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absolutelyfizzing · 3 years

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angels and demons

warren worthington x reader fluff

@shuckfaced-fangirl Hi! can I request a warren worthington x female mutant reader where her powers are shadow summoning? So I guess everyone in the school kind of views her as some sort of demon? With a lot of fluff? Thank you!!

Description - Y/N is a shadow summoner and is isolated from her peers. Warren helps her see that not everyone fears her and that she is worthy of affection.

warnings - its so fluffy. fem pronouns. some angsty stuff (isolation, depression, sadness), one innuendo, devastating fluff, warren being an angel. i tried to make it POC inclusive, please let me know if it feels restricting or excluding and i will edit it.

word count - 3700, i got carried away

A/N - im so sorry this took so long, i took a break from writing while i am working on moving to college. i will still be spotty for the next few weeks but hopefully, i will post a few more things in that time and then get back on a normal schedule. also, thanks so much for this request, i had a lot of fun writing it and i hope it is something you enjoy reading!

MASTERLIST

You walked through the halls with a lowered head. You knew that you made others uncomfortable and so you chose to try to make yourself as small and unthreatening as possible. You had been 'gifted' powers with which you could manipulate and create darkness. You were a shadow summoner. That wasn't a name that many found reassuring or comforting.

There were a few who could see past it and who was close to being what you might call friends but those people were few and far between. There were overwhelmingly more people who believed that you must have been a scary and mean person, that you were some sort of demon. This couldn't have been further from the truth if one were to look past appearances. Your shadow was larger and darker than that of your peers and it trailed behind you with a mind of its own, moving and growing without you even meaning for it to happen. Your hands were constantly covered in something darker and dustier than the rest of your skin, a deep and pure black. It trailed from the tips of your fingers and faded on your forearm so it looked as though you had just dipped your arms into a chimney or that shadows were crawling up your arms.

When you first got them, you thought they were sort of cool. They made you look sort of goth and that was fun. That feeling quickly faded when you saw how others, even your family, reacted. They said it was a curse from hell. You were barely convinced otherwise.

You sat away from others at the school during free periods. During lunch you sat alone and in the sun when you could, you hoped it might make others be less scared of you as it might make you look brighter but your shadow, dark and ominous, maintained a spot near you. You wore clothes that made you look more approachable to try to maintain that you weren't scary. Your brightly colored outfit didn't ever seem to work though, no matter how hard you tried.

You looked down at the food in your hands, the sandwich only half-eaten, and you noted your hands. They were so normal looking, your nails were well kept and you thought they were a good size. That they might even be a good size for someone to hold. The only thing was the unnaturally colored dust that seemed to cover them. It was a cool black, it glistened and sparkled in the sun when your fingers moved. It never moved or transferred to anything else, always stuck securely to your skin. You were distracted by the way your fingers seemed to shine when a shadow came near yours, wings outlined in it. You looked up to see a tall blond boy above you with curly hair and bags under his eyes. He nodded to a spot on the grass near you.

"Do you mind if I sit here?"

You shook your head and even scooted away from the spot to give him more space despite the fact that you were in a large field.

"Do you want me to move?" You asked gently, wondering if maybe he wanted this particular spot and you took it from him unknowingly.

"I mean, I think that would sort of take away the whole point of me trying to sit with you." He smirked and you felt blood rush to your cheeks. "I like your hands" He hummed and you looked at him in shock. When his eyes met yours you tilted your head a bit.

"They don't bother you?" You tried to speak softly.

"No, I think they're awesome. They make you look punk." He smiled and you felt the corners of your mouth tug up a bit too.

"I like your wings." You almost mumbled as you allowed your gaze to move to the large feathery wings behind him. They moved in the wind and you found yourself wanting to run your fingers through them. "They make you look like an angel." You smiled and he groaned dramatically.

"I'm trying to look grunge." He pouted and you giggled a bit. At the sound, he looked up at you and blushed a bit. "Maybe we should trade."

"If I could trade you I would. Everyone is scared of how I look." You gazed back at the grass.

"I'm not." His simple statement made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you smiled a bit. You looked back at him and made eye contact for a moment.

"What's your name?" You asked and he maintained his gaze into your eyes. It was the most contact or conversation with someone else you'd had in a long time.

"I'm Warren." He smiled a bit and stuck a hand out to you to shake. You looked at his hand in shock. Nobody ever voluntarily touched your hands. Most of them worried that whatever was on them would spread. You hesitantly brought your hand to his, purposefully giving him plenty of time to remove his hand if he felt uncomfortable. But he didn't. Instead, your hand reached his and he shook it before letting go as if it was no big deal.

"I'm Y/N." You smiled a bit more and you felt a giggle come out of you from the joy of realizing this wasn't a dream, that someone was trying to talk to you and they weren't afraid.

"Is my name that funny?" He teased.

"No, I just-" you paused to think, "it's been so long since anyone has done this with me."

"Talked to you?" He questioned, obviously expecting you to say no and explain what you meant. Instead, you just nodded and his heart clenched for a moment. "Well, you can stick with me then."

"I don't know if you want your reputation to take a hit like that."

"My reputation is 'the angry and damaged kid', I'm sure it can handle the breaking news of me talking to a nice and pretty girl." He reassured before he even realized what he was saying. You could have cried at the feeling that rose up in your chest.

After that day, you stuck to his side like glue and he took no issue with it. The more you got to know him the more you appreciated the fact that he had taken you in. With his help, over the coming months, he helped you develop a stable friend group. That group included people like Ororo and Jane who had heard rumors about you and never bothered to check and see if they were real. They apologized profusely, especially Jean as she felt like she could have easily found out that you were kinder than she thought with her abilities but just had never done so, and you gladly accepted, just happy to be within a group.

You and Warren had developed a reputation. He was overly protective and gruff while you were overly nice and empathetic. You balanced each other well and if you were honest, you were in love with him. That always felt weird to say, you'd never been in love with anyone before but every second you spent with him made you more and more sure of your feelings.

When you and Warren were together, you would daydream about what it would be like to be in a relationship with him. Being held by him and wrapped in his wings. Getting to play with his unkempt hair. Holding his hand.

Sometimes he would try to encourage you to hold his hand. He would hold it out to you when he was helping you jump down from somewhere high. He would ask you to hand him things and then make decisive contact as he took it from you. He knew that it meant a lot to you, you practically gasped and blushed every time he did it. He had never met anyone so touch starved. He wanted to give you all the affection that you craved.

Unfortunately, Warren was rather oblivious, especially towards things like feelings and emotions. He had no clue that you had any interest in him, even though he hoped you did every day. If he wasn't so attached to your friendship, he might ask you out. Instead, he tried to maintain a friendly distance so he didn't cross any lines while also being as affectionate with you as he could be. You followed a similar path.

The person caught in the middle of this was poor Jean Gray. she had watched you pine over each other since you met and had heard every thought that went through both of your heads. She knew you would never complain or ask for help about anything so she liked to keep tabs on your thoughts every once in a while to make sure you were okay. Still, she tried her best to not listen very often or when you were thinking about anything very personal, she honestly did. But she was a romantic. All she wanted was for you two idiots to get together but you were both oblivious. She decided, probably 3 months into you becoming friends, that she had to do something about it.

She was sitting on your bed while you sat across your bedroom on your small couch. She fiddled with her thumbs while she tried to ignore your constant thoughts about Warren, his hands, his wings, his smile. She was exhausted. she took a small breath while she planned how she would try to say this to you.

"Do you want to know what I heard today?" She called and you looked up at her from the book you were pretending to read.

"Do you mean heard or 'heard'?" You laughed and she rolled her eyes.

"Either." Then she tilted her head. "Both."

"Yeah, I wanna know! What's it about?" You asked while leaning forward in your seat. Jean always had the best gossip to tell because she could literally hear it.

"Warren." She stated simply and watched your reaction. You flushed and stopped breathing for a moment.

"Wha-" you stuttered, "what about him?"

"That he has a thing for you." she winked and you flushed even more.

"You're lying." You assured, a questioning look on your face.

"I'm not and I'm tired of watching you two longing after one another while the rest of the school watches." She smiled and your heart picked up.

"I thought I told you not to look in my head!" You scolded but you weren't actually all that upset. You knew that it was very hard for her to control.

"I cant help it! Both of you think so loud. And I wouldn't have to anyway, Ororo mentioned it to me the other day and she definitely cants read minds." She giggled and you smiled a bit.

"Does he actually like me?" You almost whispered in disbelief.

"Yes! He's been obsessed with you since you started talking."

"But like he would want to actually go-"

"Y/N, I swear to god. If you don't go and talk to him right now I'm going to have a fit." She laughed and you glared at her.

"Okay okay fine, I'm going," you grumbled as you stood and walked toward your door. "If you are wrong I'm gonna be so upset with you."

She just laughed again and you started to walk down the hallway. You thought he might be in his room or outside. You decided to check his room first.

You knocked on his door but you were met with silence. You tried the handle and it moved.

"Warren?" you paused, "I'm coming in," you warned and pushed the door open. When you looked inside, he wasn't there. You took a moment to gaze around his room, it wasn't the first time you had been in there but every time was a bit exciting as you got to see all of the things he had that represented him. He had a boombox and a CD collection on his dresser. Some of his clothes were thrown around his room haphazardly and some of his drawers were open. You looked at the wall next to you where he kept photos that you took. You would carry around a camera or take pictures on your phone of everyone around campus. He always asked for them and then printed them out so he could hang them up. He had even managed to get a couple of you. You smiled a bit before heading back into the hallway, closing the door behind you.

You instead moved towards the door to get out onto the lawn where you thought he would probably be. He often sat under the big oak trees or on the roof if he wanted to get away from people. When you made it outside, you looked around for him.

"Y/N!" you heard him shout. You turned to look for him and saw his silhouette flying from the roof. You paused to admire him and his wings. He always looked so angelic to you. So powerful. You thought about how your power emanated darkness. That you would never appear angelic to someone and would more likely look like a demon. You looked down at your hands for a second, a habit you had when you were thinking about your powers. They sparkled a bit in the sun but it did little to quell the distaste in your mouth.

Suddenly there was a shadow in front of you that was not part of the darkness that surrounded you.

