleep soon after you did— now sleep was the last thing on your mind. You suddenly felt so exposed, but at the same time, you didn’t really feel that shy under Steve’s gaze. 

Still, though, you were feet away from each other, and neither of you took the plunge into finally acting on everything you’d wanted to for the last couple of days. 

“This feels kinda weird, right?” You abruptly asked. “It’s the first time we’re entirely alone. And we actually don’t have to pretend that nothing has changed between us.”

“A little weird, yeah,” Steve answered as he finally stepped closer to you. “But, also, not really.”

He closed the entirety of the distance between you two and his hands found your hips. You could only smile up at him at first. The warmth from his touch made you inwardly sigh in contentment, and it made you want more.  

“Actually, you’re right. This isn’t weird,” You decided with a quick shake of your head. “Just different. Good different.”  

“Good different,” He agreed with a nod, smiling back at you. 

One of his hands came up to softly cup your cheek and you instinctively leaned into him, letting your eyes slip shut as he dipped his head down toward you. Your noses brushed and his lips ghosted over yours just for a second. It was slow and teasing, and you knew that he was doing it on purpose, dragging out the moment that you both had been craving since the first time it happened in your bed at the cabin. And at first, you didn’t mind it— his lips pressing against the corner of your mouth and then against your other cheek and then your nose— you could see yourself wanting every single kiss you shared with him to be as drawn out and as sweet as this felt. 

But then the anticipation became too much, and you were desperate to have his mouth against yours, so after his lips landed on your forehead, you whispered a soft and pleading, “Kiss me, Steve,” and you didn’t need to say it twice. 

From there it was as if a flip was switched and there was no longer anything slow about this moment. His mouth was against yours and you hurriedly kissed him back, already reaching up to thread your fingers through the damp hair at the nape of his neck. 

Just like it had that first night, this kiss felt so right and damn near perfect. You inwardly smiled and let out a happy hum against his lips, not wanting to pull away just yet although you could already feel yourself getting lightheaded. 

You pushed yourself up on the countertop with the help of Steve’s hands on your waist, only detaching your lips from his for the briefest of moments to do so, and then you gripped the sides of his t-shirt to tug him closer to you. He was standing right in between your parted legs and your chests were flush against each other, but that still didn’t feel close enough to you.  

There were probably a thousand things you wanted to say to him right then, mainly statements that would’ve started and ended with quietly muttered I love you’s. But, Steve fucking Harrington was a phenomenal kisser, and every thought you had in that moment seemed to vanish as soon as it came. He so easily turned you into a pile of want and need. 

You were able to catch your breath when he pulled away from your lips and tilted your head upward so that he could kiss along your jaw and then move down to your neck. When he pressed his lips against a particularly sensitive part of your neck, it elicited a soft whimper from you, and you could feel him smile against your skin in response. 

Steve pulled back to look at you, searching your face and seeing through you completely, he could probably easily read your current incoherent thoughts. 

Even though he was the one pretty much doing everything right then, he still looked just as fucked out as you felt; flushed face and disheveled hair, you couldn’t even remember running your hands through it or pulling at it that much in the past few minutes. It felt nice to see the effect you had on him too. 

One of his hands moved to your hip and started teasingly playing with the thin waistband of your shorts before slowly snaking its way inside of them. You sucked in a quick breath when his fingers made contact with the small wet patch at the front of your underwear. 

You were absolutely soaked, that didn’t surprise you in the slightest, but you still couldn’t help but shyly turn your head and look away from him. 

“You’re cute when you’re shy.”

You rolled your eyes and still avoided his gaze. “Shut up.”

Steve laughed at that. “Very, very cute, actually.”

You didn’t get a chance to say any sort of playful comeback to him because he started lightly teasing your clit through your underwear, which made everything you were about to say become lost on the tip of your tongue. His other hand moved to push the thin strap of your tank top off of your shoulder so that he could press a soft kiss against the skin there. Your brain was very close to completely short-circuiting, and you knew that he could tell that. 

You were barely able to keep your eyes open, but you finally met his gaze again. Instead of looking even the slightest bit smug about how easily he was making you fold with everything that he was doing, even with the subtlest of touches, there was only the sweetest look written across his face and it made you want to combust. It still felt a bit insane to you that any of this was finally happening in the first place. 

Steve’s hands hooked themselves into the waistband of your shorts and underwear. “Can I?”

“Please.” You were quick to nod at his question and were already lifting your hips a bit so that he could pull your bottoms off of you.

Your shorts and underwear were gone in one quick movement, hanging off your right ankle for barely a second before falling to the floor. 

Steve gave you a look that was so full of lust and adoration that it made you feel flustered all over again. It was a look that had never been reserved for you. But, now, it was, and you knew that it always would be if everything stayed this way.  

His fingers worked their way through your folds and teasingly traced up your slit. Your nervousness was immediately washed away when his middle finger slowly pushed into your entrance. The only thing falling from your lips was a quiet moan, and your hands found the edge of the counter and gripped tightly. Your eyes squeezed shut and you let out a louder moan when he added another finger inside of you. 

It all too suddenly hit you that it was him doing this to you right then— way too easily turning you into an absolute mess on his fingers. 

Your best friend. Your Steve. 

The softest laugh fell from your lips at the abrupt thought. 

“You okay?” He asked, and your eyes met his as you nodded because it was pretty much the only coherent thing you could do at that moment. 

You leaned in to press a quick kiss against his lips, but then your brain was once again reminding you of what was happening and you abruptly let out another little giggle.  

Steve gave you a curious look. “You sure?”

“Yeah, I’m okay, I’m good. And this is good too. Really, really good,” You assured him, somehow able to find your voice, even as his fingers continued their slow and steady movements inside of you. You let out a quick breath. “It’s just my mind keeps randomly reminding me that it’s you doing this right now, and that just seems so fucking surreal. Like, in a way, I kinda can’t believe this is happening. And none of what I just said probably even makes sense.” You let out another breath that turned into a moan. “Ah, but, anyway, I promise I’m so good right now. Really good.” 

Steve only laughed at your rambling and then pressed a soft kiss against your lips. 

His free hand found your hip again and he guided you to the edge of the counter so that he could hit a deeper angle with his fingers. 

“Shit, fuck,” You breathed out at the new feeling. You couldn’t even feel embarrassed at how quickly he was bringing you to the precipice and how quickly you were about to fall over the cliff because you just felt so fucking good. 

One of your hands let go of the counter and moved to find your clit; you just needed that little bit of extra pressure against the sensitive nub to fully send you over the edge. But, Steve was nudging your hand away before you could touch yourself so that he could do it instead. The pad of his thumb started stroking your clit almost too perfectly in quick circles and you had to bite your lip to keep from immediately screaming. 

“M’gonna come,” You were probably moaning too loud at this point, but you didn’t care. 

He kissed your cheek and then his mouth was right against your ear. “Go ahead. Come all over my fingers.”

His voice was low and could barely be heard over your moans and whimpers, but you still heard him perfectly. And with one particularly rough brush against your clit, you were squeezing tightly around his fingers and coming hard; heart pounding in your chest, ready to burst out of it completely, and seeing something equivalent to stars behind your shut eyes. 

“Fuck, fuck, Steve,” You whispered, head tilting upward as he continued fingering you through your orgasm, trying to prolong it for as long as possible. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” He was smiling at you as you came down from your high and your bleary-eyed gaze met his. 

In that moment, you could only smile back and slightly shake your head at him in response. Your brain was now a complete pile of mush, to say the least. 

You let out a soft breath and leaned back, abruptly hitting your head against the cabinet behind you with a hard thud in the process. “Ouch.”

“Shit. Are you okay?” Steve asked as his hand came up to rub the back of your head and you leaned into his touch.

“Yeah,” You laughed a little. “I’m fine. It doesn’t really hurt.” 

“You sure?”

“Mhm,” You nodded as your eyes traveled downward and you saw how noticeably hard he was beneath the navy blue basketball shorts he was wearing. 

“Are you okay?” You asked, meeting his eyes again and smiling. You didn’t give him a chance to respond before you were reaching into his shorts and pushing past his boxers so that you could immediately wrap your hand around his length. 

“Jesus Christ,” He muttered as his eyes slipped shut and you leaned in to kiss his neck. You stroked his cock in a soft and teasing way and could only smile at the strained “Fuck” he let out.

“Is that okay?” You asked, lips right against his ear. 

“Perfect. Fucking perfect,” He answered in the quietest whisper before he dropped his forehead against your bare shoulder and then let out a soft chuckle against your skin.

“What?” You asked as you continued your slow movements. 

“You were right,” He said, letting out a quick breath. “This does feel so surreal. But, really, really good.”

You laughed a bit. “Told you.” 

After just a second, he pulled away from your shoulder and stopped your strokes by placing a hand on your wrist. 

You tilted your head at him. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t wanna cum in my boxers. I need to be inside of you,” He said, and you immediately nodded at his words because there was actually nothing more you wanted than that too.

The next few moments moved in a quick kind of blur, and when you would later look back on this entire night, it would feel as if simply fingers were snapped and one moment was switched to the next. Steve was lifting you off of the counter and bringing you to his bedroom after your soft words of, “We can’t do it here because we’ve ruined the kitchen enough for one night.” You were simultaneously laughing and kissing his face as he led you to his room, arms circling the back of his neck to keep you steady. 

He set you down at the foot of his bed and you moved upward. It wasn’t until your head was against his pillows and you were looking at him standing a few feet away from you that you noticed the difference between you two right then— he was still fully clothed, and all you had left on was your black tank top.

“This isn’t fair.”

“What?”  

You propped yourself up on your elbows. “I’m basically naked, and you still have all of your clothes on.”

He nodded at your words and then peeled off his t-shirt and slipped out of his shorts so that he was just in his boxers. “Is that better?”

You nodded and smiled at him. “Mhm, much.”

Your head fell back against the pillows again and he simply stared at you for a few moments, eyes traveling from your bare legs all the way up to the small smile on your face. 

“This slightly reminds me of that one game night we had at your house when we were sixteen.”

All you could do was laugh at the randomness of his words at first. “How can you possibly be reminded of Monopoly right now?”

“Not that night,” Steve said, laughing a little as he shook his head. He stepped into the bed and leaned over you, one hand brushing your side before settling on your bare hip. “The night when you invited some people from your school over too and someone suggested we all play strip poker.”

“Oh, that night,” You responded, quietly sighing in contentment at the feel of him tracing circles against your skin. You thought about the memory he was referring to. “That was the first time I saw you shirtless in a non-swimming or beach setting.”

He dipped down, nose brushing over yours before softly pecking your lips. “And that was the first time I ever saw you in just your bra and underwear.”

You playfully smiled up at him as you pushed a hand through his hair. “We really suck at poker.”

“Yeah,” He said, smiling back at you.

“And we both ended up making out with someone that wasn’t each other that night.” You weren’t entirely sure why you decided to bring that up when Steve was on top of you, settled between your parted legs with his boxer-covered hard-on pressing perfectly against your inner thigh. 

You almost regretted saying it for fear of ruining “the mood,” but then he was laughing and kissing you again. 

“And look at us now; finally making out with each other. Full circle moment.” 

You smiled again. “I think we’re doing a lot more than just making out, but yes, very full circle.”

You started playing with the hem of your tank top and Steve helped pull it up and off of you. He tossed it somewhere on the floor and one of your hands found the back of his neck to bring him toward you in a needy kiss. He pulled away after a second and started kissing along your jaw and then moved down to your neck, leaving deep red marks against your skin that you knew would probably be annoying to attempt and hide from your friends later, but you couldn’t really find it in you to care about that right then. You were tugging harshly at his hair, which elicited the softest sounds from him, as you let out your own contented hums because of how much you adored having his mouth against you. 

Everything felt so good right then, but it wasn’t enough. 

“I need you. Please,” You told him, hips bucking upward so that you could feel something more and Steve groaned in your ear. 

Your hands went to the waistband of his boxers, hurriedly trying to push them off of him. He moved away from you for a second, completely ridding himself of his boxers and then he started rummaging around in his nightstand drawer for a condom. 

Before this moment— Steve seconds away from being inside of you— things felt unreal and in some ways a little funny because of how surreal it all was, but now it didn’t feel that way at all. He was the one person that knew almost everything about you and now you two were doing one of the few things that you actually didn’t know about each other. Surprisingly, that didn’t worry you in the slightest or make you feel scared, and maybe that said everything you needed it to. Things felt so real and so fucking right, and that made you smile. 

“What are you thinking about?” He asked as he settled back on top of you. 

“Nothing, really. I’m just so happy this is happening right now.” 

“Me too,” He whispered before softly kissing your lips. 

When he slowly entered you, every thought was wiped from your mind and all you could do was moan at the feeling of him filling you up so completely. 

It was soft and sweet and everything in between. Steve moved slowly, pulling his length out of your dripping core until only the tip of him was inside of you before gently pushing back in. 

He swallowed your moans and gasps with his lips, and you couldn’t help but close your eyes, savoring everything you were feeling at that moment, even though you wanted to hold his gaze. 

“I love you,” He muttered against your warm cheek in between deep thrusts. He linked his fingers with yours and brought your intertwined hands over your head. 

At first, all you could do was nod in response because your mind was so far gone, but then you were finding your voice and whispering the softest, “I love you too,” in the darkness of his bedroom. 

Coherent words became lost from there, but with every haphazard and messy kiss that was shared between you two, everything was still conveyed. 

The nearly pornographic sounds of skin slapping against skin along with your moans and his groans filled the quiet. You both were probably being way too loud, and maybe now was when your neighbors would start hating you two, but it was hard to feel bad about it right then. 

Steve’s other hand suddenly firmly grabbed your hip so that he could push into you deeper, harder, which nearly sent you tumbling over the edge. 

“I’m so close,” You heard yourself whispering, and you weren’t sure how the three words were even able to form on your tongue. 

Steve’s hand moved away from your hip and started playing with your clit instead. 

“Shit, yeah. Right there,” You said and he continued his steady movements, not letting up in the slightest. 

Your orgasm hit you so abruptly, and you were coming around him with a loud cry before you could even realize it. How tightly you were squeezing his cock as you came only spurred on his own release. His forehead dropped against yours as he pushed as deep as he could inside of you and spilled into the condom.

Chest against chest, you found his lips in a slow kiss as you both came down from your highs and your collective breathing returned somewhat to normal. 

The exhaustion from the day was finally catching up to you and you were close to falling asleep, eyes already falling shut, but Steve’s warmth leaving your body woke you up. He was slipping out of you with a low groan and then getting out of the bed to toss the condom in the garbage can that sat in the corner of his room. As he did that, you maneuvered around so that you were underneath the covers and he joined you. 

Limbs became tangled beneath the blanket; his arms circling your waist to hold you close, your arms around his back and tracing mindless circles on his skin, and legs entangled. It was comfortable and perfect, and you were about to fall asleep just like that, but then an idea hit you.

Your eyes were shut and your face was buried in his neck. “We need to go on a first date.” 

You felt Steve’s soft chuckle against the side of your head. “We’ve already said I love you and had sex. I think we’re far past the first date.”

“We have to do it,” You told him. “And we should make it super cheesy and dumb.” 

“Fancy restaurant?” Steve asked, deciding to go along with the idea.

“Yes. And a movie too! Preferably, a very, very bad romcom,” You smiled into his neck. “Or, wait, actually I think a horror movie is much more first date appropriate.”

“Ah, yes, so I can put an arm around you and protect you from all of the scary scenes.” 

“Yeah, exactly. Even though it will probably be me doing most of the protecting because I know how you get with scary movies,” You said, and then let out a laugh when he playfully poked your bare side. “Oh, and we should dress up really nice for it too. I expect to see you in a suit, Harrington.” 

“Okay, well, in that case, you have to wear your prom dress,” He joked back. 

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Okay, deal.” 

Steve held you tighter against him, pressing the softest kiss against your forehead, and you fell asleep to the feel of his steady breaths fanning against the tip of your ear. 

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

let me know ur thoughts<333

(requests are open for stuff you wanna see in the universe/series!🫶🏾)

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x fem!reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things imagine #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington series #stranger things angst #steve harrington angst #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington x y/n #stranger things fic #stranger things series

[icallhimjoey]

Define Close

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

Summary: What good are flatmates even, if they don't comfort you when you need it most? Or when you need it a normal amount? Or, you know, when you don't really need it, but just really want it?

CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, afab!reader, hurt/comfort i guess? idk we're sad a lot and joe cheers us up a lot, mentions of reader having hair long enough to be played with

Author’s note: last one! i hope this non-plot fic was all right! it doesnt feel like it fully counted as a five-part story just because it doesn't feel like anything really happened besides... you know, a lot of hugging. anyways. enjoy!

Wordcount: 3.9K

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

When Joe woke up the next morning, all promises he made to himself the night before had vanished. Like promises people made late at night in bed were wont to do.

I’ll start on Monday.

I’ll wake up early, do it in the morning.

Thing’s will be different when the sun rises.

They never were.

He didn’t know why he thought it would be different this time. Sure, he still thought it wasn’t exactly normal to wake up with his flatmate’s face pressed into his chest, but why would he risk doing anything that was going to change that?

You kept his bed warm. Satisfied his tactile nature. Filled something hollow within him which he didn’t realise was empty before. And in moments like these, he could tell it was spilling over. Making mess inside his chest.

Joe wanted to know why it never felt invasive.

He tried to think back how he got here.

Where it all began.

How it had evolved.

And why it never felt weird. Why you never needed to talk about any of it, words completely unnecessary. Why the only two words ever spoken about it, your wild and insane “Thank you.” felt like the most disgusting overkill of verbal communication Joe had ever experienced.

The two of you were just bad with words, he decided.

Joe felt how you stretched a leg, one that was still stuck between two of his, and carefully held you a little tighter until he felt you fully relax again.

Good.

You weren’t allowed to wake up yet.

Morning sun softly lit Joe’s room through the cracks in his curtains and, Joe knew it was a Sunday, but it also felt like a Sunday.

Nothing planned for the day. Hours of nothing that stretched out before him, time he got to fill with whatever felt right in the moment.

And right now, delaying waking up felt right.

He could pretend to ignore all the things that stirred inside. The questions. The uncertainties.

He could pretend to ignore the bodily reactions you were responsible for. He had done so for ages. Had gotten real good at pretending.

But he wondered if you knew.

If you felt the same stirring he felt.

If you could see it.

If you also sometimes blew off your friends, just to hang out at home. If you also wished the friends you had over would just fucking leave already when you’d feel drowsy after a big meal. If you also sometimes had a hard time falling back asleep after waking up at random hours, just because you had to deal with a lot of disappointment at being alone.

He shouldn’t ask for more.

He was getting plenty.

Right here. Right now.

Joe pulled a blanket of appreciation all the way over himself, and he felt full. Logically understood he wouldn’t have it forever, so he best really focus on the right here and the right now, and push any other thoughts aside.

He tried to focus on every part of your body that touched parts of his body until he located your heartbeat, and then focussed on that until he fell asleep again.

When he woke up about 45 minutes later, it was to your fingers lightly stroking his face that slowly tickled him awake.

You trailed a finger tip down his nose and when you pulled away, Joe tipped his head back a little, chasing your touch. It drew your eye to a little red patch underneath his chin.

“You’ve got a…” you started, voice barely there, throat full of sleep still. Joe felt how you scratched at his skin a little, and stuck his chin out more to help give you a better look.

“Does this hurt?” you asked all innocently before pressing a sharp nail into the soft flesh just past his jawline.

“Ow,” Joe cried, flinching away into his pillow more, immediately far more awake than he wanted to be. “Jesus Christ, good morning, what the...” Joe huffed a laugh, and you hid your face into his armpit to hide your own smile.

Just for a second.

When you moved your head back onto his chest, Joe rubbed at where you poked him.

“You’ve got an ingrown hair,” you used a finger to move his aside and pulled the skin taught for a better look. Joe’s hand moved to hold you by the wrist, making sure he could pull you away the second you’d try some of that bullshit again.

But instead, you took hold of his chin and moved his head to the side, inspecting the whole area closely.

Your intense attention made Joe grow shy, and you saw how a blush crept up his neck from up close. He tried to brave through, tried his best to not tuck his chin in and trap your fingers there.

But then you did it for him, moved his face by the chin and let your eyes trail up his jaw, over his sideburns and up into his hair.

Joe felt a little timid, not sure if he was mentally even fully awake yet, face heating up under your soft gaze.

He realised you’d never done this before. Usually, when you’d wake up next to each other, you’d blink your bleary eyes, have a look around his bedroom and get up and out. Leave his room without another word shared. Leave him alone, all by himself. This was the first time you’d stayed in his bed a little longer. Lazed around and woke up slow.

It was nice.

Your chin pressed into his chest felt nice.

The weight of your thigh that rested over his hip felt nice.

All this innocent soft attention in your shared warmth felt nice.

“Hmm, you’re so warm,” Joe whispered, because you were, and it felt nice.

It was all so nice.

Your eyes roaming his features was maybe a bit much, seeing as you were quite literally able to count his pores, you were so close.

But it was still nice.

You’d created this bubble of blissful contentment together and Joe let himself drown into the right here and right now of it all.

Joe loved it in the bubble.

Would trap you in this bubble with him forever, if he could.

But his cheeks were blushing so hard, and he stared up at the ceiling in hopes of making it stop. In your next move, you let go of his chin and raised a hand up to his hair where three fingers disappeared into his hairline for a second.

Just for a literal second, though.

“You need to wash your hair.” you said dryly and moved to sit up.

Joe groaned a little.

You’d popped the bubble.

Just like that.

It was like reality got shoved right into his face as you sat up and he almost went and pulled right back in. Right back into his chest, into that bubble, where everything sparkled, and tingled, and went fuzzy around the edges.

But alas. You were already gone.

When you later met in your living area, everything was sort of back to normal. All casual. Like you hadn’t just spent another night wrapped up in bed together, parts of bodies close to other parts of bodies that they had no right being so close to.

You were flatmates, for fuck’s sake.

And sure, you were a different kind of flatmate to each other than your average run-of-the-mill flatmate. But still, how were you only just flatmates to each other still?

No lingering awkwardness.

Never an embarrassing moment.

Just a, “We’re out of dishwasher tablets,” as you grabbed the last one and showed him the empty cardboard box.

Followed by a, “Do you want some coffee?” and a neutral face thrown his way.

Like you were talking to your mum.

“Yea,” Joe answered, and tried showing as much indifference as he could in return. “Coffee sounds lovely.”

And that was that. Once again. Just flatmates.

Joe pretended all was fine. Pretended it was fine how you never talked about any of it.

He didn’t really have the right to complain, he thought. Because he still got to reach hands across and squeeze your arm in thanks when you passed him a drink, and you weren’t weirded out by that.

He still got to sometimes come home and see your charming little pouty face and know he’d get to hug you all night long, and you didn’t deny him the snuggles.

And still, if it got really bad, you’d cry and he’d find you and comfort you until you stopped crying, and then he’d make a stupid joke and you’d laugh and, are you fucking joking, he’d be left on cloud nine for a days.

To be able to get you from tears into giggles with just a couple of wrapping arms, and stroking hands, and silly comments?

Did you even know what that did to him?

Joe thought he’d gotten a weird sort of sixth sense for it now. He could snuff out your mood just from the sounds of how you’d walk in after work. Knew exactly what the evening was going to look like from the way that you were breathing. Could sniff it out like a bloodhound, he was that tuned in.

Unhealthy?

Maybe.

But he loved it too much to really do anything about it.

Even when you started pulling away a little again, like you’d done before. Would walk in sort of happy and pleased and would just make yourself a large salad for dinner before you’d go for a quick drink with friends.

It sent him down that same fucking spiral.

Why was he upset his flatmate was no longer upset so often?

How in the world was he even going to begin to unpack that?

Joe didn’t want to admit to anything, because you didn’t talk about anything, but it affected him plenty. He still got to squeeze your shoulder, and poke you in the side, and sometimes massage a socked foot when you did end up on the sofa together, but... fuck it. Joe wanted your body pressed all up against his, every night, and if he had it his way, not just on the sofa but then also in his bed right after.

He let it build.

He let it build up far too high until, one strange afternoon, it all tumbled down.

He’d been moping around since earlier that morning. Had to get some work done but just grew more and more annoyed and he didn’t really know how to articulate what it was. Was it you? Or was it him? Or was it something else entirely, and was this just easier to be upset with because it was on his mind so often?

He kind of didn’t even want to figure it out.

Just wanted to be annoyed.

And then you’d walked in, and he could hear. He frowned and listened and... yep. That sounded just about right.

Joe was stood in the kitchen when you stepped into the room and for a moment, you just looked at each other.

You expected things to go how they usually went when you walked in the way you’d just done.

If Joe was in, he’d find you and hold your face to make you look at how he empathetically mimicked your pout and knitted eyebrows before he hugged you tight and whispered all sorts of things about pizza toppings into your ear.

If Joe was in, he never even needed to take a proper look at you to know you’d needed tending to. Which is what he’d then always do.

He’d find you, and tend to you until you no longer needed tending to, and yet, now...

Now, he wasn’t really doing anything.

And you never talked.

But, then... now what?

Joe just looked at you, leant into his shoulders as his hands rested on the black shiny countertop of the island and seemed irritated.

Kind of angry.

This was new.

Different.

Needed different approach.

So...

“You all right?”

For a moment you thought that maybe Joe was mad with you, with the way his face read thunder as he took a moment to answer that question. Maybe you shouldn’t have asked.

But then he sighed, and his expression softened slightly before he shrugged and answered, “Define all right.”

“Cool, me neither. Come sit.”

For a split second, Joe thought, no. Let’s keep distance and talk for a change.

But before he even knew it, his legs were carrying him over to the sofa where you waited for him to sit down first, which he then simply just did.

Joe let himself fall back into the sofa and kept his arms slightly open, knowing you were likely going to drop down right next to him.

But you didn’t want to just let Joe hug you, this time.

Joe looked like he needed to be hugged himself just as much.

Maybe even more than you, you thought.

So instead, you climbed onto the sofa feet first, sat down next to him but faced into him, and draped both arms around his neck, pushing your cheek against his in a tight hug. Your knees dug into the back of the sofa a little uncomfortably, and it was like Joe could tell, because he shimmied a little until you both sighed and sagged into each other.

You felt Joe hug you back, arms around your waist and flat palms spread around your sides. It almost felt like his arms looped around you twice as he pulled you tightly into him.

It was wild how Joe could feel his bad mood drain from his body, and he wondered if this was how you always felt. If Joe’s embraces did the same to you.

You sat like that for a while, sometimes unsticking cheek from cheek to find a better bit of skin to press your face into.

You sat like that until Joe felt his annoyance make way for something else to shine through.

This would usually be the moment he’d make a joke. A little comment that would make you laugh, even if you didn’t want to and tried to hide it, but Joe could always feel how the muscles in your stomach tensed in his small moment of victory.

Not this time.

And it was silly, because you were waiting for it too.

For Joe to make light of something heavy. Because he was so good at making light of all things heavy.

But nothing really came.

You felt how Joe moved his face down and found the crook of your neck to bury his nose into. Maybe he was actually crying. You weren’t sure. But just in case, you used soothing fingers to swipe across his shoulders, across where they could reach, and you felt Joe’d head grow heavier as he relaxed more.

“Better?” you asked softly, and Joe just hummed in confirmation.

Something euphoric bubbled up inside you.

Success.

Then Joe moved his head up and you thought it was maybe to press it against the side of yours once again, but instead he got it right in front of yours and let your foreheads touch. Let your noses bump.

You weren’t sure what happened between the surge of elation and your noses touching, but suddenly, you kind of felt like crying again. Felt the dark mood you’d been in when you walked in a little earlier return.

But it didn’t feel like this moment was really about you, for once.

So you just... stayed there. Stayed put. Kept your eyes closed, and let your noses touch, and hoped that whatever you were doing was at least making Joe feel better.

“Is this helping?” you whispered, and Joe felt it against his mouth.

In turn, he sighed, and you felt that against yours before he answered, “Yea.”

His arms squeezed tighter and you tried thinking of a time where you’d been closer than this. If this counted as the closest you’d ever been.

And then you felt his nose run up along the side of yours before moving down the other side of it and, probably. This was probably the closest you’d ever been.

“Yea,” he said again, and then followed it up with, “You’re not going anywhere.”

The slightly higher pitch of his voice made Joe sound like he was crying. You checked, kind of had to check, and moved back slightly to have a look.

But he wasn’t crying. Seemed wildly wrecked in a different way. One slightly foreign to you. It made you furrow your brow in confusion, because, what did he mean, ‘you’re not going anywhere’?

You weren’t going anywhere.

You never did.

You shared a flat together and you were always there.

Joe saw how you tried to make sense of his words in real time, up close, and it made sense to him that you didn’t immediately get it. You never used actual words together. Of course this was going to take you a second. He understood. But still. It was fucking annoying that you didn’t.

Joe had to look away for a second, to stare at the wall on the other side of the room as he leant back into the sofa more, arms sliding down your back as he did.

With his head tilted back onto the backrest, he carefully started, “You know…” and then took another moment to think. Because, what did you know?

You waited, mostly because you were unsure of what else to do.

You and Joe didn’t talk. Didn’t ask questions. Just... you just were. Were how you were.

So you waited, and saw Joe’s eyes wander down to the collar of your top where he took one of the unbuttoned buttons in between his fingers to play with.

“I don’t think I can… I might not have the strength,”

Never talking also meant you’d not practiced listening. And Joe made listening difficult, because as he fidgeted with your collar, you couldn’t help your eyes from drifting to a bicep. You concluded his top was too tight around the arms, and let your eyes linger there, because it looked nice.

A flex of the muscle brought you back to him.

For a small moment, you made eye-contact and you realised you were too close.

“When are you going to… when will you see it?” Joe pressed, ducking his head to force eye-contact as you tried moving back a little. His voice remained soft, words almost cautious as they found your ears.

You didn’t really have a response.

“I’m not…” you began, thinking you’d find out what exactly you weren’t along the way, but you faltered.

You had no idea what you weren’t. Had no idea what to say.

“I’m not…” you tried again.

Still didn’t get any further. Not good with words, you thought to yourself. Why was Joe making you talk?

You never talked.

But Joe waited, just like you’d waited for him before. Gave you time to find the right way to articulate whatever was going on inside your mind.

And he shouldn’t have.

You suddenly inhaled sharply and created more distance between the two of you as you said, “I’m not really hungry.”

“I–... what?”

You got up from the sofa.

“If you want a pizza, you’re going to have to eat the whole thing yourself I’m afraid. I think we’ve got some– yea, there’s at least two in the freezer still,”

“But–...”

You were already on your way to show him.

“Tandoori chicken and, um, one with mushrooms, I think, I got them last week, unless you’ve already had them, they should be in there...”

Joe couldn’t fucking believe it.

You were... you were being awkward.

Being all weird.

Had he made things awkward and weird? By talking?

Surely, that couldn’t be the case.

He watched you nervously fight with a freezer drawer that didn’t seem to want to budge for a second, until it did, and you yanked it all the way out. Made it clatter against the tiles.

Oh, it was absolutely the case.

“Fuck– sorry,” you near-violently shoved it back into its slot, and the sound of plastic sliding across ice made his skin crawl.

“Hey,” Joe was already up on his feet.

“Yea, see? Chicken and garlic mushroom, you can have–”

“Hey, hey, stop.” Joe rounded the island, got you by the arms and turned you away from the freezer.

“If you want–”

“I said, stop.”

You then did stop. Let Joe close the freezer door as you closed your eyes and exhaled through flared nostrils.

Joe studied your face, confused and worried by what the fuck had just happened. How you’d gone from lovingly embracing each other on the sofa until you’d both left each other’s shapes across your fronts like you were memory foam, to suddenly this weird, embarrassing, panicky state in the kitchen.

Words.

“It’s okay if you don’t–” Joe started, wanting to tell you it was fine if you didn’t want to talk, but this time you cut him off. Said, “Joe, please,” in a wobbly voice, because you did want what Joe meant earlier. You did see it. Did want that.

But you were flatmates.

Joe moved his hands and cupped your face.

It made you open your eyes and you immediately wished you hadn’t.

His eyes were so fucking expressive, they kind of bore all.

It was weird to want to look away just as much as you wanted to keep this connection with him, and you moved your hands to hold onto his wrists so that, even if you did end up looking away, he at least wouldn’t let go of you.

You watched his eyes flick between yours before they flicked down at your mouth.

It made you do the same, and, shit.

No.

You were flatmates.

But then Joe leant a little closer, and you didn’t move away. Did the opposite in fact.

Joe let your foreheads touch once more, and allowed the two of you to be close again.

You were the worst at talking.

Never talked.

But, fuck, you were so good at being close.

Joe knew that he was going to have to let everything else do the talking. Like it had always done, up until now. He just... he needed to articulate a little clearer, that was all.

You lifted your chin slightly, just enough to nuzzle. To press your nose against his and for a brief moment, you moved like you were kissing, but your lips didn’t touch.

“Joe,” you breathed, sounding unsure, and Joe stilled for a second. “We’re flatmates.”

And God, if that same exact thought hadn’t kept him from ever moving past where you were right this second.

“Yea,” he agreed in a whisper.

You were flatmates.

But then you let a hand move up to his neck, and Joe copied the move. Got you by the base of the skull and tested to see if he could guide you to tip your head the way he wanted it to tip.

You easily let him.

Lips brushed. Only briefly. No one flinched or moved back, and Joe hovered right in front until he felt your fingers pull him closer.

“But we’re close.”

the end

---

The Taglisted

@ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @bylermaxmayfield, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma77645, @emotionaldreamer, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @hanahkatexo, @harringtonfan4, @hazelenys, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @manda-panda-monium, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @miserybeans, @munson-mjstan, @nadixq, @nglharry, @notverywise, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @royale1803, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @songforeddiemunson, @sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @witchwolflea, @yelyahcardella, @yunirgo

taglist currently full, sorry

#Joseph Quinn #Joe Quinn x You #Joseph Quinn x You #Joe Quinn x Reader #Joseph Quinn x Reader #Joe Quinn Fanfic #Joe Quinn fanfiction #Joseph Quinn Fanfic #Joseph Quinn Fanfiction #joe quinn x y/n #joseph quinn x y/n #icallhimjoey #define close

[strawberryspence]

There's something so special with the way Eddie kisses Steve. He thinks no one has ever kissed him this way, never had anyone handle him with so much tenderness and affection.

Steve loves it when Eddie kisses him on the lips. He thinks Eddie might actually be using drugs on him because there is no way in hell its normal how much he craves for it. Eddie does it in the quiet of the night, in the backroom of Family Video, in the car before they go home. Eddie's the best kiss Steve's ever had, from the first to the latest. Wether it's a random peck or make out, they click together in ways Steve never even thought was possible.

Steve loves it when Eddie kisses him on the cheeks. Eddie does it front of Hop or Wayne, when it's not really appropriate for them to kiss in front of their parental figures. He does it in front of Dustin and the kids, to elicit some kind of disgusted reaction. But Steve knows the truth, can see Will smiling at the corner, hiding behind his DM screen and thinks and thanks whatever deity that Eddie Munson came into their lives.

Steve loves it when Eddie kisses his hand. Eddie does it when he's driving, holding up their intertwined hand to give it a kiss, lips grinning as he drives. He does it in his dramatic entrances, kneeling in one knee in front of Steve and asking for the Prince's hand before kissing the back of his hand like he's an actual royalty. It's the first time Steve doesn't recoil to being called a royalty. It heals Steve and helps him forgive himself.

Steve's favorite kind of kiss, he'll never tell Eddie. It first happens on a Monday night. Eddie took a few shifts on the plant where Wayne was working, just for a few weeks as he waits for his other job applications.

Eddie makes him promise not to wait for him, and to go to sleep. Steve's stubborn as ever, waiting for his boyfriend to come home. But he did promise, so he pretends to be asleep when Eddie finally comes home.

Eddie kisses him on the forehead, soft and tender and warm and everything sweet.

"I love you, sweetheart." Eddie whispers, his voice brimming with weariness, but Steve knows him well enough that he can hear the smile on his face.

He tucks himself beside Steve, slotting with each other in a way that makes Steve question if there's an actual God and if they made Eddie Munson just for him.

Eddie will do it again and again and again every night. He will sweep Steve's hair off his face, kiss him on the forehead, and tell him that Eddie loves him.

There was a time where Steve wasn't truly sure if Eddie loved him, wasn't sure if anyone would ever truly love him, but with every kiss, Eddie has proved over and over and over again that he loves Steve for Steve.

And for once in his life, he believes it.

(for @thefreakandthehair. happy birthday, my lovely friend! i hope you had cake and had the best day. i love you and i am so glad you were born! ♥️)

#<33333 #me in the back #KISS KISS KISS #steddie rants #steddie ficlet #steddie headcanons #steddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #dae writes #daeheadcanons #steddie hc #steddie fic #thefreakandthehair

[strbymacaroon]

Silent Love: Ch. 4 - Project Week

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: Fake Dinner Date W/Feels

Chapter One: New Roommate(s)

Master-List: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 26,621 ... (Sorry for how long it is..)

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 20th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Monday

(Day 1)

You weren’t necessarily dreading this moment, but you aren’t looking forward to it. After the dinner with Sukuna–if you can call it that–the two of you haven’t really interacted. Which is the exact opposite of what you thought was going to happen. You thought you two were going to get along just fine, but no, things are just back to being silent between you two. 

Now, you have to follow him around like a lost puppy. 

You grab the small notebook you specifically bought for this occasion yesterday, and push yourself off bed. A part of you feels a bit underprepared–despite staying up all night setting your notebook up for this week–should you be explaining what you’re going to be doing to Sukuna? Or, should you just wing it and see what happens. 

Still, you’re quick you change into something cute. A mini-skirt, black sheer tights, and some leg warmers. Along with a black off the shoulder long-sleeve, and the necklace from dinner. You are quick to grab a nice jacket from your closet, before leaving the room. 

The first thing you write in your journal is the time, ‘10:05AM,’ right under the morning slot. You're unsure when Sukuna wakes up, or eats for breakfast, or when he leaves the house. 

Yuuji loudly yawns behind you, slinging his arm around your shoulder. “How’d the date go?”

You lean into his shoulder, “Don’t tell Sukuna, but your grandpa totally didn’t believe us.” The two of you walk into the kitchen, “But, he did say he wants to see me again, so that can be a good thing.”

Yuuji nods, leaning his head on your shoulder, “I agree, maybe I’ll bring you over to spend Christmas with us.” He pulls away from you, opening the refrigerator, “Sounds like Pops might enjoy that, maybe Sukuna will, too.” He whispers. 

You roll your eyes at that, “Right.” You poke Yuuji’s back, smiling as you say, “Are you sure you’re not asking me to be your fake girlfriend for Christmas?” You loudly gasp, “Oh my god! What if this is how I bring your family closer together?!”

Yuuji laughs at that, wrinkling his nose while sticking out his tongue, “Gross, community girlfriend is not something I think I’d want to share with the family.” He grabs some milk, “Actually, what is Sukuna doing for you? I don’t think you ever told me?” 

You lean back on a counter, pressing your lips together. “Remember how we were talking about how Nobara and I have a project?” Yuuji nods, “Well, I asked him to be the person I study.” 

“And he agreed?!” 

You laugh at that, “Babe, he had to.” Still, you’re dreading doing it. It would’ve been nice if Sukuna at least acknowledged you yesterday, then again, the two of you practically spent the whole day together on Saturday, so you can’t really complain. 

Ugh, emotions are so weird, why can’t you be normal?

“Don’t the two of you have school?” Sukuna comments, walking into the kitchen. He makes his way to the cupboards and grabs a water bottle. You also notice he grabs pre-work out, throwing some scoops into his cup. 

You write what brand and amount he uses. Suddenly, this project makes you feel really weird, like a stalker. You move to his side, “So, as I explained earlier, I just need to follow you around. And–” 

“Practice starts at four at the football stadium.” Sukuna cuts you off, “Get there, watch me practice, and I’ll answer whatever questions you have for me on the way back home.” Just like that, he’s gone. Back in his room to leave you and Yuuji in silence. 

You click your pen closed, leaning on the counter while sighing. Yuuji follows your motions, minus the pen. You laugh at yourself, turning your face to look at him, “I don’t think I’m going to pass this assignment.” 

—-

Nobara is quick to agree with you, “Oh, no yeah, babe, you’re not passing. There’s no way you’re passing.” She took a bite of her sandwich, “I asked Maki what her project looks like, to see if mine was right, and…” She sighs, shaking her head, “Needless to say, I’m restarting mine. I need way more information than I thought for the writing section.” 

You place your head down on the table, “I’m at such a disadvantage. I don’t know anyone, and the one person I have is literally the worst option ever.” You perk your head up to look at her with your body still slumped over the table, “I literally have club meetings every Mondays and Wednesdays, too. The odds are against me.” 

“Wait, how did you get Sukuna to agree? The dude gives off major serial killer vibes. Maybe even a bit of bi-polarness.” Nobara asks, pushing your hair from your face. “Don’t tell me you seduced him, you minx.” She teases. 

You laugh a bit at that, shaking your head, “Getting dicked down by that man would be a blessing from god, alone.” 

Nobara wiggles her eyebrows, “Oh-ho-ho, don’t tell me you got a thing for the hottie.” She leans closer to you. 

You scoff, “As if. Babe, me and you both know I don’t have to like the person I’m fucking.” You tell her, reaching your hand over the table and stealing a chip from her. “And with Sukuna, might as well call it hate-fucking.” 

Nobara looks away while biting her food, whispering, “As if you’re fucking people.” 

“Nobara.”

“Don’t get mad at me for speaking the truth, babe.” Nobara points an accusing finger at you, “If you want, I can always give you some tips on how to suck dick like a pro.” She seems a bit cocky when saying that, taking another bite of her food. 

You roll your eyes, but still tell her, “Text me about it.” You pause for a second, “Don’t tell Sukuna that though, we totally hate each other right now.” You push yourself up, stretching a bit, “It’s really weird.” 

Nobara blinks, “Sounds like the start of a porno. Two hot teens hate each other.” She smiles, wiggling her shoulder, “Sounds like you may get your wish.” 

You cringe at that, “Teens? Gross. Okay, but no, here’s the thing. It sounds like something I want to do, and I want to do it, but when I think about it for too long, I don’t want to.” You’re a bit desperate when you say, “I mean, you get it, right?” 

Nobara nods with conviction, “No, yeah. I totally get it. Is he cocky about it?” She asks seriously, as if the discussion at hand were about a math equation, “Like, does he know you wanna fuck him? And he lets you know, he knows, you want to fuck him.” 

Your eyes widen as you point at her, “Yes! That’s it.” Your hands flex a bit, and you're imagining Sukuna’s throat there. “It's so infuriating, I just want to die when I see his stupid asshole smirk when he knows I think he’s hot. But, I hate him so much.” 

Nobara nods, listening to you, really listening to you. She gets it, man. 

“Hates a strong word, but still. He’s just self conceited, which is kinda’ hot, but in a toxic–your parents scolding you not to date this guy in highschool, way.” You rub the temple of your nose, “Ugh, I feel stupid. This guys makes me feel so ‘effin stupid.”

Nobara smiles, “Sounds like you have a crush.” 

“Ugh, on that asshole? Hell no.” You look to the side, biting the side of your lip, “But, I do like him… a tiny bit. Asshole and all. He’s got a heart, somewhere…” Maybe talking to Sukana’s grandpa influenced your feelings about him, who knew the perfect wingman would be your grandpa. 

“What are you guys talking about?” Yuuji asks, sitting next to you. 

Nobara is quick to say, “Your asshole brother.” She’s smiling when adding, “And how hot she thinks he is.” 

“You mean, how much of an asshole I think he is.” You correct, looking at Yuuji with an eye roll, “Don’t listen to Nobara, she’s just a backstabber. Nothing but a New York rat.” 

“This is weird, let’s stop talking about it.” Yuuji says, looking at the food he just bought, some Chick-fil-A. “I don’t like talking about my brother, he’s so–” 

“Hot?” Nobara interrupts with a cheeky smile, clearing messing with Yuuji. “We know, babe, we know. But, you can admit that, right? That your brother is totally hot as shit?” She’s practically drinking up his uncomfortable expression. 

“Okay, I’m done with this conversation. You two can eat alone.” Yuuji says, moving away from the table.

You look at him, a pleading look in your eyes as you extend your hands and shout, “Wait, no Yuuji!” 

Yuuji’s quick to turn around at your voice, placing a touched hand over his head, your name slips his lips like a prayer. “Yes, tell me, tell me. What is wrong?” 

You pause there for a moment, pressing your lips together, your point at the Chick-fil-A, “Can you give me a fry?” He continues to walk away, you laugh at this and shout, “I’m sorry, Yuuji, I’m joking, I swear!”

But Yuuji still walks away. 

You and Nobara laugh, finishing up your meals and dispersing the plaza. “Got anything to do today?” Nobara asks, looking at the time on her phone. 

“Club, then I got to go watch Sukuna practice.” You sigh, hugging your torso. “He gave me the decency to watch him practice, then he’s going to answer all my questions on the drive home.” You roll your eyes, “Which, I’m guessing, can work, but if you have to be as detailed as your telling me, I don’t think it is.” 

Nobara slings an arm over your shoulder, “I’m sure you’re going to figure it out, babe, I wouldn’t worry too much.” She finally pulls away, “You go have fun doing that, I’ll see you soon.” 

You pass her a weak smile, “Yeah, I’ll see you soon.” 

—

Who would’ve thought, sitting on the hot turf, the wind tangling your hair, watching men you don’t know, wouldn’t be fun. You haven’t even seen Sukuna yet, a part of you wonders if he’s even here, but you don’t have the heart to actually go looking for him. 

Still, you can’t help but watch everyone. Football’s never been your forte, you’ve never been a sports person, hence why you did colorguard back in high school, but you still enjoyed the football games you had to attend with the band. It was never boring, and your high school had a good football team which you liked watching. So, you weren’t completely oblivious to the sport. 

Even now, watching the football boys play, you’re not terribly bored. Maybe, you’re bored, but you’re not dying from it. Still, you can’t help but feel a bit self conscious under these men’s gazes, when they try to discreetly point at you, or whisper to their friend something in your direction. 

They could be talking about something as completely mundan as the weather, but you’re in a different environment, and feel incredibly out of place. So, in a way, every little thing has to be about you right now. It may be a bit self centering, but hey, mental insecurity can do that to you. 

“Brat.” Sukuna calls behind you, dropping his bag at your side. “Hold onto this, I’m leaving after practice is over.” He doesn’t want to stay to hear the questions about who you are, or anything else his teammates have to ask, he doesn’t have the fucking energy right now. 

You go to ask him a question, but the sentence never gets asked. You pause the moment your eyes land on him. Okay… fine, football guys are pretty hot. The helmet over his head, you can see a peak of eye black, and his practice uniform fits him so well. Especially around his arms. 

They look so nice and big…

Sukuna raises an eyebrow, a cocky smile pulling at his lips. “You done starin’, doll?” He passes you a hair tie, to which you immediately pull your hair into a low ponytail.  

You narrow your eyes at him, shaming your head, “Wasn’t staring.” You look at the field, “I thought you were on the field an hour ago? Where were you before this?” You can feel how tangled your hair is, it feels really gross. 

Sukuna would ask, why do you want to know, but the moment he sees you pull out a journal titled ‘Project,’ from your bag, he has his answers. “Working out. Warming up,” He waves it off, “Whatever the fuck you want to call it, I do it for an hour before actual practice.” 

You want to ask more about that; What did you focus on? Did you have more protein shakes? What about pre-pump? Did you eat something healthy before? Have you eaten today? What time did you leave the house? What are your classes? What’s your schedule? But, Sukuna’s already on the field before you can start to ask one of them. 

You sigh, just writing vaguely under the afternoon bracket, ‘Workout, and practice.’ Which makes your stomach turn, it’s already half an hour past five, and you only have three things written down. Six including the time bracks you made the night before. 

You want to die. This is going to be the longest week ever. 

You’re quick to sling Sukuna’s bag over your shoulder when you notice the team huddling together, but you don’t stay to watch them disperse. You’re walking to the exit of the stadium, if you remember correctly, you saw Sukuna’s car this way when entering. 

“You were quick to leave.” Sukuna says a good distance behind you, “Reach into the pocket of my bag, my keys are there.” You do as he says, unlock the car for the both of you. Even when you’re both situated in his car, he’s still asking demands of you, “Ask me what you need to know.” 

You decide to break the day into hours, writing the respective time under the right evening bracket. “Okay, uhm, what did you eat for breakfast? If you also know the calorie amount, that would be nice.” You’re facing him, your notebook in your lap. 

Sukuna doesn’t respond just yet, he just removes his helmet and fixes his hair. Messy and sweaty, yet oddly attractive. You’re about to repeat your question, when he shoves the helmet on your head. You flinch, feeling his sweat cumulate in your hair. You wrinkle your nose, “Gross…” 

Sukuna finally turns on the car, “Open my phone, I have an app where I keep track of what I eat.” He thinks for a bit, “I also have a workout app that can help you.” When you grab his phone, he tells you, “The passcode is…” Sukuna pauses. 

You blink, phone in hand, you can’t help but notice how heavy it is. “Yeah?” 

Sukuna doesn’t take his eyes off the road when saying, “It’s zero three, twenty, zero four.” 

“Is it your girlfriend’s birthday?” You tease. Sukuna’s phone unlocks, and you try looking for these apps, and when you do, you write the little information it gives you. 

“It’s Yuuji’s.” 

You thought the two of them didn’t get along, but he has Yuuji’s birthday as his password. Hm. “That’s sweet.” You blink at the time bracket for twelve, “Says you didn’t eat anything at twelve, did you not have lunch?” 

“No, I did.” Sukuna shrugs, “Looks like I forgot to fill it out.” 

You softly groan at that, “Well, what did you eat?” 

“I don’t fuckin’ remember.” 

You slap the notebook against your forehead, or… what would be your forehead if his helmet wasn’t in the way. “Oh my god.” You pull the notebook down, “This isn’t going to work. I don’t even know your schedule, and I’m supposed to be taking pictures of you, too.” 

Gojo is known for his strict grading. The way he’s able to pick up on small details within your work is uncanny. Once, he gave a student a zero on their assignment due to one sentence being written with AI. His eyes see all, there’s no cheating in his class. Sometimes you’re dying over turning in some of your work, knowing that you copied an idea from Nobara. Even if you’ve reworded it five times in your head, and two times on paper. 

Gojo is just… that good. Unfortunately. 

That’s why he is the best professor on campus. 

“Just let me follow you around.” You lean back in your chair, notebook in your lap. “I mean, that’s literally what we agreed to. Now, you want to start changing things up?” You look outside, forehead against the window. 

“This is easier.” Sukuna says, opening the garage with a remote attached to his vanity mirror. “For both of us.” 

You gawk at this, “Sukuna, this project isn’t supposed to be easy. For any of us. I’m supposed to be working hard, it literally says in the packet.” You rub your eyes stressed, “Not even that, but you’re not making this easy for me. This is easy for you.” 

Once he parks the car, you’re quick to exist, removing the helmet and tossing it in his car. “Can you at least let me do this correctly? I need to be following you around to at least get a good grade.” You watch as Sukuna locks his face, walking to the door. “I won’t even record you, I’ll just take pictures.” 

“I didn't know you needed to record me.” Sukuna says, a bit weirdly, too. 

You shrug, “I didn’t either until I checked the packet again.” The equivalent to a college grade-drop jump scare. “To be honest, I think it’s Gojo being really weird and wanting to be nosey about our lives.” 

“Gojo?” He says with a scowl, “Fuckin’ hated his class, and him too. The cocky, white-haired ass can go die.” 

You smile a bit, “You’re really creative with your nicknames, you know?” You follow after him. “You hate Gojo?” 

Sukuna’s answer is quick, “Yeah.” 

Once the two of you enter the house, Sukuna tells you, “Okay, fine. I’ll take pictures of myself throughout the day, and remember to write everything.” He rolls his eyes at you, “Does that make your prissy-ass happy?” 

You bite the inside of your cheek, “Not really.” Sukuna passes you a quick glance. He can’t help but notice you’re smiling, a bit too giddy for his liking. “But, you can’t escape me when we’re home.” 

Sukuna turns away from you, “Stop doing that shit, it’s creepy.” 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 21th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Tuesday

(Day 2)

Tuesday is much like Monday, boring and anxiety inducing. As the time passes, and your notebook stays untouched, you feel uneasy. You’re supposed to have so much more information than this. Although, you did manage to write more information yesterday, which gives you a small sense of security. 

You have your shoes tucked under your bag, while your feet are playing in the warm turf. You’re wearing sheer tights again, but took off your socks to really soak in the heat the turf absorbs. You can even see your white painted toenails wiggling in the fake grass. Who knew it would be this relaxing?

Sukuna passes you his keys and phone, this time sitting down next to you on the field. You blink at him, tucking your phone into your pocket. “Are we not leaving straight after?” 

Sukuna leans back on the palms of his hands, “Can’t, left some shit in my locker.” He rolls his eyes at this, “Might as well just change here.” 

You smile at that, unlocking his phone and opening the apps from yesterday. “At least you won’t feel sweaty.” You start writing the information down, but aren’t completely satisfied. “I appreciate you putting in more information, but…” You flip the phone to him, “Meal from Waba Grill isn’t specific enough. How can you even track your calories like this?” 

“Aren’t they all the same?” Sukuna says, letting his head fall back. 

“Definitely not.” You focus your eyes on his body, “You know, for a student athlete, you’re really bad at keeping track of your health. Like? Isn’t that your job?” You giggle a bit, exiting the app, “Did you at least take pictures?” 

“Yeah.” Sukuna perks up at this, although he’s giving you a cocky smirk. “Take a look.” 

“Don’t look at me like that.” You open his photos app, squinting your eyes at the screen with caution. “I swear, if I find any of your sex tapes I’m actually going to kill myself.” 

“Ha. Stop fuckin’ around.” Sukuna sarcastically quips at you, “I’m not like that.” You give him a look. Sukuna shakes his head at you, “Not anymore.” He’s still looking at you, almost as if he wants to see your reaction to the photos he took. 

That’s cute. 

You open Sukuna’s recently taken, and immediately pause. 

No, not cute. 

You look at Sukuna, then his pictures, then back to Sukuna again, “Babe, you know damn well…” You begin, licking your teeth with annoyance.  

“Like it when you call me that.” Sukuna leans over, tilting his head to look at the screen. “What? You don’t like them? Took them thinking of you, doll.” All the pictures are of Sukuna at the gym. That’s the best way to describe them too, gym selfies. Except, all of them are insanely clad, with him either lifting his shirt with his mouth, or completely shirtless altogether. 

You give him an annoyed look, “I can’t use any of these.” You throw his phone at his chest, rolling your eyes, “The only people who would like these are the loney-ass girls on Tik Tok imagining any hot guy as their boyfriend.” 

“Oddly specific.” 

“For you.” You flip back, laying down on the turf, “When I meant pictures, I mean of you eating your food, or working out. Not you being a thirst trap.” You laugh, looking at Sukuna while he gives you his gaze, “Unless, you think Gojo might like that.” 

“Weird blue-eyed freak.” 

Someone calls, “Sukuna. Get on the field.” Sukuna’s quick to get up, not bothering to wish you a goodbye before he’s practicing.  

You shake your head, writing down all that you can. Not before discreetly going through his pictures again, the idea that he took them specifically for you swirling in your head. You can’t help but feel your face burn, while butterflies swarm your stomach. 

—-

You slip on your shoes, tapping them on the ground to make sure they’re secured to your feet. You’re quick to call Sukuna while he’s entering the stadium, presumably to the locker room. “I’m going to wait in your car.” He just passes you an acknowledging glance, one that makes you turn to the exit of the field. 

Someone is quick to sling an arm over Sukuna’s shoulder, which is immediately met with Sukuna pushing him off him. “Don’t fucking touch me.” 

“Awh! Don’t be like that, I’m just trying to be friendly.” A blue haired man cooed at Sukuna, following closely behind him. 

“He’s just trying to get answers.” A bored voice says, an obnoxious yawn following it. “He’s just interested in the girl who’s watching us.” He gives Sukuna a lazy smirk, clearly amused by Mahito’s antics. 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows at this, turning to Mahito, “The fuck does Choso mean by that?” He’s scowling at him, his annoyance growing when Mahito doesn’t respond. “Don’t tell me he’s being a fucking weirdo.” 

Choso shrugs again, opening his locker. 

“Who’s the girl?” Mahito opens his locker, keeping an eye on Sukuna’s reaction, or for any reaction. He can’t help but smile when he sees Sukuna freeze for a moment, a split second, but more than enough time for Mahito to bask in it. 

That’s the first time he ever saw Sukuna so much as blink at his antics. Sukuna opens his locker, “Little brother’s friend. She’s a sophomore.” He grabs his clothes from the day before. 

Mahito’s smiling, jumping in excitement, “Oh, a young one, those are always fun.” He pokes his head behind Sukuna’s locker door, “You should let me play with her.” Mahito teases, “Just for a day at least, maybe even a week. That’s enough time to break her soul, right?” 

Choso can’t help but look at Sukuna, finding his silence a bit more concerning compared to normal. Although, he seems normal, picking at the ends of shirt and lifting it over his head. So, he quickly added, “Yeah, at least tell us her Instagram, or introduce us.” He’s also a bit interested in you, albeit, it’s not for the reason Mahito is. 

Mahito likes you purely because you’re close to Sukuna, closer than anyone’s ever been to Sukuna, in fact. Well, except for one exception. So, that alone makes you more interesting. He wants to know what makes you so special to calm the angry Sukuna. 

Mahito smiles widely, laughing as he sits on the bench, “See, even Choso is interested in her. Besides, adding a cute face to my collection of photos can be a nice change.” Mahito is quick to grab his phone, opening his camera roll and flipping it to Sukuna. “C’mon, I know you want to see her choking on a cock, maybe even crying over it.” A video plays, one a familiar woman Sukuna saw hanging out with Mahito not too long ago. 

Sukuna scowls at him, pushing the phone out of his sight. “Get that shit the fuck out of my face.” He pushes his hair back, “She’s my little brother’s friend, that shit’s fuckin’ disgusting.” 

Mahito rolls his eyes, “Oh, and you’re acting like you’re not?” He places his elbows on his knees, holding his face with his hands. “You’re telling me right now, you haven’t thought about fucking her?” 

“Of course not, I’m not a piece of shit like you.” Sukuna barks at him, finally snapping. 

Mahito leans back, “Touchy, touchy, touchy. Who knew this girl sparked so much emotion within you?” He tilts his head to the side, pulling himself to Sukuna’s face, “Don’t tell me you actually care about this girl, Sukuna?” 

Sukuna ignored Mahito, collecting his things in his bag, shoving them with so much vigor and force. Choso can’t help but notice this, an unsure look passing through his eyes. “Uh, Mahito, honestly—“ 

“Tell me, what did she do that made you so whipped?” Mahito leans in closer, “Does she know how to suck your dick? What about her pussy? Does it taste like something sweet, your favorite dessert, maybe? Or her tits?” He smiles sadistically, “‘Cause I promise you, I was distracted the whole practice staring at them. The things I’d do to defile her—“

Sukuna’s hands are shaking, his knuckles turning white around Mahito’s face. Mahito coughs, but it’s muffled by Sukuna’s palm, his fingers digging into his cheek. Mahito’s head aches in so much unbearable pain, his ears are practically ringing. Mahito grips his wrist, hard. 

Sukuna’s breathing is ragged, unstable as his eyes hold the fury of generations. HIs hands are literally shaking around his face, shaking with so much fucking anger.“You say something about her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.” He seethes. 

Mahito laughs, only to be met with another head slam into the lockers, the bang echoing through the room in a nasty sound. “No… you won’t. You won’t even touch me.” His eyes pear with tears, but the wrinkles that surround them wouldn't indicate any pain. If anything, it looks as if Mahito is thoroughly enjoying this. 

“You’re right.” He shoves his head into the locker one more time, letting Mahito’s body slide down to the floor, “I’ll ruin your life, inform the dean about the little “hobby” you like to keep track of with your phone.” Sukuna kicks Mahito’s phone, “Let’s see who’ll be laughing when they find all the videos of the girls you’ve recorded.” 

Choso snickers at that, hitting the back of Sukuna’s chest with a soft pat. Almost approving in a way. “Don’t worry, I’ll clean him up.” Mahito’s still laughing, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. “Hopefully that head slam will turn him back to normal.” 

Sukuna doesn’t care, just closes his locker with a slam and leaves the room. He’s quick to walk to his car—for no particular reason—only to notice you’re waiting outside. He narrows his eyes at you, “Why didn’t you wait in the car?” 

You push yourself off the door, throwing the keys at him, “I felt weird waiting in your car alone.” You turn away from Sukuna, whispering, “Besides, I didn’t want to burn up in your car.” 

Sukuna unlocks his car, “Then you should’ve turned on the AC.” He takes a moment to undress your question, “And it’s winter, smartass.”

You enter the car, lightly closing the door behind you, “That would’ve killed your gas.” You turn to the window, covering your mouth with your palm as you add, “I also have no clue how to turn on your car.” 

Sukuna turns to look at you, “You did not just fuckin’ say that.” He huffs a bit, it’s a show between shock and amusement. “How stupid are you?” 

“Sukuna, I’m smarter than you, you’re saying more about you than about me.” You shiver a bit, finding yourself growing cold. “Besides, you have one of those expensive cars, the one where you have to push to start it.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “Whatever. Sounds like someone’s just—“ 

“Just turn on the damn car, I’m starting to freeze here.” You say, leaning over the center console and watching, “Just show me how you turn on the car, please.” You hug yourself, shivering. 

Sukuna eyes how you lean over, and instantly his mind wanders to something more–”Uh, just hold the gas while pressing the button.” He does such, and the engine roars to life. He flicks your head, a bit harshly. “Did you get that?”

You watch as his hand pulls away from you, but immediately furrow your eyebrows. “Wait…” You grab his wrist, pulling it close to your eyes. You blink at the fingerprints staining his skin, “What’s this? You didn’t have this before practice.” 

Sukuna takes a moment to pull away, enjoying how you softly massage the spots with the pads of your fingers. “I got pissed.” He tells you nonchalantly, “Ended up–” 

“You got into a fight?” 

Sukuna tugs his hand away, “Nah, I wouldn’t call it a fight.” He shrugs, but he’s slowly starting to seethe again. Mahito’s words echoing in his head, his annoying ass smile and cocky nature slowly picturing in his head. “Like I said, I got pissed.” 

You laugh dryly, “Sounds like you.” You’re still looking at his wrist, a small concerned look on your face. “Although, I would’ve never thought you to be physical. I would’ve thought you were above that.” 

“I am.” Sukuna insists, finally rolling out of the parking lot. He’s the type to never get physical over his emotions, he’s too good for that, and doesn’t need to waste his energy on trash. But this time, Mahito got a bit too comfortable with Sukuna, acting as if they’re on the same level. Acting as if he had any fucking right to talk that way about you. 

“Sure you are.” You tease, sitting back in your seat and fixing the air vent to hit you. You hate that it’s cold, but you have to wait a bit for it to get warm. All good things come to those who wait. 

Sukuna doesn't give a reaction, “You’re following me tomorrow.” 

That shocks you, your eyes snapping to Sukuna, “What?” You playfully tilt your head, “What’s with the sudden change of heart? I thought you were dead set on “making this easier” for us?”

“Changed my mind, you’re stupid head is overcomplicating things.” Sukuna finally pulls into the garage. “Just trying to make this easy for your dumb puppy head.” He places his hand atop your head, patting it like a dog. 

You know he’s insulting you, but you still can’t ignore how his words affect you. You don’t know what it is, but the tone he used, along with the words, weirdly does it for you. You don’t even want to talk about how your chest soars with euphoria by his actions.

“I feel like we always get home really early?” You push the door open, exiting the car while grabbing your things. 

Sukuna nonchalantly tells you, “I speed.” He shuts the door, “Dumbass, what else would you do with a sports car?”

You narrow your eyes at him, “I feel like everything you do something nice, you add an insult because you feel you’re being too nice.” You tell him, pushing his hand off your head, “Like, you feel like you weren’t being Sukuna enough, and then you try to be mean to make up for it.”

Sukuna gives you a question look, “The fuck does that mean?” 

You laugh, turning away from him as you continue to smile, “Ignore me, I’m just talking out of my ass now.” You wave yourself off, “Sorry, I just like talking to you.” 

Sukuna feels his eye twitch, before he turns away from you, muttering a soft, “Idiot.” 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 22th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Wednesday

(Day 3)

You know you shouldn’t be, but you are, you’re a bit excited. So excited you actually planned out your outfit last night. You’re wearing a black tube top with a lacy finish, and some light blue ripped shorts. You also grabbed a cute cropped knitted jacket, one that perfectly fell off your shoulder and showed off your outfit. You even have your black converse to match. 

“Brat, hurry up.” Someone knocks at your door, which you can quickly deduct is Sukuna. “I’m already heading out.” You swear you can hear him whisper, “God, what the hell is taking her so long?” 

Fuck, how long have you been getting ready? It can’t have been that long, right? 

You grab your tote bag and rush out of your room, “Calm down, I’m coming.” You pull your socks to peak out from your converse, before rushing towards the garage, where you presume Sukuna is. 

“Wait,” Yuuji calls your name, standing up from the chairs from the dining table. You stop, passing him an enthusiastic nod. Yuuji seems stumped for a second, unsure of what to say, before looking down at his bowl, “Uh, are we not going to eat breakfast together today?” 

You part your lips, your heart squeezing for a moment. Shit, you’ve been totally blowing Yuuji off in the mornings this past week, because of your project. You take a step in his direction, “Oh my god, Yuuji, I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to–” 

“Are we leaving or not, brat?” Sukuna yells from the garage door.

You look at him, then back to Yuuji, you press your lips together, “I’m sorry, Yuuji, I can’t today. Let’s catch up later, yeah?” Then you’re quick to follow Sukuna into the garage, entering his car. You feel a bit bad–no, you feel terrible leaving Yuuji alone. 

“This is the first time I haven’t seen you in a skirt.” Sukuna comments, “Special occasion?” 

You play with the ends of your shorts, “No. Just wanted to spice up my wardrobe.” You pull your hand up, tugging at the tube top you’re wearing, “What? Does it look bad?” Even though your question is playful, there’s a small truthful undertone. 

“You always look decent.” Sukuna comments, his eyes moving to look at you for a split second. “Better than Yuuji’s other friend, she’s so fuckin’ annoying.” That doesn’t feel like a compliment, but it can be one. 

Still, you can’t help but notice how much more chatty Sukuna has become, you wonder if it’s merely to fill the dead air there would be without it, or if he’s gotten more comfortable with you. You hope it’s the second one. “You know Yuuji’s friends?” 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, huffing with little enthusiasm, “Of course, the brat would always invite them over.” He shrugs a bit, “I didn’t mind one of them, but other then that–”

“Oh, you’re talking about Megumi.” You nod to yourself, recalling to the black haired man, “I like him, too, he’s really cool.” You lean on the window, giggling to yourself as you add, “In a cool older brother type of way.” 

Sukuna runs his hand down his face, “Weird.” 

“Megumi being a cool older brother?” You ask, “Or, the fact you’re not?” You poke his arm playfully, a small laugh adding to your insult. Yet, Sukuna doesn’t bite, he just parks the car. You’re a bit disappointed, but observe your surroundings. 

“I work out for an hour before attending class.” Sukuna pops the door open, along with grabbing his drink. “It wakes me up in the mornings.” 

You get out with him, your tote bag comfortably resting on your shoulder. “Oh, that’s good.” You grab the notebook, and your pen. “I’ll just follow you around and write everything down.” You push your hair behind your ear, following Sukuna into the gym. “You don’t mind me asking questions, right?” 

“As long as it’s not annoying.” Sukuna already prepared himself for your ridiculous questions, planning his answers and how to make them as discreet as possible. But, to his surprise, you’re far more quiet than he originally thought.

Your questions are quick; How many reps are you going to do? What type of muscle are you focusing on today? Also, Monday and Tuesday, was it different? Oh, tell me about those. How much weight are you using? Does it burn? No, okay… Can I take a picture of you? Here’s how it looks, do you like it? Of course it matters, this is just as much your project as much as it is mine. 

Even when you’re writing, it’s far more comforting than distracting compared to what Sukuna would’ve intentionally thought. You look happy too, your notebook filling up with more information in comparison to the two other days. Humming to yourself when writing something down, or taking a picture. You have a nice voice. 

When Sukuna is done, you’re already sitting at his feet, watching him collect his things. “Do you like working out?” You ask, grabbing the water bottle that rests between your feet. Then pushing yourself off the floor, following him towards the lockers. 

“Yeah,” Sukuna is quick to answer, “I like the gains.” He passes you his keys, “Wait in the car.” You roll your eyes, but agree nonetheless. 

—

Considering the two of you have different schedules, and you’re not willing to skip any of your classes, you and Sukuna would regroup right after most of your classes have ended. Which means, the two of you would be eating lunch together. 

Which also means, you aren’t going to be able to eat lunch with Nobara today. 

You pray to everything that is holy she won’t kill you. 

You twist your hair up, placing it into a messy bun as you eye the location. You always assumed that Sukuna would be easy to spot, but now you can’t even spot–

“Brat.” Sukuna calls from behind you, “Why’d you put up your hair? Made it hard to spot you.” His hand is softly atop your head, making sure not to mess up your bun. “Hm, it’s different.” 

You push his hand off, “I hope it’s a good different.” You look at the bag in his hands, “I didn’t have time to get lunch, sorry.” You play with a strand framing your face. 

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “Of course, too busy lookin’ for me.” He shrugs, “Let's go, I know a place where we can eat.” Sukuna walks off in a direction, not bothering to check if you’re following him because he knows you are. 

“Fine, I’ll just starve today.” You mumble, dragging yourself behind Sukuna. You’re a bit annoyed, yet, pull out your phone and snap a photo of Sukuna walking. You laugh to yourself when Sukuna gives you an annoyed look. 

Yet, you can’t help but notice how many people are… looking at you? You move a bit closer to Sukuna, but this seems to worsen the stares. I mean, you completely understand the stares at Sukuna–he’s actually the hottest guy you’ve ever seen–but at you? 

“People are staring at you.” Sukuna finally finds a ledge to sit on, somewhere far from where you and your friends sit. “I told you your hair looks different.” Sukuna reaches into the plastic bag, setting down two bowls. 

You laugh dryly, narrowing your eyes at the food, “I think it’s the tattoos on your face, Lord Sukuna.” You tease, “I don’t think I’ll ever understand why you would think that’s cool. Were you in your gangster phase, or what?” 

He scoffs, “It’s better than those stupid skirts you wear everyday.” Sukuna passes you a fork, which you take gingerly. Before you can even ask questions, he says, “Pick one.” 

You don’t at all question him, just grab the bowl on top. Yet, set it comfortably at your side, grabbing your notebook and pen. “At least I look good, can’t say the same for you.” That’s a lie, that’s a big lie, you absolutely love Sukuna’s tattoos. Yet, you’re none the wiser to Sukuna’s lies. 

“What did the old drunk tell you?” Sukuna grabs his bowel, removing the top, “Probably said something stupid.”

“He thought you were an arsonist.” You snap a picture of Sukuna holding his food, but keep his face out of the picture. “Also, a serial killer.” You tuck your phone away, writing a few things down in your notebook.

“Pretty sure I am.” Sukuna finally takes a bite of his food, in the most Sukuna way possible. Massive and rude, it’s a killer contrast to how he ate in front of his grandpa. 

“Stupid.” You push your hair out of your face, “He told me about the fly.” 

“I know he told you about the fly.” Sukuna shakes his head. 

“Tell me about you.” You take a bite of your food and hum in contentment. You take a quick glance at the bag, noticing the food is from Waba Grill. “I feel like I don’t know that much.” 

Sukuna takes another bite of his food, closing his eyes for a moment. “Keep it that way.” His phone rings, but he doesn’t bother to look at it, not yet. “Don’t need a stranger knowing shit about me.” 

You laugh at this, “Seriously? But, we’re not complete strangers.” You take a bite of your food, “I feel I now more than you then most peo–” 

“Not after this week.” Sukuna places his finished bowl on the ledge, tossing his fork in it. “I hope you remember our deal.” He crosses his arms over his chest, tilting his head back. 

You take another bite of your food, “You know, you could’ve just told me a lie.” You sigh, placing your bowl down on top of Sukuna’s, “Or, pretend to be my friend for this week. It wouldn't have killed the mood.” 

Sukuna doesn’t respond, just places the trash in the empty bag. “What’s next?” 

“What’s your schedule?” You tap your pen on the notebook, “Remember, this project is about you, not so much me.” You look to the side, “Actually, speaking of schedule, it would be nice to have your classes from Monday and Tuesday, along with the rest of the week.” 

“I only have one more class today.” Sukuna pulls out his phone, finally checking the notification, only to see it’s a text from Yuuji. Something he hasn’t received in quite some time. “No practice today, though.” 

You’re still not looking at him, “That works out perfectly, I have a club meeting today.” You push yourself off the ledge, “I can meet you after, or I can meet you before. If you don’t mind waiting outside.” 

“Look at me.” 

“Huh?” You furrow your eyebrows, turning to look at Sukuna, only to be met with his camera. You flinch when his flash blinds your face. You feel your eye twitch, “What was that?” You lean over, trying to look at his screen. 

Sukuna huffs, his shoulder bouncing up in a quick laugh. “You look so dumb.” He flips his screen to you, his free hand pressed against his lips as he tries not to laugh. “Yu-Yuuji, he’s asking about you.” 

You can feel your face burning from the picture, it wasn’t that bad, or at least you think it isn’t that bad, but with Sukuna’s hushed laughs, you can help but feel embarrassed. “Oh my god, don’t send that to Yuuji, please.” 

Sukuna shakes his head, pulling his phone back to his face, only to loudly laugh at another glance of your photo. You glare at him, snatching the trash, “Oh my god, it’s not that bad, actually shut up.” 

Sukuna nods his head, “Yes, it is.” He stands up with you, collecting himself a bit more. “Here, give me your number, so I can find you after class.” He reaches for your phone. 

You snatch yourself away, “Just meet in the library, by the entrance. My club meets in one of the private rooms.” You grab your bag, along with your phone. “I don’t really like giving my number to strangers.” You playfully narrow your eyes at him. 

“Sure, be like that, doll.” Sukuna says with a small smile. 

“Whatever, I’ll see you later.” You walk off, tossing the trash away. You feel a smile building on your lips. If Sukuna is one thing, it’s confusing. 

Actually no, scratch that, it’s a bi-polar hottie. 

—-

“I already said sorry a hundred times now, I’m literally going to eat with you again by the end of this week.” You explain, placing your hand between you and Nobara. “You of all people should know what I’m going through.” 

“Yeah, but a text would’ve been nice.” Nobara lands a final blow on your arm, not before pushing you to the side. “You should’ve seen Yuuji, he even asked his brother about you. He thought you died.” 

You find that endearing, “Really?” You push the door to the library open, “That’s actually so sweet. I actually feel so bad now.” 

Nobara walks inside, pushing her hair behind her shoulder sassily, “As you should be, poor Yuuji boy looked like a lost puppy.” She points a finger at you, “Your negligence is going to force me to call animal control for a neglected puppy.”

You laugh, “Maybe we shouldn’t refer to Yuuji as a puppy, anymore.” 

Nobara waves her hand, dismissing your worry, “Sure, whatever. Anyways, I’m off, I’ll see you tomorrow–next week.” She mumbles, “Hopefully Yuuji will, too.” Into your shoulder while the two of you hug. 

You turn your head to look at her, “Stop being like that.” You pull away, “I’ll talk to you later.” Your finger pointing at her seems more accusing than comforting. 

Nobara playfully throws her arms in the air, “What-what? I didn’t say anything.” She smiles, turning on her heel, “You’re just hearing things.” She waves, “Good luck, Yuuji!” 

Yuuji? You think to yourself, where’s Yuuji–

“Hey.” 

You jump, a bit of squeak leaving your lips, “Yuuji?” You sigh out in a relief, “You scared me, babe, you can’t creep up on me.” A small laugh leaves you. 

“Sorry.” Yuuji scratched the back of his neck, “Just missed you is all.” 

Your heart squeezes, honestly, after spending almost the whole week with Sukuna, Yuuji is such a nice breath of fresh air. “Awh, I’ve missed you, too.” You loop your arm around his, pulling him with you to the club room. 

“Really? I thought you'd been avoiding me.” Yuuji says with a hint of sadness, “I feel like I haven’t seen you that much.” He places his hands behind his back, averting his eyes for a moment. 

Now, this is where immediately anyone would say, ‘Oh my gosh, no! I never would, I’m so sorry.’ But, you’re hesitating. Why? Because, you have no idea what Yuuji is talking about. You haven’t been avoiding him, nor have you been ignoring him. You hang out with him equally to Nobara–maybe, even a bit more–so, why would he think that?

“Avoiding you?” You ask, a bit stupidly, “I haven’t been avoiding you? I like hanging out with you, Yuuji, why would I avoid you?” You take a step closer, your hands reaching out, clearly wanting to hold him. 