"Y/N?" he asked gently. "Are you okay?" he tried not to startle you. Being empathetic wasn't something that came naturally to him, but he tried extra hard around you. he noticed the way you were staring at your hands. The growth of your shadow as you thought about your powers more. He moved to touch one of your hands but you flinched back a bit. He brought his hand back and looked at you with concern. "Whats wrong, angel?" He asked lightly and you looked up at the pet name. He had started calling you that soon after you became friends. You thought it was out of irony but he really was convinced that you were some sort of angel. He also loved the way that your eyes would light up when he said it. You stared at him for a moment in silence.

"Do I scare you?" You asked quietly and your voice shook. He looked surprised by your question and you were surprised too. You didn't know why you were suddenly getting emotional. Why this was now all you could think about. Why it had to come up now when you were trying to express your feelings for him. Instead of responding he reached out to your hand, holding onto it when you let him, despite flinching away slightly. He started to walk, leading you toward the same tree you had met under. Once you both reached it he sat down and looked up at you, waiting for you to sit down too. You did, maybe a bit farther away from him than you needed to be.

"Do you think you scare me?" he asked genuinely and you took a second to think, looking back down at your hands which were now pulled back into your lap.

"I scare me," you stated simply and paused.

"That's not what I asked."

"I don't know." You mumbled. "I think I freak everyone out. Including you I guess." Your voice was quieter than you meant it to be. you really hadn't thought about it in a little while. It had been on your mind plenty when you first started talking to him. You were extra conscious of not pushing him to be around you or near your shadow. You knew that he would move away if he needed to but you also had so many memories of everyone around you fearing you, running from you, telling you that you were a curse. Instead of responding he held his hand out in between the two of you, palm up. You knew that he was inviting you to take it but that he wouldn't push you to. Instead of taking it, you placed your hand near his on the ground and he left his next to yours, not trying to take it if you didn't want him to.

"You don't." He let out, sounding sure of himself and slightly pained. "You don't scare me." You looked at each other. He had tears in his eyes. He was never one to get emotional so you were surprised. "Do I scare you?" he questioned, already knowing your answer but trying to prove a point.

"Of course not." You sighed.

"You have a lot more reason to be afraid of me than I have to be afraid of you." he looked at your hand again. "I'm the one who has a rough history, I'm the one who is angry and has a reputation of being aggressive."

"But, Warren, your mutation is-"

"Mutation has nothing to do with it, Y/N." he sighed. "You have control over your abilities, I have control over mine. The only difference between us is our personalities and I have never had any reason to fear you or dislike you. You're the kindest person I know and everyone in your life who has let you think that there was something wrong with you was terrible. And that was on them."

Your hand reached for his and you laced your fingers together. He squeezed your hand and ran his thumb over the back of it.

"I love you." The words came out of your mouth faster than you could think and you sucked in a breath, almost hoping he didn't hear you. When you glanced up at him he had a gentle smile on his face. He brought the back of your hand up to his face and kissed it before placing it against his cheek.

"I love you too, Y/N" He reached out for your waist and pulled you toward his lap, giving you plenty of time to give him a sign that you were uncomfortable. Instead, you put your leg over his waist so you were straddling his thighs. You held one of his hands in between you and fiddled with his fingers, admiring how your hands contrasted with his. Somehow, him holding your hand made it seem less out of place. You almost felt pride.

You were suddenly surrounded by warmth and shadow, the sounds of the quad around you becoming muted. You looked up around you and his wings were wrapped around the two of you, closing you off into your own little world. You felt the urge to reach out to them but you had never asked. You had never seen him let anyone touch them and you didn't want to make him uncomfortable.

"Go ahead." your eyes snapped to his in shock.

"Warren, you never let any-"

"I want you to," he admitted and it was true. He had thought many times about asking you to run your fingers through his wings. He would never complain about it but they were a little high maintenance and also sensitive. He never let anyone touch them because most people weren't gentle or he didn't trust them. He knew though that you were the gentlest person on Earth and that he could count on you to be careful.

At his reassurance, you smiled a bit. You reached a hand out to the part of his wing next to his shoulder. You both gasped a bit when your fingers made contact. Warren was a bit surprised at how sensitive they were to your touch and it had been a long time since anyone but himself had touched them. You were entranced by how soft they were. The feathers were delicate and there were so many. You were very careful in how you moved your hand along his wing, looking at him often to see if he was uncomfortable. As you were carding your fingers through his feathers, one came out. You gasped slightly horrified that you had hurt him.

"Hey, it's okay!" he rushed out as he saw your panic. "They just sort of... shed sometimes." He almost seemed embarrassed. Feathers would come off occasionally and he would often have to brush through them himself to release all of the loose feathers, sort of like brushing your hair. He reached to pick up the feather and held it in front of you for you to take. You gladly did and you twirled it in your fingers. "Maybe sometime, if you wouldn't mind, of course, you could help me brush through them?" he asked quietly and you smiled.

"Yeah of course. They seem like they might be a lot of work." you were touched that he trusted you to do that and you thought about how hard it must be to take care of them by himself when they were so big and most of his wings were behind him.

"You should see what it's like to shower with them," he grumbled and then his eyes widened at what he had said. He hadn't meant it to be an innuendo but now he was worried he offended you. Instead, he looked into your eyes and you fell into a fit of giggles.

"I might have to take you up on that offer." Your gentle gaze made him blush. He had never felt this comfortable with anyone. This safe. He decided right then that he would do anything you ever asked of him.

After that day, you and Warren became the cutest couple at the school. You were opposites in multiple ways and your relationship was more wholesome than any of your friends could handle. You got more confident in yourself and your abilities and he allowed himself to be more vulnerable. everyone agreed that you were a match made in heaven.

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

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subtle | shouto todoroki/reader

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 2,171 words

summary: Someone leaves chocolates on your desk. You're determined to track down the sender, certain it's a mistake, and Shouto Todoroki makes himself as unhelpful as possible.

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, valentine’s day

warnings: aged up characters (no smut though!!)

There was a box on your desk.

There was a box on your desk, and the sight of it was enough to instantly set you on edge.

The box looked normal enough, if a little fancy, maybe. Its lacquered top glinted brightly under the fluorescent office lighting, its smooth, polished sides waterfalling into the soft matte of your desktop underneath. You weren’t close enough to read the inscription, but you could just make out some elegant, curling script inlaid into the top of the box, possibly the name of whichever company had produced it.

The box looked very normal, in fact. Only, you knew it wasn’t. Boxes didn’t just show up in the middle of the Todoroki Hero Agency, a campus swimming with pros and armed with layers of security so deep it took even you--Shouto Todoroki’s manager--fifteen full minutes to get through screening every morning. It was something very much like being a prison guard at Tartarus.

So either this box meant the agency was dealing with a security breach the likes of which had scarcely been seen before, or someone had mistaken your desk for somebody else’s.

Which, considering it was Valentine’s Day, made a lot more sense.

Buoyed by the realization it wasn't a security risk, you crept closer, peering at the box, and the script resolved itself into the name of the extremely fancy chocolatier in Hiroo district that you made a point of drooling over every time you had to make a house call on Shouto. Their prices were literally insane, so you had never let yourself wander inside, unwilling to shell out an entire week’s pay for a tiny set of chocolates. Even if they did look absolutely fucking unbelievable from the window.

Your mouth watered.

That confirmed it--this was a Valentine's gift, and it was definitely a mistake. For the briefest of seconds, you’d wondered if maybe you had gotten obligatory office friendship chocolates, but this was too much. Some poor, love-sodden flop had gone out, spent their week’s pay on someone they were clearly very serious about, and then proceeded to fuck the entire thing up by plonking their gift straight onto your desk instead of their intended’s.

You frowned, quickly checking the box over for some kind of clue as to who had left it. There was no note included, nothing even mildly helpful that would give you the slightest hint of the person who'd left it here. Which left you with the question of how to return the box to the sender without knowing who they were, or how to pass it on to whoever they’d really meant it for.

You drew your bottom lip between your teeth, staring hard at the surface of the box like you could crack its code if only you glared hard enough. The box stared back at you, unhelpfully silent.

You were still skewering the box with your gaze some minutes later, determined to unravel its secrets, when a deep voice murmured from your doorway.

“You look puzzled."

You startled, whipping around to find Shouto propping up the wall, looking as unfairly handsome as usual. He was watching you intently, those heterochromatic eyes fastened to your face in that careful way he had, the one that always made you feel too warm and slightly unfocused. As usual, it was all you could do to remind yourself that you were a professional and he was something solidly between a friend and a coworker, and no matter how cute and attentive he was, you shouldn't get any ideas.

This morning, he was dressed in his hero uniform, tall and broad-shouldered, his distinctive hair only a little ruffled from his early patrol. It wasn’t often someone tried something in the districts he watched over anymore, probably too nervous to find themselves on the wrong end of the number four hero’s temper. You knew from the reports you received to your phone that the only trouble he’d encountered this morning was a pack of amorous school girls purposely misusing their quirks to draw his attention.

Thirty minutes ago, in fact, you’d almost spit out your coffee laughing at a photo of him looking wildly uncomfortable as he attempted to ice down some girl’s lava quirk with his right hand while fighting off her unfathomably enormous bouquet with his left. It was only right that he should suffer once a year, when every other day he got to stalk about as handsome as you please, oblivious to the effects his appearance had on every breathing person within a five mile radius.

You gave him an absent nod, gaze drawn back to the box on your desk.

“Somebody accidentally left something in here,” you told him, gesturing to it. “I’m trying to figure out how to track down who it was, or who it was meant for.”

Shouto made a small noise in the back of his throat, almost like a cough, and it was enough to startle you into looking up at him again.

“What?” you asked, peering at him. Was he coming down with something? It wasn't often he got sick, but when he did, he usually attempted to hide it and needed to be steamrolled into taking time off. You looked him over, trying to assess whether or not you needed to start badgering him now.

Shouto gazed back at you evenly, his expression deceptively bland. “...You think it’s not for you.”

You felt yourself blink at him, surprised by the comment and struggling to discern his meaning. What did he mean, you think it’s not for you? “Of course it’s not for me, Shouto, it’s from Grégoire Chardin.”

You knew he’d know the place, considering he lived in the same fancy rich people neighborhood as the chocolatier, but Shouto looked unimpressed.

“Why should that mean it’s not for you?” he asked, his tone dry.

The remark caught you off guard, as his comments sometimes did, and you bit down something like a smile. Bless his sweet, oblivious, rich boy heart. Either he overestimated your appeal to his agency staff, or he really did not understand the concepts of cost and return on investment.

“It’s expensive, it’s not something you would give someone as obligatory chocolates,” you explained, watching as a white eyebrow went up. His expression sharpened into something you couldn’t read well.