Yuuji seems to perk up at this, “Really?” He lets his hands fall in yours, while a reassuring nod follows from your head. “Okay, well, I’m glad.” He looks to the side, “I thought you were avoiding breakfast with me, and then you kinda’ pushed me away yesterday during lunch, and you’ve been around Sukuna so much this week—I was starting to think you were replacing—”

“Wait, that hurt your feelings?” You blink a few times, pulling him closer to you. Suddenly, you do feel terrible, you understand Yuuji’s thoughts, and where he’s coming from. So, you respond in a way you wish someone would to you, “Yuuji, oh my god, no. I didn’t mean it that way.” You wrap your arms around his shoulders, bringing him into a hug. “I’m sorry, I was just joking, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.” 

Yuuji hugs you back, a nice sigh leaving his nose. “No, it didn’t, I just thought you didn’t want to be my friend anymore.” 

You whimper, incredibly touched by Yuuji’s words, “Yuuji!” You whine, hugging him even tighter, “I literally love you so much, you’re so sweet, I could never.” You pull back, hands still on his shoulder, “If I ever do something like hate you, I give you my full consent to murder me in my sleep.” You tell him with all seriousness. 

Yuuji gawks at this, “What?! No, why would I do that!” He moves his hand to your shoulder, the two of you holding each other like football men about to say an inspirational quote. “If I ever do that, I will give you permission to kill me in my sleep.” 

You laugh, nodding your hand and tangling your hand with his, “Here, I promise that when this week is over, I’ll spend however much time you want me to with you.” You pull him alongside you, “We can even spend a whole day laughing at random youtube videos, I just need this week for my project, remember?” 

Yuuji stops dead in his tracks, his free hand slapping over his mouth, “Oh my god, your project. I completely forgot about that!” Yuuji is immediately babbling apologizes, “I’m so sorry, I’m just a really big overthinker–I thought–” 

“Hey, you want to join me with my club today?” You ask, cutting off his turmoil of apologizing. “It’d be nice to spend some much needed time with you.” You’re pulling him along to your club room, reaching the door with much enthusiasm. 

Yuuji blinks a few times, before twisting his fingers with yours, a smile pulling at his lips. “Yeah, that sounds nice.” Yet, you’re already introducing him to the people of the club. 

— 

Sukuna hands you a piece of paper, “I wrote my classes for the week.” He looks back at the road, “Got bored during one of my classes.” 

You nod, writing the classes down to the corresponding day and times. When you get home, you can ask Yuuji to pull up the school map, and the two of you can estimate how long the walking distance is, and how many calories one burns from said walk. “Okay, perfect.” You shove the papers into your bag. 

“Is this what it's going to be for the rest of the week?” Sukuna asks, his eyebrows pinching together slightly. 

You press your lips together, “Well, yes, but I also have to do this mental evaluation thingy…” You rub your temples, “I’m basically going to be a therapist for a bit. You can pick any topic of discussion, as long as I can evaluate it.” 

Sukuna nods, parking the car in the garage. You are the first one to leave, not before turning on your heel and saying, “I’m going to be working with Yuuji today, if you eat, or go out somewhere, I need to tell me.”

Yet, Sukuna didn’t, he didn’t even respond.

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 23th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Thursday

(Day 4)

“Wait, now I need to add that to my information.” You quickly write down the sets Sukuna’s doing, “Why wouldn’t you tell me the first hour of practice is literally just you working out.” You mumble to yourself, “I don’t think you realized how stupid I looked sitting outside… alone.”

“I did.” Sukuna pushes the weights to the ground, sighing out in relief, “I also forgot, I just group this shit with practice.” He gestures around the room, grabbing his water bottle and taking a sip. 

Sure. You lean on the wall behind him, “Remember to stretch, I haven’t seen you do that yet.” You tuck your notebook away, “You’re going to tear something, then you won’t be able to play.” You look at your feet and mumble, “Then, I actually have to be a sports physical therapist…” 

“Then, you actually might be useful.” Sukuna adds, pushing himself off the bench. “Let’s go, before any of these dicks try to talk to me.��� He lifts the weights and puts them back on the racks, wiping off the sweat that accumulated on his brow. 

You’re already leaving the room, too busy on your phone to see if Sukuna is following. Fixing both of your bags on your shoulder so your hair isn’t awkwardly tugged by the straps. “I still need to do your mental stuff.” 

Sukuna leans his head back, not too far behind you. “Right, then this nightmare is over.” 

“This isn’t that bad. I know you like talking to me.” You push the door open, the field flooding your vision. “Besides, you actually have someone to talk to, which I have to assume is better than being alone.” A soft sigh leaves your lips when Sukuna quips something rudely behind you, but you don’t even care to listen. You’re making your way to your special little spot on the field. 

Sukuna shakes his head at you. “It’s not.” 

You turn on your shoulder, a cheeky smile on your lips as you say, “Sure.” 

“Awh, is your dog not watching you today?” Mahito whines behind him, “Or, is she sitting on the field pretty again?” He watches as you remove your jacket and place it on the turf, before you yourself settle on it. Mahito laughs at this, “It’s like she wants me to look at her.” 

Sukuna glares at Mahito, “You’re fuckin’ disgusting.” He continues off, but Mahito trails behind him. “Stop following me stitches.”

Mahito just laughs. 

Choso is already in front of Sukuna, turning his head over his shoulder, “He won’t stop talking about her.” He mouths, his eyes narrowing with caution. “Good thing you’re keeping an eye on her.” 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, a bit uncomfortable by the sentence. Maybe, worried would be the better word, but… that still doesn’t seem right. Mahito leans on Sukuna’s shoulder, “Now, let’s go have fun. Give something your little dog can watch, yeah?” 

Sukuna shoves him off, groaning in disgust. 

— 

You push your feet into the turf again, your stocking keeping a nice layer of clothing from the small soft rocks. Your elbow resting on your knee while you support your head with your palm, your free hand circling the ground and playing with the rocks. 

“Only one more day…” You whisper to yourself. Grabbing a handful of turf and sanding it though your fingers on top of your toes. What time is it? How much longer until the practice is over? You grab your phone and look at the time. “Way longer than I want to be–”

“Fuck off.” Sukuna barks. 

You pull your face up, looking at the play on the field. You can make out there are two makeshift teams, one wearing red mesh, and the other wearing blue ones. You can see Sukuna is on the red team, a receiver. 

Knowing that his team is about to toss the ball and attempt to score, you decide to give it your attention. It might help time pass by sooner, besides, that’s the first time you’ve ever heard Sukuna yell during practice. Maybe, something interesting will–

Your eyes widen as you flinch, only for your mind to flood with worry. You’re quick to your feet, your eyes frantically trying to deception the situation. Sukuna caught the ball, only to be quickly grabbed for a tackle, which is normal, if another person didn’t run into him, only to clip his shoulder while he was already being forced down. 

Even the coach is quick to Sukuna’s side, going down to a knee and touching his shoulder. Did he get it popped out of place, or did it break? Both of those thoughts make you cringe. The coach looks over his shoulder, eye connecting with you, he gestures his head to pull you over. 

Which you do without thought, clearly half the field in what feels like half a second. Your eyebrows are furrowed, “Why did you let someone do that to you?” Is the first thing you ask Sukuna, before dropping to your knees and looking at his shoulder. 

Sukuna is quick to bark back, “Yeah, cause I like getting hit.” He leans back on his forearms, groaning slightly when he puts pressure on the shoulder he popped out of place. 

“You masochist.” You whisper playfully, then finally turn to his coach. 

“We already popped it back into place, took it like a champ.” He sighs, pushing himself up and placing his hand on his hips. “Get him home, I can have someone drag him outside if you'd like.” He glares at a blue haired man, “Like the one who actually did it.” He seethes at him. 

Sukuna groans at his coach, “I’m not a fuckin–” 

The coach glares at Sukuna, quickly shutting him up. 

“My legs work fine, I can go on my own.” Sukuna quickly corrects himself. 

“He’s not coming to practice tomorrow.” The coach tells you matter of factly, “Make sure he rests today and tomorrow, nothing to exert himself.” He points a finger at Sukuna, “Which means no working out, or anything.” 

Sukuna sighs at this, eyebrows relaxing for a moment. “Sounds amazing.” 

“Or maybe, I should make you come.” He pretends to think to himself. 

You shake your head, “No, that’s not a good idea. It’s just going to get worse.” You look down, only to see you forgot to put your shoes on. Shit, that’s so embarrassing, you keep your eyes diverted, “Don’t worry, I’ll make him stay and rest.” 

“Like hell.” Sukuna barks behind the coach, eyebrows clearly furrowed at you. 

You turn on your heel, “I'm totally driving us back home, no complaining–” You slap your hand over your mouth, “Or, I mean–I’ll be driving you home.” Your face is burning, “I’m going to go warm up your car.” 

On your way back to his bag, you swear you can hear the coach tell Sukuna, “What a nice girlfriend you have.” Only for it to be quickly debunked with Sukuna saying, “Not my girlfriend, just a friend.” 

Yet, for some reason, that makes your cheeks feel even hotter. He’s calling you his friend. Not Yuuji’s, or his little brother’s friend, his friend. You’re Sukuna’s friend. You can’t help but smile to yourself. 

—

Sukuna bitched you the whole way home, but there was no way in hell you were giving up the chance to drive his pink car. Sorry, but… absolutely not. 

“Stop whining, look, we’re already here.” You open the garage with the remote on the vanity mirror, doing the same actions you’ve seen Sukuna do what feels like a million times now. “See, I told you I know how to drive.” 

Sukuna keeps his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes screwed shut. “Talk to me when you park the car.” 

You giggle, parking the car into the driveway straight inside, rather than reverse parking like Sukuna away does. “Stop being a baby.” You park the car, turning off the engine and sighing in relief, finally taking both your hands off the wheel. 

Despite your cool nature, along with your calming words, you were equally nervous to drive Sukuna’s car as he was nervous for his car. You in no way are able to pay him back if you were to damage it in any way. You can even feel your pits sweating, you’re definitely changing. 

“Good, give me damn the keys.” Sukuna extends his hand to you, which you ignore, taking the keys out of the engine and exiting the car with them. Entering the house and locking the car once you heard Sukuna close his door. 

Even when Sukuna enters the house, he can see the light of your room on. “Did you–” 

“They’re in the drawer.” You shout, popping out of your room again with a fresh set of lounge wear. Some shorts, and a simple tank top. “I remember where you put them.” You use your foot to scratch your ankle.

Sukuna notices the wooly white socks you’re wearing, comfortable and domestic. They look nice on you. “Right.” He picks the bottom of his shirt and tosses it to the floor, yawning loudly. “I’m probably going to go out and eat.”

You shake your head, grabbing one of the loops of his pants, “Absolutely not, you’re supposed to get medical help the moment you pop a shoulder out of place.” You let go, moving to his side with a head tilt. 

“Like hell I’m doing that shit.” Sukuna sneers at you, making his way to his room. “Doctors are for bitches.” He adds. 

“I knew you were going to say that.” You move to the cabinets, staring at all of them intently. “Where are you plastic baggies? Like, the ziplock type.” 

Sukuna leans back on the counter, pointing to one of the cabinets incredibly far up. “On top.” You can hear the smirk in his voice, and it drives you insane. “If you want, I’ll grab it since you’re so–” 

“No, I can do it myself.” You place your palms on the counter and push yourself up, you can hear Sukuna shuffle behind you, but you’re too scared to look back. You open the top cabinet, only to see… nothing! 

Sukuna’s right behind you, his hands resting by your ankles as he laughs to himself, watching as you twist your body around and sit on the counter in front of him. His arms caging you. You’re glaring at him, “There right here.” He says with an amused laugh, opening the cabinet right below your feet and placing a ziplock bag at your side. “Idiot.” 

You snatch the bag, “You’re the idiot.” You push him away and move to the fridge, placing some ice in the bag and wrapping it in some paper towels. “I swear, I should just leave you to rot with that injury.” 

“I already popped it back into place.” Sukuna tells you, snatching the makeshift ice pack and placing it on his shoulder. He stifled a groan, clearly in some form of pain. “That shit doesn’t hurt anymore.”

You pout at this, your hands moving to play with the bottom of your shorts. “Okay..” You press your lips together, looking to the side. “Well, if you want, since you don’t have anything else to do but rest, can we?...” You look at him half expectantly. 

“Fuck?” Sukuna smirks. 

“No.” You deadplan. 

Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek, closing his eyes before letting out a long sigh. “Fine. Let’s get this over with.” He pushes himself away from you, moving towards his room. “But, we’re doing this stupid shit in my room.” 

You nod, grabbing your bag and following, “Whatever is comfortable for you.” You can’t lie, but… you’re a bit excited. There’s always been a morbid curiosity to see what Yuuji’s or Sukuna’s room looks like, now you can cross one off of the bucket list. 

Yet, the moment Sukuna enters his room, leaving the door open for you, you pause at the door frame. Sukuna’s room is… almost exactly how you pictured it to be. A bit minimal, clean, and dark. His sheets are a black silk, and look cool to the touch. Also, pressed right against your wall, the headboard pressed to the wall right next to it. 

You immediately think of your first night sleeping here, the sound of the headboard slamming, along with the lewd moans from–you shake your head, stop it. 

Sukuna sits on the edge of his bed, “Are you just going to stand there and waste my time, or are you going to actually come in?” He turns on the light of the lamp on his bedside counter, which isn’t all too bright. Honestly, his room is relatively dark. 

You nod, pushing yourself forward and placing your things down on his desk. It’s also black and minimal. “I think I’m just going to record an audio, since I don’t really feel like writing things down right now.” It will also make talking to Sukuna way easier. 

Sukuna applies pressure to his shoulder, wincing a bit, “Sure, just tell me what you want me to say.” 

You place your phone face down next to his, the recodering now saving your conversation with him. “That’s not how this works.” You cross your arms over your chest, pushing yourself off the desk and towards Sukuna. “You need to talk to me, and I’m just listening.” 

Sukuna groans dramatically, which causes you to jam your fingers into his shoulder, which in return makes him yell a loud profanity. You just laugh, “Lay down, I’ll help you.” You pull the ice pace away. 

“Yeah, fuck no.” He narrows his eyes at you suspiciously. 

“Just lay down, and I’ll give you some idea about what you can talk about.” You tell him with a forced smile, “I’m trying to be nice, so just lay down and take it.” You huff annoyedly, “Keep your back to me.” 

Sukuna hesitates, but reluctantly lays down. Resting into his sheets, and you can physically see that, his muscles seem to relax. You take this time to sit down next to him, looking at your phone to make sure the audio is recording before feeling your hands. “They’re a bit cold but…” 

Sukuna groans, “Don’t fuckin’ touch me with ‘em–” He jumps when your fingertips touch his skin, a surprised gasp following. “What did I fuckin’ say? Get your hands off me.” 

“You’re such a baby.” You whisper, “I’m just trying to help. You said so yourself earlier.” You laugh to yourself, well… more at Sukuna than anything. “Remember, when I told you to stretch?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, he does remember that, but doesn’t want to admit it. “Whatever. At least you’re being useful.” His eyes dart to the drawer when he hears a notification buzz. 

You notice it, “Awh, see! You do remember.” You continue to rub the joint, noticing how he groans slightly. You  laugh a bit, “You took a real beating today, I’m surprised you let someone even touch you, Mr. I’m good at everything.” 

“I wasn’t paying attention.” Sukuna groans at you, flinching when you apply even the slightest pressure on his shoulder. 

“Bad Sukuna.” You murmur, using your thumbs to rub soft circles into the joint of his shoulder. “What distracted you today?” 

“Nothing.”

The phone buzzes again, making both of you turn your attention to the phones. Sukuna laughs at this, “What respect you’re showing me right now.” He taps your thigh, “Go on, doc, answer whoever is texting you.” 

You roll your eyes, reaching over, “As if, I don’t talk to people, it’s probably your phone.” You grab his phone, flipping the device so you can look at the screen, which you can immediately see two messages from an unknown number. 

“And, you’re blaming me.” You say with an eye roll. 

“Don’t sound so excited that none of your friends are talking to you.” Sukuna sighs, “I told you my password, see what it says.” 

You do exactly that, clicking on the two messages to open the banner. “It’s an unsaved number, and you have no message history with it.” You notice there’s an image, which makes you click the message and open the message app. You immediately gasp, playing the phone face down on the counter.

That makes Sukuna flinch, “What?” 

“There’s a picture–uh, it’s of a..” You reach over his back, grabbing one of his pillows. “It’s a nude.” You feel your face burning a bit, “And, uh, an equally explicit message.” 

Sukuna smirks at you, “Read me the message.” His hand rubs your thigh, you swat it away… more like slap it away. 

“No, you can read it.” You face away from him, “Besides, I’m pretty sure that message and picture was for only you to see.” You place your hands on his shoulder again, “You can look at it later.” 

“Read it to me.” He whispers, turning on his side, “What’d she look like?” 

“Blonde, and pale.” You tell him, grabbing the pillow again and placing it on his head, “Stop looking at me…” You keep focus on his shoulder, the pillow muffling his laughter. “Uhm, she said… can’t wait for this weekend… daddy.” 

Sukuna laughs even louder at that, “Yeah, I love that name on your tongue.” He pushed the pillow to the side ever so slightly, “Would love something else on your tongue.” 

“Shut up.” You shout, grabbing the pillow and pressing it over his face. “You should probably answer, anyway.” 

Sukuna shakes his head, letting you keep the pillow over his head. “Nah, I know who it is. Don’t like her.” He taps the pillow, telling you to release him, which you don’t. He just sighs, dropping his arms as if he died on the spot. “I originally blocked her, looks like she got another number to text me.” 

“Weird.” You laugh a bit, finally taking your hands off the pillow with a small laugh. “I promise you, you will never catch me texting a man who has blocked me.” You take the pillow off his face, placing it on your lap. “I would never be that desperate.” 

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, “Really? A lot of girls do.” He looks at his phone, giving it an annoyed eye roll. 

“Define a lot of girls.” 

“Three.” He’s passing you a smug smile.

“Is this the third?” You grab his phone, open the camera app and point it at him. You’re smiling a small bit when you quietly whisper, “Whore.” Taking a picture of him. 

“Can you block her for me?” He taps your thigh, ignoring your question. “Hopefully she’ll take the hint this time.” He rolls his eyes, “I swear, she’s so fuckin’ crazy. She thinks we’re in love or something.” Sukuna adds a small humorous laugh. 

You add a laugh, “Someone’s chatty.” You open his phone, quickly blocking the number. For some reason, it gives you a nasty satisfaction to do so, like Sukuna is choosing you over a desperate attempt for his attention. You, someone he hasn’t so much as kissed, over a girl half naked and horny. 

He picks you.

“Do you trust me?” You ask, swiping out of the one-sided conversation and quickly eyeing the chat logs. You can’t help but notice the little amount there is, so little where you didn’t even need to scroll to reach the end of all the chat logs, only three of them being saved, while the others are unsaved numbers. You recognize two of them, Yuuji and their grandpa, but the other one is unfamiliar to you. It’s also the most recent person he’s talked to. 

Uraume.

“Nah, I don’t trust you at all.” Sukuna says, turning on his stomach again. “This was all just a diversion to distract you.” He mumbles, “So we don’t have to do this stupid project anymore…” 

You press your lips together in a tight smile, finding it a bit amusing. “Okay, whatever, sure.” You tap his shoulder, “I guess, I can give you small praise since it worked… for a little.” You look to the side thinking, “Lets see… hm, if you want, we can talk about football.” You push yourself farther on the bed, your thigh touching his side. 

Sukuna loudly–and dramatically–sighs into the pillow, “Don’t like talking about football.” Sukuna mumbles into his pillow, his back contracting and relaxing. “I don’t even really like football, I just did it, because Yuuji–” He stops himself. 

Your fingers stop for a moment, “Oh, Yuuji? We can also talk about Yuuji if you feel like it.” You place one of your legs underneath yourself, leaning on Sukuna a small bit. “I really like Yuuji, maybe more than I like you.” 

“Right.” Sukuna grits, fixing his left arm to rest underneath his forehead. “I’m sure you want to fuck Yuuji, too.” 

You narrow your eyes, “What is your fixation on fucking? Believe it or not, people like making genuine bonds without ulterior motives.” You continue to work into Sukuna’s shoulder, “Like me being friends with Yuuji, or helping you right now because I know your shoulder hurts.” 

“You’re just doing this for your project.” Sukuna flutters his eyes closed, softly sighing. 

“No, I’m following you around because I need a grade, and I’m having this conversation with you because I need a grade.” You stop massaging his shoulder, using one of your hands to slowly trace the ridges of his muscles. “I don’t need to be helping you right now, more or less massaging you, but I am.” 

You see Sukuna’s lips part, only to close. 

“I’m doing this because I like you, ‘Kuna.” You bit your lip, a bit nervous. “I don’t think you’re that bad anymore.” You now move your hands to both his shoulders, giving your attention to them. 

Sukuna scoffs, but there’s a flattered undertone to it, “Thanks, means so much to me.” He sarcastically tells you. 

You laugh a soft smile on your lips, “Of course, babe, I mean every word.” You glance at your phone, before biting the inside of your cheek. “Okay, so… do you want to talk about Yuuji?” 

“What is there to talk about?” His shoulders jump together slightly. 

“What do you want to tell me?” You push your other leg on the bed, completely placing your weight on it. You don’t want to push the subject too much, you’ve seen the way Yuuji shuts down or gets uncomfortable when speaking about his brother. Even if it’s as simple as asking Sukuna’s name. 

Sukuna stays silent, but you can see the mental debate going on in his head. Despite how much you don’t want to, you tell him, “A kind reminder that we’re no longer friends after this, or anything after this week. You can tell me anything, and I’ll forget all about it.” It’s a comforting gesture, “I’m a burner phone you can tell anything.” 

Sukuna seems to flinch at this, or–flinch when your thumbs rub at a knot between his shoulders. You can’t tell, but he nods his head slowly, “Yeah, that’s true.” 

You know you’re supposed to be excited, Sukuna’s a hard person to get along with. But, you’re not… You like slowly getting to know him. Helping him out like this, or having mean back and forth banter. It’s fun and amusing to you. 

You don’t want to stop talking to him. 

A part of you wonders if Sukuna thinks the same. 

“I don’t know… where to start, or what to say.” He tells you, before his shoulders jump up, almost in a short laugh. “Sit on my back.”

“You can start with—what?” You blink a few times, your hands coming to a halt. “What did you say?” You nervously laugh. 

“You heard me.” Sukuna says into his pillow, “My lower back is killing me, some pressure would be nice, friend.” You feel like the word is a drug, being injected into several times today with the dosage growing. 

You shake your head, before pushing yourself up and lifting your left leg over his back, and keeping the right one planted. You’re a bit nervous to put your weight on him, “Are you sure?”  “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“What if I’m too heavy?” You have your hands on his upper back, keeping yourself stable. 

“For fucks sake–” Sukuna groans, twisting his hand and grabbing you tight to pull you down. Which you do with a bit of a jump, “See, was that fuckin’ hard?” He lets his hand fall to his side, right next to your calf. 

You take a moment to regroup. Your mind going blank for a moment, your face turning hot. Oh my god, you’re sitting on him, you are sitting on him. You thank everything that is holy that he can see your face right now. 

You heard somewhere that when you sit on guys, they can feel your… Oh my god. Actually kill me, actually strike me down where I sit right now. You can feel your mind racing, while your heart beats so unbearably fast, you’re surprised Sukuna isn’t saying anything. Why isn’t he saying anything?! 

You look at your hands, just your hands, “Uhm, t-tell me… uhm, tell me about you and Yuuji.” You place your hands on his neck, his hair tickling the tips of your fingers. “Were you two close as kids or anything?” You push your thumbs into the nape of his neck, igniting a soft groan from him. 

Sukuna softly grabs your ankle, “Yeah, somethin’ like that.” He’s playing with your fuzzy socks, “My parents–our parents… when we moved in with Pops, we were close. It was up until high school when things changed.” 

“Did something happen in high school?” You’re watching his hand play with your sock, tugging and twisting it between his middle and index finger. “To you, or between you and Yuuji?” 

“No.” He pauses for a moment, “Yes.” He sighs, “We’d done everything together in elementary or middle school. Absolutely everything.” Sukuna’s hand stops, “But, I started to do a bit more. I… I wanted to do more.” 

You bring your hands lower, dipping your fingers into the ridges of his back. “Is that a bad thing? A small sibling rivalry?” You inquire, readjusting your sitting on his back. 

“No, it was good at first.” Sukuna tells you, “We’d join sports together, play video games together, and try to get better grades, so on. We were really close, despite how different we were.” He takes a deep breath, then exhales, “Then, we both entered high school.”

High school. Where friendships go to die, and petty rivalries thrive. You remember those times, it’s why you decided to attend college in a different state, you wanted to leave that past–your home life–behind. 

“It was fine at first, I was a junior, he was a freshman. It didn’t matter. We still kept up with our rivalry, and we were still really close.” Sukuna laughs to himself, and it sounds genuine, the most genuine you’ve ever heard from him before. “Pops used to joke I was some weird spiteful spirit cursing my cheerful younger brother. “ 

You remember that, you can’t help but smile. “That’s cute.”

“We did–we had so many achievements together.” He nods to himself, “Yeah.” Sukuna clears his throat, “Then, I got my tattoos.” 

You laugh a bit, “Your biggest trophy, right?”

“Yeah.” Sukuna turns his head to the side, looking at you. “An important milestone in my life. Out shining every other achievement.” He wrinkles his nose, “I also stopped spending time with Yuuji, I started hanging out with other people.”

You pull yourself off Sukuna and move to his left, resting your back on the wall and resting your feet over his mid back. “That’s a bad thing?” You play with your shorts, “I mean, it’s not like you have to spend every waking hour with him, right?” 

“No–yes. I mean, I left him out a lot.” He turns to his side, pushing your legs off him while sitting up. “This is… I don’t know, it’s something he told me when things went to shit.” He bites the inside of his cheek, “Yuuji told me a lot of things.” 

“Do you?... want to tell me?” You scoot in closer, pushing his bangs out of his face. 

Sukuna plays with the string of your shorts, “Before any of that…” He taps your stomach a bit, “Uh, beginning of my senior year, my parents contacted me.” You want to gasp, but you don't, you continue to play with his hair. “They wanted to come back, and I wanted them to come back.” 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, “I… I was happy, you know? Why wouldn’t I be?” He smiles to himself, looking at you. “I wanted to show them my tattoos.” He hesitates for a moment, “I wanted to show them… all of them.” 

You feel a small jolt of pain hit your chest. His words are deliberate, holding meaning and need to be deciphered.

You laugh a bit, letting your hands fall to your side. You can feel his hand moving to your waist, pulling you closer to him. “Right, who wouldn’t want to see your tattoos.” You let him pull you closer, “They’re cool looking.” Is one hell of a way to put it.

Sukuna nods, looking at his hand again. “Yeah.” He blinks, “They told me they were going through a rough time, needed to get their shit together, needed money, and wanted to do better for me–us.” He corrects, “They promised. Even scheduled a dinner with me.”

“How was that?” 

Sukuna shrugs, “Who knows? They never went.” He scoffs to himself, “Waited an hour and a half outside the damn restaurant like a fuckin’ idiot.” 

You feel like you’ve seen that sight before, it feels like a distant vision. Which doesn't make sense, you didn’t know Sukuna back in high school. It doesn’t matter. “What did you do after that?” His hand tightens a bit. 

Sukuna presses his lips together, “I told Yuuji.” 

That single sentence, those three words, just tore Sukuna apart. His heart on his sleeve, his eyes finally holding some form of life and emotion. Pain. 

“I wanted him to come with me.” He’s whispering now. “I’ve never seen–Yuuji so..” He takes a deep breath, “Yuuji didn’t say anything to me that night, or that week. He didn’t say anything until I started packing to move in with my parents.” 

He finally looks at you, “I was excited, I was happy.” He bites the inside of his cheek, a small huff leaving his nose. “Surprise, surprise. That’s when things went to shit. I was the reason, who would’ve fuckin’ thought?”

“I’m sure it’s…” You feel the sentence die, Sukuna’s expression pulling on your heart. 

“Yuuji walked into my room.” His words seem robotic, like he’s telling this story from a paralyzed body. “He saw me packing. He saw me happy. He saw–” Sukuna blinks a few times, “We argued, a lot.” 

You grab his hand. 

“I said–I wasn’t a good person my junior year, I’m still not a–” Sukuna pauses at that, hesitating with a furrowed brow, then finally continuing. “I did a lot of shit I regret now, but the thing I regret most in life are the things I told Yuuji that night. I wish I could take it back.”

Sukuna laughs a bit, “You know, Yuuji helped me realize that. I didn’t know how shitty of a brother I was until that night. Told me I never spent time with him, and he said I could never let him have anything. Anything that he liked or did, I always had to be better or just take from him.” 

“I thought?–”

“I did, too.” His foot starts bouncing, “We were really angry, we did nothing but yell. My throat burned, it was so… painful.” He grabs his throat, rubbing it slightly, “Then, right before I left, Yuuji…” 

You place your other hand on his, “You don’t have to tell me anymore if you don’t want to, I promise this is fine.” You squeeze, “This is a lot for one person, I don’t want you to push yourself for me–” You flinch, “Uhm, I mean, the deal…” 

Sukuna shrugs, “It’s fine.” He looks at your hands around his, it’s comforting, he doesn’t deserve it. He hesitates to say, “Burner phone.” But, there’s an underlying undertone you don’t understand. 

You nod, “Okay. Keep telling me.” 

“Yuuji, right before I was going to leave, he–he broke down. He started crying–no, sobbing.” His hand grabs yours, “He clung to me like we were children again, hiding from a thunderstorm. He begged me to stay, he told me our parents were horrible, they didn’t deserve a second chance, they didn’t deserve me–” He shakes his head, “But, Yuuji didn’t know them, so it was easy for him to decide for me. I knew them, they were my parents, they raised me.” 

“Yeah, that’s completely normal to think.” You pull yourself to sit beside him, your shoulder touching his. “They’re your parents, they raised you for a bit, you’re going to want to see the good in them.” 

“No–they weren’t good people. I’m not a good–I wasn’t a good person. I wanted to go with Yuuji, but he’s tears were annoying–his words were annoying, I couldn’t fucking stand them. Everything was fine when I was growing up, so I couldn’t wrap my head around it. Our parents didn’t leave us for no reason, there had to be a fuckin’ reason.” 

You can feel your heart drop. There’s no way, Sukuna wouldn’t have…

Sukuna presses his lips together, blinking rapidly. “Then, there was Yuuji yelling and screaming at me about how shitty they were. And, I know–I knew in the moment, I shouldn't have thought it–let alone said it, but I did… It was the only thing that made sense.” 

Sukuna looks at you, and you can see the years worth of pain in his eyes, “I told him he was the reason they left.” You can see his eyes glaze over, “Then, I left.” His fist clenches, “I waited in my car, waiting for them to show up. I waited all night, checked my phone every second I could.” 

You twist your body to face him, “Funnily enough, I did get some form of sleep. I dreamt about meeting them. I dreamt that Yuuji came, too, and I apologized. Everything went back to normal, and we were happy.” He lets his head fall back on the head board. “Then, I woke up.

Sukuna stays quiet, and he doesn’t say anything for a long time. His gaze stays distant, his face unreadable, for a long time. 

“They didn’t come.” He finally gains the power to look at you, look at your expression, look at your reaction, look at how you–the one person to put up with him–are looking at him. Someone who didn’t put up with his bullshit, who smiles at Yuuji without a care, who can’t even look at him without some form of a glare. He’s looking for your reaction to his worst. The sole thing he believes makes him not human, the worst of his life. 

‘I’m a burner phone.’ 

‘I’m doing this because I like you, ‘Kuna.’

He feels his chest tighten, “We weren’t the same after that.” He looks at his hands, “I moved out that week into my best friend’s house. And, never came back. I couldn’t face him.”

Sukuna watches as tears roll down your eyes, hitting the tank top you’re wearing and creating a small wet stain. Your lip quivering, before you wrap your arms around his neck, your words coming out so soft and comforting, “Sukuna.”

These boys, Sukuna and Yuuij. Victims to absent parents. Angry and bitter, ignorant and innocent. You feel terrible for Yuuji, and you feel like a shitty person yourself. You just want to hug both of them, you want to give your love and support to both of them. 

Especially Yuuji. He didn’t do anything wrong. 

Sukuna is reeling in the way you say his name, it feels like you’ve never said it to him before. It’s amazing, it feels so intimate and caring, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He hates that you know this now, how can you look at him the same?

“I’m so sorry.” You tighten your arms around him, “You’re not a bad person.” 

Sukuna feels his body tense, before wrapping his arms around your torso, and pulling you into his lap. He’s holding you so tight, his face in the crook of your neck, while his knees pull in, trapping you into him. 

You just hug him tighter, “Sukuna.” You whisper, your fingers rubbing circles into his back, but there’s no attention-grabbing nature to it. You’re saying his name in a comforting chant, “Sukuna. Sukuna. Sukuna…” 

The two of you stay like this for a long time. A very long time. 

Sukuna closes his eyes, his fingers gripping into your shirt. “Yesterday, you and Yuuji hugged.” He tells you slowly, “It wasn’t like this.” You just nod, Sukuna just briefly laughs, “Yuuji deserves a friend like you.” Your name punctuates the sentence. 

You hum, “You do, too, Sukuna.” You feel like he’s told you so much, but you have nothing in return to say to comfort him. You want to, you want to more than anything, but nothing comes to mind. That makes you feel terrible. “I feel like… I should say something, but I don’t know what to say.” You softly sigh, “I’m sorry.” 

Sukuna shakes his head against your neck, “Don’t be.” He closes his eyes, relaxing into your body. “You’re enough.” You can feel his lashes on your neck, “Your silence is enough.” 

Those words, that gesture, sparks an idea in your head. You don’t have to say anything. You slowly pull away from him, pulling your hand in front of your chest.

You point your pinky up. 

Then, your pointer and thumb next. 

Finally, your pinky and thumb while pressing the rest of your fingers to your palm. 

Sukuna doesn’t understand what you’re telling him, and you’re okay with that. He just leans back into his headboard while his gaze falls from you. “I think…” He sighs, knowing what he’s going to say isn’t going to sit well with you, “I think I want to be alone.” 

You feel your heart twist in slight pain, but nod nonetheless. “Okay, I’ll give you some space.” You push yourself off of him, sitting on the ledge of his bed for a moment. A part of you is hoping–praying that he will grab you, call for you, or something, to make you stay. 

But, Sukuna stays quiet when you grab your phone, grab your bag, fix your socks, fix your shorts, fix your tank top, fix his sheets, turn off his light, stand at his door, and finally close it. 

Even when you’re laying in bed, ear pressed against the wall, trying to gauge even a slight thought about what Sukuna is experiencing right now—you know it’s invasive, but you want to know how he feels—there’s nothing. It’s silent. 

Sukuna stays quiet. 

･ ｡ﾟ☆:  *･ November 24th, 2023 ☽ .* :☆ﾟ.

Friday

(Day 5)

The moment you were up, you were looking for Sukuna. Yet, you noticed he wasn’t in the kitchen, nor did he leave his room. You’re tempted to knock, get some form of ambience of clarity, or comfort him, but you don’t. He needs time to himself, you mentally tell yourself, he relieved his childhood trauma for your benefit. 

You’re quick to find out that Sukuna’s not going to class. You’re a bit bummed, but understand nonetheless. 

Yuuji, on the other hand, is incredibly excited to finally spend time with you. So much so, he planned a dinner all of you can attend. You’re tempted to offer Sukuna to join, but hold your tongue. 

So, you’re desperately trying to distract yourself, skimming through all your clothing for something to wear. Yet, for some reason you felt a small emotion of uncertainty bubbling within you. Every outfit you put together just doesn’t look good. 

“Why’s this so hard…” You mumble to yourself, tossing the shirt you were wearing at Yuuji’s face. You sit next to him on your bed, “I swear, I’m usually really good at outfits.”

“I don’t know why you‘re trying so..” Yuuji stops mid sentence, feeling the glare you’re giving him. “All I’m saying is, we’re just going out to eat.” He pulls the shirt off his face, looking at you again. “You don’t have to extort yourself over an outfit, we’re only going out to eat. Just wear what you’re wearing now.” 

“Yuuji,” You start, hands fiddling together in front of you. “We’re going to Claim Jumper’s, I have to look good.” You lean on your closet, “In my standards, that’s a fancy restaurant.” You discreetly look away muttering, “And besides, I wore this to school, it’s dirty…”

“Claim Jumper? Really, you think that’s fancy?” Yuuji smiles, biting the inside of his cheek. “Unless, you’re trying to impress someone?” He copies the way you spring up. 

You feel your jaw drop for a second, before quickly recovering. “Gross. I would never.” You turn back to your closet, grabbing a random shirt and looking for some pants. You end up grabbing some shorts, and stand up again.

This time, with someone behind you. Yuuji laughs, reaching over you and grabbing a simple dress. “How about wearing this.” He pulls it off your hanger, holding it over you.  

You lean back on Yuuji’s chest, looking up at him with a thoughtful pout. “Hm, I think it cuts too deep in my boobs.” 

Yuuji jumps at this, pulling away from you until he is pressed on the opposite wall against you. He says your name in exasperation, “Oh my god! Language.” His face is pure red. 

You smile, picking up the dress off the ground. You parted your lips, letting out a soft laugh. “You’re so weird, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji breathes out quickly, before smiling. Dimples. “I think I’m the most normal one in this house.” He places his hand on his neck. 

You playfully scoff, “Whatever, yeah, this is good enough.” You slip the dress over your body, brushing it out with your hand. Moving your hands under the skirt and pulling down your shorts, along with removing your sports bra in a similar fashion. “I guess you have a good eye, or whatever.” 

“See, what would you do without me?” Yuuji boast, you take this time to look forward. Glancing at your vanity to fix the little things about your look. Mostly to do your makeup. 

Yuuji decides this is the best time to lay down in your bed, cuddling with all your girly stuffed animals and your pink sheets. “This is amazing.” 

You laugh, applying some of your makeup while Yuuji scrolls on his phone. It’s silent, and silence leaves you with your thoughts, your thoughts lead you to Sukuna. 

“Tell me about Sukuna.” You ask Yuuji, turning over your chair and giving him your attention. 

Yuuji seems to perk at this, giving you a curious look. “Random.” He tilts his head, “What do you want to hear?” 

“Anything.” You smile at him through the mirror, picking up your concealer. “Tell me absolutely anything about you two.” 

Yuuji thinks for a moment, looking at the roof then finally back to you. “Okay, so… back when we were younger, we were obsessed—and I mean, obsessed with Sailor Moon.” 

“Who was your favorite?” You point an accusing finger at him with your makeup brush. 