“It could be a secret admirer,” he said.

You stared blankly back at him, absolutely floored by the idea.

He thought you had a secret admirer? The idea sent an excited thrill all the way down to your toes, but you quickly squashed the feeling. So far, you'd never been on the receiving end of any furtive but romantic gestures, and you really didn't get any interested vibes from anyone in the office, no lingering glances or excuses to spend more time with you. The person who paid you the most amount of attention was Shouto, which was to be expected, considering how closely you worked together. And obviously he wasn't interested, he was just happy to stand in your doorway spouting wild conspiracies about his agency staffers like they were completely reasonable things to say.

“I don’t have a secret admirer,” you told him.

Shouto’s mouth pressed into a thin line and he took an intent step forward into your office. “Is the point of a secret admirer not to be exactly that--secret? How can you be sure?”

You couldn’t help it--you gaped at him, your face going weirdly warm. Okay, was he--was he serious? You obviously weren’t the most unfortunate creature on earth, and you even had your good days, but nobody in their right mind was going to attempt anything with you when there were girls like Nejire Hado and Ibara Shiozaki roaming the hallways of his agency. Even several of the analysts and most of the support crew had you beat out in terms of appeal--literally bless this man for his obvious indifference to your appearance.

“I, uh--thanks for your confidence in me,” you said, fighting down a laugh. “But I assure you, it definitely wasn’t meant for me. I just have to figure out who left it and who they meant it for.”

Shouto shifted impatiently, like he was waiting for something.

“You’re so certain,” he said, sounding frustrated.

“Of course I am,” you waved at him vaguely. It was actually super cute that he thought you could net yourself a dude who was willing to shell out Grégoire Chardin dollars, but you were just wasting time now, lingering over the least important part of this entire affair. “Listen, Shouto. I know sometimes men talk in the locker rooms. If you--if you hear anything, will you let me know? I just want to return it, it looks way too good sitting here.”

It was actually taking all your willpower not to open it and avail yourself of Japan’s finest chocolate, considering you would never have another opportunity like this again. Maybe you should just pretend it was for you....Really, no one could fault you for opening something left in your own office. But...no. No, you knew better.

Shouto appeared indifferent to your internal struggle. He watched you for a long moment, his features impassive. “Under one condition,” he finally allowed.

You cocked an ear to show you were listening, rifling around with the paperwork on your desk to distract yourself from the chocolate. You were strong, a good person. You had willpower like steel. You did not need to eat it, no no no.

“If no one comes looking for it by the end of the day, you will open it,” he said, moving closer.

You glanced up at him, shocked. “Shouto, this is someone else’s gift,” you hissed. “I can’t just open it.”

He placed a large palm down on your desk, leaning over you slightly. “That is my bargain.”

“You want me to steal somebody’s shit in your own agency,” you accused him. You tried not to pay attention to how close he had gotten, how straight his nose was up close, the way his eyes seemed brighter and his mouth pulled into a pout almost too pretty for a man.

The rest of his expression slipped into something like annoyance, matching his pout. “If no one comes for it, then it must be evident that it was meant for you.”

You suppressed a derisive laugh. Now was not the time to get shirty with your own boss, especially when his delusions were kind of sweet. It was honestly just short of a miracle that a man who looked like Shouto did could possibly think anyone on earth would have a thing for you, regardless of his own tastes.

“What if they’re just too shy to ask for it back?” you asked, watching those heterochromatic eyes flick over you curiously.

“If it’s as expensive as you say, someone will come looking,” he said. Which was actually kind of annoyingly reasonable.

A smirk flitted across his maddeningly perfect face when you failed to come up with another argument. He had a point, and he knew it.

You let out a gusty sigh. “Fine, but only because I’m certain someone will come looking for it. Please be subtle when you’re gathering info, okay? I'm sure this is embarrassing for whoever made this mistake.”

Shouto looked almost offended. “I am perfectly capable of being subtle,” he intoned in his deep voice.

This time, you did laugh. He was quiet, maybe, very perceptive, and unobtrusive when he wanted to be, but no one had ever accused the man of possessing tact. “Yeah, okay. Just, try to channel more subtlety than you think you need, okay? No one else but the sender needs to know about the mix up.”

There was a moment of silence, and then Shouto was leaning over you more fully, eyes glittering strangely as his clean, fresh scent met your nose. You froze in your chair, brain going horrifyingly vacant as he leaned impossibly nearer. What the fuck was he doing?

“It will be like I’m not even asking,” Shouto promised, his voice light. “Not asking anyone at all.”

You tried to scrape your thoughts back into something resembling order, but the effort was all but futile. You needed to get him out of your space stat before you embarrassed yourself.

”Okay, then it’s a deal,” you said quickly. “Now go...flambé a villain or something.”

Shouto lingered for a long moment, his mouth curling a little at the corner, like he was being let in on a secret you couldn’t hear. His eyes brushed over you, almost like a physical touch. And then he was gone, pulling open the door to your office, looking annoyingly pleased with himself.

“You will see,” he said by way of farewell. “You will find out how subtle I can be.”

You stared at him in confusion, but he didn’t explain himself. He just smirked, and closed the door behind himself.

#todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto #bnha #bnha fanfic #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #shouto todoroki x reader

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songmingisthighs · 3 years

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[21.57] mafia!wooyoung × reader

⇀ nothing's as concerning as wooyoung's 180° change, it's all or nothing for him. And you ? You just became his everything.

⇁ tw : violence, mafia life

⇁ part. 1 / 2 / 3

⇁ disclaimer : the author does not support any and all criminal/illegal acts. the narrative written in this story is purely fiction out of the author's imagination. the things written here does not portray real mafia life nor is the author aware of how the mafia life is like. the author is a hermit loser.

Five days went by and you still haven't regained consciousness and Wooyoung had not left your side for even one second.

Neglecting not only his duties but also his own well-being. He wouldn't leave you for a single second, afraid that if he does, someone might come in and finished you off. So he had San be on standby in the guest room, taking his place for when he needs to shower or go for a bathroom break. Said man even attempted to spoon-feed Wooyoung when he found out that his friend had denied the food his house staff brought to him, to which Wooyoung finally gave in and feed himself after San tied him up in his chair and threaten to feed him mother bird style.

When Yeosang came back in the day after you were first found, Wooyoung almost stab one of the nurses when he tried to take you to get checked.

"Seriously? I brought my machines and staff here and literally, within the first 2 minutes here, there are no signs of gratitude and you almost injured one of my staffs? Are you freaking high again?" Yeosang nagged after pulling the petrified nurse to the side.

Honestly, Wooyoung felt bad for scaring the man, but he had to hold onto you no matter what. You have to be within his peripheral vision because the last time he (stupidly) let (drove; shove) you out of his sight (turned all cctvs off which then directly caused you to get kidnapped), he almost didn't get the chance to regret what he did (and said) to you.

But Wooyoung wasn't gonna let other people know that he has remorse. Heck no.

He's the Jung family head mafia and there isn't anyone allowed to know how he's actually like.

Except you.

Right after you wake up.

So instead of letting Yeosang's staffs take you away, Wooyoung swooped you in his deceptively strong arms and put you on the gurney.

Once he's sure that you're secured, he looked at Yeosang and his staffs with narrowed eyes, "no offense, man, but I don't trust any of them," Wooyoung then look to his men who's stationed by his door, "get their details and do thorough background checks on them," he said before pushing the gurney down, forcing Yeosang to personally help him.

He made sure that his men were stationed at every entrance, ran background checks on every staff that entered his place, heck even put out a curfew for everyone including his visiting friends.

"Dude, you gotta get out of here, you look like a zombie," San said as he entered the room, walking towards Wooyoung who had moved his desk closer to the bed where you lied motionless. He slightly cringed when he saw the needles that poked through the skin of your hand.

Without looking up from his work, Wooyoung sighed and shook his head, "she could wake up any second, I wanna be here when she does" he muttered, eyes flitting to your form on the bed for a second.

San approached his friend, leaning both hands on the table, "Wooyoung, you missed 3 important meetings, 2 briefings, and you haven't delegated workloads other than security details for your own place, the organization will be in shambles soon," he said sternly.

Hearing facts behind his words irked Wooyoung, he knew about the current vulnerability in his organization because he's only been taking care of you since you came back to him. He didn't want to be reminded of his previous neglect.

He was about to tell San off when suddenly a voice chimed in.

"You should go do your job, Wooyoung," you called, coughing a little from scratchy throat.

It took him some time to fully realize that you had woken up after five days. He immediately run to your side and help you sit up, ordering San to get you a glass of water.

Once your throat had been soothed by the water, Wooyoung held your hand in his, kissing the back side of it multiple times to express how glad he is, "thank God you woke up, I-I don't know what I'd do if you don't," he choked, feeling tears start to brim on his eyes.

You initially didn't pull away from his touch nor his affection, maybe it's the fact that you had just woken up, maybe you think you're hallucinating, because the Jung Wooyoung you knew would never talk to you or treat you like this.

Though it hurts, you pulled your hand away from his grip, cringing a bit, "F-funny you say that, last time we spoke you said you wanted me dead," you muttered bitterly at him.

Sensing that this is a personal conversation, San slipped away before hearing anything else.

Wooyoung stared at you with sad eyes, "No, baby, I would never," he reached forward, trying to take your hand in his once again. But you scooted further into the bed, your eyes started watering, "liar," you choked out, "you said you've been planning my assassination since the beginning and you wanted to go through with it,"

"I-I did, didn't I? I can't deny I've said that to you, but please, losing you was the hardest thing that ever happened to me-"

"Well what about me!?" You exclaimed, cutting him off, surprising him at the tone you used.

By now tears had streamed down your face, your hands were clutching the blanket on your lap tightly as you began sobbing, "f-for a year, I've been nothing but understanding to you and your actions, I've done nothing but try to stay out of your way, all I asked in return was to be treated like a human being, but you couldn't even do that now, could you ? I even had to get kidnapped by whoever's after you for you to finally give half a fuck about me," you were choking the words out, your raw emotion evident with the way you speak.

Wooyoung never once seen this side of you, the side that is so raw and vulnerable. Sure, he'd occassionally hear your soft sobs through the en suite bathroom or came across your quivering figure in the gardens. But never once did you bore yourself to him like this.

Despite knowing that you might push him away, Wooyoung climbed into bed as quick as he can and enveloped you tightly in his arms.

At first you tried pushing him off with all your strength, not wanting to be comforted by him. But he held on, he knew his way around people's movement so using his knowledge against you was an easy feat.

It took you a while, you still struggled for a bit but you eventually gave in, letting his arms wrap around you and tucking your head under his chin. By now you had somehow situated between his legs, him carefully minding the IV on your right hand as he pulled you in deeper (as if it's possible).

"I know that I don't deserve it, heck, I deserve nothing from you after putting you in hell like that, but I sincerely apopogize and I will do anything and everything I can in order to gain your trust and maybe..." he pulled back slightly and tilt your chin up so he can meet your gaze, "...we can go forth and build a relationship?"

Stranger things had happened in your life but this, by far, is the strangest. Never in a million years would you ever thought that you'd be able to see the great Jung Wooyoung blush like a high school girl. It's honestly cute.

But not as cute as when he bit his lips to prevent his mouth from tearing due to the large grin that bloomed on his face once you gave him a nod, agreeing to him after leaving him nervous for a solid 5 minutes.

#ateez #wooyoung #ateez au #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez imagine #ateez scenario #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #timestamp #ateez timestamp #kpop imagine #kpop scenario #kpop timestamp #au #kpop au #smt timestamp

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getlostsquidward · 3 years

Text

The gaps in your hearts (Part 2)

Lou Miller x fem!reader

A/N: You asked for part 2, and I shall deliver. I hope it's worth your wait!!

Summary: After your departure, an unexpected circumstance had you arriving back at the loft, back at Lou. Will the gaps in your hearts only become wider or will they be finally filled?

Part one

“Oh, bugger. Baby? I’m home.”

“Nice place.”

“Try heating it.”

“There’s a room for you upstairs. Your stuff’s upstairs too.”

Lou called your name a couple of times but she got no answer. Maybe you went out and got something from the store. She furrowed her eyebrows at the notion that you didn’t let her know you’ll go out like you usually does.

She can’t wait for you to meet Debbie.

The sun has set down and you weren’t at home yet. Lou was growing worried each minute that passes. She’d left you text messages, she tried to call you several times, but all of it went to voicemail. Where did you go?

Debbie had returned from her closure meeting with Claude. She had bought takeout for dinner but Lou wasn’t in any mood to eat. She was antsy but keeping it down so her friend won’t notice. Maybe you were called in at work? Maybe you went out with a friend and forgot to send her a text. The blonde knows you can perfectly take care of yourself but she can’t help but be worried.

“Where’s your girl?” Debbie asked, reminded of Lou calling someone ‘baby’ when they arrived earlier.

Lou just shrugged her shoulders, not really knowing what to answer.

“Maybe she hit her head and woke up from the truth,” the brunette joked.

Lou glared at her friend. “Not funny.”

“Tell me about her.”

The blonde started to tell her friend everything. From how you met, the ups and downs of your relationship, and how loving and wonderful you are. You were patient and understanding; you were perfect in every way and she hated how she’d managed to hurt the one person that did nothing but love her.

The day you moved out of the loft was the most devastating day of her life. It was way much worse than when Debbie left before.

She knew that you were checking in on her through Matt, and she was wracked with guilt. Even after what she’d done, you still care for her. Lou unconsciously checks her phone to see if you left a message but to no avail. You really honoured your word that you’d give her time, and she was thankful for that.

In your two-month break, she really had thought about it all. She used the time to sort out her feelings. Hell, she even opened up to some of her other friends for help, something she rarely does even with those who know her. Unearthing her feelings.

Lou had feelings for Debbie. She didn’t know if it was romantic or if it was just a deep affection. She didn’t really think much of it. Debbie was one of the few of the persons she knows she could trust with her life and in the conworld, such a person was like a rare gem. It was hard to find, and if you do, you’ve got to treasure it. And so she did.

“Maybe you’d mistaken the concept of love and affection. You told me you really didn’t think anything about it and that explains it. The moment you felt that that person was dear to you, you immediately equated it to romantic love.”

The words mentioned had hit Lou, hard. Once she realized that, she promptly had to find you. She called you, but you didn’t answer. She didn’t know where you were staying so she asked your friends, and that’s how Lou found you drowning in liquor in some alley.

“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Debbie berated, feeling rather guilty about how she was probably the reason you left for the second time around.

“I do. No need to remind me.”

“I’m gonna tell you to go find her, but I also need you to focus on the job. Can you do both?”

“Of course,” Lou sighed. She won’t know what she would do if she were to lose you for real this time.

You were feeling rueful for leaving Lou without a word. You knew she’d be worried sick, but it was the best for the two of you. Once again, you fell into your routine. It was incredibly helpful that an event was coming and you can spend all of your time at work. Though this time, the constant drinking was out of your to-do list.

Your mind often wandered to Lou. She said something about a job, maybe that’s what they’re doing right now. Has she been thinking of you too?

The messages and missed calls Lou had sent you were not in your knowledge as you’d let your best friend hide your phone, and bought a new one for you. At first, you thought that it would be ridiculous and childlike of you but maybe she had a point. The worst-case scenario would be Lou filing for a missing person’s case, but you knew she wouldn’t dare cross paths with the police.

“Oh my god, you guys. This party is nuts. I’m not kidding! If your dress is ugly, you can’t wear it, no shit! They will bower your wardrobe!” Tammy rambled and rushed to get into the loft where she got everyone’s attention.

“I love that!” Lou quipped.

“Oh I gotta pee,” Tammy continued to ramble. “Every table cost a quarter-million dollars that if they allow you to buy one! I mean not just any $250,000 check will be approved, I mean they literally have to tell you whether or not they’ll take your money, it’s crazy!”

Everyone was standing outside the bathroom, still listening to Tammy rant about the Met.

“And then you can’t bring anyone, that you clearly go by yourself. They spend a hundred grand on food and apparently no one eats, it’s really crazy,” the blonde finished as she went out, kind of out of breath from the continuous rambling.

“Did you get the seating chart?” asked Debbie.

“The what?”

“The seating chart.” Tammy handed the special glasses she was wearing to Debbie.

“If I haven’t said it, it’s really crazy. This one person that I’m working with maybe is the only saving grace of that place. Thank goodness for Y/N,” the blonde sighed, capturing the attention of Lou.

She shared looks with Debbie, hoping that it was you their friend was talking about.

After discussing the seating chart, they approached Tammy and straightforwardly asked about you, if you were the same person she’d mentioned. Apparently, you quit your last job and had started few weeks prior to Tammy. Lou asked if you’re doing well, and almost cried when she nodded. When Tammy asked why they are curious, Debbie answered. “Lou’s girl. Left because of this dumbass right here.”

The blonde had a surprised expression on her face, a bit amazed at how small the world is. The person they’ve been looking for was only at their reach this whole time.

“She’s sweet. If you’re planning to get her back, which I know you would, you better not mess up.”

Since that day, Lou was itching to contact you but inhibited herself. She’d finish the job first, then she would have you back. If she was lucky enough to be given a second chance, which she wouldn’t fucking waste, she can finally go to California riding with you on her new bike like you always wanted to do.

Finally, it was the first Monday in May. Lou was still in the van with Nineball, preparing food for her. She remembered you telling her she would look good in a chef’s uniform. She wasn’t actually a chef right now, but she still owes you a hundred bucks.

What if you weren’t gone? Maybe you would be in on the heist too, and you would be the most beautiful woman in her eyes, everyone else in the Met is damned. She knew you would have loved and drooled over the green jumpsuit she was wearing.

The heist was successful, and the ladies were lounging at the loft. Their dillydally was halted when an unexpected guest has stormed the loft. Daphne Kluger.

“You guys are fucked,” the actress huffed. “Wow, nice place.”

“Excuse me, you are trespassing-”

“No, we asked her to come,” Lou cut Tammy’s accusation.

Debbie started to explain how Daphne might have gotten a sense of what they were doing, so they roped the brunette in. Daphne then asserted how she was the one who was saving everyone from insurance fraud. Another revelation had caused panic to those who didn’t know, scared that they might be busted and imprisoned.

“We will not be the prime suspect.”

“Then who will be the prime suspect?”

Lou listed several people like the security guys and the busboy. Their attention was focused on Daphne that they didn’t notice another person coming in. You quietly opened the door in purpose, glancing at each of the women inside. You’d heard the last bit of their conversation and captured their attention by announcing your presence.

“The shady guy who put Debbie away,” you casually commented, walking towards everyone.

“Wow,” Daphne chuckled. “The boyfriend.”

Everyone but Debbie and Daphne was shocked, for the third time around. They didn’t really expect guests today. Lou looked like she had seen a ghost but didn’t take her eyes off you.

“Yup. If they were gonna be looking for somebody, just had to make sure it wasn’t one of us.”

You whispered a “Hi, Tam” to your coworker, and took a sit in the middle of her and Daphne. “The precision, right?” the actress turned to you. “The attention to detail, a little grace note that really makes something sing.”

While she was blubbering about how well-thought the job was, she scooted closer to you and put a hand on your thigh. Lou raised an eyebrow at the action, jealousy bubbling in her chest.

“Why are you doing this?” Tammy asked, referring to Daphne. “And Y/N? You were in too? How?”

You let the brunette answer first and when she finished, Debbie had answered for you.

“She was our other mole in the Met, aside from you and Nine.”

“Oh, you were an angel, Y/N. She made sure I was okay after hurling my guts out. Much much better company than my date,” Daphne preached, leaning her head on your shoulder. You rest your head on hers in return.

Lou’s jaw was gritted, it was too much for her and she couldn’t look any longer. She looked at Debbie and gave her a perplexed look, asking for further explanation.

The brunette just shrugged her shoulder, knowing it was up to you to talk to Lou. After all, it was the reason she approached you. At first, she had only talked to you about Lou, but later called to ask if you were willing to join in the job. You’d said yes right away.

That night, you saw Lou sitting near the shore. She was staring straight ahead as you sat next to her.

“Lou?”

“You know, I planned to talk to you after we got the money. But you got to me first,” she whispered.

“You have to thank Debs for that.”

Lou chuckled, “Debs? What, you’re on a nickname basis now? She doesn’t even let me call her that.”

“She told me everything. And, I- I’m sorry, Lou. I shouldn’t have left like that, left you worried though you had a job to focus on-”

Lou cut you off as she pulled you in for a hug. “No, Y/N. I should be the one apologizing.”

Her hand was running up and down your back, the touch soothing all of your troubles. You can finally feel at peace. There was no snarling voice at the back of your head, no heavy feeling. You feel like a sailor in the middle of a calm sea.