“Jupiter.” Yuuji says, his hand clapping as he tells you, “The ponytail, dude, the ponytail.” He places his hand over his eyes, “The athletic girl aesthetic.” He deeply breathes, “She was made for me, literally made for me.”

You laugh, tapping your lip in thought with the back of your brush. “I was a Venus girly.” You smile, recalling your youth, even humming the theme song. 

“No way! So was Sukuna!” Yuuji joins in with you, but actually sings the theme song, “Sailor Moon! Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight…”

You hold your brush like a microphone, “Never running from a real fight!” 

“She is the one named Sailor Moon!”

“She is the one named Sailor Moon!” You laugh, applying your light brown color to your eyelid. “That theme song will never leave my mind.” 

“Yeah, that show was amazing.” Yuuji pulls up his phone, “We loved it so much, we even dressed up as the characters for Halloween.” He flips the phone to you to reveal a picture with a small Yuuji and Sukuna, where they’re dressed in their characters along in their respective poses. 

“Oh my god, Yuuji, I need this photo.” You grab his phone, absolutely adoring the photo. “You guys are so cute together.” 

Yuuji sighs, pulling his phone away, “We used to be, now we’re just moody adults.” He sits down on your bed, while you grab some lip gloss and apply it to your lips. “Everything is fine, I just wish we could talk, you know?” 

You pass him a comforting smile and nod, “Yeah, I get you, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji awkwardly smiles, to himself, “Like, I love my brother, but… I don’t think he loves me.” He shakes his head, waving his hand. “I’m being dumb, ignore me. It’s fine.” 

“You’re not being dumb, Yuuji, not at all.” You rub your lips together. You also notice that Yuuji is staring at them, and you can’t help but smile. “Do you want some?” You sit down next to him, your knees touching. 

Yuuji’s eyes seem to light up at this, “Hell yeah!” He leans in close to you, “I wanna be a pretty girl.” He bats his eyelashes at you, pucking his lips. 

You laugh, grabbing his face and putting the lip gloss over his lips messily. You fake a cringe, “Oh, oops! I think I messed up.” You rub your thumb over his lips, just worsening the lips gloss, “Oh oops! It happened again I think I have too–” 

There’s a knock at your door frame, and both you and Yuuji look at it. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Sukuna looks at Yuuji, eyeing the sheer sticky substance on his lips, along with your matching ones. 

You practically bounce from your spot, your eyes full of glimmer, “Sukuna!” You go to hug him, only to be met with his finger flicking your head. You pause, cupping your forehead. “You could’ve just hugged me back.” You’ve been dying to see him all day, yet, he’s acting as if nothing happened between you two. 

Something did happen. 

“Too much, brat.” Sukuna whispers at you, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re bad with personal space.” He teases. 

You look to the side, crossing your arms over your chest while mumbling, “As if you’re not…”

“What was that?” He barks at you. 

Yuuji shakes his head, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you to his side. “No, we weren’t busy? Why, what’s up?” He lets his arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you into him. 

Sukuna takes a moment to respond, eyeing the way his brother holds you, but it isn’t long until his attention is back on you. “We’re going to a party tonight.” He tells you, “So, be ready by like seven.” 

You tilt your head at this, “Really? Oh my gosh, I love parties.” You dance a bit in your spot, excitement seeping through your body. “Are we going to a bar, or maybe a friend's house?” You tilt your head. 

Sukuna shakes his head, “No, I got invited to a frat.” 

Your expression falls, “Nevermind.” You turn on your heel, and duck under Yuuji’s shoulder. “I’m going out to eat with friends, who knows how long we’re going to be out?” You grab your lip gloss from the bed. 

Sukuna turns on his heel, “Be back before seven then.” 

You huff, turning back to Yuuji, “Ugh, can you believe him.” You grab Yuuji’ shirt and tug him down with you on the bed, both of your legs flying in the air for a moment. “He’s so dumb.” There’s a small smile on your face. 

Yuuji blinks at you, “Yeah.” He's smiling, nonetheless. He whispers your name, which makes you turn to look at him. This is when Yuuji moves in and cups your ear, whispering a single sentence in your ear. 

It takes you a second to process, but the moment you do, you immediately pull away from Yuuji, falling off your bed as you do so. Both of your hands cupping your mouth as your face is burning with embarrassment. 

Yuuji laughs, hand mimicking you. “I was just joking, I wasn’t being serious.” He tilts his head at you from your comfy bed, “Looks like you are, though.” 

“Don’t say that Yuuji, I don’t–” 

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me.” Yuuji swings his feet off your bed, narrowly missing your head. “This is actually crazy, he managed to make some like his bitchy face.” He places his hand on your head, “Who knew it would be an absolute angel like you?” 

You tilt your head to the side, “Wait, you’re not mad at me?” You cringe to yourself, “Usually when a girl likes their friend’s older brother, it becomes a huge mess.” 

Yuuji laughs, “I mean, are we not going to be friends anymore? If so, then, yeah, I’d be pretty mad you’re leaving me for my older brother.” He wrinkles his nose, “That would suck, like genuinely.” 

You laugh, pulling your legs together so you can hug him, “Yeah, that would suck.” You smile at him, “But that’ll never happen, I like being friends with you, Yuuji.” You push yourself off the floor, tackling him in a hugh while the two of you fall on your bed. “You’re a bit stuck with me right now, Yuuji, and if this is your pathetic attempt to get rid of me, I’m sorry to say it isn’t working.” 

Yuuji pushing you on the bed, hugging you back. “I’m so glad.” He smiles into your arms, hugging your way harder. You are a bit worried that you can’t breathe. Still, you find it endearing how much Yuuji cares for you, despite the small time the two of you have spent together. 

You’re also happy he still cares for his brother. Sukuna clearly cares for Yuuji, too, if only the two of them could talk to each other. 

When your phone rings, the sound startling you. You glance at your bedside drawer, seeing how Yuuji is closer to it. He leans over and peers at who the caller is. 

“Who is it?” You push yourself up and try to look at your phone with him. 

“Nobara.” 

“Oh.” You turn to look at your door, your eyebrows furrowing together. “Really? Shit, do you think she’s here?” You grimace, waving your hand. “Uhm, just pick up.” 

Yuuji follows suit, watching you turn back to the mirror and finish getting ready. He picks up the phone, “Nobara?”

“Yuuji? Where’s the love of my life?” Nobara asks ludicrously, it makes you and Yuuji laugh. 

“Currently hiding her body, why? You need her, or something?” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Yuuji, I swear to god!” 

You and Yuuji burst out laughing, you come onto the call, “I’m here babe, I’m here babe. Tell me, what’s up?” You grab your phone. 

Yuuji can hear distant music in the background. “Are you already outside?” He asks, “Cause, we’re not ready—“ Yuuji quickly says your name as a correction, “She’s not ready, so, you may be waiting outside for a bit.” 

You send him a nasty glare, one that only makes him laugh. 

Nobara takes a moment to respond, and when she does, it’s not directed at any of you. “Did you hear that, Megumi? We’re going to be chillin’ here for a moment.” She sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.” With that, she ends the call. 

Yuuji sits on your bed, placing the phone back on the drawer. “With gas prices, I’m so glad I don’t have a car.” He leans his back, letting his head tilt. “That’s why I take the bus everywhere.” 

“You also don’t have a care.”

Yuuji nods, “I also don’t have a car.” 

“Does this mean that Nobara is our sugar mommy?” You narrow your eyes in thought, “You know, since she buys us everything, drives us around, is pretty hot…?”

Yuuji blinks a few times in shock, “Oh my god, we’re sugar babies.” He slaps his hand over his eyes, “I swore off this life back my freshman year… I can’t believe I’ve fallen back into this madness.”

“Back into this life?.” You repeat slowly at him, clapping your hands together. “You’ve had experience being a sugar baby?” You place your shoes on, glancing at the mirror and smiling to yourself. Perfect.

Yuuji nods his head placing his head on yours while looking at the mirror with you, “Of course, you think I’m paying for this place.” He scoffs with a laugh, “You’re funny, I would never. That’s too much work for me right now.” 

“Babe, Yuuji, love of my life, you’re telling me you’re Sukuna’s sugar baby?” You raise your eyebrow at him, looking at his face through the mirror. 

“I’m just Sukuna’s baby.” Yuuji nods to himself, “Yeah.” 

You laugh, pulling yourself away and walking towards your door, “Alright let's go, seems like I have to be back before seven for Sukuna.” You sigh, “Sukuna’s twenty one, right? It wouldn’t be snitching him out if I wrote down he drank.”

“I think so?” Yuuji follows you, finger against his bottom lip in thought. “I mean, last time I checked, he was seventeen.” 

You deadpanned at Yuuji, “Sukuna is not seventeen, I swear, you and your grandpa..” You smile to yourself, “Seems like Sukuna is the only one who’s good with birthdays in your family.”

Yuuji blinks a few times, “Really?”

You nod, “Yes, babe, he’s the one who corrected your grandpa when he said you were sixteen.” You grab his arm, pulling him to your side, “Now that I really think about it, Sukuna is very observant.”

Yuuji looks over his shoulder, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

—

“I already told you, I don’t plan on drinking, I can just drive us back.” You huff on the window, drawing small shapes. Angry shapes. “I hate that I’m here right now, I never agreed to this.” You’re lying to yourself now, you like being around Sukuna. Even if it is a stupid frat party which you swore off from… still, you know you’re not going to have fun. 

Sukuna smiles to himself, “Yes, you did, the moment I agreed you could follow me around.” Sukuna places his hand on your head, “Don’t tell me you forgot our agreement, this is your project we’re talking about here, right?” He cooed at you. 

You feel your eyebrows mesh together, of course he’s going to use that against you. You hum, “Sure, whatever.” You scoff, keeping your eyes on the houses passing by, “I can’t believe you even have friends to invite you to these types of things in the first place.” 

Sukuna widens his eyes, “You’d be surprised.”

“Name one.” 

“There's no one you’ll know. Hopefully, you’ll meet some new people.” 

“I wish they’d be in my year.” You finally pull away from the window, leaning back in your seat with your legs crossed. “That would be nice.” 

Sukuna playfully rolls his eyes at you, “You’ll meet someone you like.”

You laugh dryly, “Sure.” The rest of the car drive is of that nature, laid back and comfortable. Riddled with small quips back and forth. 

Sukuna parks his car in the house's driveway. Which you think is rather convenient. Almost as if the spot is reserved for his car only. Which you can’t help but think is rather kind. 

Ah, yes, there once was a time where you did enjoy going to frat parties. The experimental freshman year, however, the one thing people never talked about was parking spaces. How hard it was to find one when a big party was being thrown. 

It was either Nobara parked in some random space far from the actual party, and the two of you had to walk over a block to get to the house. Or, show up a few hours earlier, avoiding the whole thing all together. While also helping the host get things ready.

Which is so incredibly embarrassing. 

You push the door open, and place your feet on the floor. Being careful to keep everything covered. Wearing skirts isn’t always the most convenient, but it is always the cutest. The particular skirt you’re wearing is a bit hard to move in. It was frilly and light. So, if you're too fast to take a turn, you’re sure you would flash people the panties you were wearing. 

Which brings up the argument, why wear it in the first place? You just really like how your ass looks in it, and that’s reason enough. 

Then, there’s your shirt, a piece of clothing you and Yuuji picked out together. You had taken too long picking out a skirt, only to give up and ask for his opinion on a shirt, which you’re more than happy you did. It's a crop top long sleeve. Over the shoulder while the material bunched up between your boobs in a loose tie. You amend Yuuji for this one. 

Your perfume was sweetly smooth, almost like vanilla. You also made sure to wear the jewelry Sukuna had yet to take back from you, almost in a taunting fashion. You threw on some bracelets to mix up the fun. 

Sukuna’s by your side, pushing his hair back with his hand. “Hope you’ll have fun.” He smiles to himself, walking towards the door’s entrance, “Your stuck up ass needs a few drinks.” You swear you hear him mumble, ‘I do, too.’

You tap the back of your hand hard, your eye twitching for a moment as you slowly follow Sukuna towards the porch. You can feel the music's vibration. It feels like it’s vibrating within you, which isn’t a feeling you were fond of–just grew to tolerate. Besides, after a few drinks, you’re sure it will tune out of your brain. 

Waiting at the door with Sukuna, you can’t help but notice the odd stares the few people outside are giving you. This time, you can confidently say it’s you they’re looking at, but you do your best to ignore them. Besides, they’re not even in the house. Why does it matter to them?

Sukuna’s quick to meet the person standing by the door, passing them a quick boyish smile. The guy passes an equally boyish grin back, he passes a glance at you, “Brought someone? That’s new.”

“A friend.” Sukuna leans in, and you swear that you see him mouth, ‘Babysitting.’

The man laughs, “Sure, whatever. Another friend.” The guy sarcastically remarks, he opens the door, eyeing you up and down, “Go have fun, gorgeous.” 

You pass him an uncomfortable smile. Oh. How lovely. You just know freshman year you would’ve been jumping with joy from the attention. Now, you’re a bit repulsed by it. You’re quick to pull yourself to Sukuna’s side. 

Sukuna notices your demeanor, “I feel like I should ask why you don’t like this.” He gestures his free hand around, indicating the party. “But, I’m not entirely curious.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin. 

You lean into him, thinking for a moment. “I’m choosing to ignore that last sentence.” You say, looking at the people around you. Some people pass you a kind acknowledge nod, others give you a look you can describe as envy. You wonder if it’s because you’re with Sukuna, “I feel it’s the environment...” You trail off, having trouble finding the words. 

“You mean the college life?” Sukuna sarcastically quips, smirking to himself as if he’s the funniest man alive. The things you’d do to just have ten seconds to fight him. “Just say you’re a prude, puppy.” No, twenty. 

You look at Sukuna, rolling your eyes at him. “No. I don’t know if you noticed, but this type of party isn’t for women.” You push his shoulder, “It’s for horny college boys like you.” You laugh briefly, “I mean, why else do you think the ratio between men and women is so large?”  

Sukuna shakes his head. Waving at someone, he doesn’t know who they are, but they clearly know who he is. He should feel bad, but he doesn’t. They don’t matter. 

You nod your head, “See. You’re too close minded to notice these things, ass-hole.” You sing annoyingly at him, your arm looping through his. “Aren’t you happy to have someone like me around you? Sometimes, you need a quick reality check.” 

“Happy is one hell of a way to put it.” Yet, Sukuna doesn’t push you away, he does however, pull his hand away from your grasp and put it on your waist. “But, if that makes you happy, who am I to ruin that?”

You laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sometimes, I think you should just agree with me without being a smartass.” You laugh, “It’d make me like you more.” 

“As if you don’t like me.” 

You scoff, but turn away with your face burning just a bit. “Sure. If that makes you happy, who am I to ruin that.” You mimic with a smile on your face, tilting your head back to poke his shoulder. You pull his shirt, bringing him down to your face level. “Besides, we both know you like me way more than you let on.” You smile at him. 

“Sure.” Sukuna looks away from you. 

“Just say I’m right, and I’ll praise you.” You smile at another girl, at least some people are nice here. “I mean, that’s why you come to these parties, right? To make out with anything with a pretty face.”

“I’m not.” 

“Sure, Su-ku-na.” You pull away from Sukuna, a bright TV screen catching your attention. You make your way over, leaving Sukuna to himself. Your eyes nearling sparkling at the game on the rather big TV–weren’t these college kids also broke?–and watching the careless gameplay. 

You lean on the back of the couch’s frame, letting your weight rest on it. Sukuna follows you, turning so his hand is to the couch and leaning on it alongside you. You lean into Sukuna, eyes bouncing from all four screens.

“I bet money, I can beat all these people.” You whisper, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a slut for Mario Kart.” You don’t even bother to listen to Sukuna’s reply before you're leaning into the couch. Watching these strangers horribly play, entertaining nonetheless. Yet, a part of you wonders how they can even hear each other. 

The music was so loud. 

Sukuna leans into you, “I genuinely do not understand how someone could be this bad at a game.” He laughs in your ear, “And, of all things, Mario Kart.” 

You look at him, nose practically touching, you didn’t realize you two were this close. “Don’t tell me you’re also good at Mario Kart.” You place a hand on his chest, creating a small distance between you two. 

“I’m good at everything.” 

“Ha. Ha. Right, of course you are.” You exaggerate. Yet, your eyes trail to the side, noticing a person standing to the side, yet glancing at Sukuna every now and then. Sukuna notices your distracted gaze, and follows it. However, the person is already by his side now.

For the first time ever, you watch as Sukuna lights up, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him utter splitting his lips. “Uraume!” He turns away from you, “God, how have you been? It’s been some time?” 

Uraume smiles back equally as excited, “Sukuna! It’s been some time.” They wrap their arms around him, closing their eyes for a moment. “My stove’s been quite cold since you’ve moved out, you should really come for a visit.” 

Sukuna laughs loudly. 

You can’t help but think, it wasn’t that funny… Also, that name sounds… very familiar. Uraume… Uraume… Uruame… wait? Is that the saved number— 

“Hell yeah, you know I can’t go long without you, Uraume.” He pulls away, still smiling brightly. His dimples denting into his skin, while his pearly teeth flash at Uraume.

You want him to smile at you like that. 

You can’t help but feel a bit shocked, you’ve never seen Sukuna smile like this. Smile like he’s really happy, truly pleased with the person he’s talking to. You give the person a unsure smile, “Uh, hi, I’m…” 

“Uraume..” Sukuna places a hand on Uraume’s back, your name leaving his lips with far less enthusiasm compared to theirs in an introduction. “She’s the girl I’m stuck with for the week. I’m pretty sure I texted you about her.” 

Uraume nods, “Yes, I remember.” 

You blink a few times, recalling back to when you blocked the blonde girl. Mentally noting the few saved contacts, three to be exact. Two that you’re familiar with, and one you’re not. 

Uraume. 

“I used to live with Uraume.” Sukuna tells you, boasting in a way. “Absolutely love food, and their cooking is…” Sukuna breathes out in relief. “Immaculate.”

Uraume nods, “You should’ve met him when we first moved in, you should’ve seen how picky he was.” They roll their eyes, “I used to call him Lord Sukuna, that’s how stuck up he used to be. Good thing he’s finally gotten over that phase.” 

You didn’t know that. They seem close, really close. You’re a bit jealous. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning away. You push yourself off the couch, swiping your hand down Sukuna’s chest. “I need something in my system.” 

Uraume tilts their head, “If you want, I can mix up a drink for you?” They look to the side, “Actually, I’m supposed to be making drinks outside right now for some of your friends.” 

You watch Uraume leave, a bit disheartened. 

Sukuna eyes you, “Naughty puppy, I thought you said you weren’t drinking.” He taunts you. 

You turn over your shoulder, walking backwards as you tell him. “Maybe I’d stick to my word if you weren’t up my ass calling me stupid nicknames.” You turn on your heel, making your way to the kitchen. Yet, you could’ve sworn you heard him call your name again. You wave it off, it’s a party, a loud one, you’re going to hear all sorts of things tonight. Even now, pushing through the crowd, you hear some incredibly questionable conversations happening. 

You hug yourself, as much as you love the shirt and skirt you’re wearing, you can’t help but find it a bit inconvenient. You don’t have pockets, so you have to shove your AirPods and small wallet into your bra. Leaving you with your phone in your hands.

Reaching the kitchen, you peer into the backyard through the sliding door. Catching a rather large group of people sitting and talking. Which isn’t uncommon, yet, it looks more male dominated. 

More specifically, all the women are conversing with a few individuals. He’s leaning on a bar table, drink in hand while everyone is listening to what he is saying, his friend next to him adding small comments. Or, who you assume is his friend at least. They look… familiar. 

A part of you want to join them, hear what story they’re telling. You know it clearly caught the attention of many people, so it has to be somewhat interesting, right? More specifically, women, of course. It almost entices you, you feel an urge to go and listen. See what is being said to catch the attention of so many beautiful women. Albeit, you do think one of the men talking is attractive, so that can be a reason alone. 

Yet, only certain men have the power to do that at parties. Draw crowds and have them listen. Which strikes a small feeling of curiosity and jealousy, you wish you can have that power. It would be nice to be the center of attention. 

You shake your head, turning away. It doesn’t matter.

You look at the kitchen, your eyes dancing over the array of colorful solo cups. Red, pass. Pink, DTF. Blue, taken. Green, complicated. You wonder where the hell they acquired all these colorful solo cups. 

Naturally, you would want to grab a pink one, but know better. So, you grab a boring red one, making way to a soda bottle and pouring yourself a hearty amount of soda. You’re quick to take a sip, relaxing as you lean on the counter. 

Yet, immediately tense up when someone calls your name. 

You look to the side and relief washes over your body. Maki. Thank god you know at least someone here. 

Maki looks you up and down, “Never took you as the party type. You look good, though.” She eyes the location, “Did you come with someone, or are you..” She looks at your red solo cup, “Alone?..” 

You shake your head, a small laugh leaving your lip, “No, actually, I came with Suk–” You immediately shut your mouth, eyes widening with realization. “I came with my project.” 

“Really?” Maki asks, a bit estranged. “Who is your project on, anyway? I think I already told you who mine is on.” 

You take a ginger sip, nodding. “You just said it was on your brother, you never told me his name.” You tap your foot on the ground, “Although, I have a feeling I know who he is.”  

Maki gives you an expectant look, “You mean Megumi?” She laughs a bit, tapping her finger on the marble countertop, “I thought everyone knew that, I mean? Have you seen us?” She gestures to her face.  

“I didn’t know!” You yell, a bit too loudly. You quickly tense up, holding your cup above your lips as if that was concealing you from the world. “Why would you think I would know that? We barely even talk in class.” 

“Sure. I guess you have a point.” Maki takes a sip of her drink, “Anyway, what about you? You didn’t tell me.” 

“About what?” You respond, tilting your head. 

“About who your project is about?” Maki gives you an amused look, clearly trying to hide her smile. She’s not doing that well of a job. 

“Oh! Uhm, well…” You play with the end of your skirt, “Remember those football boys who passed us? Like, forever ago?” Maki nods. You bite your lip, suppressing an unsure smile. “Well, I kinda’ got one of them to agree to my project.” 

Maki punches your shoulder playfully. “Shit, did you really seduce one of them? Didn’t take you as a temptress, although I didn’t think you were a fan of parties either.” She tilts her head, eyes skimming up and down your body, “What other secrets are you hiding from me?”

You feel your face grow hot as you turn away from her, “Gross, more like forced.” You lean into her, “Remember the guy you told me you hated?” 

Maki’s eyes widen, “No.” It comes out so exasperated, and you swear on everything, that two letter word is the most emotion Maki has ever shown. “You kidding–how did you..? Is he here?” She pulls back slightly, “I don’t believe you.” 

You nod, “Yeah, I can go look for Sukuna.” You play with the rim of your cup, your finger circling it. “I can grab him really–” 

“You’re the girl Sukuna came with, right?” A feminine but scratchy voice comes from behind you. 

That voice… it sounds… familiar. Way too familiar. You peak over your shoulder, looking at the women behind you. Your eyes widen at her figure, and blonde hair. Oh my god, it’s the girl you blocked!

No, wait, you actually recognize her. It’s the girl from back when you first moved in with Yuuji. Holy shit, what a small world. 

As soon as her brown eyes land on your face, they’re filled with anger. “Oh my fucking god, there’s no way.” She smiles mockingly at you, “Oh, shit, no, I mean…” She pushes a chuck of hair behind her shoulder, “I recognize you, you were the crazy ex.” 

You blink a few times, before shaking your head timidly. “N-No, not the crazy ex.” You take a hesitant drink of your soda, “And, Sukuna’s only had one ex back in highschool. I promise, she’s long gone.” 

Maki sharply breathes behind you, clearly laughing, before taking a quick sip of her drink. The blonde girl seems to notice this, her expression souring, “Oh, yeah. You’re right, I’m probably just mixing people up. I mean, he was hanging out with this girl like two days ago.” 

“That was probably me, too. We’ve been together all week for a project.” You tell her slowly. 

She nods, “Oh, that makes so much more sense! Sukuna wouldn’t choose to be around someone like… well.” She looks behind her at her friends, “You know… He’s not into the whole..” She gestures to you, her hand loosely referencing up and down your body. “He’s more into someone… you know.” 

You feel unsettled by her smile, “I don’t think I do?” You blink a few times, looking at Maki for a second, “I’m confused here, are you insulting me? Or, are you trying to be mean?” This is so weird, you’ve never experienced something like this before. 

She gasps dramatically, “Oh, good lord, no. Why would I be mean to you? I’m just giving you advice!” She moves in closer, “If you want, I can tell you how he likes to be sucked off. Or, what position is his favorite? Whatever you prefer, babe.” 

You shake your head slowly, “I–I’ve never done anything with Sukuna?” You wrap your arms around your body, starting to feel a bit… insecure. 

She blinks at this, her lips parting ever so slightly,  “Oh, right, that makes sense.” She turns away, letting out a breath of relief. “I really thought for a second his standard fell. Good to know they haven’t.”  

A part of you wants to bite back, say something along the lines of, ‘I don’t need to touch him, he jacks off to me when I’m right next to him.’ But, you bite your tongue and force something more pleasant out, “Yeah, it’s no wonder he blocked you. Twice.” Maki laughs behind you, which gives you some semblance of security. You pretend to think, “Actually, now that I remember, I was the one who blocked you the second time, since he asked me too.” 

The girl’s eye twitches, her demeanor crumbling before she bites her cheek with a smile, leaning back ever so slightly. “Okay, well. Tell him, since the two of you are so close now,” She wrinkles her nose with a smile, “That I’m not going to be free this weekend, but I can make it Monday.” 

“Oh, okay.” You smile, “If you want, I can make sure he doesn’t have anyone over in the meantime.” You take a sip of your drink, “I’m sure I can actually entertain him other than whoring myself out and tossing my panties to the side.” You wipe the side of your mouth with your thumb, “I’m sure he’s told you the story behind his tattoos.” 

Her fake smile seems to completely fall at this, her depression hardening into something… dark. “You fucking bitch.” She seethes at you, “He didn’t tell you shit, why the hell would he tell something like that to an ugly bitch like–”

“Awh! I told you she’s cuter up closer.” Two arms lay over your shoulders, a head resting on top of yours. “Something else is even better up close, too.” His voice is sickly playful, and he’s touching you as if the two of you had been friends for years. “And to think, Sukuna’s been purposely hiding her away from us?” His head twists to the side, clearly talking to someone that isn’t you. 

“Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want to call it.” A lazy voice responds, it sends a shiver down your spine. “Sukuna’s going to kill you if he sees you touching her, though.” He gives you a quick look, it almost looks like a silent look a girl gives you as a warning. 

Is he warning you? About… the guy hugging you? That makes sense, right? A shiver shoots down your spine when you hear him laugh above you again. He’s definitely warning you about the guy. 

The girl freezes, her eyes moving above your head. “Mahito.” She says with forced enthusiasm, an equally forced smile accompanying it. “I was just having a fun chat with–” 

“Your lying face is really ugly.” Mahito says, his hands pulling up and hugging your shoulder. He leans down, lowering his face to your ear, “You should give her some tips.” He tells you, “Maybe she’ll be as pretty as you one day.” He turns his face, and his hair tickles your cheek, “Don’t you agree, Choso?” 

There’s a slight pause, and you can only read the girl's expression across from you. It’s sour. “Yeah, maybe if you weren’t a bitch, you’d be more bearable.” Choso finally adds with a lazy shrug. 

“Ah, don’t say that, she’s not completely bitchy.” Mahito pulls off you, reaching into his back pocket. “You should see the video I have of her, so much better and cuter.” Again, you can’t stress how enthusiastic he sounds, it’s unnerving. 

Choso scowls at that, pulling away from Mahito. “Get away from me…” 

The blonde groans at Mahito, twisting on her heel and walking away. 

Instinctively, you go to thank the stranger, but immediately push yourself into the counter trying to back away from him. He’s so close, his nose is practically touching yours. “I can’t believe he’s been trying to hide you away from me, that selfish Sukuna.” His hair is a bright blue, and you start to wonder if your hair is considered normal or flashy. 

You look at Maki, only to see her equally confused. You look back at Mahito again, “Uh?... Hide me away from you? I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.” You pass him an uncomfortable laugh, leaning farther into the counter. 

“Yeah, I mean, that’s why he has you following him around campus.” Mahito blinks at you, his eyes sucking your expression and movements. Knowing that you’re off limits, something that Sukuna has purposely tried to keep away from him, has him high on excitement. “Right, Choso?” 

When you look to the side of Mahito, you feel a realization click. Choso, he’s the cute guy from earlier, along with Mahito. These were the guys in the group. “Yeah, you should’ve seen Sukuna’s face when Mahito talked about you.” He smiles to himself, taking a drink from his cup without taking his eyes off you. “Wanted to kill him.” 

You look back at Mahito, and really think. He looks familiar for a reason. 

It hits you like a truck. 

You push on Mahito’s chest, “You’re–you’re the guy who messed up Sukuna’s shoulder.” You stand up straight, “The one who tried to hurt him…” on purpose. The sentence finishes in your mind. 

Mahito smiles crudely at this, “Awh, look how scared she looks.” He pulls himself to the side, allowing Choso to look at you, “Her puppy ears are practically pulled to her head in fear, isn’t that so cute?” 

Choso seems a bit disturbed by Mahito’s antics, but just passes him a half-assed shrug. At this moment, you truly think this is karma for all the times you’ve called Yuuji a cute puppy, it just has to be. 

Mahito only smiles at this, leaning in closer to you, “C’mon, I’ll treat you like one too.” He wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “I’ll get you treats, pet you, pull you around on a leash…” He lowers his face in front of yours. “Doesn't that sound nice?”

You shakily exhale, there’s no way this is happening. “No. Why the fuck would I want that?” You look at Maki, watching as she’s moving closer to you, shoving the man off you. You just shake your head at her, “Let’s go, this guy’s a creep.” You place your cup down, grabbing Maki. 

Maki huffs, but leaves it as is. “Sure.” She pulls herself to your side, “What weirdos, I swear…” 

You just nod in agreement, but pause when you see Sukuna eyeing the place. When he notices you, he’s already by your side, “Where the fuck were you? I thought you said you were getting a drink.” He looks at your hands. 

“I was getting harassed.” You say a bit bluntly, “By a boy, and a girl.” She’s definitely not a girl’s-girl. 

Sukuna’s eyebrows pinch, his hands coming to your shoulders, “What? What the fuck do you mean? Who the hell was bothering you?” Despite his tone, his hands are actually really comforting. It’s a bit weird. 

“Uh, the girl from when I first moved in.” You tell him, which immediately garners an eyeroll. “And, the blue haired guy–Mahito, the one who hurt you on Thursday. He was like…” You look to the side, “He was bothering me.” 

Sukuna lifts his eyes from your face, and you naturally turn to look at what caught his attention. Only to close your eyes the moment something sweet and sticky hits your face, it’s wet and trails down your neck. Your skin, and hair clumping together. 

Well. Fuck me. You blink a few times, your mascara clumping together as you lift your hand to carefully wipe your eyes. Someone just threw their drink at you, and immediately your mind goes to the annoying bitch from earlier, but it’s quickly debunked by a sinister laugh. 

A boy laugh, more specifically. Because, of course it is. Mahito tosses the cup carelessly behind him, placing his hand over his lips. “Oops! Mistakes happen, dear. Let me help you with that.” He immediately goes to wipe you down, but Sukuna’s hand grabs his wrist tight. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sukuna twist his hand painfully away from you, “I’ll slam your head so hard, it’ll fix whatever fucked up mental shit is going on with you.” He shoves him away, watching Mahito stumble over his footing. 

You quickly threw your hair over your shoulder, looking down at your now red stained shirt. You blink a few times in pain, what would Yuuji think? You look back at Mahito, only to see him grinning. God, I want to punch him. 

Mahito tilts himself to look past Sukuna, “If you want, I can grab a shirt from my room. Then, you can toss your shirt in the wash.” He’s taunting you, but before you can respond, Mahito’s speaking again, “And, you might want to make a quick decision, that bright red color stains if you leave it in too long.” 

You groan, looking down at your outfit. This shirt was something you bought with your plushy-money, a spend that took way too much will power to swipe your card on. Yet, you did because you thought it would be nice to treat yourself. 

Which means, it was an absurd amount of money. 

You shake your head, “I need it washed now.” You can feel the sticky liquid seeping down your body, collecting into your skirt. “I really like this shirt.” 

Sukuna shoves Mahito away, not letting him respond as he tosses Maki his keys, “There’s an extra shirt in my trunk, bring it to the washroom.” He places his hand on your back, “Here, let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

You just nod. 

——

Frat parties aren’t my thing. You chant in your head like a prayer, hugging yourself. It has been over half an hour, and Maki still hadn’t turned up with the shirt. So, Sukuna decided it was best to give you his shirt–the only one he was wearing–while your clothing washed within the first five minutes of waiting. 

So, that’s how your day is going. Sitting on top of a washing machine, in a random frat boy laundry room, practically naked, while Sukuna stands shirtless three feet away from you. Truely how you envision every Friday night to turn out as. 

You can feel your face burning at the close proximity. It feels worse than Thursday, at least you were clothed, but now you’re probably equally as naked. God, this is horrible, you genuinely can’t handle this anymore. Luckily, the muffled music and rumble of the washing machine clouds your mind. 

You sigh, crossing one leg over the other as you lean back. Enjoying the vibrations over the lower half of your body. Like a nice massage on your legs and thighs. When the door props open, an unsure version of your name follows. 

You pop up, tilting your name at the person, “Maki?” You ask, tilting your head. “Is that you?” Please be Maki, please be Maki. You genuinely can’t stand the idea of being in a quiet room with a shirtless Sukuna any longer. 

“Yeah.” She pokes her hand in the room, a shirt and key attached. “I thought Sukuna’s car would be parked around the block, not on the fucking drive way.” She laughs, but it’s littered with pain and exhaustion, “Imagine my horror when I spent thirty minutes running around the block only for it to be here.” 

You pass her an awkward laugh, pushing yourself off the machine and grabbing the things. “Thanks Maki, I totally owe you one, babe.” She waves you off, “Sorry, again, I’ll see you at class.” You pass her a polite goodbye, before shutting the door and locking it. 

You sigh, letting your head fall on the door with a soft thud. “I hate this.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Sukuna sighs alongside you.

You turn to look at him, “I don’t know what to say.” You move back to the washing machine, pushing yourself to move atop of it again. “Maybe… you have shitty friends?” You place his keys on a shelf. 

“They’re not my friends.” Sukuna says, closing his eyes and trying to relax. 

“I told you, you didn’t have friends.” Uraume flashes through your head, and you feel that sting of jealousy again. You drape the extra shirt over your lap. “I guess except for Uraume.” You turn away from him, “I’ve never seen you smile like that, were the two of you–”

“No.” Sukuna stops you, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” 

You flinch, quickly looking back at Sukuna, “What? Why the hell would I be jealous?” You furrow your eyebrows, your face burning up. “Gross.” You stick your tongue out dramatically, pretending to gag. 

Sukuna finally opens one of his eyes to look at you, “Whatever.” He closes them again, “If you don't like me, just say that. It’s annoying to deal with you being a bi–” He stops himself, your name slipping your lips as a correction. 

You find it funny, a small laugh leaving your lips, “I don’t like the blonde girl, the one from where I first moved in.” You lean back, softly swinging your legs back and forth. “She totally tried embarrassing me earlier.” 

“She’s here?” Sukuna asks, almost tiredly, “God she’s annoying, it’s why I blocked her.” He laughs to himself, “I swear, the unsaved numbers are always the most annoying.” 

“She told me she can’t make it this weekend, but is free Monday.” You look at Sukuna, “She thinks we’re sleeping together, too.” 

“Oh, okay.” Sukuna opens his eyes at you, “Did you tell her we are?” 

“No, I told her I could entertain you without being a whore.” You look down, playing with his shirt on your lap, “And, I kinda’ implied it, too. Maybe…” You bit the inside of your cheek, a small pout forming on your lips. “She just bothered me..” 

Sukuna’s shoulders jump up, before a quick breath of air leaves his lips. You snap your head at his face, watching as his hand presses over his lips, trying to hide his laugh. “S-Seriously? You let that annoying bitch get to you?” He is laughing between his sentences. 

You can feel your face burning up even more, “Don’t–I didn’t let her get to me!” You turn away, “I just didn’t like the way she was talking to me, or about you...” But, she did get to you. 

It’s true, in some weird sense. Maybe, Sukuna didn’t find you that attractive, and all you are to him is his little brother’s annoying friend. It’s true he masturbated to you, once, but that’s when you first moved in. You were new and shiny, now you’re just his roommate. 

Maybe, she’s right. 

Sukuna laughs one final time, shaking his head. “Cute.” He tilts his head to the side, “You’d be a good girlfriend.” He gives you a playful look, it’s something you’ve never seen before. A bit of a boyish smile.

You absolutely love it. “I’m a good friend, is what you mean to say.” 

Sukuna shrugs, “Maybe. Besides, you’re way hotter, I already know she said something about being my type.” He rolls his eyes, “She only says that because I said she had interesting hair.” 

You shrug, recalling her hair color. “Blonde. Do you have a thing for blondes?” 

Sukuna seems to laugh loudly at that, “She’s not a real blonde. So, I don’t know why she boasts so much about it. But, I honestly don’t care.” He looks at you, his eyes moving to your hair. “You have interesting hair, by the way.” 

You roll your eyes and grab his shirt, lifting it. “I can’t take you seriously shirtless, come get dressed.” You push your hair behind your shoulders. 

Sukuna looks down at his body, before laughing to himself and pushing himself off the wall. He’s quick to say, “Dress me.” 

You give him a questionable look, “Dress yourself.” But, you’re still bunching his shirt together, sticking your hands through the collar. “C’mere.” You naturally spread your legs for him, wanting to give him room.

Sukuna exhales, slotting himself between your thighs. His hands rest on top of them, soft despite their big size. It’s softer than he’s ever touched you before. “I feel like a kid.” He whispers. 

“You asked for this.” You scoot closer to him, and his hands slide to your waist. You lift your hands, looping the collar through his head. Sukuna pokes his head in with his eyes closed, before opening them back up to look at you once the shirt hung from his neck. 

“You’re soft.” He squeezes you a bit harder, his pupils wide. “Smell good, too. What type of perfume are you wearing?” He looks so… pretty. 

It’s so cute, so domestic and sweet. You’ve never seen this side of Sukuna, “Do you… want to feel more?” You lower your hands to his, pushing them down and under his shirt. His fingers ghosts your bare hips and stomach. “You can.” 

Sukuna sighs, his eyes fluttering for a moment, “Fuck…” He places his head on your shoulder, his nose tickling your neck. “This is so weird.” This is so hot. 