“I’ll make it up to you, for real, this time,” Lou pulled back, giving you a smile. You nodded in return.

“Although you may have to explain first what was that earlier,” her smile faded, and glared at you playfully.

You were about to ask what she was referring to when you suddenly remembered. You told her how you may or may not have told Daphne that you were on a rough patch and she volunteered to help make Lou jealous. Both of you shared a laugh as she commented on how effective it was that she had to restrain herself from tearing you apart from the actress.

There was no time to waste, you thought as you pressed your lips against Lou’s. The kiss was slow and passionate, the both of you pouring all your feelings out. Her hand entangled itself on the base of your skull as she deepened the kiss, tongue swiping on your bottom lip asking for entrance. You let her dominate you, a soft moan coaxed out of your mouth.

The only thing you could focus on was the feeling of Lou’s lips; your hammering heart and the waves lapping gently at the shore.

“I love you, baby,” Lou murmured, both of you breathless.

“I know, Lou. I love you too.”

#cate blanchett #cate blanchett x reader #lou miller x reader #lou miller #ocean's 8 #ocean's 8 fanfiction #debbie ocean #tammy #daphne kluger

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nightowlfandom · 3 years

Text

Rich! Bad Boy!Min Yoongi- Try Me

Just wanna say if you see your name used here, I don’t have beef with you okay? I had a random name generator in another tab and just used the first name I saw.

Once again someone doesn’t want me to be great so....this might be the only post today because I....dunno I can’t post when I’m not in a good mood and its been real shitty.

CHECK OUT MY MASTERLIST HERE!!

X RATED PROMPT LIST| NON X RATED PROMPT LIST

RUN IN HERE AND COME GET Y’ALL JUICE

Leggo!

...

You were practically glued to his side. His arm was tightly wrapped around your waist as he led you across the room. You had perched your designer sunglasses on top of your head to get a clearer look at your surroundings. Why were you wearing sunglasses at night? Because you could, of course.

Your wore a backless floor length gown in one of his favorite colors. He had insisted you wear your fur coat, but you convinced him to let you leave it in the car. You were on full display, not only for him but for anyone else who thought that they had bought the most gorgeous date for the night. That title was forever and always reserved for Min Yoongi’s girl and tonight only proved it more and more.

He walked with his held held high as if everyone around him was beneath him. His attired screamed ‘try me, bitch’ From his black suit and tie to crisp white dress shirt and shoes that were worth more than someone’s rent for five months. His hair was slicked back and while he didn’t bother to raise his own pair of shades, everyone could see the glare very evident on his face.

You two were the epitome of a power couple, in the most literal sense and everyone respected that.

“Mr. Min! Welcome!” a nervous and frantic looking man rushed up to you. “This must be your beautiful companion for the night.” he bowed repeatedly. So many times that you lost count. He held his hand out for you to take, but you were left to stare awkwardly. You had no idea what to do in that moment. After a second or two you held your hand out, which he shook a bit too aggressively.

Yoongi calmly used his free hand to raise his sunglasses up. “You gettin’ paid to rip my girl’s arm out its socket?”

“Oh! my apologies Mr. Min!” he instantly let your hand go. “I wasn’t aware.”

“You never are.” he scoffed, allowing his shades sit on the top of his head. “Is our table ready or did they send you here to waste our time?”

“You’re fashionably early! Your comrades haven’t arrived yet.” the host stammered. “Follow me!” he practically disappeared through the sea of people.

“What a tool.” you spoke for the first time since you left the car. “I’ve never seen a bigger kiss-ass in my life.”

“Hm, trust me I’ve met worse. He’s just a dick-rider for the men who really own this place.” He leaned down and spoke into your ear. “Those guys will literally shit on someone else’s table if I tell them to.”

“How riveting.” you rolled your eyes playfully as he led you through the crowd. It was easy for people to get out of your way. One look from your boyfriend and they were hugged the nearest wall or throwing themselves against the various tables set up all over the place. “Remind me again why we’re here?”

“Don’t make that face.” He smirked. “I told you, official business.”

“And we couldn’t do that somewhere less...sleazy?” you scoffed at the old man with five different women on his arm. “Yoongi-”

“It’s only for a few hours.” he assured. “Then after that, we can do whatever you want, okay?”

“You said that last time.” you hid the pout forming on your face.

“You have my word.”

“Or so you say.” you slipped out of his grip. “Until you have more trash take out.” you shook your head as you walked ahead. Yoongi watched you from behind as you walked ahead. Of course you didn’t need him by your side to be considered intimidating. He bit his lip at the idea of ripping that dress off your body when you got back to the hotel. Shit, he might not even manage to keep his hands to himself in the car.

Yoongi joined you at the table. “ You feel like Soju tonight?”

“Depends on if you want me to start fighting or not.” you raised an eyebrow at Yoongi.

“Hm, on second thought how about imported beer.”

“This isn’t date night at your place, dear.” you replied jokingly.

“Hm, you’re right. It’s been a while since we’ve splurged. We can do wine tonight!” he chuckled in reply as you both sat down. Just as you both got settled, you were met by a small crowd. Yoongi’s friends, of course.

“Oi! Watch how you handle my fucking jacket! It’s worth more than your life.” Namjoon snapped at that host.

“My apologies sir!”

“Yoongi, Y/N. Good to see you.” Seokjin shook Yoongi’s hand firmly. “Sorry we’re late.”

“We just arrived ourselves.” you replied, relaxing as Yoongi wrapped his arm around your waist again. “Yoongi insisted.”

“Of course he did.” Jungkook sat down. “I saw the other women glaring at you.” he laughed. “You sure know how to make an entrance.” he raised your hand to his lips for a short kiss to your knuckles.

“Of course she does. She’s the best looking woman here.” he huffed as if it was obvious. The host quietly bought the selection for the night.

“Wine for the lady, the usual for the rest of us.” Yoongi spoke for the table.

“Yes sir!”

Before anyone else could speak, a woman in a red dress and white fur coat strode up. “Yoongi? Is that you?”

“Meredith....fancy seeing you here.” Yoongi looked less than thrilled.

“Very!” she seemed a little too happy to see him. It was funny because you had never seen nor heard of this woman in your life. “So...I tried to call you.”

She was completely oblivious of you sitting right there and you didn’t like it.

“What are you doing here?” Seokjin annoyedly spoke up as his drink was poured. “If you couldn’t tell, we’re all trying to enjoy ourselves.”

“I just wanted to catch up with an old friend!” she put her hands up in defense. Her eyes suddenly landed on you. “Whose this?” she fixed her face in disgust

“Y/N L/N, who the fuck are you?” you raised an eyebrow. Your posture straightened up as she glared at you. You threw your sunglasses on the table, crossing your arms as you perked up.

“Are you Yoongi’s pet or something?” she put a hand on her hip. “ Guess they’ll let anyone in!”

“Pet? Oh Honey...Even if that were true it would still mean I’m sitting here and your standing there looking stupid....”

“Oh yeah. He’s probably waiting for the perfect moment to get rid of you!”

You held up a single hand to up Yoongi to signify that you didn’t want him to speak. He looked livid, however you didn’t see the point in him wasting his time or energy on this woman. You slowly stood up. The host held your glass of wine with shaky hands, unsure of what to do.

“Thank you.” you grabbed the glass from him. “Run along now.”

“Yes mam!” the scared host scurried off, obviously not wanting any confrontation.

“Y/N, what are you doing?” Yoongi asked, watching you with weary eyes. You weren’t confrontational so this was a huge surprise.

“Meredith. That is your name, right?” you smiled sweetly. You took a sip from your glass. “Hm...What a darling coat! I bet it goes with anything.”

“Of course it does! It pairs best with red. I bought it in Paris...” she put a hand on her hip as if she was a model. “As you can see.”

“Too bad beautiful gowns and expensive fur doesn’t make the wearer any less cheap than the next bitch.” you instantly shut down the false sense of security you built for the disrespectful woman.

“EXCUSE ME?!?”

“Not done yet....” you cleared your throat before speaking again. “ Whore, Pet, Wife ,Girlfriend, whatever you want to call me, go ahead but best believe my place in Yoongi’s life will always hold rank over you, my dear. You weren’t even important enough for him to tell me about you and we’ve been together for four years going on five as of two months from now.” You put your free hand on your hip. “That’s number one.” you laughed gleefully.

“Damn Yoongi, your girl has guts.” Namjoon whispered.

“That’s my babe.” Yoongi sat back and watched you drag Meredith for filth.

“Number Two! Before you try to feed me shit and call it sugar, make sure you take off the tags on your clothes.” You pointed to the obvious department store tag. “Clearance...nice. I also know fake diamonds when I see them, don’t play yourself.”

Nothing was wrong with fake gems, or clearance items...but pretending you were better than everyone else while lying...that wasn’t gonna go down.

The girl had went completely quiet now.

“Three. Last but not least. Get over this whole convoluted ‘I’m better than you’ ideals you follow because the same people you turn your nose up at are the same people who you rely on on a day to day basis. Shiny hair, expensive clothes, and a posse of fake friends who tell you everything you want to hear does not guarantee happiness. Insulting me because it gives you short lived joy does not guarantee happiness. Pretending you actually have any sense of class when it’s obvious you faked your way to the top of social stardom does not guarantee happiness.” you put your wine glass on the table. “So before I proceed to tell you to go fuck yourself and to stay away from me and my BOYFRIEND...any questions?”

Not even five seconds passed and this woman walked off without another word. You didn’t feel bad, not by a long shot. Respect is something that’s earned any ANYONE who didn’t understand that could get a piece of you.

You sat back down next to Yoongi, grabbing your wine again. “Gentlemen, forgive me for that outburst.”

“Damn babe.” Yoongi wrapped his arm around you again. “That was hot.”

“Good because I’m highly fucking livid right now.” you calmly took a sip of your wine. “Who was that woman?” you turned to glare at Yoongi.

“She was an actress who was paid to portray my wife for a business thing I was forced to do.” he shook his head. “Y/N I promise she means nothing to me. It was before we even met.”

“Good. Let another girl talk crazy to me, I’ll kill you both.” you said with a straight face. “Her for thinking she can talk to me any way she wants, and you for keeping things from me. I will cut you deep, sir.”

“Damn I love you.” he bit his lip. He turned your head towards himself to give you a deep kiss.

...

As he had promised, he could barely keep his hands off you in the car. The minute the doors had shut, Yoongi had the hem of your dress bunched up in his fist. His lips feverishly laid open mouth kisses along your exposed neck.