You giggle, “Yeah, you’re acting weird—different.” You lift your arms around his shoulders. 

“I feel like I’m going to break you if I touch too hard.” Yet, Sukuna wants to do that, he wants it so fucking bad, it’s driving him insane. He genuinely feels like he’s losing his mind, “But, I want that.” 

You look down, your lashes fluttering. 

“..Me too.” 

Sukuna feels himself snap. His hand tearing away from your waist, and grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. One that he’s been dying to have. Groaning against your as the hand on your waist pulls your body flush against him. 

You softly gasp. Before wrapping your legs around his torso, pulling him closer to you as your hands tangle in his hair. It’s so soft, and he feels so nice against you. His lips are perfect, moving against yours in a way you’ve been dreaming of.  

Yet, you’re surprised by how sweet it is, slow and a bit sloppy. He’s treating you carefully, his lips more passionate and longing more than anything else. Sukuna moans into you, his thumb resting behind your ear while his fingers lift the back of your head. Clearly trying to make it easier to kiss you deeper.

“Fuck, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve been wanting to do this.” Sukuna’s trying to control himself, he wants to be nice with you, he really wants to be sweet and treat you like glass, but he wants to absolutely ruin you, too. He wants to see you cry and moan, he wants everything to be filthy and dirty. 

You give him a quick kiss, before pulling away. “W-Why didn’t you?... I–I thought you–you hated me?...” You grab the shirt and toss it off Sukuna, pressing another kiss into his lips while the shirt is covering his eyes. 

Sukuna smiles against you, “You think too fucking much.” He tosses the shirt to the side, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you into him. “Jump, I want to feel you… closer.” 

You immediately listen, applying your weight on Sukuna while he carries you, twisting the two of you so his back is on the washing machine and resting his weight on it. You go to kiss him again, only pause when his hand grabs your jaw. “Wait, puppy.” 

Your lashes flutter at his harsh actions, your stomach flutters with a shivering sensation, something about his harsh actions is… really hot. You can feel your knees hit the top of the washing machine as Sukuna sits on it, your thighs sinking into his as you sit in his lap. 

You can feel him underneath you, you can feel his cock perfectly between your legs, and it makes you dizzy. You just want to… move, or push your hips forward to get a little bit of friction. Something to satisfy your sopping pussy. 

“Can I?...” You place your hands on his chest, moving your hips forward. Immediately a satisfied sigh leaves your lips. He feels thick between your lips spreading you open, your clit catching perfectly and creating delicious friction. You let your forehead rest on his shoulder, you wish you could feel it. Without your panties in the way. 

Sukuna looks down for a moment, a shaky breath leaving his lips. “Oh, of course babe, take what you need.” He places his hands on your thighs, letting his fingertips ghost under the shirt you’re wearing. Grabbing your hips and working your pussy against his dick print. “And don’t stop fucking stop, I want to watch you.”

The idea of Sukuna watching this–watching you, makes your body warm. Knowing that he’s getting off to you, and your body is gratifying. It’s you who he’s thinking of, and it’s you who he wants right now. It’s almost feel rewarding, after all the shit he’s put you through, after all these days of being an asshole, he’s finally warming up to you. In the best way possible. 

You nod, “Okay, I want you to–to watch.” You push your lips against his, giving him a quick kiss. “Wanna’ make you feel good, too.” Sukuna just smirks against you, kissing you back with a sloping tone, before pulling away. 

“Yeah?” He places his hands behind him, leaning back and lifting his hips into you. “Fucking make me feel good, slut.” He looks down at where the two of you connect shamelessly, “Don’t use that smart brain of yours either, let this control you.” He rolls his hips into you, groaning when you join him in the motion. 

Who fucking new grinding was this amazing. 

You whimper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you grab the bottom of Sukuna’s shirt, and pull it up your torso, revealing the panties you’re wearing to Sukuna’s perverse eyes. He instantly groans, drinking up the way you’re absolutely soaking. Fuck, he wants to fucking ruin you, do shit that will ruin you for the rest of your life. Make it so the only cock that can get you off is his, and his alone. 

You pull the shirt off your body, tossing it behind you. Sukuna takes this time to press open kisses on your cleavage. His finger hooking around the middle band of your bra, tugging it down to let your tits bounce out of their confinements. He groans at the sight, his dick swelling underneath your cunt. 

He moves to cup one, “Fuck, the things I’ve thought about doing to these.” He kisses around your nipples, his tongue working around them. “Been dying to look at them, knew they’d be perfect.” He finally licks a strip up your nipple, sucking on them to emulate pleasure throughout your body. You pussy throbbing against his dick. He can fucking feel you, he can feel how nasty you are by liking what he’s doing to you. 

You’re a bit gone, head feeling cloudy and heavy, almost as if you’re going to faint. It’s almost too much, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re just grinding on him like a desperate slut, happy with any type of attention he’s giving you. But, you love it, it feels so good, it’s amazing. His dick rubbing between you, and his tongue working at your tits. You want to feel it inside, you want to feel–you can’t even… you just want him inside you, anything inside of you.

One of Sukuna’s hands harshly grabs your cheeks, forcing you to look up as his mouth moves to your collarbone. His free hand continues to work your hips into him, loving how you’re ruining his pants. If there’s one thing that Sukuna absolutely loves about sex. 

The depravity. When a girl cries over his cock, or loses any sense of reality from how good she feels. When drools or strings of silva coat his cock or lips, the sheets or any surface are absolutely ruined. Sukuna wants to see you crumble into that sense of pleasure, and pain. Feel the very lows so that the highs are absolutely blinding. 

Sukuna’s fingers hook underneath your jaw, his hot tongue sliding over your collar bones, forcing your hips to twitch, then still. Clearly a bit shocked by his actions. Sukuna laughs a bit, before rolling his tongue all the way up to your chin, his mind high on your soft squeaks. He needs to fucking taste you right now. 

“Stick out your tongue.” Sukuna’s fingers pull you back down to look at him, his thumb hooking around the corner of your mouth. You immediately follow his directions, your pink tongue falling out of your mouth. Sukuna nods, “Fuck yeah, that’s a good slut.” Immediately his tongue rolls under yours, wrapping around in a circle.

It feels so nasty, like he's doing whatever he wants to you, but it feels so good at the same time. Degrading your mind into nothing but a pile of mush as you just do as he says. You can feel your split mixing with his, his taste clouding your mind. It feels so good. You moan, your lashes fluttering while rocking your hips. So–so good. 

Sukuna laughs at you, nodding his head, “Yeah, I know you like this shit… becoming a stupid mess on my dick, and I haven’t even done anything?” He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a string of silva pulling and falling on your thigh. “Want me to make you feel good?”

You nod dumbly, naturally following his face for more sloppy kisses, if you could even call them that, before soft moan tears throw you. His wet thumb is carefully slotted right above your throbbing clit. You silva wets your cloth underwear to create a small wet stain. 

You sigh, melting into his touch, your cunt rubbing against his clothed dick. You gasp when his thumb starts moving, circling your clit slowly yet pressured. A perfect in between that has your thighs trembling. 

Sukuna laughs again, nodding his head, “That’s right, that’s right. Just relax, let me use you.” He whispers, pressing kisses into your ears and cheeks, “You want that, right? To become my fuck toy, a hole for me to fuck for however long and hard I want?” You nod thoughtlessly. “Yeah, I know, baby, I know. You want me to use you, fuck you so hard you’re begging me to stop, right? Don’t you want that?” 

You fist your hands around his shoulder, “Y-Yes, puh-please, I want that… I-I want you!” You let your body rest on his, soaking up his warm body heat. It’s suffocating as much as it is dizzying. “Please, I wa–wanna’ co–I wanna…” You babble.

“I know, I know… You want to relax, forget about your studies and anxieties, and just lose yourself in pleasure.” Sukuna mumbles in your ear, “I know how good it feels, you just relax f’me, okay? I promise, you won’t have to use your pretty puppy-brain for any of this.” 

You just nod, resting your forehead on his shoulder while his thumb works pleasurable circles into your clit. “Yeah, just like, doll.” He kisses your shoulders, “So fuckin’ glad you let me do this before the week ended.” 

For some reason, that clears your head a bit. “Wh-What?” You let out a deep sigh, pushing your hips into his thumb. “What does… th-that mean?..” You moan again. 

Sukuna laughs a bit, but it sounds unsure. “You know, this is the last week–”

You stumble on your feet, bumping into the wall across from the washing machine. Your breath is uneven, your lips a bit swollen. Your lips part as your breathing grows in severity, your eyes glazing over. “You’re joking… y-you’re joking, right?” You sniff, “You didn’t just do all that with me, knowing it wasn’t going to change anything–knowing that you’re just not going to talk to me anymore.” 

Sukuna looks… indescribable. 

You furrow your eyebrows, “Talk to me!” You seethe, your tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re telling me, that you were just going to fuck me, then still say we made a ‘deal?’ Were you planning to pull that shit on me after we…” You groan, lifting your head and whipping your tears. 

Sukuna whispers your name, but it isn’t comforting, it isn’t even to draw your attention, it sounds more like a warning compared to anything. “Don’t be like that, we’ve talked about this.” He pushes himself off the washing machine, taking a step closer to you. 

You shake your head, fixing your bra. “Get out.” You bite the inside of your cheek, looking at your feet. “I can’t look at you right now.” You push around him, looking at the washing machine, seeing that the clean cycle has finished. 

“It’s not like that.” Sukuna tells you, “I’m just…” He groans. 

“I told you to get out.” You toss his shirt at his face, opening the washing machine and grabbing your clothing. It’s damp, it’s cold, but it smells good, and the stain is gone. “Go to the car, wait for me there.” Sukuna says your name, but you shake your head. 

Then, you’re alone. You’re alone in a dumb, and hot laundry room. The music pounding in your head, with your clothing damp in your hands. Your feet are in pain from wearing heels, and your body is sweaty and littered with marks. You feel… used. 

You sit down on the floor, your eyes blurring with wet tears. 

—

Sukuna is… he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He’s just sitting in his car, leaning back on the headrest, and waiting for you to come back. He feels like he’s fucked up, but at the same time–fuck, he doesn’t know how he feels. 

However, Sukuna knows one thing for certain, he feels like shit, and his body is riddled with anxiety. It’s been such a long time since he’s felt like this–well, he’s feeling a lot of things right now, but those are the only things he can pinpoint. 

Sukuna flinches when the door pops open, you name almost slipping your mouth, only for Uraume to make a questionable face at him. “Sukuna? Weren’t you here with a girl?” They look in the back seat, “Where is she?”

Sukuna cringes, “Uh, getting changed in the laundry room.” He looks away from Uraume, hands on the wheel. 

“You left her–” Uraume pauses, narrowing their eyes at Sukuna, “Why do you look like that?” 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like shit, Sukuna, like shit.” Uraume says with an emotionless face, they close their eyes leaning back for a moment, “I swear… What did you do to her? She seems nice, too.” They sigh, pouting slightly, “Why would you do that to the girl you like, Sukuna?” 

“What?” 

Uraume smiles, leaning on the door, “What?” They tilt their head to the side, giving Sukuna a smug look, “You’re telling me you don’t like her? I thought that’s why you introduced me to her?” 

Sukuna looks to the house, “I–” He sighs, trying to phrase his words, he has so much to say, but he has no clue on how to say it. “Uraume, I think, I–”

“Excuse me.” You softly say. 

Uraume blinks a few times, taking a step back. They bow their head for a moment, “Apologies.” They hold the door open with you, their face emotionless, a stark contrast to when you first met them, “I hope to see you again.” 

You just nod, clicking your seatbelt on. 

Uraume passes Sukuna a knowing look, before allowing him to pull out of the driveway. Passing the two of you a final wave. Which isn’t returned by any of you. 

You shiver, hugging yourself as you lean on Sukuna’s car door. You feel bad about wetting Sukuna’s seats, but you don’t have anything to cover them, and it wasn’t your fault Mahito decided to be an asshole. 

And, it isn’t your fault Sukuna is an asshole. 

You feel the heater turn on, the cold air hitting you first, before slowly turning warm. It feels nice. You can hear Sukuna adjust himself in his seating, before you shake your head, “Don’t say anything to me.” Telling him that makes you feel absolutely terrible. 

Sukuna opened up to you, spent time with you, and fixed his terrible temper–just a bit–because you told him too. It’s endearing, you’ve seen a glimpse into his mind, and a reason behind his actions or why he is the way he is. 

But, it still hurts. It hurts so fucking much. It hurts even more when Sukuna calls your name once the two of you arrive home. Yet, you ignore him in favor of returning to your room. 

You stay quiet. 

Next Chapter: Ch. 5 - "Good Guy."

Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l

#Silent Love: Sukuna x Reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader smut #sukuna x reader smut

[smut-slut69]

Spoken Onto Deaf Ears

Kinktober 2023|Day 4 ~ Praise Kink

Words: 2.1k

Pairing: !nerd!Miguel O’Hara x !Popular!reader

Summary: The reader and Miguel are fuck buddies with lines blurring dangerously close to a relationship. When Miguel crosses one of those lines the reader looses it and almost looses the one she loves most in her lonely life. Good thing she finds a way to get him back.

“Can we go out?” Miguel asked.

You turn around looking at him with wide eyes, “What?”

He blushes, his nerves returning to him. “You know what I mean, like, can we go out on a date?” he asked again.

Your eyes stayed glued on him as a smile twitched on the edges of your lips. Miguel smiled too, he thought that was a good sign until you burst out laughing.

Miguel frowned at you, the sparkle that usually shined in his eyes whenever he looked at you dulling a little, “What's so funny?” he tried to chuckle along with you hoping to get the joke too.

It took a while for you to calm down before you answered him, swiping a tear from under your eye, “You are hilarious O’hara, thanks for the laugh, I needed it”. You said, reaching to push open his side of the car door, “You can go now, I’ll call you when my next chem essay is due. “

You pulled down your mirror to fix up your lip gloss as you waited for him to leave your car. But much to your annoyance when you flipped your mirror back up, he was still sitting there, staring at you.

“Okay O’Hara you were funny for a second but now you’re getting annoying, I have a party to get to and you’re holding me up” you sneered.

He sighed pulling up the rest of his courage, “You know I wasn’t joking right,” he started, “I want to go on a date with you” he explained.

You looked at him and rolled your eyes, “I know, that you should know better than to ask me stupid questions” you scoffed.

“What’s so stupid about that question, this-” he gestures between the two of you, “has been going on for months, it's not stupid to want something more with you” he expressed.

“First of all, watch your fucking tone, you know who you're talking to,” you said.

“Oh so now because I’m expressing myself to you I have a ‘tone’” he laughed, but there was no hint of joy in it.

“You’re doing entirely too much, I don’t do feelings and you know that. And even If I did do them, do you think I’d walk around with a fucking nerd who walks around campus in hand-me-downs because he can’t afford anything better” you snapped at him, only for the weight of what you just said to crash over your shoulders moments later.

You knew exactly why he walked around like that and you knew it wasn’t something to use as leverage in an argument. Through your confusing relationship, you had learned why he was the only person at your university who wasn’t here off of daddy’s money. He earned a scholarship to your school, the program allowing him a good dorm to stay in, which meant a lot for him because he had nowhere else to go after he was forced to leave his home when his father kicked him out.

The hurt look on Miguel's face sent an unfamiliar pang to your heart. A part of you wanted to reach over and caress his cheek, to tell him that you didn’t mean the words you let slip through and that you thought his clothes were adorable. But the part of you that treasured your reputation more than anything outweighed that, so you did the only thing you were good at, being an asshole. To him.

“The fuck are you staring at O’hara,” you spoke, “get your ass out of my car” you snapped, turning away from you. He did as you asked, grabbing his stuff and leaving.

He didn’t look back at you once.

________________

The following week was normal, you went to parties, went shopping, and pretended to understand what was going on in classes. But there was one thing off this week, Miguel hadn’t texted you back.

He always texted you back.

On Monday your physics instructor gave you all a paper due by Friday and you had texted him to come over and do it for you.

It was Wednesday and he still hasn’t texted you back and he dared to leave you on read. He had never acted like this before, never not listened to you. Him drifting away from you scared you, not because you would fail half of your classes, but for reasons you refuse to admit. You did not miss O’Hara, if he didn’t want to talk to you that was his problem.

That’s what you had been telling yourself all week, that's what you told yourself when you left class on Thursday and found yourself walking right towards his dorm room, and that's what you told yourself as you knocked on his dorm room door, arms crossed as you waited for him to answer.

You dropped your arms to your side when you heard heavy footsteps approach, the door swinging open and Miguel appearing. He froze when he saw you, a frown settling on his face, “What are you doing here Y/n?” he sighed.

You opened your mouth to speak only to shut your mouth when you realized you weren’t sure. You hadn’t had a plan when you were on your way over, you weren’t even sure why you were over here in the first place. You had said it yourself that you didn’t miss him.

At your silence, Miguel shrugged his shoulders, “If you’re not going to say anything I'm going back to my homework” he spoke, closing the door. Panic flashed through your eyes, you didn’t want him to leave yet, you pressed a hand against his door, uttering the only words you could think of, “Physics” you spoke, getting Miguel's attention again, “I have a physics paper due tomorrow” you explained.

“Well, that’s not my problem anymore, is it? Get one of your bratty friends to help you. You can be seen around them can’t you” he snapped back, his tone took you by surprise, he had never spoken to you like that before.

He tried to close the door on you, but you used all your strength to push past him.

“Miguel, don’t be like that, you know none of them are as smart as you” you spoke.

He groaned when you pushed your way into his dorm, opting for going back to his work as he knew you wouldn't stop bothering him anytime soon.

“I don’t remember asking you to come in,” he sneered.

You frowned, physics paper long forgotten “Why are you being so mean to me”.

“I’m just paying back the treatment I’ve been getting for the past eight months” he spoke. You rolled your eyes, it had been nine but who’s counting?

“You are such a drama queen, look I’m sorry you were so hurt by what I said but it doesn’t mean we should stop talking. We can still make whatever this thing is work”

This time it was Miguel who burst out laughing, “You know that wasn’t an apology right?”

You sigh, “Cut me some slack O’hara, You know I don’t apologize”

“Yes I know, you don’t care about anyone enough to apologize for being shitty to them”

“That's not true!” you argued.

He spun around in his chair to face you, “Then apologize to me right now. Say you’re sorry for how you treat me”

You look everywhere but his face, he made it sound so easy but it wasn’t for you. Your pride was something you weren’t willing to give up. If only you didn’t have to say it, showing him how much you care by taking care of him all the time.

A smile tugged at your lips as an idea formed in your head, giving you a sprinkle of hope. You let your jacket slide down your shoulders, leaving you in a skimpy tank top and a short skirt. You walked closer to Miguel whose eyes bore right into yours. Gently, hoping he wouldn’t pull away, you caressed his cheek, not realizing how much you had missed doing so.

You swooped down and kissed him, hoping he got the message you were trying to send him. You poured your whole heart and soul into the kiss, hoping he understood that you were so sorry to the point that you hadn’t been able to sleep well because of the guilt always churning in your stomach. You hoped he could feel just how much you cared for him, how these few days without him hurt your soul.

When you pulled away you rested your head against his, whispering, so low that you struggled to hear, “I’m sorry” you spoke. “I’m not good with words but let me show you, please”.

He sighed, leaning forward to kiss your lips lightly, “Okay” he whispered. Silence filled the room as he wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you firmly as he kissed you. You kissed him strongly just as you always did, the way that had him getting hard in his sweatpants embarrassingly quickly. The type of kiss that made him weak for you, that let you have his way with him.

Miguel let you blindly guide him towards his bed, watching breathlessly as you pushed him against his bed frame. You crawled over him, kissing all over his face before kissing down his neck. The moans you drew from him were everything you had missed, the expression on his face making you smile.

Your hand trailed down his chest to the obvious tent in his pants, gripping it in your manicured hands through his pants. You leaned in to plant another kiss on his lips, “Did you miss me baby” you asked against his lips.

He whimpered at your ask, nodding as you reached into his sweatpants to pull him out. He was already ready for you, cock standing tall and pretty just as it always did when he was with you. You leaned over to kiss his ear, “Have I ever told you how pretty your cock is baby, It’s so big, it can barely fit my mouth around it”. He shivered at your words, loads of precum squirting onto your hands. You stroked him softly, using your thumb to swipe over his tip.

“Take off your shirt for me baby”

He indeed, eagerly lighting the fabric over his head and throwing it on the floor. “You’re so handsome, listening to me so well” you praised. You watched carefully as his muscles contracted with each swipe of your thumb.

“Aww, look at you, you’re so sensitive” you mused, speeding up your strokes.

Miguel through his head back at the feeling, your fingers having him see stars. It hadn’t been long at all since you touched him, but he had missed you. The feeling of you was sending him farther over the edge faster than he wanted. He grasped your arm, pleading to stop rolling off his tongue. You slowed your strokes, looking up at him, “I want to finish inside” he expressed”.

You smiled, “I suppose I can allow it, you deserve a prize” You smiled. You moved off of him to quickly pull your skirt down, moving on him just as quickly as you had gotten off. As much as you would like to say you weren’t lonely without him, you were in many ways.

Slowly you positioned him at your entrance, sinking on him. You leaned on him, giving yourself the few seconds you always needed to adjust to him. “You’re so big baby” you huffed as you started moving your hips, grinding against him so he hit that wonderful spot inside of you. “You make me feel so good, the only cock that can make me feel this way” you moaned into his ear.

His hands shot to your ass, moving you along him, the praise making him twitch inside you. “I love your cock so much baby, you feel so good” you moaned. The praise spurred him on, making him drive his cock into your pussy on his own accord, forgoing the idea of you riding him. Your hands massaged your tits as he fucked into you. You moaned out as you felt your legs shake the harder he fucked you. “Oh my god, M-miguel don’t stop,” you moaned.

And he didn’t, even when he shot a load inside of you he kept going, stuffing his cum farther into you, ignoring the way he felt an overwhelming sensation of overstimulation from the way your walls squeezed around him.

“Fuck baby, I’m gonna cum” you whined.

“Please do” he begged. His whiny tone was all you needed to be shot over the edge. You slumped onto him as you shook, another load of his cum spurting into you, stuffing you full. “Oh my god baby you did so good” you praised.

“Did Mommy make you feel good?” you asked, he nodded, nuzzling into your neck.

You two fell asleep on each other, you lying awake with his head on your chest. He was long asleep, cuddling adorably onto you. You let your lips kiss his forehead, smiling at your sweet boy. “I’m so sorry” you whispered into his hair.

“I love you”

Sorry I’m a little late guys. I wrote this in a horny haze so sorry for any spelling mistakes. Hope you enjoyed!

#miguel x y/n #miguel x black reader #!nerd!miguel #popular reader #miguel x reader #miguel x reader smut #miguel x you #miguel smut #miguel x black reader smut #miguel o'hara

[37-drc89]

painting with h. hyunjin

This week really did you and your boyfriend dirty. Everyday you would come home yawning, shoulders slump, complaining about how much you dream of getting into the bed. You find Hyunjin at your shared apartment, already grumpy, most likely splashed on the couch looking absolutely dead. You would just lay down on his back, nuzzling face into his hair. The drama king he is, Hyunjin would whine in fake pain, throwing you off of him, just to grab your tired body and lock it tightly in between his arms. Usually you fell asleep like this, having to rush yourself the morning after to take a shower and do everything people normally do after work. Monday, tuesday, wednesday and thursday, they all looked like this, they all felt like world just chew you up and spit you out on the ground for no reason.

But today's friday. The only thing keeping you alive at work was thought of weekend starting, knowing that your boyfriend stays home with you for these two days and you can have him all to yourself. Maybe that's why you got just slightly disappointed when you found him sitting in front of a blank canva with all his painting set already on the table. Of course, you absolutely adored Hyunjin's artwork and watching him focused on his hobby was your favorite thing to look at, ever. You once spent four hours just admiring his relaxed face, eyes wandering around the canva and brushes making soft, comforting sounds swiping on it. Obviously, Hyunjin wouldn't be himself if he didn't complain about it, trying to move your face the other way or throwing random shirt at your head so you don't stare at him so deeply, but the truth is, he liked the attention. He would always pretend it annoys him, but he wouldn't change it for the world. However, today it's you who needs his attention. The whole day you've been thinking about being in his warm embrace and watching some scary movies or comedies. But you know Hyunjin values his private space, especially when he's creating things. You couldn't help but frown, only patting his shoulder softly as a greeting, not to interrupt him. You go to your shared bedroom and slump yourself on the bed, sighing into the pillow. You play some podcast and let yourself sink into the softness of the covers. Not even half an hour passed when you started tossing and turning in desperate need of your boyfriend's presence. You quietly make your way to the livingroom, the only sound coming from it is Hyunjin's calm playlist playing from the phone. His eyes don't catch you standing in the door frame, too focused on his progressing artwork.

"Hyune," you mumble something barely above the whisper, taking small steps towards his sitting figure. You start playing with the ends of his hair, scared that any more physical touch might distract him at the moment.

"Hm?" his attention immediately goes to you and your heart melts a little. He once told you, you're the only one he would ever pause working for, and that's true, he could never ignore you.

"Can I stay here with you for a second? I miss you," your arms carefully wrap themselves around his shoulders and your chin rests on top of his head. Hyunjin leans into your touch slightly, short chuckle leaving his mouth.

"Do you want to try painting with me, buttercup?" he asks looking up at you and your eyes go wider, taken aback by his offer.

"I can? Won't I disturb you?" in response he just grabs your hands and guide you in front of him, pulling you onto his lap. His chin finds its place on your right shoulder and he takes your hand, forcing a brush in between your fingers. Hyunjin guides your hand to the canva and you try to stop it with your own strength. Before you can manage to say "I'll ruin it", or "I don't want to force you to anything" he just grabs your head with his other hand and turns it, pressing his soft lips onto yours, succesfully shushing you. You melt into the kiss instantly, finally getting your desired attention. "Shut up," is the only thing he says after pulling away, sending you the warmest smile you've ever seen and you feel like every worry bothering you since last week washes away. So you let him guide your hand as he pleases, after some time letting it go, grabbing his own brush and painting along with you, making your shared masterpiece. He helps you with every unfortunate stain of paint or wrongly mixed colors, laughing it off, nothing but love burning in his eyes when your face gets flustered or angry at your mistakes. Hyunjin praises your part a lot, paying his attention into the smallest details, clearly impressed by the amount of effort you put into the painting.

After all, it's now hung above your shared bed, exposed like a masterpiece it is, for everyone to see. And Hyunjin has never been more proud of any of his artworks, no matter how good they looked. Because this one he created with you, with the love of his life.

masterlist

#skz au #skz imagines #stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids scenarios #skz #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin stray kids #hyunjin drabbles #stray kids x reader #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin fanfic

[spicyclover]

Hey! Would you like to write one for Charles where he can't drive his normal car (for whatever reason), so he asks the reader for help, but she's kind of nervous and thinks there will be some judging? 😅

Bad Tooth

Summary: A dentist appointment and a ride home.

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

If there's one thing Charles doesn't like, it is the dentist. He hates it. Even as a child, he would do anything to not go. But after spending a week with an abominable toothache, he is unfortunately forced to.

To be honest, you forced him. You couldn’t take off his complaints anymore, all day, and after treating him like a baby so he’d understand, he finally made an appointment.

So that’s why you find yourself in the dentist’s parking lot arguing for Charles to get out of the car.

"Charles, please can we get out?"

"No, I feel way better now."

"That's a lie. You know it. I know it. Everybody knows it. Do I have to take you by the hand like the child you are?" He evaluates your proposition before saying anything else.

"That's not fair," he wines before getting out of the car, acting like the child he is.

You chuckle a bit before following his step to the dentist's office. You waited for a few minutes before the dentist was ready to see Charles. Before going, he looks at you with puppy eyes, imploring you to say something. But you just rolled your eyes and pushed him to the man.

The appointment took longer than expected, and you start to worry. You go up to the receptionist and ask for an update.

"Hi, sorry to bother you, but do you know what going on with M.Leclerc?"

"Give me a minute," You wait by the desk while she goes behind. You’re wondering if what he’s got is worse than you thought. "Thank you for waiting, so Mr. Leclerc is currently under anesthesia, and the dentist is removing two wisdom teeth. The surgery should end in five minutes, and then you can go home."

"Wisdom teeth?"

"Yes, apparently it was quite bad. The doctor will get to you soon."

You thank her and get back to your seat. "So he wasn't pretending... Oops." You might have thought he was lying when he started complaining about it, and you guessed it was one of his many schemes to get your attention. "Well, we can all be wrong sometimes."

The dentist comes to get you several minutes later, and you're now allowed to see Charles. You walk into the room, and you see him totally buzzed out. He's so high right now, and his mouth is like ten times his normal size, and you can't help but laugh a bit.

You take your phone out and capture this unique moment of Charles looking like a squirrel being high on drugs.

"No... no pic... pict... pictures," he mumbles while drooling.

"Sorry, baby, but the others won't believe me if I don't."

"Ha... hate... hate you."

"No, you don't, you love me, and now your teeth won't hurt anymore." You laugh, trying to be positive.

"I lo... I loov live a squerrel.

"Yeah, you do. But I love my squerrel." You chuckle, kissing the top of his head.

"Hate... hate hich."

"Let's go home, baby."

The dentist gives you the last information for the few weeks to come, and you can't help but laugh at Charles's face when he tells him you couldn't eat solid food or make any physical effort for at least the first week. His look was priceless.

You tried to be compassionate, but Charles makes such a big deal when you get yours removed that you can't help but do the same. You texted the entire grid and his family, his face, for at least a few weeks. Was it a low move? Probably. Was it worth it? Totally.

You get back to the car, and Charles hands you his keys. You look at him for ten seconds before realizing he can't drive like this. Your eyes open wide, and you want to protest, but he shushes you. Well, not really, it’s more drool than anything, but you understand what he wants.

Your sight and get behind the wheel after setting Charles down. It's his time to laugh. You watch him set his seatbelt and hang on to the door while you start the Ferrari.

"It's not funny."

"Oh, ish funny," he gibberish, half joking, half whining by the pain. "Chart ye engine, bae."

You press the button, but nothing happens. You press it again, and nothing. You frustrated yourself, wishing you had taken your normal car.

"hress the hedal."

You start the car and press the pedal but nothing.

"Hress the hedal!"

"That's what am doing!" You say annoying.

"Hress the rite hepal."

You do as he says, and the engine finally goes on. You smile, looking at Charles, thinking it's now only a matter of going home, but no. You try to change the gear, and the car stalls. Charles giggles, completely high by his meds, while you start again and try to get to first gear.

It's gonna be a long ride, you start thinking. You're not even out of the parking, and it's already a nightmare. You complain about the car and look at Charles, who's entirely soon out.

You arrive at the parking doors and start going in the street. You're way lower than the permit limitation, and Charles encourages you to go faster. You're so nervous that you don't even realize you’re holding the wheel with all your might. How Charles trusts you enough with his car in this city?

"Ou doing reat, bae!" Says Charles putting his hand and yours.

It's only then, that you realize the grip you have on the wheel.

"reath." He inspires and exhales at the same time as you.

"I hate this!" You declare when another motorist cuts the road, making you almost have an accident.

You have to brake hard, which makes Charles tighten his teeth, and you know he’s in pain. You apologize to Charles and rant after all the cars you pass.

"God, you must hate me right now. I'm so sorry Cha."

"ish okay. Ou doing reat. Ust ocus on the road." He says, holding on for his life when you almost pass at a red.

"You must thing I drive terribly, but it's your car. Pretty sure something wrong with it." You say, finally pulling in the entry of the complex.

You park the car and finally exhale when the engine stop.

"I'm never doing this again. Next time, we're taking the bus."

Charles chuckles and takes your hand. He leans on you, and you walk to the elevator. Once home, Charles went to rest, and you spent the rest of the afternoon worrying that he might not trust you again with his car.

You prepared his dinner, and his drug wore off after his nap. He still looks like a squirrel, but at least he's not high anymore. You gave him his soup, and he frowns when he says your right hand completely eating up to the flesh.

"Baby. What happen?"

"What?"

"Your nails."

"It's nothing. I had an anxiety episode after we came home."

"Why?"

"Well, I almost killed us."

"What are you talking about?"

"Your car, Charles."

"Oh," he laughs. "You did truly amazing, amour. "I mean you need practice, but you did Wonderfull and we are here, and safe. You should have to wake me."

You smile and hug him tight. Even in your darkest days, he sees your potential and always encourages you to go beyond your limits. You don’t know what you did to deserve him, but you love him. You want to kiss him so badly, but that will wait until he recovers.

"I'm never going back to the dentist," complains Charles taking the pain killers. "It's the worst day of my life."

You laugh and give him the ice for his swollen cheek.

"Did you post the photos?"

"I did." You says, taking your phone out to show him.

It's only then you realize that you didn't send the photos to the group chat but to your Instagram story...

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fluff #fluff

[roosterforme]

A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 8 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: You run into the last person you wanted to see in Annapolis, which leads to you and Bradley fighting over the phone.

Warnings: Angst, fluff, swearing and smut

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Check out my masterlist for more!

"Oww!!" You were trying your best to keep it together as your friend Caleb gave you your first tattoo. But you weren't sure if the location was extra sensitive, or if you were just a gigantic baby, but it was hurting a lot.

"Let's take a little break," he told you, gently wiping your skin before he removed his gloves and went to get you a bottle of water.

You glanced down your body to where your leggings were pulled part way down, revealing a half finished tattoo that was clearly dedicated to Bradley. 

Oh my goodness, you'd actually done it. The idea occurred to you when you were first engaged; a hidden tattoo that only he would see. Well, him and your doctors, and perhaps someone who saw you in a bathing suit. But even your bathing suits were probably not skimpy enough to show off the single-line Rooster that was going to be adorning your skin near the left side of your pelvic bone, between your pussy and hip.

"We're almost done," Caleb promised as you drank. "You got five more minutes in you?"

"Yes," you managed to say, watching him wash his hands and grab a new pair of gloves. "It'll be worth it for the surprise wedding gift."

With a laugh, Caleb adjusted your leggings and got to work once more. "I'm pretty sure Bradley is going to freak the fuck out when he sees it. No joke, I would lose my mind if Jess ever did anything like this."

"That's what I'm counting on," you groaned through clenched teeth. You tried to take deep breaths and pretend you were at the beach, taking Tramp for a walk as the needle made you want to cry. 

"Nearly done," Caleb mumbled, and now you were biting your finger to keep yourself still. You were panting by the time he finished and wiped you clean one final time. "Here, check it out with the mirror. Looks pretty cool."

You propped yourself up on one elbow and took the mirror from him. You gasped softly as you examined yourself. "I love it! It's perfect! Tiny and cute and just perfect!"

While Caleb taped plastic wrap over the rooster to cover it while it heals, you argued with him over payment. 

"It's on the house," he insisted.

"That ridiculous! How much would you normally charge?"

He just laughed and said, "It's dainty, and it was your first time, so I'd charge the shop minimum. But you're going to pay nothing and consider it a wedding gift. Congratulations."

"Thanks," you told him with a hug, only feeling slightly bad that he was insisting you skip payment. "But if I come back for another one, I'm paying full price."

"Sure, whatever you say."

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

Bradley was sitting in your car in the driveway. He was already running late, because he missed you so much he could barely function. And because he had stayed in bed too long jerking off to the dirty videos of the two of you. And now your car wouldn't start for him.

"You fucking piece of shit!" he scolded the dashboard. He had moved the seat back as far as it would go, and he could still barely fit. His head was almost touching the roof, and the seatbelt felt like it was smothering him. "I swear this is the smallest car ever made. Can't be safe."

Then he remembered that he promised you he'd treat the car nicely. So through gritted teeth, he gently ran his palm along the steering wheel while he tried one more time to turn the key. 

"For some reason she loves you, so will you please be nice to me?"

The car magically started, and he was finally on his way to work. He thought about how much better the Bronco was while he drove, but he didn't dare voice his opinions out loud. It was only Monday, and he needed this thing to be agreeable for at least a few more days. 

Bradley knew you were busy. He knew you had spent the entire day Sunday with your parents, but he was still craving even just a phone call from you. He thought about calling you now, but the last thing he wanted to do was be a nuisance this week. 

But his phone rang as he pulled into the parking garage, and he scrambled to answer. "Sweetheart!"

"Bradley! I only have a minute," you told him, and he could tell by the amount of background noise that you were already in the conference hall. "Just wanted to check on you and Tramp."

"We're good, Baby Girl. Just miss you."

"Listen, I've got all these dinners and cocktail hours all week, but I'll call you when I can, okay? Text me! I love you!"

Bradley made his way to the classroom and took a seat next to Nat. "How you holding up? I never thought I would see the day when you were a lovesick mess, waiting for your wife to return home."

Bradley grumbled. "Almost wife. And I fucking hate her car. She's so nearly perfect, like literally my ideal woman, but her choice of vehicle honestly makes me question her sanity."

"Of course she's fucking crazy. She's with you."

Being three hours behind you all week made things even more interesting, but when Bradley was fixing himself a bowl of cereal for dinner around 7 on Tuesday, he was surprised to see you were texting him. 

I miss you, Roo. We could definitely manage to break this bed together.

Just as he was about to write back and tell you exactly how he'd take care of you and the bed, a few images appeared in the thread. In the first one, you were naked and all wrapped up in the white sheet, your hair a mess and you had that hazy look in your eyes that told him you'd had a few drinks. 

"Oh, fuck," he groaned as two more images came through. You knew what that ring on your finger did to him. And you decided to tease him anyway. 

The picture of you with your left arm covering your hip, slipping your middle finger inside yourself had him unzipping his shorts. The diamond ring sparkled in the light, and your manicured nails against your pussy looked so pretty. 

He called you over facetime immediately, looking through the pictures while he fisted himself. 

"Roo," you gasped. Your room was dimly lit, but he could tell you were masturbating. You must have just taken these photos before sending them.

"Baby Girl," he groaned, and you whined in response. God, he loved that sound. Loved it when you were a needy, spoiled princess for him. 

"Get me off! Talk to me, Bradley, and get me off!" you demanded, tilting the phone so he could see your pleading face before shifting it to show off the rest of your body.

"You have the prettiest little pussy, Sweetheart. Yes, use your fingers, just like that. Nice and slow. Add a second one to fill you up."

You were moaning louder now, swiping your clit with your thumb. 

"Show me your face. Look at me," he told you, gripping himself tight as you guided your phone up to your face. He scolded you whenever you let your eyes drift closed, demanding you look at him while you came. 

"Bradley," you gasped, your head tipping back, but your eyes stayed on his as you made all the little noises that he would forever associate with pure sexual bliss. 

"Good girl," he told you as you rode your fingers to completion. After a few more pumps of his fist, he had made a bit of a mess in the kitchen for himself to clean up. 

You bit your lip and sighed softly. "I miss you. When I get home, can we make another video together where you call me your dirty little slut?"

He just grunted in agreement. "Anytime you want, Sweetheart."

Bradley let you start to doze off as he talked to you, only telling you to hang up and charge your phone before you fell asleep completely.  

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

Every lecture you attended was fascinating. Every cocktail hour was a great chance to network. And every dinner with your team brought everyone closer together. But you were getting tired of socializing. All you really wanted was to be home with Bradley, eating dinner on his lap and listening to his playlists. 

"Everyone ready for tomorrow afternoon?" Bickel asked on Wednesday evening during dinner just off base. "We've got lecture hall 7 starting at 10:00, so we should have plenty of time to run equipment tests."

"Ready," you promised him as the others agreed. You weren't nervous at all, just excited to share your work. The thing you were most worried about was how itchy your tattoo felt now. It was covered up and healing, but you couldn't imagine giving an hour long lecture in your polyester uniform pants successfully at the moment. 

At least you had managed to keep it covered with your arm while you and Bradley had your facetime call last night. 

You smirked and excused yourself to use the restroom, running your palms over your dress as you wound your way through the restaurant. When your fingers touched your tattoo through the fabric, you actually giggled. You had decided you'd let Bradley find it on his own when you got home on Saturday afternoon. You'd be exhausted from your week by that point, but you still couldn't wait to see what he thought about it.

You were excited for tomorrow's presentation. And on Friday night you'd be out with the Admirals. The Admirals! 

You finally turned the last corner, but you weren't looking where you stepped. It was too late as you felt yourself collide with a man, and then you heard a familiar voice as he said your name. 

His hands came to rest on your arms, steadying you as you felt a cold, horrible feeling wash through your body. 

It was Josh. It was Josh, and he was touching your bare skin, and his face was next to yours. 

"Oh, my god," you gasped, trying to pull out of his grip.

"Shit, it is you," he whispered, finally letting go of you as you wrenched yourself away. 

You stood just staring at each other as you inched slowly away. Some remote part of your brain recognized that you were safe, you were surrounded by people walking to and from the restrooms. You didn't need Bradley or Jake or Bob. But you still felt clammy and uncomfortable. 

"Didn't expect to see you in Annapolis," Josh drawled with a thoroughly disinterested look on his face. "You here to get me kicked off of another base? Get me demoted again?"

"Josh," you whispered, gathering your thoughts. "I'm here to give a presentation."

"I know. I saw your name on the keynote list. I should have been part of that project."

You scoffed. "You should have kept your hands to yourself. And I was never going to choose you, I was always going to keep Sonya."

He laughed bitterly. "Okay, now that much I do not believe. You can say what you want, but I'm not blameless here. You gonna get your huge boyfriend to hit me again, just for fun?"

You pressed your lips together before you said, "Fiancé now, actually."

Josh's gaze dipped down to your hand, but you didn't make the ring any easier for him to see. You didn't even want him looking at it. It was yours. 

Then your mind wrapped around his words. "What do you mean? Hit you again?"

"Is he here?" Josh asked, glancing behind you. 

"No, he's in San Diego, but if I call him, he'll be on the next flight. What do you mean by hit you again?"

Josh shook his head slowly, and you could see in his eyes how much he hated you now. A chill went through your body, but you didn't move an inch. 

"You were there that night, at the bar. I assumed you sent him over to head me off. Him and that blond guy, too."

Your eyes went wider as you pictured Bradley and Jake hauling Josh out the doors of the Hard Deck. Your face must have given you away.

"So you didn't know he punched me in the face then?"

"No," you whispered. Now you were angry at Bradley and Jake, but you were even angrier at Josh for making you remember with vivid clarity the way he had touched you, all while he was standing right in front of you.

"He broke my nose and my ribs. I thought about calling the police. Getting him arrested."

A bitter laugh escaped you as someone nudged past you to get to the ladies' room. "Really? What stopped you? The fact that I would have reciprocated by turning you in for physical and sexual assault? You've got a lot of nerve even talking to me right now, so let's wrap this up. Is there anything else you'd like to say to me?"

Josh eyed you from head to toe, his gaze lingering on your chest for a few seconds before he shook his head. "Just that you weren't worth it. You seemed so fucking easy too. I'd hate to be engaged to you, the way you flirt with other guys like some kind of skank."

"Get the fuck away from me," you said, hating the way your voice shook. "Chelsea told me you did that shit all the time, and I was never even interested in you. You're a pig." 

As he got himself in your personal space, you just wanted Bradley. But you forced yourself to hold your ground.

"And you're a bitch," he snapped next to your ear. 

You sucked in a breath and swallowed hard as he strode away from you as you muttered, "Fuck you." 

When he was out of sight you ducked into the bathroom and locked yourself in a stall. You hated the fact that he could get you so rattled. And you were steaming mad that apparently Bradley and Jake had pulled Josh aside, and everybody neglected to tell you about it. 

You needed to get a cab back to your room so you could be alone and call the one person who would tell you the truth.

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

Everyone was obsessed with his home gym. It really seemed like the silliest thing for his friends to be envious about, especially since Bradley was always inviting them over to use it. He filled up a huge jug of water and grabbed his speaker before taking Tramp out back with him and heading toward the garage where everyone was already gathered.

"Holy hell," Nat muttered. "No wonder he's out here working out all the time. Look at this one!" 

Bradley found Nat, Bob and Jake all huddled around the calendar where it hung on the wall, flipping through the pages. 

"That's so pretty. I love how the photographer used the negative space to make a statement," Bob said.

Jake laughed. "I think you're supposed to be noticing her legs."

Bob stuttered. "Well, I...I just would never look at her that way. So let's be respectful."

Nat shrugged. "I am respectfully saying that I can understand why Rooster is so pussy whipped. Look at this!" She was pointing to the November photo with you in black lace, garters and stocking, and Jake let out a low whistle. 

"Will you please stop looking?!" Bradley scolded, and Nat let go of the calendar like it had burned her.

"We weren't being crude," she replied with a smirk, but Bradley growled and carefully unclipped the calendar from the wall. 

"August is my personal favorite," Jake commented, and of course that was the one Bradley liked because your tit was out.

He eyed them all up. Nat and Jake were both still smirking, and Bob was beat red and looked like he wanted to disappear. "I know she's sexy. I know it's a marvel that I'm with her. I know I am pussy whipped. I know, okay?"

"Just as long as you know," Nat said with a laugh. 

Bradley tucked his calendar carefully into a plastic tub of photos from the storage unit before turning on a playlist. "You've all seen more than enough of my future wife. Let's start this damn workout."

Without another word, everyone grabbed some weights and got to work. Bradley was lifting while Bob spotted for him when he heard Jake's phone ring. 

"Angel, how are you?" Jake drawled, and Bradley quickly set his barbell in the holder and popped up.

"What's wrong? Did she try to call me?" Bradley asked, walking over to his phone. Nothing.

"Whoa, whoa! Angel, calm down! That's not even what happened!" Jake was getting louder and pacing around.

"What's going on?" Bradley demanded, and he was answered by a hand held up in his face. 

Now Bob and Nat were looking concerned as well. 

Jake's eyes went wide and darted toward Bradley's, panic stricken. "You saw Josh tonight? In Annapolis?"

"Give me the phone!" Bradley thundered. 

Jake just held his hand up again. "Angel, you know how I always have your back? I have Rooster's back too, I promise. Everything was under control that night at the Hard Deck." 

"Now!" Bradley added, ready to take it away from Jake.

"He's about to rip my phone out of my hand, so I'm going to give it to him, okay?"

Bradley reached for the phone and juggled it until he had it to his ear. "What is going on?"

"Bradley! I can't believe you punched Josh and never told me! You and Jake both!" you shouted into the phone.

"You saw him tonight?! Where are you?" he shouted back.

"Are you going to tell me what happened when you hit him?" Your voice was near hysterics now, and Bradley knew he needed to calm himself down. He paced the length of the garage while three sets of eyes watched his every movement. 

He readjusted Jake's phone against his ear and took a deep breath. "Sweetheart. I need you to tell me where you are and if you're okay."

"I'm in my room! I'm fine!"

Bradley found it was easier to breathe now. "And where did you see Josh? Does he know where your room is?" Bradley was not above calling your parents and telling them what was going on, since they were only an hour away from Annapolis. In fact his free hand was twitching to text them, and buy a ticket to Maryland himself. 

"I saw him at dinner. He does not know where my room is. Now tell me why you risked assault charges to punch someone who doesn't fucking matter, Bradley!"

Jake took a step closer, asking, "Do you want me to talk to her?"

Bradley sighed and ran his hand over his face. "Can I put you on speaker, Baby Girl? Nat and Bob are here as well."

"Oh my God! Nat and Bob know about it, too? Am I the only one who doesn't know about this?! Should I call Mav and Penny and ask them?"

Bradley tossed his head back and gestured toward the garage door before he disappeared out into the evening air. He paced down the driveway as he said, "There's nothing to tell, Sweetheart."

You scoffed through the phone. "He said you broke his nose and his ribs, Bradley! Why would you do that? He doesn't matter at all."

"For you!" Bradley growled. "What other reason would I have to do anything except for you?"

"He could have hurt you! He could have called the police!" you wailed. "You could have been in serious trouble."

Bradley's blood was pulsing through his body, and he really wanted to punch out a window when he walked past your car. "He doesn't get to touch you without consequences. That's the bottom line."

"But what about you? You think you're not just as important to me?"

Bradley paced back up the driveway, running his fingers through his hair. "I understand what you're saying, my love. But roughing him up outside the Hard Deck was just a warning. I wasn't going to do too much damage. Even though I really fucking wanted to."

The exasperated noise you made had him almost on his knees. "And what if you got arrested?"

Bradley leaned against your car. "Then you bail me out. I added you to all my bank accounts already. You can use it for that."

"I'm not joking right now, Bradley."

"Neither am I! I'm not joking about the fact that all my money is yours. I'm not joking about the fact that I would fund my own bail money to defend you a million times over. And I'm not joking about the fact that I would have done a lot worse to Josh if left unchecked. So if you want to be mad at someone, you can continue to be mad at me, but I promise you that Jake was there the whole time. And he would have pulled me off of him if necessary. That's the kind of shit that Jake and I would do for each other." 

Now you were actively crying, and Bradley didn't know what to say. He realized there was probably nothing that would make you feel better at this moment, so he went ahead and added, "I'm not going to apologize for what I did. And I don't feel bad about it. And I fucking hate that you saw that prick tonight. This is supposed to be your special week that you worked so hard for!"

He wasn't helping anything at the moment, but he couldn't stop himself as he punched the top of your car. "Baby Girl, I love you, and it's my job to protect you. Please try to understand where I'm coming from here."

You sniffed hard before saying, "Please let me talk to Jake."

Bradley heaved a deep sigh and headed back into the garage. "Okay. Here's Jake."

Bradley watched him take back his phone and head outside. "Angel, I promise you that I was with him the whole time......."

Every cell in his body wanted to know what you and Jake were talking about, but Bradley forced himself to sit down on the weight bench instead. 

"Here, use this for a bit," Bob said, handing a twenty pound dumbbell to him. "Keep your mind occupied."

"She's probably just upset that she ran into Josh, and everyone else seems to know you got physical with him except for her," Nat told Bradley, placing a soft kiss to the top of his head. "She just needs to blow off some steam to Jake, so let him take care of it. In the meantime, I'm going to order some pizzas."

Bradley let Bob count his reps while he listened to Nat order one pizza with pepperoni and one with mushrooms. He suddenly just missed you so much. He should have taken a few days off and joined you in Annapolis to attend your lecture. He'd love to see the look on Josh's face if he tried to talk to you with Bradley standing behind you. 

When Jake finally came back into the garage, tucking his phone into his pocket, he just sighed and stared at Bradley for a moment.

"Well? What did you talk about?" Bradley rasped, handing the dumbbell back to Bob.

Jake just kind of shrugged. "A lot of it was personal, so I'm not going to tell you, but I explained to her very calmly that she needs to get over it. I told her that I am completely taking your side this time, and that it was important for you to assert your dominance in this particular scenario."

Bradley grunted and stood, pulling Jake into a brief hug. "She likes you. She'll listen to you."

Jake nodded. "I told her to take an hour to think about things from your point of view and calm down. Then she's allowed to call you back, but she needs to be done being upset."

Bradley gaped at Jake, and a startled laugh escaped him. "And she's going to actually do that?"

"She better, or I told her I will be very disappointed in her."

"Shit," Bradley muttered, so impressed by Jake Seresin that he wasn't sure what had become of his life. 

"Pizza's here. Let's go inside," Nat said, guiding everyone toward the house.

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

Jake was probably right. You were in shock from seeing Josh again, and you needed to think through what happened at the Hard Deck before you talked to Bradley again. You had stripped off all of your clothes, too hot and uncomfortable, before flopping down on the bed.

Thankfully Jake had taken the time to walk you through everything. He told you that Josh looked like he was going to try to approach you, but there was no way Bradley, Jake or anyone else in that bar would allow that to happen. Jake also promised you that Bradley was very calm the entire time, and the only reason he hit Josh was because he started bad mouthing you.

And especially based on what Josh said to you at the restaurant, you tended to believe Jake. The man had the nerve to call you a skank! As if you had done anything to wrong Bradley!

Oh Bradley. You had yelled at him on the phone. And he'd been the one to keep this information from you for months to try to spare your feelings. He just wanted to protect you and keep you safe. And really, maybe Josh deserved that broken nose and the broken ribs. 

Okay, now you were thinking about Bradley fighting for your honor, and a shot of adrenaline coursed through your body. You ran your fingers along your healing tattoo and you reached for your phone. 

After one ring, you heard Bradley's voice. "Sweetheart."

You let his raspy voice wash over you. He was always going to keep you safe. "I love you, Roo. I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was so flustered from tonight and then I was embarrassed. And you know you could have told me you hit him, right? I'm not fragile, Bradley."

"Oh, Baby Girl. You're not. You're so strong. I just didn't want you to have to keep dealing with this shit when I was more than happy to take over for you. You do the same thing for me sometimes. Like when you make fancy dinners for Goose and Carole just when I'm on the brink of collapse, because I don't think there's a good way to keep their memory alive."

"Okay. That makes sense." Jake was right. You just needed to take some time to think about things. "It's like sharing the burden with someone who can help in a different way."

"Yes," he replied, and you could tell he was smiling. "Exactly like that. And also, fuck you Jake," Bradley said, his voice raised so that you could tell he was yelling through the house. 

You started laughing along with Bradley. "Don't get upset with Jake. He's kind of sweet, actually. He helped me process this."

"I love you, Baby Girl. But it's so late there, and you have a big day tomorrow. Are you okay?"

You took a deep breath as you sat up in the tiny bed. Your eyes dipped again to your tattoo. "Yeah, I'm okay, Roo. Thanks for always trying to protect me."

"Will you call me as soon as you can tomorrow? I want to hear everything about your presentation."

"I will."

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

Ugh, Josh..... she needs to finish up in Annapolis and get home. At least the tattoo is complete!

PART 9

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I don’t want to hear thoughts... Unless they’re yours

Chapter 6:   Scarry truth        18+ (Please be aware that there is explicit content here)   Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Fem!Reader Word count: 5k Warning: NSFW, 18+, lesbian relationship, oral, strap on use, Mommy!Kink, top!Wanda, Bottom!Reader , Wanda being with another character, angst,  Summary: Wanda wanted to live the normal life she was never afforded, but something was always missing. Something she denied herself and buried deep inside. But watching you move next door, she quickly realizes that this may not be possible for much longer. Especially with all the interesting things she found in your thoughts. Chapter summary: When Wanda invited you over for coffee after work, she never expected that a slight deviation from her plans would send her spiraling, or push her to fall back into old habits. But would it give her what she really wants?   Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4; Part 5; Part 6, Part 7; Part 8; Part 9; Part 10 Series materlist                                     Masterlist of all my works

On Monday morning Wanda woke up feeling truly rested. It was still early, but that didn’t bother her. She had spent the previous day immersed in your daydreams, indulging herself thoroughly and loving every second of it. It was heavenly to let go, to have someone sharing in her desires. Someone who understood. It felt freeing to know she wasn’t alone. You were her perfect counterpart and she found it easier to see herself as the dominant in your fantasies, getting to do to you all the things you so clearly enjoyed. With that thought, she started getting ready for the day ahead. She pulled out her headphones, which, left unused for quite some time, she had to find first and she started a playlist on her phone. She had spent enough time with you, or rather your thoughts, to know quite a lot of your favorite songs and she added them, letting the first one play while she made breakfast. Truly, she was refreshed. Energy surged and she had a new inspiration for a painting of hers, already imagining herself freeing a few hours in her afternoon, so she could start. Who know her little neighbor could be such a miracle worker. With such thoughts and the music playing loudly, Wanda dancing to the beat while she made waffles, she didn’t even hear her sons come down the stairs. She realized they were already up when her body stiffened, attacked by their little hands, which wrapped themselves around her in their hugs and she had to stifle and surprised scream, making the boys laugh. “Good morning, mom” They smiled mischievously at her, watching her pull out the headphones and putting her phone away. “Good morning.” She smiled back, ruffling their hair happily. “Anyone hungry?” She asked, already knowing the answer. Her sons were always hungry. “Yes!” They responded in unison, watching her and trying to figure out what she was making. “Good. Go get napkins and some cutlery for the table. I’m almost done.” She explained, purposefully avoiding the answer to their unspoken question. “Are those waffles?” Tommy finally asked, taking out napkins, while his brother picked out forks. “You’ll just have to wait and find out.” She responded coyly, her mood lifting even more. Wanda watched her children eat, putting away the dishes once they were done, planning out her day, when she felt you stir. She gave you the space to get ready for the day and she left the house, pretending to do something in the garden as she waited for you to come out. What she didn’t plan on, however, was how she’d see you. You were wearing a white vest, but her eyes immediately narrowed at the fact that there was no shirt underneath it, your arms exposed and the tops of your breasts peeking out. There was no blazer in sight either and she immediately realized that that’s the way you’d spend your day. The white pants you had chosen clung to your every curve, which, now that she’d seen, she could imagine even more vividly and she cursed internally. You wore high heels, the way you often did for work, your legs looking even longer and more alluring. “Hi, neighbor!” Wanda greeted, waving at you, taking this time to breathe in and calm her nerves. Damn, you really did need your mommy to tell you not to wear such things. Did you not know what you looked like? What it could do to people? “Oh, hi, Wanda.” You waved back, approaching her fence. “How are you this morning.” “I’m great!” She admitted honestly, a genuine smile gracing her features. “I just woke up feeling so positive and energized. Which reminds me… ” She paused slightly. “The kids just love waffles and I made way too much. Let me go grab you some to take with you for work!” She said, already turning towards her house. Your protests fell on deaf ears and Wanda walked into her home, having the food already packed and she waited a little bit, not to seem like she had planned this, just so she would give them to you and she walked outside with a container, handing it to you. “You really don’t have to. Please.” You tried to argue, but it was useless against her. “I insist.” She said simply, her green eyes fixing you with an unrecognizable look while you contemplated. “Aren’t we friends?” She added, smiling when she saw you hesitate and watched all your defenses crumble at that. “Thank you!” You said with a small smile, your hand reaching out to take the food she had made. “My pleasure.” She said happily, now that you had accepted. “So how are you? How was Sunday with no strangers in your house?” She asked, referring to herself and the little pool party you had. “Honestly? Boring. I quite liked your company.” You admitted with more honesty than Wanda expected, your eyes sparkling at the words and the woman stood taken aback by it. It was true that she had asked for the compliment, or at least prompted it, but it still struck a strange cord of longing in her. “You know, if you keep saying things like that, you won’t be able to get rid of me.” Wanda tried to joke, but her voice didn’t quite have that cheerful tone, betraying a little of her real feelings. “Well, then it’s a good thing I’m not trying to.” You smiled warmly, realizing that you actually did want to spend more time with the woman. You liked your conversations with her, enjoyed getting to know her a little. “Oh, Y/N, stop sweet talking me, before I make you late for work.” She waved her hands, smiling. “Swing by when you finish, we’ll have a cup of coffee. Mine’s not as good as yours, mind you, but it’ll do.” She suggested, her eyes fixed on you, reading every small expression. “I might be late, I probably have a mountain of things waiting for me.” You explained. “But if I make it before dinner I’ll be happy to come over and share some of my own recipes.” “Well, then I won’t keep you.” Wanda said, a huge smile spreading across her face. “Have a good day, Y/N.” “I hope you have a great day too, Wanda.” You returned her smile, the woman’s energy entirely infectious. “Thank you again for the waffles!” You said a bit louder as you walked away and watched the woman dismiss you with a wave of her hand, as if it was nothing. Happy with her little interaction with you, Wanda thought that her day was going even better than expected and that pushed her into a wave of hyperactivity. She let the boys play, though her eyes were often following them, while she did some cleaning and organizing, prepared lunch and put the boys to bed for a couple of hours while she started on her painting. She didn’t miss the chance to take her headphones and listen to more of your music, feeling surrounded by you as she did it, her brushstrokes confident, because she already had the image of what she wanted in her head. When her sons woke up, she took them to the park. The day was warm and sunny and she didn’t want to keep them in that house all the time. She took a ball and a couple more of their favorite toys and she sat on a bench, watching them play, the smiles never leaving their faces. They reminded her so much of her and her brother when they were young. They were so close. Even when they disagreed, they were so connected, that other children sometimes found it hard to approach them. They didn’t need anyone else to have a good time and they knew each-other so well. Wanda sometimes watched in awe, when Billy and Tommy played football for example. They didn’t need more than a glance at each-other to know what the other would do and they made such a formidable team that other kids sometimes felt left out, but quite honestly, she loved that about them. When they were properly exhausted from all their activities, Wanda took them for ice cream and her heart filled with joy at their loud cheers. Of course, they wanted way more than they could eat, the way children often did when it came to treats and she knew she’ll most likely have to finish whatever they couldn’t and she wasn’t wrong, but she couldn’t care less. When she got home, she realized that you’d probably be back soon enough and despite having things to fill her time, she couldn’t stop looking at the clock, the minutes ticking by slowly and your absence filling her with an unsettling feeling she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Suddenly, she realized that she had been waiting for this all day, she had somehow hyped herself for it and you were late. Wanda looked at her phone, her eyes narrowing. She knew she had no new messages, but the confirmation annoyed her and she found herself passing by the windows that looked over to your house more often. Your car wasn’t there, so she knew you weren’t back yet, but that only frustrated her more. You worked too much. You were meant to be with her right now, sipping her coffee and telling her about yourself, not in some office, exhausting yourself. After another hour passed, Wanda’s mood had gotten worse. She hadn’t realized how much this meant to her, until she was left standing in the middle of her house with no messages from you and a sickening feeling of expectancy. That’s when she realized that she had put too much hope into your interactions. She had ignored all her worries, concerns, all her rules when she came to this town. She was here to have a normal life, to be with her sons, to get away from the things that had pushed her life into chaos, not chase after them. Of course, you had nothing to do with that. But you tempted her. Your presence, your alluring personality most of all, made her embrace so much of her magic again, made her fall back into a pattern of obsession and distrust. She knew it wasn’t healthy. She knew that what she did was wrong, that she had crossed so many lines, but your interactions, even if a little bit set up, were real. What she said, what she felt, what she wanted was quite real. And she knew you were a genuine person too. Perhaps that’s what frustrated her most. She discovered that you were wonderful and that a casual interest had quickly grown into a full blown chase for her. Wanda Maximoff actually liked you. God, she was fucked. She wasn’t meant to have any romantic feelings. The people she loved never had a good fate. They got hurt… Or worse. The realization, more than anything, scared Wanda, her initial frustration over your absence, quickly turning into anxiety. She got too involved, too invested in this, she dove in head first into feelings she didn’t know how to handle. Pacing around the house, trying not to seem as nervous as she felt, she thought of all the implications of continuing on the course she had set. She had no doubt that she could make you hers. You were perfect for her, she could easily show you that… But what then? What if the people she hurt in her past came looking for her? What if they hunted her down and found the life she had built, found you. You were such an easy mark. Would she be able to protect you? God, how could she even tell you who she really was? What she’s done, how many lives she has ruined, how many people she had wronged. Would you look at her the same way if you knew the extent of her monstrosity? Would you fear her then? Could she just lie to you? Was it a lie, if she simply ignored the question of her past and showed you who she was now? So many thoughts swirled in her head and she grew more restless by the second. What was she meant to do? Chase after you? She wanted to. But she was afraid. So many people feared rejection in life, feared that something wouldn’t work out, feared loneliness… Wanda was different. Life had shown her that rejection was easy to move past. She would rather hear you say that she’s unwanted, see you in the arms of another and seethe with jealousy, than watch the love in your eyes fade away at the knowledge of who she really is. Gaining your love, opening up her heart to you and then losing you? How could she live with that? Watching the life drain from you, holding your broken body on the floor and knowing that she’ll never see you smile? God, that could break her. Yes, rejection was simpler. A clear cut that would heal. Loss was a jagged wound that never quite healed. It ached every waking moment of every day and she never wanted to face that again. Yes, the life she had chosen was simpler… The sound of her phone pulled her from her thoughts and she willed herself to pick it up slowly, to calm the way her heart hammered, but her hands shook as soon as she saw your name on her screen. Hi, Wanda! I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to make it today. My calendar is full of meetings until 20:00. Another time? Wanda read and re-read the message a few times, her fingers hovering over the screen. She had a million responses in her head, reassuring you that it was all right, telling you that she understood, making plans with you for another day, but they all died down in the end. It was cruel to do this to herself and unfair to do it to you. With a long, deep breath, Wanda typed back a response, throwing her phone on the couch next to her. Of course. Just that. And it felt so empty that she hurried to get up, hugging her boys tightly and kissing the tops of their heads as she made her way to the fridge and the bottle of white wine she knew she’d find there.                                                  *             *             * The wine, Wanda thought as she sat down in a random café with a stranger, definitely did not help. In fact, she blamed all her bad choices on that bottle, which, to her shame, she had finished all by herself. That’s how she found herself scrolling through that dating app and looking at the different messages women had sent her, picking one that she liked and responding, eventually arranging herself this date that she was now almost regretting. But she was getting ahead of herself. After she’d put the boys to bed, she couldn’t stop thinking about you. She found herself peeking through her windows and watching your movements. You came home at about 21:30 and you crashed on the couch. She could feel all the pent-up stress in you and she had to remind herself that she should stay away from your thoughts. If she was to keep herself away from you, she had to start by pulling away from the thing that had gotten her so involved in the first place. Something easier said than done. She watched you go through your routine, making yourself a sandwich instead of a normal meal, because it was faster and you were almost starved, nervously tapping her foot as she continued to contemplate everything. She couldn’t escape it. The way her brain kept returning to that same thing, kept turning over all the possibilities, scrambling to find a way to both get what she wanted and protect her heart from pain. And it was impossible.   But what really sent her into a spiral came a little later that night. Wanda had tried to watch TV, but even her favorite sitcoms weren’t enough to distract her. She wasn’t even watching. That is until she looked through her window again and saw that the first floor of your house was now dark, and she followed the light up, seeing you through your bedroom window. You were undressing yourself rather carelessly, but Wanda couldn’t tear her eyes away from you. You had already pulled down your pants and were now undoing the buttons of your vest, letting it slide off your shoulders, leaving you in a white bra and panties and causing Wanda’s mouth to run dry. Why did she have to see that? She knew it was wrong of her to keep watching, but she stood frozen in place, her eyes tracing your body, even if she’d seen you naked in your fantasies quite a few times now. But this was different. This was real. Your hands were undoing your bra next and she followed every movement, drinking you in as the garment fell to the floor. God, you were beautiful. Just as beautiful as she remembered and her whole being filled with longing. You could be hers, she could be undressing you right now, kissing you, worshipping you… Fuck, she had to do something, before this obsession consumed her. Better yet, before she was labeled the neighborhood creep for spying on naked girls. And didn’t people often say that the best way to get over someone is to find someone else? Well, that was how her brilliant plan had led her here. On this date with the first random woman, who’s picture she liked. In the morning Wanda arranged a babysitter for the boys. A neighbor she knew and trusted on the rare occasions when she had to leave the house without her sons. She was meant to come in the afternoon and stay with them for a few hours. Why had she done this? Well… She thought it would help her get you out of her mind, so she settled in the booth, across from the woman she had texted with and started up a light conversation. Iris was a couple of years younger than Wanda, a brunette, and had a charming smile, something the redhead didn’t miss the opportunity to point out, making her blush. But even though the date was going well enough, Wanda couldn’t help but think of you. She kept comparing her to you, kept looking at her eyes and searching for yours, kept thinking of what you would say, even though she was here so she could forget you. The knowledge somehow frustrated her. It’s not like she loved you. But she craved that connection with you and in defiance of her own feelings, or perhaps in searching for ways to suppress them, it almost took no effort on her part at all, to have Iris trapped between her own front door and Wanda’s body. “Invite me inside.” Wanda whispered in her ear, more a demand than a request. “What makes you think I want to?” The brunette asked in defiance, even though both her hands were wrapped around the sorceress. “The way you look at me right now.” And it wasn’t the first such look Wanda had gotten during their date. This woman had been eye-fucking her for the past hour. “And you think I’m that easy?” “That’s such a terrible term.” Wanda disagreed. “I know I can make you feel good.” She stated simply. “And I think you want me to.” To accentuate her words, she let her hips grind against the other woman, so she could feel the toy in her pants, giving her a moment to really entice her, before pulling away and hearing the woman gasp softly. “Invite me inside?” She asked this time, a smile gracing her lips, because she knew there is no way her date would refuse her. “Please, come inside.” The woman smiled back after a few more seconds of hesitation, pulling her in for a brief kiss, before she turned around to unlock her door. “Oh, I will.” Wanda practically purred, unable to resist a smirk at the double meaning and earning herself an almost audible eyeroll. Once inside, the two women quickly moved passed the pleasantries, barely pausing while the brunette offered Wanda a drink and watched her gulp down a glass of whisky in one go and soon Wanda was being dragged through a room and lead into a messy bedroom. “Sorry about the clutter.” Iris apologized, a little embarrassed, since she obviously did not expect company. “I don’t care about that.” Wanda responded, pulling her in for a kiss and tossing her onto the messy bed. And she really didn’t. Normally she’d be far more critical of the unkept room, but as it was, she was desperate for a distraction. Oh, how wrong she was to think this would help. Wanda let her hands roam Iris’s body, tearing her clothes off of her hastily and refusing to think of the way she looked nothing like you, felt nothing like you. She pushed away every thought of you, refused to see your face, when she closed her eyes, fought every urge to conjure the sound of your voice and every second passed excruciatingly slow. Every touch felt forced, felt wrong, because it was never meant for this stranger.   In the end, Wanda gave up. The rest of their encounter becoming a blur. Between drinking and her heart protesting the intimacy she shared with another, Wanda had no choice, continuously drifting to images of you, of your fantasies coming to life, behind Wanda’s closed lids. She could only hope that she did as well as she imagined. When it was all over, somehow, opening her eyes to the visage of another woman startled Wanda. Iris certainly looked happy with the orgasm she received, her body twitching with aftershocks and a satisfied grin never leaving her face, but Wanda had thought of you the entire time and being met with someone else’s face came as a shock, before she had to remind herself why she had done this. It seemed somehow empty now, after the fact, but before she could process it fully, she was pulled back into reality by Iris’s voice. The brunette flipped Wanda on her back and she dutifully removed all her clothes and took off the strap on and the dildo that was attached to it, putting them to the side and staring hungrily into Wanda’s wet pussy. Iris didn’t ask for permission, nor did she hesitate, before she leaned down, her tongue swiping over Wanda’s clit softly and getting a taste of her. The redhead sorceress stood there frozen for a moment, her eyes following the woman above her cautiously, and her body rigid. That was not what she imagined in the slightest, not what she thought it would feel like at all. With all the women she’d been with, all the times she imagined herself taking control, she never felt so empty or so unfulfilled by the encounter. Even when she held back, when she suppressed all her urges, she still felt so much more fulfilled, than she did in this moment. “Is everything all right?” Iris somehow startled her and pulled her from her thoughts and Wanda realized that she hadn’t moved this entire time. “Yes.” Wanda barely whispered, faking a smile and closing her eyes in an attempt to reign in her disappointment. When she looked at Iris, she felt nothing and when she closed her eyes, trying to let her body feel good, enjoy the way she was being treated, she just couldn’t. Something was missing and she struggled to find it, her breaths growing shallow. “Do you need me to do something different, baby?” Iris pulled away again after a few minutes, the disappointment in her eyes obvious. “You can tell me what you need.” Wanda had been so eager to be with her, so happy to fuck her into a mind-blowing orgasm, yet the woman was hardly enjoying herself and Iris feared she wasn’t doing a good job, feared she’ll never see her again. “No, no, don’t stop.” Wanda said, a little desperate, feeling the other woman resume her ministrations. She felt gentle kitten licks on her pussy, her body responding to the stimulation even when her brain resisted and Wanda felt herself slip. Despite her own protests, despite knowing that she shouldn’t, she allowed herself to see you between her legs, to imagine what you’d do when you tried to please her and her heart leaped to see your face. She just knew you’d love being on your knees for her, getting desperately turned on to look at her wet folds and waiting for her permission to finally taste her. She’d be so proud to see your cute face covered in her juices while she praised you for “making Mommy cum so good”. You’d be such an adorable little thing, offering her your fingers and then licking them clean, when she was done cumming all over them. God, better yet, tying you up to the bed and putting a vibrator against your clit and Wanda playing with the remote control while she rode your tongue. She could edge you like that, while she came all over your face, orgasm after orgasm washing over her, until she was too overwhelmed and overstimulated to continue. When she’s done, she’d take it away and fuck you senseless with her strap, erasing any thought, that someone else would ever make you feel as good as she did. God, the possibilities… With each new idea, each new image of you at her mercy, Wanda climbed higher. Her hands ran through Iris’s hair, gripping it and guiding the woman, her hips canting up in impatience as she chased her orgasm. She felt it building, deep in the pit of her stomach and she squeezed her eyes tightly, as if she feared to open her eyes, feared to face her reality and your absence. “Oh my God, just like that, baby!” She encouraged, picturing your cute face and your pretty eyes looking up at her for validation, loving to hear her praise. “Don’t stop, Y/N! Make me cum!” She moaned, her fingers tightening around the strands of the brunette’s hair, pulling her even closer to her center, just as she started to fall over the edge. Her orgasm washed over her quickly, a little forced, but powerful and she rode out the waves of pleasure with the thought of you, her hips still canting up and helping her ride it out in bliss, only releasing the woman, when she was completely spent and her body slumped against the mattress. Wanda felt her date climb up her body, lying next to her on the bed, but being sensible enough not to touch her and she reminded herself that she’ll see Iris’s face once she opens her eyes and not yours, yet when their eyes met, she still had to cover her disappointment. “So, who’s Y/N?” Iris broke the silence and watched Wanda’s eyes grow large in shock. “You said her name earlier.” The brunette clarified, but stayed calm. “When did I…’’ Wanda stopped, as she remembered it. She wasn’t meant to say your name. She wasn’t meant to think of you. Yet, she knew, she wouldn’t be able to cum, if she didn’t. “Please tell me she’s not your girlfriend.” Iris kept her eyes on Wanda. “No… Not my girlfriend…” Wanda murmured, her thoughts so distant, she hardly registered the other woman’s presence. God, what had she done? This was a mistake. Looking around at the strange, unkept room and the naked woman next to her, Wanda started to panic. She didn’t want to be there, didn’t want to feel this woman’s fingers run up and down her forearm… Her nakedness made her feel vulnerable and exposed, as if caught doing something wrong. She felt dirty suddenly, as if the other woman’s touch had left a visible trace on her skin. She looked around nervously, internal panic starting to set in and urging her to leave, feeling trapped under the other woman’s sheets, under her gaze that continued to study her, as if she wanted to find what’s wrong with her and fix her. God, when did she become a charity case? Suddenly, Wanda rose from her spot on the bed, that seemed too small, reeking of the woman, who wasn’t you. She started to dress herself hurriedly, gathering her things, while Iris followed her movement in a melancholy way. She seemed saddened somehow, yet unsurprised. She refused to ask why she was leaving in such a rush, although Wanda could feel she hoped for an explanation, hoped to hear Wanda say that she’ll call her, that they’ll see each-other again, that this wasn’t a fleeting, meaningless date. Wanda’s heart ached, her thoughts spinning out of control. She felt so disheartened by her own future, and equally saddened for Iris, for what she was doing to her, what she knew was a cruel way to end things. She had accepted her in her home, in her bed, in her own body, let Wanda satiate her need… The woman didn’t deserve to be left like this. When did Wanda become so callused? Pausing, Wanda did what she knew was the right thing to do. The kind thing to do. She swallowed her own feelings, for a moment forgetting everything that was waying her down, that tormented her and kept her from claiming the happiness she craved and she took Iris’s hands in her own. She let the woman walk her out, kissing her lips softly at the door and telling her what a lovely time she had. It was painful to drive away, her eyes lingering on the woman at the door, until she could no longer see her, doing everything she could to keep herself together, feeling her tears spill from her eyes and the road becoming a blur. God, this was a mistake. Hurting that woman was a mistake. Letting you get so close to her, getting so attached to you was a mistake. She should have stayed away, should have left you alone, when she understood how addictive you were. She should have… But it was way too late now.  

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff smut #lesbian #Scarlet Witch #Mommy!Wanda #mommy kink #angst

[maccreadysbaby]

A Hundred Ways to Become a Wayne

batfamily + oc insert

tw: death and gore

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

here’s bentley and his friends going through it™︎

part thirty-one

❝ HOMEBOUND ❞

MONDAY — AUGUST 17 — 10:42PM

BENTLEY, ASTEN, NICO, AND DAVIS DIDN’T MOVE AN INCH. Instead, they all stared at the bodies of the guards that had just choked to death on nothing.

Nico’s glowing white eyes faded back to their normal blue, rolled back into his head, and he fell over without a warning. Thankfully, Asten was quick and close enough to keep his head from hitting the white tile of Dr. Keene’s screwed-up child experimenting facility.

Bentley blinked, taking several moments to look back and forth between the pile of dead guards in the doorway of the sterile white room, and Nico. Had he just… killed them all? With superpowers?

He turned back to Nico and Asten — the latter now had the former’s head on his lap, and he was staring at him, stunned. So many people were… dying. Bentley had to have seen at least twenty people die right before his eyes in the past, what? Thirty minutes? And each one at the hands of people he knew as friends. The thought made him kind of dizzy. He’d seen so many people die.