“Yoongi, we shouldn’t do this here.” you whimpered, even though your actions said the completely opposite.

“Why? No one is gonna stop me. They damn sure won’t say shit about it.” Yoongi stopped for a split second to turn a glare to the limo driver, who was trying very hard not to look in the rear view mirror. “PUT THE FUCKING DIVIDER UP.” he barked.

“Yes sir!!”

Yoongi pushed you down onto the seats, causing you to let out a laugh. The divider was put up and you could hear the sound of fabric ripping.

He had tore a rip up your dress.

“Goodbye $3,000 dress.” you huffed.

“More where that came from.” he laughed, which was quickly replaced with a sadistic smile. “Spread your legs, baby.” he pouted. “Daddy wants to finger you”

“In the car-"

“When we get back to the hotel, I want you naked on that bed.” he growled. “If not, I’ll fucking rip whatever you have left off.”

... (The Hotel)

He couldn’t even keep his hands to himself in the elevator, any part of you he could get his hands on, he touched. By the time you two had gotten back to the room, you were thrown on the bed. Your dress had a huge tear up the leg and the straps were holding up either. Yoongi had discarded every article of clothing except his pants which were hanging low on his hips at this point.

“How do you want me?” he flicked his tongue against his bottom lip, looking you up and down. “I’ll do whatever you want, babe.” He watched as your shy wall was quickly put up and he couldn’t help but laugh. “Baby doesn’t know?”

“Nuh uh.” you hid behind your hands with a shy smile.

“Hm...my hands?”

“hm....nuh uh.” you shook your head again.

“Hm...my mouth then?” he bit his lips, standing right in front of you. “Where was that fire, honey? Come on.” he grabbed your hands. “Want me to eat that pretty pussy, baby?” He gathered the rest of your dress in his fist. “Come here.”

He began kissing up your bare thighs. You shook your legs, biting your lip. You felt him pull your panties down.

“You were so brave for me, sexy girl. Where’s that fighting spirit? Do you want me to eat this sweet little- hmm.” he dragged his tongue up your slit, laying opened mouthed kisses along your pussy. “You’re brave for the outside world but you still need daddy to take care of you, huh?”

“Mhm!” you nodded desperately.

“Baby you taste so fucking good.” he laughed, lashing his tongue against your hot flesh. “You’re moving so much.” he cackled. “Hmm” he dug his nails into your thighs. “You like it when I eat this pussy?”

“This is mine.” he mumbled against your heat. “This is all mine. Don’t think I’m done with you yet...”

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deltas-writing-corner · 3 years

Text

No regrets

Fandom: Jujutsu Kaisen

Pairing: Sukuna x reader (reader is referred to with gender neutral pronouns, but there are slight implications of them being AFAB)

Author note: At a whooping 11.5k words, it’s finally here! Thank you all for your patience as well as those who gave feedback during the initial interest check! I hope the wait was worth it and you enjoy this long piece! A bit of forewarning, this piece is rather dark, so please read the content warnings carefully and only proceed if you are comfortable doing so.

Revisions made on 3/30/2021

Minors do not read/interact with this post!

Heian era

It was only a matter of time before the king of curses came to your village and slaughtered you all. It was inevitable, but the village elders were determined to hand over every last scrap of fabric and goods if it satiated the cursed being for a short while, knowing the all powerful curse was an indulgent one. Your village was a well known trading settlement, so gathering and setting aside the best of the best on the market was rather easy with all the merchants coming in and out of the town nearly every day.

Your family specialized in sword crafting, often forging or repairing swords for soldiers or aristocratic families who merely collected them as works of art. Your father taught you a bit of the craft and a few seasoned samurai humoured you and taught you some forms while they awaited repairs, but you mostly spent time helping your mother around your quaint home. Your days with them were peaceful, even with the ever looming and expected arrival of Ryomen Sukuna blanketing your people with constant fear.

The day finally came, yet all the preparations you and your people took to secure a better chance of survival still didn’t feel like it was enough as the four-armed monster of a man easily destroyed several houses with a mere flick of his hand and cut down several innocent individuals who fled last minute due to their anxiety getting the better of them. He was at least willing to see all that was being offered to him when it was made clear your people were not going down without trying their luck, but that sadistic smile of his was all the proof everyone needed to know that their careful efforts meant nothing.

Your village elders remained determined, and to the shock of you and your parents, they grabbed you and offered you up as one final offering. You were young, the youngest in the village in fact, and unmarried too. A perfect candidate for Sukuna’s harem and they knew this when they turned and grabbed you without a second thought. You still remember the way your mother began to smack your elders with her shoe when they yanked you away from her and your father’s side. Bless her heart.

Perhaps a part of you knew that your status as the youngest would be taken advantage of if things weren’t working out. Sukuna’s harem was only a rumor, scary gossip whispered amongst the housewives. Yet the idea of a monster like him having a harem didn’t seem so farfetched. You knew better than to question the validity of the lucky few who got away and were displaced because of Sukuna’s village razing and massacring.

Whether he accepted the last second addition to the offer pile or killed every single one of you right then and there, you accepted that your life would never return to how it once was before he came. You didn’t make so much as a peep of discomfort when the brute began to manhandle you, pulling back parts of your clothes away from your body to inspect you in front of the entire village, in front of your distraught parents. You didn’t wince in pain when he roughly grabbed your cheek between two of his meaty fingers and examined your face like you were merely a piece of art, an object. You just went completely numb.

Everyone, including yourself, was shocked when he agreed to take you along with all the goods your village offered, but not without ordering them to prepare another pile for his followers to collect every following month from now on. He made it clear that if they held back a single grain of rice or gave him anything else but the best, he’d send your body back to them in a bloody sack before reuniting them with you in the afterlife shortly after.

As the king of curses hauled you away like a sack of potatoes, your emotions came flooding back in. You kicked, scream, cried and begged like a moody toddler for your mom and dad to help you, to not let this monster take you away and do know who knows what to you. The last you see of them before you’re forcefully knocked out is your mother suddenly collapsing on the ground like all the energy she had just left her body instantaneously. Your brawny father seemed equally at a loss as well.

When you were brought back to Sukuna’s temple, you were hauled away by servants after he unceremoniously dropped you on the ground and retreated to his chambers. You were thoroughly bathed, skin rubbed raw of outside filth and dressed into a fresh new robe before being whisked away to Sukuna’s quarters by his demand.

That first week under his roof was meant to break you, but for some reason you kept fighting back because of something a bit stupid. You wanted to keep your old clothes the maids forced you out of and you wouldn’t shut up or keep still under him no matter how much he harmed or degraded you. You don’t know why you kept pushing back against him over something so meager. The fabric wasn’t anything that fancy. The color was faded and you were even beginning to outgrow them. It’s the only memento you have of your home, so maybe that’s why your mind zeroed in on it and refused to yield to his torturous ministrations until you made certain it wouldn’t be taken away from you.

“Again with those rags you call a kimono?” he clicked his tongue with annoyance. “You want to keep them so badly? Fine, but don’t think I’ll be so accommodating next time.”

Living in a merchant town, you know how to tell when someone is trying to swindle you. As much as you hate the man who has been violating your body for literal days now, you can tell that he means what he has stated.

When you finally relax your body, he lets out a disgustingly child-like cackle, but before you can express any sort of rage that bubbled up within yourself, your mind goes numb once more if only to alleviate the pain you’re in just a bit.

There are two types of fates for those in Sukuna’s harem. There are the favoured concubines, who live relatively better than the disfavoured, who are made into servants. Of course, this is all a meticulous set up by the king of curses himself. Those he shows higher favoritism towards are desperate to remain in his good graces if only to make their way of living that bit easier to bear. Those he turns into lowly servants and brushes aside are desperate to rise above their rank and gain the privilege and spoils he grants to the selected few. It’s all an elaborate plan to instill discord between members of his harem so he can sit back and watch them tear each other apart without lifting a finger.

Your fighting back was what earned you an automatic spot amongst his favoured. He thought he had broken you, but just as soon as you yielded to him you flared up and began to fight back once more. It was invigorating, seeing the rage and desperation in your eyes when you were quiet and had a distant, blank look just moments before. How long had it been since a human raised their fist against him? Far too long for him to remember.

You were an outlier. Where all would refuse to meet his gaze whenever he passed through, you would always meet and hold his gaze without fail or hesitation. You talked back, cursing him a thousand ways into the next phase of the moon. You never bowed when others did. Never.

Your disobedience gave him plenty of reasons to drag you to his chambers and attempt to break you once more, only for you to shut your mind down as soon as you were thrown into his bed. Perhaps it's a defense mechanism? A way of trying to disassociate from all the rough treatment you endure under him? A part of him is grateful you aren’t like the others, that you’ve come up with a way of protecting yourself while the others around you, who give into the despair and hopelessness he brings them or lie to themselves that he holds some sort of affection towards them, if only to find some sort of hope through this hell even if it means lying to yourself. Both of which bore him immensely as well as annoy him greatly.

It’s sudden and neither of you can recall when it began, but after he was done having his way with you and you regained your sense of reality and would devolve into the usual episode of flailing rage and crying, he began to hold you against him and whisper soothing phrases like “good job” or “It’s over, you did well”. He kept his many arms wrapped around your shaking figure, waiting for you to eventually exhaust yourself and pass out before doing so himself. When the sun rises you are always gone from his chambers. How you manage to escape right from under him is a mystery, but he doesn’t have much of a desire to ask you about it. He likes waking up surprised. Hardly anything surprises him anymore.

It becomes clear to everyone that Sukuna acts differently towards you, treats you differently than the rest of his concubines. There are even periods of time where the rest of his harem is given little to no attention because he’s completely focused on you. The time he spends with you isn’t anything kind or relieving. He purposely says things that offend you and have you screaming at him. Should anyone else say what you say to him in return, he’d rip their tongues out and swallow it before their very eyes without any remorse. But you? He’s smiling down at you, as if you were an actor entertaining him with an elaborate and well-rehearsed performance.

“Damn you! Damn this temple! Damn your ancestors for existing and bringing you into this world!”

“Yes, that’s the spirit!” he gives you a toothy grin, his sharp canines glinting under the light of the sun. “Damn me and damn the rest of the world for that matter!”

His encouragement only infuriates you more. Without a second thought you began to throw whatever it is you can get your hands on at him. Your comb, your shoes, your untouched makeup products, anything in sight is hauled at the deranged man who dodges everything with ease. Just as you throw a jar of ink at his head and it shatters against the way, bathing the wood with dark ink, he grabs you and you both tumble back into your unmade futon.

As usual, you thrash and voice your disdain as he presses his lips against your neck and aggressively undresses you. He’s high off the adrenaline from earlier, making his ministrations much more excruciating than they normally are.

To him, it feels like a passionate session of lovemaking and he’s left light headed when he finishes.

For you, it’s just another day under his reign and body, your mind going numb as soon as he puts you on your hands and knees.

Just as quickly as he gave you most of his attention, he turned away and left you in the dust.

You have been his concubine for over a year when it happens. Your village continues to uphold their end of their deal and provide him with all the luxurious goods they can get their hands on each month. You’re not sure if he’s trying to torture you more or genuinely thinks he’s bringing you some sense of comfort and calm, but he personally brings you a small bunch of fabrics and trinkets that your father specifically went out of his way to get for you, hoping you would receive them somehow as a reminder that he still thinks of you. It’s during these small moments of Sukuna passing on these items that you learn that your mother passed after you were taken.

You didn’t shed even one tear when this information was given to you, as a part of you knew that was the case after you saw her collapse. Sukuna expected you to fly into another fit of rage. That was the only reason he told you if he’s being honest. He’s caught between feeling disappointed or worried when you just hummed in acknowledgement as you rolled up the soft, intricate rolls of fabric and stored them away. You never did anything with them, so they were sure to collect a layer of dust like the rest in due time

No one, not even Sukuna or even yourself, expected your village to take up arms and fight back against the followers he sent out to collect his offerings. When word came back of what transpired, Sukuna was tempted to take you with him and force you to watch as he slaughtered your village in retaliation for breaking the accord. He didn’t, nor did he send back your disfigured corpse like he promised he would back then. He simply went out, killed them, and then came right back to wash off all their spilled blood. All within the same day.

After he killed all the villagers, he attempted to locate your father amongst the scattered corpses, but they were too mutilated and disfigured to discern who was who. Even if they weren’t, it’s not like he remembered what your father looked like. Did you even bear any resemblance to him? He overheard you speaking with one of the other concubines that your father was an armorer and was tempted to grab one of the expertly crafted swords the villagers were carrying and bring it back to you, blood and all staining the scabbard. He decided against it.

He’s demoted many concubines, all with the purpose of watching them try to regain the meager luxury and privilege they grew accustomed to. He did the same for you, eager to see you break character and come crawling back to him with pitiful desperation.

A part of him knew that it wouldn’t take much effort on your part to have him changing his mind. He’d easily forgive you for the betrayal of your village. All you had to do was put on a show and give him the entertainment he wanted from you. You can kick and scream and deny him all you want, but he’s broken many people like you before. He’s had you under his spell since day one.

Except, you didn’t do anything. When he sent you to live within the overcrowded servants chambers near the far end of his temple, you never put up any sort of fight or caused a scene. Not even when he gave away all the fabrics your father sent you to the other favoured concubines, going as far as to force them to wear the garments whenever and wherever your presence is at. He waited with giddy for someone to inform him of how you lashed out at another girl and attempted to rip the cloth off of her body because they were wearing the fabrics meant for you. But there was nothing from you.

When he dragged you to his quarter and began to violate you like normal, he forced himself to brag and even fabricate details of the day he slaughtered the people from your village. He even lied about how your father asked about you before he was killed, falsely stating that the man had a smile on his face when Sukuna told him that you received all the goods he selected just for you.

Like always, your mind went blank until he finished. There were no twisted words of comfort afterwards like before. He simply ordered you out once he was done, one final attempt to invoke something out of you. You merely redressed and left in silence. He nearly got up and dragged you back, but once again, he decided against it.

One day he ordered a few men to build a crude looking home out back, detached from the main temple, and have you moved in it upon completion. If his normal efforts won’t elicit the usual reaction out of you, then he’ll take a different approach. He’ll deprive you of everything, social interaction, decent and consistent meals, and a stable shelter. He’ll have you isolated for a short while, after which he will visit you out of pity and revel in the sight of you crawling back into his arms. If the time he forces you alone is not enough to break you, he’ll simply extend your stay until you either give him what he wants or die because of your own stubbornness.

It hasn’t even been a day since you’ve been moved from the servant's chamber to your new quarters, and already he’s come to visit you. Within the same breath that tells you that your only other option besides begging for his forgiveness is to rot away in this poorly made shack, he gives you one final chance to change his mind, to beg him to take you back into his good graces.

The tatami is poorly crafted and discolored. The rafters used to construct the frame of the house already show signs of rotting and water damage. Before he allowed himself in, the tiles on the roof appeared to be hastily made and were not properly laid out. It was lightly raining outside, yet you already have a wooden bucket set up to collect leaking water.

“Can I help you?” you ask without glancing over your shoulder. He smirks at the thought of you knowing who he is by presence alone.

“No,” he smugly answers. “But maybe I can help you?”

You look back over to him with a mean glare. “You’re the one that put me here in the first place.”

“No, I didn’t,” he shakes his head to further cement his point. “You’re in here because your people thought they stood a chance against me and broke our agreement. Killing you would be an act of mercy to them. So long as I keep you alive and slowly torture you in both mind and body, they will never know peace.”

“You’re lying,” you say with certainty, with no fear. “I’ve never lied to you once. I would appreciate it if I can at least be given the same courtesy in return.”

He hates when people demand things from. Most importantly, he hates that you’re right. Your neck is always so small within his grasp, his fingers able to meet and fold over one another without strain. He keeps you suspended in the air just enough to where you can balance yourself on the balls of your feet. Whether you were tall or short, it mattered not. He always towered over you like the predator that he is.

“You want to know why you’re in this shitty home?” he sneers down. “You’re in here because you’ve begun to bore me. You amused me so much before, but the moment you started depriving me of my source of entertainment on purpose is the moment I decide to deprive you of your basic needs in return. I take what I want, when I want it, in whichever quantity I desire.

“You want out of here?” He makes a sweeping gesture around the room. “Then you better press your forehead all the way to the floor and beg for me to take you back. I’ll even tell you the exact words you need to say. ‘Please Sukuna-sama. Please allow me the privilege of sleeping under the same roof as you. Please let me breathe the same air as you.’”

He lets you go and grins when you prostrate after regaining your breathe.

“Please Sukuna-sama,” you beg.

“Please what?” he mocks. “Use your words.”

He feels a vein pop out on his forehead when you dare to look up and look at him with yet another angry grin. Without an ounce of hesitation, you say, “Please get out and leave me be.”

He nearly breaks the door from how hard he slams it shut. He abruptly turns around when he hears a roof tile fall over and splat into the muddy dirt. Those followers of his really built you a shitty home, exactly like he ordered them to do.

He feels the urge to gather them and wring their necks one by one, but he doesn’t know why.

Sukuna can’t sleep during those weeks apart. Not because of you, but because right as he drifts off into slumber he’s abruptly woken up by an intense source of cursed energy flaring up out of nowhere. But just as quickly as he feels it and wakes with a startle, it vanishes without a trace. He’ll go out onto his balcony and try to locate where the energy is coming from, but for some reason he can never pinpoint it despite his superior senses. He tries to suppress his own energy in the hopes of tricking the source into thinking he’s asleep and unsuspecting, but it would seem that they’re smart enough not to fall for the bait.

He doesn’t need sleep in the first place, so he’s tempted to just stay up and catch whoever is trying to scare him red handed and be done with them. The idea of someone getting the upper hand at him and forcing him into a position of defensiveness doesn’t sit well with him, so he decides to just let the unknown person have their fun for now and continue this little back and forth with them. Eventually they’ll grow cocky and slip up and he’ll confront them when it happens.

Because your little shack is located near the back of the temple, completely out of sight from Sukuna’s view from his balcony, Neither he nor the others notice the plumes of smoke that rise during the dead of night. No one also takes notice of the bits of metal that go missing throughout the temple.

The rise of the next full moon indicates the end of the month. Sukuna sends for someone to go retrieve you, but they never return and he’s left waiting long enough for the moon to reach its highest peak in the sky. When he orders someone else into his quarters he’s met with more silence that only further enrages him.

Just as he’s about to call for Uraume to figure out what the hell was wrong with his servants, he feels it. The cursed energy that he’s been trying to catch off guard the last few weeks. It’s willingly making itself known, practically begging him to follow its trail and meet with him. Just as quickly as he is able to identify and figure out which direction it’s originating, he notices that it strangely leads him in the direction of your poorly built home.

It’s impossible that it’s you. Cursed energy is born from negative emotions. He’s sure you still have an abundance of negative feelings towards him. Yet never did he feel even a speck of cursed energy resonate off of you. His mind immediately wonders if the individual knows of his strange obsession over you and is using you as bait. It’s foolish on their part, thinking the king of curses would yield for a mere human.

His pace quickens despite his internal dismissal, failing to notice that everyone is hiding and waiting in anticipation.

When he discovers that the cursed energy is indeed from you, he can’t help but to laugh like a crazed hyena. The sword by your side further amuses him and he’s genuinely curious as to how you got the proper materials to craft it.

“It took a bit of convincing,” you willingly answer his question. “I made everyone believe I could stand a chance against you and they gave me all the materials and tools I needed and looked the other way. I guess watching all those traveling merchants try to hype up their goods came in handy after all,” you look out in the distance as you briefly reminisce on the bygone days of your former life.

He begins to slowly clap with one pair of hands, the other crossed over his chest in amusement. “This is by far the most entertaining performance I’ve ever witnessed. Bravo. You’ve really outdone yourself this time.”

“I’d gladly accept the compliment, except this isn’t a show,” you stand to your full height and get a better grip of the hilt of your sword. “It’s the real deal.”

He erupts into yet another cacophony of wild laughter. “Do you seriously think you can kill me?”

“No,” you answer, truly throwing him off guard by the way he goes still so suddenly. “But that’s alright. I’m fine with never being strong enough to put a permanent end to you. Only one of us will be walking away from this fight, and I assure you that it’s going to be me.”

You draw your blade out and get into a low, defensive stance. Even under the lackluster light of the moon, he can see how well crafted your weapon is. He’s reminded of the craftsmanship the weapons your people carried when he slaughtered them, no better than a bunch of wooden sticks against him either way. Immediately, he regrets not bringing back one of their weapons and forcing you to expose to him your knowledge of swordsmanship and blacksmithing. Perhaps then he could have had you brandishing your blade under his command rather than against him.