He flinched when Davis’s metal glove landed on his left shoulder, and when he met his eyes, the green orbs were dancing worriedly across his face and bloody frame. Bentley looked away and sniffled quietly. “You think you can walk so I can carry your friend?”

Honestly, Bentley was running on nothing more than fumes and fear, and had been for at least a solid few days. The added pain and terror from the gunshot was almost inconceivable, blending into one big blur of full-body agony that he couldn’t stop crying over. Even though Davis said the shot wasn’t that bad (he knew it would be a very different situation if he had been shot in the chest or head), keeping himself from falling over seemed to be the most laborious task he’d carried out in a long time. 

But… Nico was passed out, and Bentley wasn’t yet. He wasn’t sure how many steps he’d get in — but if worse came to worse, he was probably small enough that Asten could get by with dragging him or something. So, as much as he wanted Davis to keep carrying him around, to hide his face from the world and pretend he was in Bruce’s arms, he wiped at his furiously leaking eyes and nodded for him to carry Nico instead.

With that, Davis moved across the room to pick him up, which he did while enduring the longest death glare Bentley had ever seen Asten throw in someone’s direction. He didn’t argue, though — much to their surprise. He just stood up once Nico was securely in Davis’s arms, eyes flicking over to Bentley, around the sterile white room. He also sent a glare to the Synchronizer that surely would’ve made it wither had it been anything but metal and machinery.

“We have to get to Titus. He’s on the other end of the facility,” Davis said, shifting Nico around until his head was securely against his shoulder. He was holding him bridal style like he’d been carrying Bentley, and Nico looked really small in his arms.

Asten breathed in, brushing a hand over his blue and black hair. He was still standing ahead of the Synchronizer where Nico had hugged the life out of him. “Titus. The one who can teleport?”

“Yeah. He can get you guys out of here, if we can get to him. If. I’m not sure how far we’ll make it with no self defense. I would offer up my hands, but they’re kinda full,” Davis glanced down at Nico momentarily, something like the vaguest hint of nostalgia or deja vu swirling in his green irises. “We-“

“I can help with that,”

Bentley, Asten, and Davis all flinched in tandem when a fourth voice came — a disembodied female voice that had no obvious user. The voice had come from near the back wall, across from the door, but… there wasn’t anybody there.

Bentley wasn’t, like, losing his mind, was he? The thought made more silent tears slide down his face. He’d lost so much blood he was losing his mind.

“Who’s there?” Davis questioned, taking a few steps past Bentley in the direction of the mysterious voice. Asten moved toward them, ever so slowly inching away from the Synchronizer and ending up at Bentley’s left side.

Suddenly, eliciting a flinch from Asten and a gasp from both Bentley and Davis, the redhead girl that they’d ejected from a Synchronizer on their search for Asten and Nico appeared out of thin air. She was standing against the back wall of the room in a hospital gown that mirrored theirs, picking at her nails. Her light blue eyes seemed to be an odd mixture of color that made them look silver, and her red hair was long and wavy down her back. Her face had much more color than it had earlier.

Davis glowered dangerously at her, tugging Nico closer to himself. “Who are you?”

She stepped forward, a ghost of a smile growing on her petite face. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt your little sheep. I’ve been following you since you let me out of the machine, which I’m here to repay you for. That is, if you can get your teleporty friend to get me out of here, too.”

“How are you going to help us?” Davis questioned, his voice layered thick with uncertainty and doubt. The girl smirked — smirked.

“I might be straight out of the mad scientist’s oven, but I have a pretty good handle on this whole superpower thing,” She explained, glancing down at her own blank nails, strangely nonchalant now — way calmer than she was earlier. “The names Lydia. Lydia Venice. And with me at your disposal, you’ll be able to walk your happy selves straight to the other side of the compound without a hitch.”

Her freakishly calm demeanor didn’t go unnoticed by Bentley. Either she was adapting extremely well to being kidnapped and experimented on, or…

“And how am I supposed to know if you’re being mind controlled?” Davis questioned, mirroring exactly what Bentley had been thinking. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. What if she was just going to take them back to Dr. Keene? Put them back in the machines to finish the process?

“I guess you don’t… but I feel like myself right now. Making my own choices and all that,”

Bentley would’ve been intrigued in the conversation, had the blood loss been taking less of a toll on him than it actually was. The floating feeling was now putting a fog over everything in his mind, and he was really cold. He could hear his heart beating in his ears, and it seemed to be going way too fast even though he was literally just standing there.

That’s about when his legs decided to give out beneath him.

Thankfully, a pair of arms looped around his middle in a rather un-graceful way, catching him in a position that made his shoulder momentarily set itself ablaze with agony. He let out a cry. Why? The pain? The trauma that was being burned into his head for the rest of his life? He wasn’t sure. But he was pretty sure it was enough to cry about. 

“Whoa, whoa. I’ve got you, red,” Whispered probably the most comforting voice in the room.

Voices were running in the background, Davis and Lydia, but the Bentley was too focused on the fact that Asten had wasted no time pulling him gently back onto his feet. He slung Bentley’s arm around his shoulders, looping his own arm around his torso so he could hold him up. Nearly all of his (minimal) weight was leaning into Asten’s right side, which might’ve felt bad about if his mind wasn’t floating like he was fresh off of anesthesia. He noted the fact that he kind of felt like he wanted to hurl. He also noted the fact that everyone was suddenly looking at him.

Davis stared at him for a solid ten seconds, before he huffed and looked back at Lydia with a tense: “Fine. How are you going to help us?”

She smiled. “Observe.”

She walked over to the Synchronizer in the room, and with the cock of an eyebrow, put her hand on it. She disappeared. The entire Synchronizer disappeared with her. 

“Whatever I touch turns invisible, too. If you hold onto me, no one will see us,” Her voice came from the nothingness in front of them.

“Alright…” Davis sighed to himself, blinking a few times to right his mind. “But if you try anything-“

“You’ll kill me?” The girl reappeared and cracked a strangely genuine looking grin, cocking a hip to the side. “I’ve seen quite the spread of bodies you’ve left in your wake, Reaper. This time and last.”

Davis scowled, a far-off look growing in his eyes momentarily. Bentley remembered hearing about the last time Davis had killed a bunch of people — if his brain wasn’t so foggy he might’ve even remembered what Dr. Keene said the reason was. But he couldn’t. He felt like he was drifting away into darkness. Like the agony was fading and so was he. Even the crying he’d assumed would be endless was tapering away due to the haze he couldn’t get out of.

“Asten,” He whispered, breathing deep despite being relatively still. The Brazilian immediately whipped his head around, his hold on him tightening the slightest.

“What is it?”

Bentley sniffled, batting away the wetness in his eyes to no avail. “I don’t feel good,” He muttered, but he couldn’t bring his gaze up to look his friend in the eyes. How was Asten so warm and everything else was so cold? Bentley was freezing.

The blue haired boy grimaced, glancing back up at Davis and Lydia. “As much as I love spitting empty threats at people, you seem to have forgotten that ginger over here is literally bleeding out. Let’s get this trainwreck on the road, yeah?”

Davis and Lydia’s eyes flicked between each other, Bentley, and Asten, before the former nodded. “It’s now or never.”

Lydia walked toward the door, grabbing onto Davis and Asten’s hospital gowns as she went, tugging them along. Bentley and Nico didn’t have much of a choice but to join them. “You’ll still see yourselves and each other, but no one else will. They can hear and feel us, though, so don’t be idiots.”

Bentley walked along, and he was thankful for Asten baring most of his weight — the strangely dull agony of the gunshot was sending waves of pain pulsing through his muscles, and it made his legs not want to work. It made nothing want to work, really — not even his brain, which was still getting fuzzier.

They left the Synchronizing room and moved into the long, sterile, white hallways, Lydia’s hand staying on the others’ gowns all the way. For now, the corridors were empty, but they branched off into other halls and areas not too far ahead of them, and Bentley wasn’t sure those would be so vacant. Red alarm lights were flashing in the halls, but there were no alarms.

“Titus is in the medical sector,” Davis nodded to the left, down the long hall. Thankfully, they weren’t facing all the dead people left in Davis’s wake. Bentley wasn’t sure he could stomach staring at them all again, black growing and writhing under their skin like a parasite. 

Lydia nodded. “Don’t pull away from me, and keep your mouths shut,” She ordered.

Bentley had no problem with that. The rag-tag group of five, one shot, one unconscious, all supposedly invisible, wearing matching hospital gowns made down the white hallways with Lydia at the lead. Bentley was hardly able to focus on anything except keeping his own two feet under him as Asten walked. Why was it so hard to move his feet the right way?

At one point, a group of guards with guns walked right past them without batting an eye, which meant they really were invisible. And Bentley had never been more grateful in his life.

For a long time, all Bentley saw was bright white and flashing red moving around him. The occasional guard or few passed every now and then, paying them no mind at all. Lydia’s plan was going, dare he say, good. Maybe he would actually make it home.

They were just about to pass a group of six, solid white, armored and gunned guards when Nico decided to wake up.

Screaming.

“No! No, I didn’t mean to! I didn’t mean to!”

Bentley was shocked back into reality at the noise, and everyone began to move. The guards whipped out their weapons, Nico flailed in Davis’s arms, Lydia whipped around to see what was going on and Asten flinched so violently he nearly dropped Bentley on his face. 

“Hey, hey, shh, shh, shh,” Davis tried to hush Nico. He was squirming to the point where Davis had to set him down in favor of not dropping him, his eyes wide and brimming with tears, and the guards were aiming their guns around the hallway in a blind panic. Lydia hadn’t let go of them, and the men in white looked confused, which was a good thing, Bentley thought.

…Until it wasn’t.

Until they began to pull the trigger of their guns blindly, one shot after another, each one aiming in the group’s general direction. There were probably ten or twelve gunshots that erupted from the group, at least two of which were aimed pretty darn close to Bentley and Asten. Lydia let go of everyone in a panic, making them visible to the world.

Bentley was overtake by dread at the realization that he was really dead now. And so was everybody else.

There was a flash of yellow lightning. 

Everyone stood, frozen, unmoving, unblinking. The guards didn’t move. None of Bentley’s group moved. Not a single one of the five captives hit the floor, screamed, or started bleeding like he’d anticipated. Bentley looked down at himself and Asten, examining for blood or gunshots hidden by adrenaline, but there was nothing. At least a couple of those guns had been aimed freakishly close to them.

Nico was now standing directly in front of Bentley and Asten, his chest heaving and eyes sparking with an ever present yellow electricity. His right hand was balled into a fist.

When opened it, all of the bullets that had just been shot fell through his fingers and dinged on the tile.

Suddenly, it all seemed to make sense in Bentley’s only half-working mind. Nico’s hands moving so fast he couldn’t see them, the yellow lightning, the letter from his real parents talking about the Speed Force — Nico had super-speed. Super-speed that was so fast he’d just caught a dozen bulletsthat had been shot not ten feet away from them.

The guards were stunned, and Davis used the moment of confusion to his advantage, flicking a glove off with one resounding click. 

Bentley jumped when more gunshots rang out — directed right at Davis. There was another flash of yellow lightning and Nico was in front of the men with the guns. He dropped another handful of bullets on the floor.

Bentley made sure to look away when Davis used his hands to kill the guards — just like he’d told him — but Asten watched in some mixture of horror and intrigue. Bentley saw Davis move in his peripheral, heard the dull thuds of the guards against the tile.

Nico stumbled back away from Davis, knocking into Asten, who almost dropped Bentley again. 

“Dude, that was awesome! You’re like the freaking flash!” He heard Asten mutter, like he wasn’t literally shot at twenty seconds ago.

Suddenly and silently, Lydia hit the floor in front of the three of them.

They all flinched and peered down at her — she had small streams of blood dripping from her nose, her eyes, her ears. She was staring at them… but wasn’t really looking. 

Bentley inhaled sharply when he realized that she wasn’t looking at all. That her chest wasn’t rising or falling, that she was laying eerily still. In his peripheral, he could see someone standing a ways off in the hallway. Someone with platinum hair and glowing yellow eyes, a twisted stitched smile that would forever be engraved in his mind.

Nico let out a strangled whine at the sight of Lydia’s body, and then promptly threw up in the floor. Asten had a grip on his shoulder with the arm that wasn’t around Bentley.

Davis was suddenly in front of them, obstructing their view of the Secret Keeper. He thrusted the keycard he’d been carrying around toward Asten. “You’re almost there! You just go to the next hall and turn left — you’ll be looking right inside his cell. That should open it. Go!”

Bentley’s heart was hammering in his ears, threatening to split his ribs clean open. Nico looked so pale he might pass out, he was crying again, arms wrapped around himself and looking really tiny. Asten took the hand off of his shoulder to grab the keycard.

Davis un-latched his other glove, but didn’t let it hit the floor yet. He pointed down the hallway when not one of them responded, glancing behind them. “Go!”

“What about you?” Bentley croaked, the sting of tears behind his eyes starting up again. He didn’t have much of a response when Asten rubbed his back. He wasn’t sure he could take any of the self sacrificial bullcrap — he wanted to survive and he wanted Asten to survive and Nico to survive and Davis to survive. Davis had to survive. He’d saved Bentley so many times and death was how he’d repay him?

“What’re you gonna do?” Bentley choked.

Davis turned, moving just enough so Bentley could see the silhouette of the Secret Keeper standing eerily still at the other end of the hall. Then the waiter smiled fondly, green eyes sparkling a little even despite the circumstances. “I’m going to try and have a conversation with my girlfriend.”

Bentley blinked. They all blinked, and he looked at Asten, who look at him, and then at Nico, who looked at them. 

“Charlie?” Asten muttered, eyes falling to the tile. “My God, you must’ve thought she was… for two years…“

“You guys need to get out of here. Get to safety,” Davis replied, agilely avoiding Asten’s statement. “Remember, the first hall that branches left, Titus will be straight ahead.”

Bentley pulled himself out of Asten’s hold and managed to stumble forward just far enough to wrap his arms around Davis’s torso with a poorly stifled round of crying. “Please don’t die.”

Davis patted the top of his head with his still-gloved hand. “You heard it yourself, kid — I am death. Now go.”

Bentley was gently pulled away by Asten’s hand, and despite everything that was screaming for him to stop, they ran. (Well, as much as Bentley could. He was more or less being dragged around by Asten, who had resumed their previous position.) They booked it down the sterile halls and turned down the first one to the left. This one was different — lined with large viewing windows that were accompanied by metal doors. At the end of the hall was a window and door, larger than the others. There weren’t any guards or scientists around. Not that they could see, anyway.

The three of them slowed to a walk, peering into the windows as they passed. Most of the rooms were empty, filled with cabinets of medical supplies and gurneys, but every now and then the gurney would have a human shaped bag that Bentley refused to look at any longer than he had to. Each room had a little plaque on the front, but none of them had any words on them. 

Not that he would be able to read them anyways. His crying had ramped back up to a ten at the very prospect of Davis going head-to-head with the Secret Keeper. He wasn’t… he couldn’t… Davis… he had to touch to kill. As far as Bentley knew, the Secret Keeper — Charlie — didn’t even have to seeher victim to kill them. It was a battle that was already lost, and Bentley already knew the winner.

He could barely breathe.

Asten dragged the heap of crying disaster until they made it to the dead-end, to the largest room. Bentley managed to see that, through his tears, the plaque on that door read: Titus Lancaster.

But the room was empty.

Asten stepped right up to the widow, so close that it fogged up the glass under his breath. “Merda.”

Any shred of hope Bentley had dissipated at the sight of the empty cell. Dr. Keene said on video that had to make it especially so Titus couldn’t teleport out — why would they take him somewhere else? It wasn’t time for his mind control surgery yet, unless Bentley had been in the Synchronizer for a longtime.

They were all going to die.

Nico anxiously ran his hands over his hair, a few quiet sobs wracking his whole body. “This is hopeless!”

Bentley hiccuped, trying his best to choke back the endless crying, trudging through the fog in his brain to try and remember anything else that might help them. Nico plunked himself down against the wall and cried unabashedly, just like he had at the bus stop. Asten stared into the room like, if he looked hard enough, Titus would materialize there.

Even through the crying and agony looming over his head, Bentley managed to remember Dr. Keene talking about when Titus got sick. He remembered seeing him in the hospital bed on the video, and he remembered the second video, where he made him perform his abilities so Bentley’s father could see. And at the end of the video, he said…

Bless him; he prefers to stay in the rafters of his enclosure like some kind of bird at the zoo.

Bentley suddenly leaned forward, peering through the glass up at the ceiling. There were metal beams that spanned the length of the room, and there was a dark blob resting on one. “Titus,” Bentley said, pointing toward the ceiling.

Asten followed his finger with his gaze, and Nico threw himself off of the floor, both peering through the glass. They seemed to visibly relax when their eyes landed on the blob. 

“Good eye, red,”

If Bentley were more lucid, he might’ve replied.

Just like all the other doors, there was a blue light next to the entrance to Titus’s cell — the one Davis had always tapped the keycard on. Below that light was a little screen, no bigger than Bentley’s hand, that read: EM Field Activated.

He and Asten shuffled toward the door, and the latter tapped the keycard on the light just like Davis had. After a moment, it turned green, and the words displayed on the screen changed — EM Field Deactivated.

The door slid open.

None of them moved for a moment, peering around, checking if there was a chance anyone had seen that. Through his own tears and now-slightly-blurry vision, Bentley couldn’t see much of anything except white. 

Asten cleared his throat. “Titus?”

Quickly, the blob in the rafters shifted around, presumably to get a good look at them. 

“A guy named Davis sent us. He… said you can teleport us out of here,”

In a whoosh of wind and color, Titus appeared in front of them. He looked worse than he had in the video — he was twelve, Bentley remembered, but looked like he didn’t even weigh sixty pounds soaking wet. The hospital gown swallowed him. He was only a little taller than Bentley, Nico’s height, but really frail looking. His skin was pale as a sheet of paper, and his deep gray eyes were sunken into his face, his nearly-black hair frizzed up in all directions.

Bentley wasn’t sure which of them was worse off.

Titus’s eyes flicked around warily, from Asten’s calculating stare, to Nico’s sobbing form, to Bentley’s half-red hospital gown. Then he looked at the door behind them, taking a few steps to comprehend if it was actually open or not. He seemed almost… afraid of it. Like he’d been tricked before, or something.

“Yeah, hey, we kinda need a fast exit here,” Asten said, glancing between Nico and Bentley, then looking back at Titus. “Will you help us? You’ll be able to escape, too.”

Titus’s deep gray eyes flicked between the three of them. “Don’t lie.”

“Wha- I’m not lying! We were kidnapped and put in a freaking oven and my friend got shot and we need to go!” Asten replied. Titus flinched backwards at the smallest raise of Asten’s voice, which Bentley didn’t much like.

Asten noticed and took a breath. “Please, Titus. We won’t hurt you. We need your help.”

“You’re just another test,” Titus muttered, backing up until he came in contact with the wall, sliding down until he could curl up on the floor and lacing his hands in his hair. “I’m not gonna try and escape, you can stop making me see things now.”

It made Bentley kind of sad how absolutely… broken Titus seemed. Like a kid that had been stripped of his entire personality and left with nothing but dread. What did he mean by seeing things? Had Dr. Keene been training him into submission like some kind of dog?

“Titus, hey,” Asten tried, looking to Nico for help. “We aren’t a test, we aren’t. You see the alarm lights in the hallway? We need your help getting out of here before guards come.”

Titus looked back up at them warily, his gray eyes watering. “Please go away.”

Gunshots came, making all four boys jump violently in their spots. There were no guards in their hallway yet, but Bentley could only assume the worst — that those had been aimed at Davis.

“Please!” Asten begged, looking out the window into the halls. “Please, please, please. Nothing bads going to happen, I promise. Just… please. We need out of here. Bentley needs a hospital.”

Panic shot through him like an arrow at those words, and he exclaimed: “No! Not a hospital — Wayne Manor.”

Asten didn’t seem to find it in him to correct him. 

“Please, you’re the only one here who can save us. Our friend Davis — you know Davis? — he’s fighting the Secret Keeper right now and-“ Asten breathed in, glancing into the hall anxiously. Bentley was getting so floaty it got kind of hard to tell what he was saying. “-take Bentley to the Manor, and you can take me to Crime Alley. Nico-“

“I’m going to your house,” Nico replied firmly, hazy gaze fixed on Asten. “I can’t… I can��t let my parents see me like this. All screwed up and played with. I can’t.”

Titus stared at them, and Asten huffed. “Okay. Bentley to the Manor, us to Crime Alley. Then you can go wherever you want. Please. Please.”

That was the moment Bentley promptly remembered that Titus’s parents were dead.

“Please?” Nico added, a desperate attempt at getting Titus to oblige.

“I… can… only go where I’ve seen before,” Titus said softly, carefully unraveling himself from the ball. “I can do… Wayne Manor. Not Crime Alley.”

Asten huffed. “That’s fine, that’s fine. We can figure that out after we get Bentley home.”

Titus let out a puff of air, then stepped forward slowly. He reached out, hesitantly, like they would bite him, and then he grabbed onto Asten and Nico’s wrists. “Don’t let go of him,” He ordered softly, gesturing to Bentley. “It’s gonna feel weird. Might hurt. Ready?”

Bentley wasn’t sure if he could survive any more hurt in one day.

Right then, a group of guards — probably ten — turned the corner into the hall. Bullets clinged wildly against the window of the room, not even making a dent in the glass.

“Go now! Go now!” Asten ordered. Titus closed his eyes, squeezed Bentley’s friend’s hands tighter, and then the world swam.

Bentley squeezed his eyes shut. It felt like he was falling, like he was spinning and whipping around in the air with zero control of where he was going. It felt like he had pins and needles across his entire body — the burn of his atoms being ripped apart and put back together in another location.

It only lasted for a split second, before there was a loud whooshing sound, and the ground seemed to rush into Bentley’s feet so hard he stumbled. It was cold, and Asten wasn’t holding onto him anymore, and he was laying on wet grass. He winced when the impact sent waves of pain pulsing through his whole body.

The only things that kept him conscious were the muted groans came from around him, so he looked up. The first thing he saw was the nights sky — big and black and cloudy. He, Asten, and Nico were sprawled on the dewy grass of Wayne Manor’s front courtyard, and Titus was in the middle of them, just standing there like nothing happened. He was spinning around, though, looking at the sky like he had never seen it before.

The Manor was there, glowing against the darkness of night. He didn’t know what day it was, what time it was, but he was home. Bentley had never wanted to bawl his eyes out more.

He used all of his remaining strength to haul himself out of the grass, his friends doing the same with grumbles of discomfort. His entire body seemed to be throbbing and screaming and he pretty much felt like a balloon with the amount of floating his head was doing.

“Want me to come with you?” Asten questioned, brushing dirt off of his hospital down. Bentley shook his head. 

“No,” He replied, bringing his hand up to rest against his injured arm. God, he looked like a disaster. He felt like a disaster.

And Davis might’ve been dead.

“You guys go. I don’t want you to get in trouble,” He forced the words out of his mouth, looking back at them, probably some of the hardest things he’d done. He wanted to pass out so bad. So bad.

“You’re planning on telling them?” Asten questioned, his voice laced with a little tinge of venom.

Bentley blinked, glancing between Nico, who looked terrified, and Asten, who looked suspicious. Even Titus, who was crying now (Bentley guessed it was because he was free?) turned to look at him.

“I… uh…” He did not have the capacity to make a case right then. He just wanted to go inside.

“You can’t tell them, Bentley. You’ll never be allowed out of the house again, and you’ll probably be banned from seeing us for the rest of your life,” Asten stated, throwing a hand to the side. “Plus, you’ll never see the Secret Keeper destroyed.”

“Are you kidding me?” Nico questioned, crossing his arms and peering over at Asten with a dull glare mixed with tears. “We just got kidnapped. Bentley got shot. I got turned into some kind of monster… how can you still care about that?! We could’ve died.”

“Because the Secret Keeper killed my parents! I’m not resting until she’s underground.” Asten shot back, and the lot of them went still. Bentley wasn’t sure if he should pretend he didn’t know that or not, so to play it cool, he just stood there. 

“You can’t tell Bruce, Bentley,” Asten directed his attention back to the redhead. “Lie to him; tell him you just got kidnapped and never saw us. We’ll be hiding out at my house, and no one will find us there, so we’ll still technically be missing. It won’t be so suspicious if we don’t show back up at the same time.”

A pit formed in Bentley’s stomach when he thought about lying to Bruce again, after all of that. It made him want to cry. All he wanted was to let them handle it.

He breathed in, stumbling faintly to the side. “I… I don’t…”

“You can’t tell him not to tell his dad, Asten. He got shot,” Nico spoke up, crossing his arms lightly. “That was freaking traumatizing and you’re asking him not to tell his family about it?”

“You’re hiding out at my house to avoid yours!” Asten argued, flicking a hand toward Nico.

“Because they’re not my real family!” Nico exclaimed, and Bentley blinked. Apparently they’d entered into truth-telling hour. “I’m adopted, and I can’t freaking look at them, okay?”

There was a brief moment of silence where Asten sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I know you’re into the whole can’t-tell-anybody-how-upset-I-am-so-I-bottle-it-up-and-act-broody thing, but not everybody is you, Asten. Some people will destroy themselves doing that,”

Asten huffed, looking back at Bentley and tossing his hands to the side. “Fine. Tell them whatever you want, Whittaker. I’m going to beat her with or without you. Let’s go. Gotham Heights.”

On command, Titus put a hand on both Nico and Asten’s shoulders, and without another word, they whooshed away in a mixture of color and wind. Bentley was left alone.

He breathed in the cold outside air, turning back to look at the Manor. He really had intended on telling Bruce everything, but now, he wasn’t sure what to do. 

For now, he settled on dragging himself to the front door.

What was he going to say? How was he going to explain? He was pulling himself shot and half dead up to the door of Wayne Manor after hours, maybe days of being missing. He’d run away, broken into a cabin, gotten kidnapped, experimented on, watched one of his friends get turned into a metahuman, and got teleported home by a boy with superpowers. How was he supposed to tell them that?

Plus, he was pretty sure as soon as he saw somebody’s face, he’d start crying.

He made it onto the front entrance, facing those massive wooden doors just like he had the night Nightwing brought him to the Manor for the first time. Why were those doors scarier now than they had been then?

Bentley glanced down at himself. At his half-red hospital gown, his botched shoulder, his bare feet and bloodied skin. He looked like a disaster. He felt like a disaster. He was a disaster.

What was he going to say?

With not much more motivating him than the fact that he felt like death, he lifted a hand and tried the doorknob. Locked.

With a puff of air, he knocked.

A few terrible moments passed where he stood alone on the front step, waiting to see if salvation would come.

And then it did.

The door to Wayne Manor swung open.

“Bentley?”

Like that was the exact moment his body had been waiting for, the darkness he’d been fighting all night finally swept him away. And he let it.

—

dedicated to @sassenashsworld 💚

—

tag list! (If you want me to remove or add you, ask in comments!)

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @flyrobinflyy @skylathescholar @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun @xiaonothere

#batboys #batfamily #batman #oc; bentley whittaker #oc; bentley #oc; asten #oc; asten evans #oc; nico rockefeller #oc; nico #oc; nico allen #oc; davis henderson #oc; titus lancaster #oc; titus #oc; davis #ov; charlie reins #ov; secret keeper #ov; the secret keeper #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #barbara gordon #dick grayson #jason todd #cassandra cain #tim drake #stephanie brown #duke thomas #damian wayne #oracle #nightwing #red hood

[plussizefantasia]

Hallow's Eve

Flufftober Day 24: Ghost AU

Matt Murdock x ghost!reader

Word Count: 1.5k

AN: This one really isn't my favorite but I think that's just because I'm not very good at writing Matt. Anyway... Reblogs and Feedback are always appreciated and I'll see y'all tomorrow.

divider credit @royallaesthetics

Matt didn’t celebrate Halloween, he doesn’t really remember when he stopped just that Stick thought it was childish, and there wasn’t time for silly little traditions when he had much more important things to do. 

“You’re telling me that all other 364 days a year, you roam around the neighborhood in a red devil costume but, you don’t celebrate Halloween.” Foggy had asked incredulously when he asked Matt if he wanted to go out and pretend to be younger than they were for the one night a year it was socially acceptable.

“That is exactly what I’m telling you. Besides Foggy, I’m busy, we’ve got a case to present on Monday and we don’t have a solid argument yet. I will be here, doing my job until my job is done.”

“You’re an enigma man. Sometimes it’s like I don’t even know you.”

“Not funny Foggy, I’ll see you on Monday.”

It was pure luck that Halloween fell on a Friday this week, it meant that Foggy who no longer had the metabolism that he did in college would have two days of recovery time. And he would be able to actually do his job on Monday, which was important given that his name was on the front door.

Matt continued working through the sounds of drunken cheers that floated from down the street. He worked until the moon had risen, and risen and risen a little further until it was a little ways past the middle.

That's when you showed up. People weren’t wrong when they said that there was a stronger connection to the spirit world on Halloween. You’d been watching this man work all night, but you couldn’t understand why exactly he had all the lights off. It hadn’t been recently that you died, but when you did you were pretty sure that most humans couldn’t read in the dark.

When the clock struck three though, the witching hour began and you could feel yourself beginning to take shape. Still in the clothes you were in when you died, your silhouette began to fade into existence. 

Had Matt actually been able to really see he would instantly clock the faint glow that surrounded your body. The way that he could sort of see the other side of his office through your body. He would’ve been able to see that you weren’t really alive.

“Do you normally work in the dark?” You cautioned a question. The man hadn’t freaked out which from your understanding was usually the first thing the living did when they were presented with something they didn’t understand. They tried to kill it which in your case had already been done, or they ran away in fear. This man hadn’t done either and you were far too curious to let it go.

Matt, at hearing your words practically jumped three feet in the air. His heart started racing and it was all he could hear. The blood rushed in his ears as he spun around to try and locate the random person who had actually managed to sneak up on him.

He didn’t think it was possible for someone to really sneak up on him, but perhaps he was so entranced in his work that he didn’t hear you come in. Nevertheless, he had an act to upkeep so he mustered up enough breath to send you back a shaky reply.

“Um.. yes, yes I do it saves money on the energy bill and I don’t really need them.” He gestured to the glasses on his face and the cane was leaning against his desk.

‘Oh! Oh. That makes much more sense. I thought you were just really weird.”

“Well that hasn’t actually been ruled out yet.” Matt Shrugged. “So why are you here at…” he felt the numbers displayed on the braille clock Karen had given him for Christmas the past year “3:05 in the morning on Halloween of all nights.”

“I think I should be asking you that question.” You shot back, not wanting to explain that you had died in this building and were stuck in a perpetual state of haunting until you “finished your unfinished business” or some crap like that.

“I have a big case on Monday and I need to work on my argument, although I’ve been working for hours and haven’t really gotten much closer.”

“You’re a lawyer?” You asked.

“Um, Yeah? Nelson and Murdock, it’s on the door.” Matt pointed toward the front door. And after a brief look of your own, you realized he was right. There it was Nelson and Murdock, attorneys at law. “If you don’t mind me asking, why are you here? If you don’t need a lawyer.”

“Do you believe in ghosts?” You asked the man.

Matt was taken aback by the question, it was an abrupt change in topic but one that he figured was pretty on brand given the holiday.

“No. No, I believe in heaven and hell and that everyone goes to one or the other.” He succinctly summarized.

“Well, what about the people who don’t go anywhere? What about the spirits stuck in between?”

“I’m not sure there are any.”

“There are.” Your conviction was surprising to Matt. What was more surprising to him though, was that you didn't have a heartbeat. He didn’t really catch onto it first, with his own heartbeat strong in his ears at first he wouldn’t have been able to hear yours if he tried. But now that he had tried and failed he was struggling with coming up with an explanation.

You were seeing in real time the struggle Matt was having within himself. 

“Why don’t you have a heartbeat?”

“What?”

“I can hear everyone’s heartbeat, I’ve been able to hear every heartbeat of everyone I’ve met for a very long time but I can’t hear yours. Why?” 

“Dead people don’t usually have heartbeats.”

“You can’t be dead you’re talking.” Matt shot back, beginning to sound slightly out of breath.

“Well, that’s just not true. Because I am dead, and I am talking and you can hear me so…”

“I’m going crazy. Or I fell asleep at my desk. Or…” You heard Matt begin to mumble to himself.

“What is your favorite color?”

‘Can’t see color.”

“Really? That must be terribly dull.”

“It can be”

“Well then what is your favorite animal?” You questioned.

“Why?” He asked, still slightly out of breath.

“Humor me.”

“Umm, a dog.”

Matt’s breath slowly evened out. He wasn’t actively panicking which was good, the last thing you wanted was for him to fall and hit his head and for people to think he was crazy when he woke up speaking about ghosts. 

“I didn’t mean to freak you out. But whether you like it or not, I am stuck here for the next,” You looked around the room for a clock, finding one hanging on the wall of a closed-off room surrounded by glass “Thirty-five minutes.”

“What do you mean stuck here?” 

“I can’t leave this building, and I get a little more faded the further I walk from this room at all.”

“Why?”

“I’m not sure you want to know.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I was killed in this room, didn’t see who did it, didn’t know it happened until it was already over. I can’t leave because my spirit is tied here. Believe me, I would if I could. Who wants to spend the rest of eternity tied to an old office building?” You let out a self-deprecating laugh.

‘I’m sorry” Matt had whispered. 

“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, I’ve come to terms with it all.”

“Is there anything I can do? Or?”

“I’m not sure, Supposedly if I finish my unfinished business I’ll be able to move on but I’m not sure what that would be. Or how I would be able to finish it when I only become really formed for an hour every year.”

You two existed in silence for several moments. You, contemplating what it was that got you stuck here in the first place, and Matt thinking he was crazy for offering his help to an actual ghost.

“I could look into your story if you want.” He cut the silence.

“Really? You’d do that?”

“Yeah, why not? I’d just need your name.”

‘Y/N, Y/N L/N.” you smiled.

You two spent the next twenty minutes talking about the last day that you could remember, anything that might help Matt in his search for more information about you. And when you could feel yourself beginning to fade as the hour expired you were feeling a lot lighter than you had any Hallow’s Eve before.

“Thank you, Matt.”

#matt murdock #plus size reader #plus size!reader #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #x reader #fanfic #fluff #flufftober #drabble #matt murdock x plus size reader #matt murdock fanfic #matthew murdock #daredevil #netflix daredevil #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader

[xsweetcatastrophe]

You Broke Me First

Part 17

Zoe had a smile on her face from the second she got that text from Cillian, all throughout the hot shower she took, picking out clothes, getting dressed, picking up coffee and driving to work.

She picked out a white sleeveless bodysuit with structured shoulders, black pleated dress pants and some mules. She put on her gold bracelets that her grandmother passed down to her when she died (they were in her jewelry box collecting dust) and put on some gold necklaces and earrings. Instead of straightening her hair or putting it in a messy bun like usual, she decided to add some product to it and let it stay wavy, blow drying it upside down and scrunching it so it had volume. Zoe's hair was naturally very wavy and normally she hated it, but she decided to embrace it today.

I look like a lion, she thought to herself as she took one final look in the mirror.

Zoe arrived at work and walked in with her head held high. She walked down the long hallway towards her office, past the cubicles of junior writers that once stared her down. She felt confident, she felt happy, she felt wanted. Cillian had transformed her entire mood. If she knew one blackout night and a sloppy facetime call to him would change everything, she would of done this a long time ago.

She closed her office door, set her bag and coffee down, and sat at her desk. First things first - music. She opened her spotify and shuffled her "liked songs" playlist.

She took out her notebook and opened to the most recent page. She always made a "to do" list for the following day at the end of her day. Since she didn't get anything done on Monday, she wanted to speed through her to do list for Monday and play catch up for today:

Monday:

schedule Emma Stone interview- get talking points and questions

try and get contact info for wardrobe assistant for Poor Things - check with Casey from accounting?? cousin was a PA on set or something??

follow up with editor for Cill article --- where is it haven't had any feedback in weeks?????

see if can get invite for new PR firm party next month - Jlo should be there with Ben

speaking of ben - see if i can get a contact for jennifer garner, want to do segment for her Pretend Cooking Show and possibly do ina Garten collab -- pitch to Donna first

Zoe didn't get a chance to get started on anything before there was a knock on the door.

"Come in-" Zoe started, but the person had walked in anyway. "Oh, hey Mia"

Mia was one of the junior writers at Zoe's job. She latched onto Zoe as a mentor and always asked her to proofread her articles and, in turn, became somewhat close to Zoe.

Mia closed the door and sat down in the chair across from Zoe.

"Something is going on and you're not telling me" Mia said.

"What do you mean?"

"You seem... happier... well no shit, you're dating a movie star, I bet you jetted off to San Tropez for the weekend and spent it on a yacht" Mia said.

"Mia, you couldn't be more wrong" Zoe said, laughing while reminiscing of her spilling out of the dive bar Sunday night. Not exactly San Tropez.

"Ugh, I hate you so much," Mia said, leaning back into the chair and looking up at the ceiling. "How does it feel to be the envy of every girl ever?"

"Oh, stop it" Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

"Zo, you're dating Tommy Shelby. Girls have wet dreams about being with Tommy Shelby."

"I'm not dating Thomas Shelby" Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

"He still has the haircut. So at least you can pretend" Mia pointed out.

"Do you need help with something?" Zoe said, half jokingly and half serious. She felt uncomfortable talking about her relationship with Cillian, mainly because she still didn't feel comfortable lying about it. She rather avoid the entire topic all together.

"Just tell me one thing, please" Mia said, leaning forward in her chair, elbows on her knees and lowering her voice, "Is the sex good at least? Tell me it's mind blowing"

Couldn't tell ya, Mia, Zoe thought.

"Its... it's indescribable" Zoe settled on. Not exactly a lie, right? You can't describe what you don't remember.

"Ugh, I bet!" Mia said, standing up. "I'll tell you one thing" She continued as she walked towards the office door, "If he ever comes to visit you and I'm alone with him the elevator, i can't make promises I won't keep my hands to myself" She said, sticking her tongue out.

"You're a creep, close my door" Zoe said, rolling her eyes.

Before the door could click shut, it swung open again.

"Hi Honey!" Donna said dramatically, walking in.

"Hey Donna" Zoe smiled sweetly.

"Listen, sweetie, about your Cillian article," Donna paused, "I think it's best if we shelf it for the time being."

Zoe was heartbroken. "What???" why? it's with the editors, I was actually going to follow up so I can get it to publishing"

"Actually, I pulled it from the editors last week and it's been with me on my desk all this time" Donna said, looking out the windows behind Zoe's desk.

"What? why?" Zoe asked again.

"I just think... We, the partners feel that with your current 'relationship' status that an article written by you about him wouldn't exactly go over well" she stated.

"So it's a dead interview?" All that work for nothing. She's in a fake relationship because of this interview! well.... not fake feelings... I think.. Zoe thought, started to spiral.

"We are thinking about how to proceed, we might shelf it, or we might re-do the piece with Cynthia conducting the interview instead"

Zoe saw red. "Donna" She started

"Oh Zoe don't start. Enough with this rivalry. You need to bury this" Donna said, walking towards the door. "Again, no decision has been met yet, I just wanted to keep you posted. Lets do lunch later this week sweetie, i'll see you later" She said, leaving just as fast as she arrived.

Zoe sat there in silence, trying to figure out how she felt about those two interactions.

On one hand, she liked that she was the envy of the females, according to Mia. Even though it's technically a contract relationship, the feelings are real... right? right.

As for the piece... that flat out pissed her off. Cynthia and Zoe got hired at the same time, but where Zoe had to show a lengthy portfolio of articles she's done, Cynthia's father "donated" new Mac computers to the entire building. Her heart wasn't in the storytelling part of journalism, she wanted to be close to celebrities and be one. Granted, Zoe was the one who was now dating one..... but Zoe didn't intend for that to happen. Cynthia tries to date everyone she interviews - what if she makes a move on Cillian??? No, she wouldn't. She knew they were in a relationship... right?

Zoe threw her pen on her desk and leaned back in her chair. This day started off so promising, so positive and happy, and now she had a knot in her chest.

Just then, her phone went off, a text.

From Cillian.

Dinner tonight? your place? unless you're sick of me xx

Zoe smiled.

-My to do list got cut in half, i'm leaving here at 4. Gonna stop at the store first, meet at my place at 5? -sounds good love. xx

Okay, that's something to look forward to I guess. Zoe thought. She'll pick up a bottle of wine and relax with her boyfriend.

Her boyfriend.... her"boyfriend"? Her contractually obligated boyfriend?

Cillian. She'll relax with Cillian.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Zoe pulled up to her apartment to Cillian sitting on the front steps. She parked and hopped out of the car carrying the bottle of wine.

"Hey you" Cillian said, standing up and immediately pulling her into a kiss. "You look absolutely beautiful."

"Thank you" Zoe smiled. She looked behind him on the steps and noticed the pizza box. "Pizza night?" She asked.

"Yea, I didn't know what to get last minute, and didn't want to show up empty handed, and I figured it's a safe bet" He said, shrugging his shoulders.

"Of course pizza is a safe bet. Lets go upstairs" She said, silently thanking god that she straightened up her apartment before she left that morning.

They went up the stairs and entered the apartment, placing the pizza and wine on the counter.

Zoe turned around, half expecting Cillian to pounce on her. She knew there was sexual frustration since last night, and she wanted to continue what they started.

But, much to her dismay, Cillian began to get the wine glasses out of the cabinet and uncork wine, pouring Zoe a glass first. He carried the pizza box and his wine to the coffee table, placing them down and sitting on the couch in front of it. He opened the pizza box before yelling back to her "Hey, can you grab napkins for us?"

Hm. okay. a little bit too domesticated for me tonight, but okay, Zoe thought, grabbing some napkins. She kicked off her shoes and sat next to him on the couch, accepting a slice from him.

They made small talk about their day, and Zoe asked how the house hunting went. Cillian's mood suddenly changed.

"It's turning into a nightmare" He said, shaking his head.

"Why?"

Cillian sighed. "because now that she signed the papers, she wants this done, like yesterday. As if she wasn't the one who dragged this out for so long. She wants me out of the house in the next couple of days or else the buyer is gonna walk away. So I need to be out of the house by Thursday"

Zoe stopped chewing. "Cillian... its literally Tuesday"

"Yea, no shit" Cillian huffed. "I found a house, put in an offer, but no way it'll be ready by Thursday. It's fine. I have my assistant looking for an airb&b for me in the meantime, but I have to board Scout, which I don't like"

Zoe had an idea.

"Well... you can stay here" Zoe said.

Cillian looked at her. "I don't know, love, I don't want to be in your way-"

"This sounds like a conversation we had last yesterday, except roles were reversed" Zoe laughed. "But I'm serious. I'm assuming all of your furniture is going to storage, correct?"

Cillian nodded. "They started today actually"

"So pack a bag for a couple of days, bring Scout, and stay here. Stay for as long as you need. I know it's not much, we have ubers here, the streetlight outside flickers all night, the hot water takes a minute to get luke warm, if you want hot you gotta wait about 5 minutes, and the walls are a little thin, but it's not that bad. And you're more than welcome here" Zoe said, standing up and heading into the kitchen.

"Are you allowed to even have pets here?" Cillian said, standing up and following her.

"Yea it's fine, there are dogs here. And this way if the house falls through, you can look for another one and not have to worry about extending the airb&b or finding a new one"

Zoe was drying her hands on the dishtowel when she felt Cillian wrap his arms around her from behind, nuzzling into her neck. "But where would I sleep?" He teased.

Zoe smiled. "Scout and I already claimed the bed. You sir are getting the couch" She teased back.

"mhmmm, and I bet you'll be on the couch with me before you fall asleep" He said, starting to kiss your neck.

Zoe rolled her head to the side, making it easier for him to kiss her neck. He squeezed her tighter in his arms, making Zoe sigh and relax into him. He suddenly stopped and spun her around; she was now facing him, nose to nose, still trapped in his arms.

"Ok," He whispered. "But you gotta let me help out"

"Help with what?" Zoe laughed. "It's not hard to manage a 900 square foot apartment, I assure you"

"I could be a pain, you could end up hating me by the time this is done" He said softly, hands traveling from her back to her hips, right where the hem of her jeans sat.

"I could handle you" Zoe responded, which prompted Cillian to raise an eyebrow and smirk.

"Alright love," He said, fingertips gently dipping into her jeans, rubbing the soft flesh of her stomach.

"You wanna play house? Lets play house."

tags: @lau219 @shopgirl6us

#cillian x fem!reader #cillian fic #cillian murphy x oc #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy

[gurugirl]

The Queen's Secret | Chapter 13*

Summary: The getaway was bittersweet for the Queen and her Prince, but she begins to feel happier as her belly grows with his baby, though Harry winds up making a rash decision that could change everything.

A/n: This chapter covers a few months of time - beginning from where we left off last chapter to a few months later where the chapter ends. FYI. 5k words

Warning: Smut, angst, talk of depression and anxiety

The Queen's Secret Masterlist

Chapter 12*

Chapter 13*

A few days, alone, together felt so delicate yet so blissful. Delicate because there was the lingering dread of knowing this was all they would get and every single little moment they had together would be precious. Blissful because it was comforting, and they could touch and kiss and hold and talk and love and express themselves freely. When the Queen admitted to Harry that she wanted to run away with him and his response was one of logic and reason, it also dampened the mood from the start. It wasn’t brought up again during their little getaway, the prospect of the lovers going away and never coming back. Y/n didn’t want to hear Harry repeat his words about losing his children. She knew he would never abandon them. It’s part of what made him so desirable.

Harry wanted to give in to his longing and run off like a man with no responsibilities, but he couldn’t because he was a man with children who needed him. And he needed them just the same.

The pair spent much time together in bed making love, chatting, touching, and pretending with one another. Harry would leave every morning to go to and check-in at the hotel he’d booked for the night and would return after lunch time where Y/n would have made some sort of meal.

Y/n was not good in the kitchen. She could make various things that were fine, but that consisted of easy salads, pasta with oil and garlic, sandwiches, and hot tea. Harry didn’t care much, he wasn’t there for delicious meals. But he was hungry. Harry was a man with a large appetite. Even Gertrude didn’t cook, they had help with those things.

“Tonight we’re making a big dinner, together. Salad and tea for lunch every day isn’t enough, my love,” Harry spoke as they finished off the bit of lunch that Y/n had waiting for him when he got back to the small house.

“Okay. What should we make?” The Queen did feel bad about her lack of knowledge in the kitchen. It was normal, though, for someone like her to not have a good grasp on preparing and making meals. She knew Harry was a big guy with a body that needed more calories than hers did.

“We’ll figure it out. I think we’ve got some steak in the refrigerator and you can make us another one of your delicious salad as well. I’ll think of another dish to make to go with it. And I’m going to make you a dessert my mother used to make. S’not fancy but it’s really good and I think you’ll like it.”

The Queen was so happy with Harry. She wished that he could be with her all the time. The idea that in only a day their time would be up again made her feel sick. It nearly ruined her happiness, just the thought of their time being up. Like when you are enjoying your Sunday but suddenly you remember you have to work on Monday and it dulls the enjoyment. The persistent reality of their situation hung over them like a dark cloud.

But it was no different for Harry. He was feeling anxious about leaving Y/n and going back home to Gertrude. This was a problem, however, because the lovers didn’t mention their fears to one another and so the looming threat of not seeing one another ate into their joy while they were together.

After putting the dirty dishes into the sink Harry lifted Y/n and carried her bridal style toward the living room.

“Harry!” She yelped when Harry suddenly grabbed her and pulled her up into his arms.

He chuckled with a smile, “What?”

The couch found Y/n’s back and she sat up with a grin, “What are you doing?”

She knew what Harry was doing. He not only had a big appetite for food, but he also had a big appetite for her, especially when unencumbered by responsibilities. Without answering her he climbed onto the couch and pulled her pants down her legs where he put his warm lips over her thighs and kissed his way upward to her cotton panties.

Harry loved getting her panties wet with his saliva, and then eventually from her own arousal. She watched as Harry began to apply open-mouthed kisses over the portion of the fabric that sat over her labia. She sighed and smiled. She hadn’t had so many orgasms in all her life. When she and Harry had their sessions sometimes she’d get two orgasms, but on their getaway, three days together, she couldn’t count how many he’d given her. Half of their time was spent with his face in between her thighs. And every time she kissed him he smelled of her.

But he enjoyed it. He loved gifting her with love and physical attention. He hated to leave every morning to go and check in at the hotels he’d booked, but the rest of their time he didn’t let her out of his sight. He was always dragging her to sit in his lap, he’d hold her hand when they were doing something as simple as chatting or walking from the bedroom to the back garden. He’d walk up behind her and wrap his arms around her, he'd kiss all over any part of her skin that was bare to him. He’d grab her arms and make her sway with him as if there was music playing for them to dance to. Harry was a big romantic. He loved touch and nearness. He loved to make love. And he was good at all of it.

“Take them off! You haven’t made love to me yet today. I really need you…” Y/n whined as Harry flattened his tongue over the crotch of her cotton panties.

Harry had left a little earlier this morning because the hotel was an hour away so he didn’t want to disturb the Queen when she seemed so sleepy. He had done a number on her the night before, though, so he figured he’d give her a little break that morning. But now she wanted him. Her hormones were on fire and she was feeling so good in Harry’s presence.

“Ooh… baby, you’re right. Let’s see…” Harry dragged her panties down her legs and threw them off into the room near wherever her pants had landed earlier, “yes. I see you do need me. In a bad way too, Y/n. God if you could only see this…” he rubbed his thumb over her pussy and spread her apart so he could see her entrance and collected the arousal that built up between her crease. He looked up at Y/n and brought his thumb up to his mouth, licking her juices off.

Y/n loved the way Harry handled her. She loved how much attention he gave her and how he insisted on her pleasure above all.

Harry pulled his pants off and then his boxers before yanking his sweater off over his head, “Take your shirt off. Let me see those tits.” Harry grinned.

She sat up and removed her shirt, to reveal there was no bra underneath, but Harry already knew there would be no bra. He’d already felt her up and she also hadn’t been wearing a bra since they arrived at the house. It hadn’t been necessary.

The moment her nipples came into his view he leaned over her, each palm cupping a breast and he kneaded gently at the tender bits. He licked his lips and dipped down to suck one into his mouth and the Queen put her hands into Harry’s hair. He loved sucking on her tits.

“Wish I could suckle on these all the time. God, Y/n… our baby is going to be well-fed, isn’t he?” Harry smiled at her and then dropped down to wrap his lips around the other breast and pulled at her nipple with his lips as his tongue laved over her soft skin.

She laughed at her lover. They had been going back and forth about what they thought the child would be. A he or a she. It didn’t matter really, to either. It was more of a little game.

“I will do my best to nourish her, yes,” she gasped when Harry’s mouth pulled at her nipple a little harder and she rocked her hips upward.

Harry sat up and lifted Y/n’s leg that was closest to the back of the couch and spread her other leg outward so her foot was dangling off the side toward the floor. He slotted his hips in between her legs and his cock was heavy over her belly. She reached down and gently pet at it with her eyes on Harry’s.

Harry stayed like that for a moment in between her legs, his cock lying over her center before he looked down between them and grasped the base of himself, and proceeded to slick himself through her labia, wetting his girth with her arousal.

The pair were silent as Harry finally prodded his wide tip to her wet hole and the moment he pushed inside they both dropped their mouths open.

Harry gently rocked in and out until he could finally submerge into her fully, “Like it when I stuff you? Pour everything I have into you and make you pregnant? Make your belly swell with my come?”

Y/n nodded and grasped onto his bottom to make him press in further. She wanted him in as deep as possible. It hurt a little when he’d submerge in all the way because he was quite long, but she adored the way it felt and the way it ached when his tip met her cervix and pushed her walls apart, “Yes. I love it when my belly bulges with your cock. Like this…” she looked down to where Harry was deep inside of her and she brought a hand around from Harry’s bottom to between them where it was wet and then pressed over her tummy where she could feel Harry inside moving in and out of her.

They both moaned and when Harry felt the pressure of her hand over her tummy, pushing into Harry’s cock he closed his eyes and wished that he could sear the feeling into his brain forever.

“God, baby. I love you so much,” Harry groaned and he brought his lips to hers and began to press in deep, upward thrusts, achy and tight and wet.

Y/n enjoyed pregnancy sex more than she thought she would. Being pregnant had made her feel a little off, but every time Harry entered her or ate her out she was bursting out of her skin. Her hormones were crazy and Harry felt so good.

Their panted breaths and the slick sounds of their bodies moving together seemed to be the background noise for most of their little getaway.

The Queen tipped over fast. Her ears began to ring as her orgasm spread throughout her body. Harry couldn’t hold his own back the moment he felt her clenching around him. He groaned as he released inside of the Queen, stilling his hips, pushing into her as deep as he could possibly get.

The lovers on their last day spent much of their time touching, laughing, dancing, and fucking. The Queen didn’t want to bring up again what she’d said to him their first evening together about running away. She felt silly for even suggesting it. But the truth was that she was quite serious. If there could be a way for them to go away together without repercussions she’d suggest it. She didn’t want to be without Harry. Not ever again. The weeks without him had been hell. She put on a smile and pretended she wasn’t sad or longing for the Prince, but she was aching and depressed inside when they couldn’t be together.

And now, their final evening was happy but the anticipation of parting again hung over them thick and they could both feel the darkness just around the corner. They held onto one another closely. Dinner had them cooking together and dancing while the pasta boiled and then the Queen was pulled into Harry’s lap at the dinner table where they ate.

Harry insisted on Y/n sitting in his lap. Their plates sat next to one another as they ate and Harry cut his steak and spoke about an old coffee shop that had closed down a few years prior and how the owner had moved to another country for retirement.

Y/n found it difficult to eat while sitting in Harry’s lap but she didn’t mind it. Having her bottom on his warm thigh and the closeness was sweet. She’d dream of this moment for many years to come. She wished she didn’t have to give it up, though.

Harry sensed Y/n’s sadness but that’s because he was feeling it as well. Tomorrow would be a day of stress filled with tears.

“I’m going to miss you, Y/n,” Harry spoke as he wrapped his arms around the Queen and pressed his face into her neck, inhaling her scent.

Y/n closed her eyes and leaned her head toward where Harry had put his face onto her skin and she brought her hands up to hold over Harry’s arms. She closed her eyes and nodded, “I’m going to miss you too, Harry.”

As wonderful as being together for three days was, the parting was the most difficult thing either had ever done. They both understood their roles and what it meant that they were going back to Manon. They’d look for opportunities to continue their affair from time to time but it would not be something that could be done often and with ease as they had already come to find out.

When Harry finally left the following day and the Queen was alone in the house she began to feel hopeless. Her world had just crumbled all around her when he told her he wouldn’t run away with her and she’d been doing well to hold it all together while he was with her. Because his presence and his voice and his touch were soothing and calming. But now he was headed home to his children and a wife he no longer loved.

They both sobbed tears and clung to one another before Harry had to drag himself from his lover and get into his vehicle to drive away. He’d meant to leave earlier, but it took a good hour to get his heart and his mind straightened out from how devastated he was. And he didn’t want to leave the Queen in the state she was in but he had to.

Two days alone in a house without anyone around could have been her undoing. She walked through the rooms and the yard with wet cheeks and a broken heart. The bed smelled of Harry and the sink was full of dirty dishes that she made when she thought she’d try and cook herself something to eat but instead burned it all and wept as a result of Harry being gone, the food being inedible, and her severe loneliness.

She forced herself to eat for the sake of the baby, but if she had not been pregnant she was sure she would have starved herself.

The Queen didn’t leave her bed for days. When Edgar returned from his trip he called for the doctor to come and check on her. She’d barely eaten, and had done nothing but cry since he’d returned and he couldn't understand why.

Rory came to see her friend as well when Edgar didn’t know what to do to liven her up.

The doctor took her blood pressure, drew blood, and checked all of her vitals. He gave her a prescription for anxiety and recommended that she leave the castle for a walk with someone at least once per day.

When everyone had gone and it was just Rory and the Queen, Rory stayed by her bed and held her hand until she was ready to talk. But she knew what had the Queen so down. The trip away with Harry must have been the cause.

“I am in love with a man whom I cannot be with. It’s my fault. I hate myself for it. And now my hormones are absolutely destroying my mental stability. I feel like I’m losing my mind. Like I’m going to go mad. I’ve never felt like this before, Ror. I don’t know what to do.”

There were no answers. Things must go on regardless of the way the Queen felt.

When the Queen’s belly began to start showing signs of the baby inside, her heart changed and grew lighter. She had been sad and emotional, depressed and anxious, but now that her body was feeling a bit better and her belly was showing proof that she was carrying Harry’s baby things felt more calm and sweet in life.

She would send pictures to Harry so he could see her belly grow and they’d talk nearly every day when Harry could get some privacy. The Queen began to feel good. She was happy that she was going to be a mother.

The first couple of months were very hard on Y/n. The pregnancy hormones affected her mood and her emotions. She was severely depressed. Part of that was because she couldn’t be with Harry, but the chemical reaction created with the hormones from pregnancy made her feel off balance.

Harry missed the Queen desperately too. And he knew she had been depressed and moody. He began to have quick meet-ups with Rory to get updates about her that the Queen wasn’t forthright with. She’d been telling Harry she was fine, but he knew she wasn’t. So learning about her depression from Rory had him worried. But eventually, the updates Rory supplied him with were that she was happy. Finally.

The longer they went without seeing one another, the easier it became for them. They still missed one another but the ache was dull and not so sharp as it had been at the beginning.

When Y/n finally went to the doctor to determine what sex the baby was, Rory and her sister Alma were with her. The doctor announced after the ultrasound that the baby would be a female. A girl. It was quite a joyous moment. Just to know this little bit about her baby. The moment she was out of the clinic she texted Harry, asking him to call her when he got a moment. He knew she was going to have her ultrasound and so he had been anticipating the message.

With both Rory and Alma in on the Queen’s secret, having her speak with her lover in front of them was only slightly awkward, but not a surprise. The Queen gushed to Harry that they were having a girl and Harry had to take a seat as he listened to his Queen. He missed her. Her sweet voice and the occasional picture were nice for him, but he wanted to have her in his arms. Needed to feel her and smell her again. This news had him digging into his heart once again. Had him feeling like he’d made a mistake by not running away with her or being open to some kind of plan.

The King was happy about the news when Y/n finally told him. A little girl would soon be present in the castle and it seemed to make Y/n happy. But as happy as the king was he told Y/n they would need to have her become pregnant with a boy. A boy could one day be king. A little girl could not. It was only a small bit of surprise to the Queen that Edgar’s response would be as it was. She understood how the royal line worked. She put her hands onto her rounded tummy and leaned back in the chair, “Well, we’ll worry about all that after she’s born. I’m just enjoying being pregnant with her right now.”

The idea of having sessions with Harry again was a pleasant one. She knew it would be good with him, but her current contentment and happiness were her priority. She couldn’t worry too much about that kind of future. She was focused on her baby and the future her little girl would have. She was focused on keeping herself happy and calm in the face of imperfect circumstances. She didn’t know what to expect beyond the birth of her little girl. She didn’t know if Harry would still hold as much power over her heart as he currently did. She couldn’t imagine that she’d ever love him any less, but she was aware that her focus had shifted slowly once the little one that grew inside of her began to kick and move about. No, she would never love him less. The child that grew inside of her was part of Harry’s creation too. She felt it could only make her love him more.

She was going to be a mother now. Things were happening quickly. Her clothes were all traded for ugly maternity ones. Her well-fitted gowns were switched for empire waist styles. Her tummy grew and stretched and her back was sore, and her tits were heavy and ached. But she was happy. And that was all she could ask for given the situation.

One morning the Queen slept in a bit longer than usual. Normally she’d be up early because sleeping sometimes was uncomfortable. But on this morning, she was feeling good. Her back wasn’t as achy as it had been the night before. She slowly blinked her eyes open and was startled when she saw Edgar sitting in a chair next to her, watching.

“Edgar you startled me. What are you doing?” The Queen pushed herself up to her elbows and blinked her sleepy eyes.

“Harry is insisting on seeing you. He’s come to the castle. He’s here now but he’s being escorted out.” The king sat back with his arms crossed, not a speck of emotion visible in either his posture or on his face.

Y/n sat up the rest of the way, “What do you mean? What did he do? Why is he being escorted out?” The peaceful sleep the Queen had achieved was now like a nightmare. Her heart raced and her head felt like it was being squeezed.

“What I mean is that he came here, caused a scene, and yelled at me. He said he needed to see you. Then he said he deserved to be part of the baby’s life. Harry has no right to see you or the baby. His job is done. Do you know why he’s come here, Y/n?”

The last thing the Queen wanted was to throw Harry under the bus, to make it seem that he was crazy and she was innocent in all this. She knew that Harry had severe ups and downs with his feelings when it came to her. He was sensitive. Perhaps he’d had a bad morning or night. The Queen turned her head to look at her cell phone that was plugged into the wall for charging overnight and wondered if the King had already looked at it. There were sure to have been texts from Harry if he had decided he was coming to the castle to make a ruckus.

Edgar got up in a hurry when he saw the Queen looking at her cell phone. He plucked it up and unplugged the cord then held the phone out to her, “Unlock it.”

She thought she could pass out. She didn’t know if Harry had contacted her or not. The secret name she kept his texts under would do no good if they were recent and unread and related to Harry coming to the castle. Everything else had been deleted. She swallowed the lump that was forming in her throat and took a breath as she grabbed the phone.

To her surprise, there didn’t appear to be any new texts from Harry on her notification screen. She typed in her password and closed her eyes as she handed the phone to Edgar.

She watched her husband open up the messages and phone app and scroll through, looking for evidence of her wrongdoing.

When he handed the phone back to her he rubbed his hands over his face and sat back down, “Sorry. I needed to check. You understand right? This is concerning that he’s here. He knows the rules.”

The Queen nodded, “Yes, I understand that. I think Harry is just very emotional and easy to rile up. Perhaps he might feel an attachment to his child,” she cringed when she said his child. Edgar wouldn’t like that, but it was said and she couldn’t take it back. And the truth was, the child Y/n was carrying was Harry’s and not Edgar's.

“I don’t see why he would. He has children with Gertrude…” the King stopped mid-sentence when there was clanging in the hallway and the sound of men shouting.

Edgar got up from his chair and opened the door to peer out. The very moment the door was opened Harry was pushing his way in. The Queen urged her pregnant body out of the bed as quickly as her heavy belly allowed her, putting her bare feet onto the cold stone floor. She hadn’t seen him in months. His hair was grown out, long curls swept over his ears, a bit of dark scruff on his face, and dark circles under his eyes.

“Get out of here! This is not your property and that baby will never meet you if you act this way!” Edgar shouted as he held onto Harry’s collar to keep him back. Harry kept his eyes on the Queen as she stood next to the bed in her nightgown.

A guard came into the doorway and the Queen put her hand up, “Leave us,” she spoke and the guard nodded, backing away. Edgar scoffed and before he could call the guard back, Harry closed the door behind him and despite Edgar’s own strength and size, Harry easily pushed the King off of him.

Harry turned to Edgar and pointed at him, “I will tell the kingdom of your secret, King,” Harry spoke the word King as if it were a nasty word, “and then the child will not be a legitimate heir due to your conniving. Unless you let me see her and the child when I’d like. The baby is mine after all!” Harry was furious and red in the face. He looked wild and angry.

Edgar looked quite wild and angry himself as he began to rush toward Harry.

“Wait! Edgar, we should think about this. If he tells then everything is ruined. Let’s take a breath and think,” The Queen put herself between Harry and Edgar. Both men halting.

Edgar kept his eyes on Harry who was behind the Queen, “This is unacceptable behavior, Harry. I will remember this from now on. Your character is tainted now. You’ve gone back on a promise and I can no longer trust you.”

Harry laughed incredulously, “And your character is tainted as well. You’ve lied and made a mockery of the kingdom by doing this. You’re a fraud. An infertile fraud.”

Edgar breathed out deeply and his eyes widen at the words Harry spoke. The Queen stepped forward and put her hand on Edgar’s shoulder, “Calm down. This isn’t a big deal. Let me have a moment with the Prince and you go take a walk. I’ll come to find you soon.”

Edgar turned his eyes to Y/n’s finally and shook his head, “Over my dead body will I let you alone with this traitor ever again.” The Queen shook her head, keeping her hands firmly on Edgar, “Please. Let’s calm down. None of this is doing anyone any good. Go take a walk, Edgar.”

It took a few more minutes before Edgar relented but when he left the room, Harry slammed the door closed behind him and locked the door. The Queen scolded Harry for his behavior, “Harry! What are you thinking? What’s going on?”

Harry frowned as he took large steps toward the Queen, pulling her into his arms. He kissed the top of her head and then brought his hands down to feel her belly, “This is mine. You are and the baby in here. I needed to see you. I know you’re doing well, but I am not. I couldn’t take it. I had a breakdown and found myself here this morning.”

Harry dropped his head to look down and the Queen brought her hands up to Harry face and pushed his head up so she could look at him, “But now what, Harry? Look what you’ve done. This scene is surely going to be questioned. What outcome are you looking for my Prince?” She smoothed her hands over his unshaved jawline and into his shaggy hair. She pushed the curls from his forehead as Harry kept his hands on her pregnant belly.

“I don’t know. I don’t even remember coming here. I had a spat with Gertrude and I left. We’ve been fighting a lot. But it’s my fault because I no longer am in love with her. Can barely stand her. I only compare her to you and there’s just no comparison. The children see it too. I hate myself right now. I just needed to see you and the baby so I could breathe and think. I can’t think when I can’t see you. Can’t breathe.”

Harry sniffled and Y/n leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his middle. Her poor, sweet Prince. He had been longing and sad all this time and she didn’t know it. She wanted to protect him and take care of him and his sweet heart but she didn’t know how that could ever happen.

The Queen tilted her head back to look up at Harry, “Harry?” He looked down at her, his hands gently rubbing up and down her spine and then smoothed over her hips toward the front over her belly. She smiled at his handsome face. Despite his dark circles, he was still handsome with his hair grown out like it was. She moved her hands up his chest and spoke, “What now my Prince?”

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[nickfowlerrr]

pretty when you cry - chapter three

series masterlist / chapter four

*originally posted to @bellareadsandrecs on 02/16/22*

pairing: dark!biker!bucky x curvy!reader (dark!soulmate au)

warnings: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. dubcon/noncon touching. mention of rape. bucky being kind of a dick - but what’s new. if i’m missing anything please let me know!! 18+ ONLY.

words: 2.4k

notes: this was going to be longer but i decided the next part would flow better into chapter four. hopefully this will hold you over until i post that this weekend lol. again, i always do my best to tag appropriately, but if you find i’m missing anything, please do not hesitate to let me know! as usual, feedback is always appreciated 💘

This is a DARK series!!! Please proceed with abundant caution.

You spent all of Monday in the same bed you fell asleep in; only getting up to use the restroom or to get water as you mindlessly watched your comfort show on repeat. Eva had called you earlier that morning but you didn’t trust yourself enough to answer without immediately crumbling to her. You opted to text her that you think you may have caught something and that you were really unwell. Which wasn’t all a total lie. You did feel extremely sick. You told her that you didn’t want to give her anything and that she shouldn’t come by - you knew she’d rush right over if you didn’t come up with some kind of excuse. Tuesday came quicker than you realized and you decided to call out of your shift at the diner. You didn’t want to be around anyone right now, especially at a place where you could run into Bucky again.

The real problem you were having was emotionally trying to process the events of Sunday evening.

You were hurt and had the bruises to prove it. You felt used because you were used. But you couldn’t wrap your head around the way he touched you and kissed you so gently. It was a stark contrast to the words he spoke to you. And the humiliating way he left you.

There was an underlying motive to his actions, you were sure of that. You just weren’t sure what it was. If you were being honest, you really didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to think about his soft caresses or the feeling of him on you. Or the paralyzing fear you felt as you let him do as he pleased. Even more, you desperately didn’t want to think about the feelings you felt alongside the fear.

So you decided not to. It was over now anyway, so why prolong the experience mentally?

You spent Tuesday much the same as the previous day and when Wednesday came you had decided to get back to normal - as if nothing had even happened.

If you didn’t pay attention to it, it would just go away. Or at least that’s what you told yourself.

Back to your normal work schedule- you thought you’d be able to avoid the men as you had done before. Turns out those men had other plans.

Every time you went into work at the diner, they were there. It wasn’t always all of them, but always enough to make you uncomfortable. Luckily you hadn’t seen Bucky at all.

Two weeks passed and the following Friday, your routine was yet again interrupted. As you were bussing a table, you felt the gaze of a young man, about your age, on your back. You turned to face him with a raised eyebrow and were slightly surprised to see him quickly look away embarrassed by being caught after locking eyes with you.

You didn’t think much of it. Aside from the fact that you hadn’t seen him around before and he was kinda cute - he was also joined at his booth by some of the guys you recognized from the bar.

You didn’t have the patience or care to keep pretending that you didn’t notice his eyes on you for the past twenty minutes, following you as you walked back and forth from the kitchen to the dining area serving your customers. The other guys he had been with had finished their food and left fifteen minutes ago but this guy, he just stayed.

With no regard for any unforeseen consequences and completely unphased by the fact that he was most likely another biker, you walked up to his booth and had to stifle a scoff as you watched him quickly divert his eyes and look around, pretending that he hadn’t been staring and that he didn’t see you stalking right up to him. You knew you looked pissed, it was clear as day on your face. You weren’t scared. In fact, you hadn’t truly felt scared since getting back to work. What was the worst thing that could happen to you, really? Death? You highly doubted it. If there was anything you could consider remotely “good” about that night with Bucky, it was the ridiculous way you now felt near fearless around these guys. The most intense emotion was annoyance and while you still avoided them like the plague, it wasn’t out of fear of being humiliated or harmed. The worst had already happened and you’d been embarrassed enough that now you really didn’t think anything anyone could say to you would phase you.

You stopped right in front of the guy and stared him down, willing him to look up at you and make eye contact.

He slowly and unsurely glanced up at you and you watched him as he gulped and his adams apple bobbed up and down. He stared for a second, slightly parting his mouth like he was going to say something, but didn’t.

“Do you have a problem, sir?” you asked matter of factly.

“Prob- no, uh, no problem,” he stuttered as he blinked at you. “I’m sorry.” You didn’t respond, only lifted an eyebrow as you returned his stare.

“I know I’m staring, it’s just- you’re just- I, I’m sorry,” he said again. “My name’s Peter,” he offered weakly before putting his hand out for you to shake. You looked at it perplexed, was he being serious right now?

“Y/N,” you said skeptically before slowly reaching out to shake his hand.

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” he smiled.

“Smooth,” you said before rolling your eyes and turning to walk back to your section.

“Wait, I’m sorry. That was really lame. I uh, I just moved here. Don’t really know many people yet. And you are, really pretty,” he said before standing up. He was taller than you, but most men around here were. It was like your town was attracting well built, handsome, ruthless, men. You weren’t sure this guy was ruthless, he certainly didn’t look it, but, “never judge a book by its cover’’ was a saying for a reason. And guilty until proven innocent was your new motto. So you weren’t going to give him the benefit of the doubt. You looked up to meet his eyes now that his eye level had changed from his seated position. You refused to let up on your harsh gaze. And to be honest, you loved the way it obviously made him a little squirrely.

“This is forward, but would you, would you maybe like to get dinner sometime? Or coffee or something else, casually, or not.” He asked trepidatiously. It was actually annoying you how adorable he was being. But you weren’t about to let your guard down completely.

“Dinner?” you asked.

“Yeah. Like a date. Or not, if you don’t want it to be. Like I said, just moved here, so a friend dinner would be nice, too, if you’d want,”

Damn. Those big brown puppy dog eyes were getting to you. Maybe he was a biker, or at the very least, affiliated with them, but maybe he wasn’t corrupted. Not yet at least, especially if he just moved here. You suddenly felt bad. Maybe he fell in with them recently, just trying to make friends. You could warn him, introduce him to your and Eva’s friends. Maybe keep him from going down that path. You felt your face soften and Peter took notice of it too as a small smile played on his lips.

“Okay. Okay, dinner,” you agreed, even surprising yourself. But feeling confident, more so than you’d ever felt before. His face lit up and he grinned even wider.

“Dinner,” he nodded. “Oh, can I get your number?” he asked.

You took out your pad of paper and wrote your number down for him. He took the small piece of paper and shoved it in his pocket. “Are you free on Saturday?”

“After 7, yeah.”

“Cool, well then, I’ll uh, I’ll text you and we’ll plan something for Saturday, then,” he said and you nodded in response. He opened his mouth to speak again, but the ringing of the bell on the entrance door stole both of your attention and when you turned to see who it was, assuming it to be just another random customer, your eyes went wide and your breathing quickened. You quickly turned back to face Peter and when you did, you saw his eyes wide as your own and he looked almost scared. You furrowed your brow in confusion but the sound of Bucky’s voice calling Peter’s name suddenly pulled it into perspective. He was obviously already in deep with these guys. Because of course he was.

“What the fuck are you still doing here? You have ten minutes to get to the clubhouse. And Steve isn’t a very patient man, especially not when it comes to prospects. Get your ass out of here, and hurry the fuck up,” he said gruffly as he approached the two of you.

The diner was nearly cleared out already, but the last two tables got up to leave right as Bucky walked in. As you felt him close behind you, you saw Peter’s mouth moving as he responded to Bucky, but you couldn’t hear anything over the pounding of your heart in your ears. You hated to admit it to yourself, but fear started coursing through your veins at the mere sight of him. You cursed yourself for it, but, realistically, you should have expected this response. The other bikers weren’t anything to you, they didn’t scare you anymore. But Bucky. Bucky was a different story. You started to try and calm yourself down, and that’s when you took account of what you truly were feeling at the moment. Fear, sure. But also, nervousness? Anticipation, but of what?

Something, something, “Saturday,” was all you heard before Peter was rushing out the doors. You suddenly felt hands on you and you immediately moved to walk to the back. There was only half an hour left in your shift, you were sure they’d be fine if you left early. You don’t know why you thought he’d just let you walk away, but you had to try. His hands held tighter on your waist as he pulled you back, further into him than you were before, his chest to your back. Your breath hitched and you stood still against him. “My shift is over, I’m leaving,” you said.

“Shift’s over? Great timing, then. You can have a seat with me,” he replied as he pushed you into the booth Peter had just occupied.

“What do you want,” you said harshly. You were terrified of the man, but you refused to show him that ever again. So you put on your bravado of toughness and irritation instead.

“Got a date with Peter, huh? You got fucked once and your confidence really shot up, didn’t it sweetheart,” he mocked.

“I wouldn’t exactly call it getting fucked, I’d call it getting raped,” you seethed with venom in as hushed a whisper as you could manage.

“You’re being dramatic, doll. We both know you enjoyed it,” he said with a smirk.

“You’re disgusting,” you spit.

“So I’ve been told.”

You sat there for a moment refusing to look at the man across from you until his hand gripped your chin and forced you to look at him.

“What. Do you. Want?” you slowly repeated yourself while maintaining eye contact with him.

“You remember that date I was telling you about? I was really looking forward to it, but god damn if you didn’t ruin it for me. She gave it up surprisingly easily, but while I was fucking her all I could think about was you,” he started but before he could continue, you scoffed, ripped away from his grip and got up out of your seat, moving as quickly as you could to the back. “Are you insane?” you said as you rushed away. Before you got to the door, Bucky grabbed your arm tightly and pulled you into the bathroom, not far from the back door you were trying to reach, locking the door behind him.

He shoved you against the wall harshly as he kept you there with his body pressed to yours, hands once again finding your chin and forcing you to look at him.

“Come on, sweetheart, stop pretending. You’re only gonna get yourself hurt,” he said before nuzzling into your neck. “You know.. I couldn’t stop thinking about how fucking soft you are,” he said as his hands made their way down your body, squeezing and feeling you up just like he had before.

“Stop,” you muttered as you tried futilely to stop his hands.

“Please, I just wanna go home, please,” you begged him as he started nipping softly at your neck. He pulled back and stood to his full height, towering over you while he held you against the wall. His hands returned to your face as he leaned down and surprised you with an intense kiss, that you didn’t mean to reciprocate, but definitely did. Your mouth responded before your mind could and you found yourself fully making out with Bucky against the wall of the bathroom. He only pulled away when you were both out of breath and he gripped your jaw meanly, forcing you to meet his powerful gaze as you struggled to regain your breathing. “You’re not going out with Peter,” he said harshly. “Do you understand me?” he asked.

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business or concern,” you responded in as even a tone as you could.

He laughed dryly while he continued to stare down at you.

“You’re not going out with Peter.” he repeated calmly before he leaned closer and softly kissed your forehead, causing you to shudder. “Go,” he said and nodded to the locked door, “I’ll see you around, sweetheart.”

And with that, you sidestepped and unlocked the bathroom door and walked quickly to the back, you couldn’t believe the one day Eva took off this would happen. You grabbed your things and then rushed to your car. You saw Bucky on his bike to the right of the diner front, watching you, but you rolled your eyes, ignored him and pulled out of your spot and headed home.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky x curvy!reader #dark!bucky x chubby!reader #dark!bucky x plus size reader #dark bucky #dark!biker bucky #dark!biker!bucky #tw noncon #tw dubcon #pwyc series