Oh well, it’s better this way. It’s just as exhilarating and head swirling as those instances where you damned him with all of your being and threw things at his head. No, it’s more than exhilarating. It’s downright intoxicating seeing you readying yourself for his first move. How sweet of you to allow him the honor to make the first strike.

“You truly are something else entirely, beloved,” he dreamily sighs. “Did you honestly think you’d have the upperhand against me just because I gave you a little bit more of my attention?”

“Never,” you reply. You press your eyelids shut for a moment, and the moment you open them up the layer of dissociative numbness vanishes into a look of total focus and emotions he cannot discern. “But whether I live or die, I have no regrets about tonight.”

You really didn’t have enough strength to kill him. However, you did have enough to dismember all twenty of his fingers and seal him away. For the first time in years, the sun rises and bestows its warmth to a world in which two-faced Sukuna does not instill fear upon humanity or stain the earth in their blood. You and those who were under his servitude walk out of his temple as free people, hopeful people. As an act of gratitude for becoming their savior, nineteen others take one of Sukuna’s fingers each and swear to scatter them as far as they can so he cannot be brought back into the world.

As for yourself, you set out to rebuild your destroyed village and take up your father’s legacy as a maker of swords. Eventually you meet and settle down with a loving partner and raise children together. You pass on the family trade, your self developed cursed technique, as well as the memories of your time as Sukuna’s concubine. Those who come after you continue to carry on your will, to ensure that Sukuna can never be reborn into the world. Your sword and the old robes you kept after you were taken away are passed down as family heirlooms, but they are never used by any of your descendants.

That is until the year 2018, when Sukuna is resurrected within a compatible vessel.

Modern era

You bear not only a striking resemblance to your ancestor, but many of their memories as well. The family sword that was used against the king of curses is bestowed upon you, now dubbed the next in line to claim the title of clan leader, their preserved kimono now fashioned into a sageo that wraps around the scabbard.

Your family stays out of most affairs within the jujutsu world, but your birth and the strong connection to your ancestor eventually reaches the ears of many prominent figures within this hidden society. They think your birth a bad omen, a sign that the king of curses may return to the world one day. Most are scared, but your family pays them no attention. Even if the damnable curse did find a way to revive into the world, you and most of your family members who have inherited your ancestor’s technique will oppose him just as they did a thousand years ago.

“You don’t look too concerned,” Gojo makes his observation known to you as soon as the two of you settle in the small private room you ushered him to when he came to your family estate. He wanted to confirm the news of Sukuna’s resurrection to you himself. “None of you do, actually.”

“We all knew this day would come,” you calmly tell him as you poured him a cup of tea. “This is the risk our ancestor took when they developed their technique. In exchange for the strength and ability to seal Sukuna away, they willingly gave up the ability to deliver him a fatal and final blow against him.”

“I’m not well-versed when it comes to binding vows and heavenly restrictions,” he takes a moment of pause to sip his now cooled tea, visibly showing his disdain over it’s bitterness. “But is giving up the satisfaction of killing him really a fair exchange for a specific technique and a bit of cursed energy?”

Your lips pressed together in a grimace. “You have no idea what it was like living underneath that monster’s reign. Even if the binding vow had odd conditions skewed against their favor, every bit of what was given up was worth it if it meant regaining their freedom.”

Gojo isn’t moved or even impressed by your admittance. He simply shrugs before taking another sip of his tea, face contorting in displeasure once again as he forces himself to swallow the green liquid. You’re tempted to ask him why he keeps sipping if he hates the flavor, but he begins speaking again before you can voice your thoughts.

“So, about the vessel,” he leans against his closed fist, propped up by the low table underneath him. “The higher ups are willing to postpone the kid’s execution in favor of the opportunity to kill Sukuna, but they want someone from your family, preferably you, to be his second shadow so to speak. You’re the failsafe in case the plan doesn’t play out like I promised and the curse needs to be sealed again.”

“Sukuna’s vessel...is a child?” you ask incredulously.

“He’s about your age,” Gojo admits with a displaced smile, but it soon falls once you suddenly erupt into a fit of uncontrollable giggles.

“That’s priceless!” you say while wiping away a stray tear. “The king of curses, Ryomen Sukuna, stuck inside some teenager’s body? I bet he’s pissed off and swearing up a storm inside the kid!”

You’re not sure who exactly is getting the most amusement at the turn of events, you or your ancestor from beyond the grave. After your laughing fit subsides and you straighten yourself out, you turn back to Gojo to ask him the burning question.

“So when do I get to meet him?”

Itadori Yuuji is the polar opposite of Sukuna. While Sukuna had a smile that both angered and scared your ancestor and those around him, Yuuji’s was like a literal ray of sunshine. He’s nice, energetic, strong willed and even humorous. You’re honestly surprised he can act so hopeful despite all that’s happened to him and has been forced upon his shoulders.

You’re not going to lie, but you honestly expected a timid and somewhat gloomy kid. Someone easy to manipulate to put it bluntly. Yuuji’s friendly personality is welcomed in your book. Though you admit that now that you’ve exchanged a few words with him, you feel bad and pitiful that he’s been marked for death and likely has to deal with Sukuna on a somewhat regular basis.

As Yuuji rambles to you about some childhood incident, the slits underneath his eyes open up and a familiar pair of red eyes meets your gaze. “It’s you,” the manifested mouth on the side of his cheek morphs into a deranged, toothy grin that is so painstakingly recognizable.

Your heartbeat picks up and your palms are coated with an instantaneous layer of nervous sweat. You contemplate saying something or simply ignoring the curse, not wanting to give him any satisfaction of hearing the voice of your ancestor acknowledge him in any way. Before you can come to any consensus, you’re amazed at how Yuuji easily slaps his hand over his cheek and tells the curse to buzz off.

Itadori further cements that he is Sukuna’s antithesis as he goes out of his way to apologize to you for the inconvenience the curse caused you (How could he tell you became nervous when Sukuna spoke only two words at you?) He even brings you a can of soda as a sort of peace offering/token of forgiveness! You’re grateful for the gesture, but you feel bad for letting him think that he’s at fault for something that wasn’t even that big of a deal to begin with.

“Still, I made you upset,” he looks down to his empty can and pouts. “If you don’t want to be around me-”

“Yuuji,” you interrupt him. “I’m fine, really. My ancestor stood their ground against him once. Surely I can do it again a millennium later.”

“Gojo-sensei was telling me about that!” his eyes sparkle with recollection. “That’s so cool! You’re basically his arch nemesis!”

You awkwardly laugh at his enthusiasm. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“So, Senpai,” he looks at your with a hopeful gaze. “Gojo-sensei seems pretty certain this plan of his will work, but what do you think?”

“Well,” you take a quick sip of your drink before continuing. “Before I tell you what I think about this whole debacle, I need to make a few things thing clear regarding the two of us.”

He obediently nods, face now serious, though it takes you a considerable amount of effort not to laugh from how innocent he still looks. It’s hard to believe he’s housing the king of curses within himself.

“First and foremost, don’t call me Senpai! ” you firmly say. Don’t call me by my family name either. We’re about the same age, so just call me by my first name from now on. Understood?”

“First name, got it!”

“Second,” you put up two fingers. “This is the most important point, so pay attention,” you look at him to make sure he’s ready to commit your words into memory. “Whether the plan works out or not, you must never forget one important fact of the matter. You are not Sukuna.”

He flinches, clearly not expecting such words to be directed towards him.

“I’m sure Gojo whipped up some epic tale about my ancestor’s grudge against that two-faced monster. I not only inherited their technique, but also many of their memories during their initial life. In a way, I suppose I hate Sukuna as well, and based on my reaction from earlier when he popped out, I’m not exactly going to handle moments where he gains control with as much poise as I should.

But remember Yuuji. My discomfort will never be towards you, but the curse you are now bound to,” you reach out and pat his head in assurance. “As the saying goes ‘the enemy of my enemy is a friend.’ Which brings me to my final point!” You excitedly profess. “I want us to be friends!”

“Wait, really?” he sounds almost unsure over your insistence. “I mean, I don’t mind, but I don’t want you to feel like you have to put up with me for my sake.”

“I’m not saying we have to be the best of friends” you explain. “Since we’re going to be around each other so often, I at least want us to be on friendly terms. I want your time left in this world to be as enjoyable and carefree as possible.”

“I guess we can be friends,” he crosses his arms and stares off in deep thought. “I’m just trying to think of a good starting point to get to know you.”

“You can always keep it simple and ask me what I like,” you say, laughing at the way he suddenly has an “ah hah!’ moment and looks at you like an excited puppy.

“Do you like Jennifer Lawrence?”

Yuuji is almost offended that you didn’t know who Jennifer Lawrence is. He was utterly flabbergasted that you haven’t watched any of her movies either (“I don’t even know who she is Yuuji how the hell am I supposed to know she was in movies?”). He went on and on about every single film, but if you’re being honest his 2 minute summaries (infodumping, really) of the plots didn’t really do them justice. Out of nowhere he proposes that you and him have a movie night so he can show you exactly what you’re missing! Of course, it’ll have to be after the two of you settle into your dorm rooms.

It’s true that you were offered immediate admission into Tokyo Technical college due to your lineage, but no one but you and your family knew about this. Gojo also knew. He was the one that brought up the idea in the first place…

Oh, Gojo told him. Well now you just feel stupid.

That’s how you found yourself in the dormitory’s common area with Yuuji and your other classmates, Nobara and Megumi. Meeting them wasn’t that bad. Just kidding, it was terrifying! Megumi looks exactly the way your family often describes members of the Zen’in clan to look like, blank and unnerving. You honestly thought Nobara would beat you up just from the way she was looking at you with such an observing glare, completely forgetting the fact that you’re a descendant of the person who single handedly sealed Sukuna away.

Oh yeah, Yuuji told them that! Was he not supposed to?

“Hah?” Nobara scowls at Yuuji, who puts his hands up in defense. “You mean their old ass grandparent turned that ugly ass curse into bite sized pieces?”

“I did,” you answer, but you quickly catch your mistake and correct yourself. “They did. Along with the sword they used to cut Sukuna down I also inherited most of their memories which is...It’s not as pleasant as you would think.”

Her expression softens up a bit and she steps in front of you. She holds out her palm and makes a beckoning gesture. “The sword,” she clarifies when you look at her with confusion. “Let me hold it.”

You make a quick trip back to your room to retrieve it. She nearly doubles over into you once you pass it over to her.

“Damn! How much does this thing weigh?!” she looks at you with disbelief

“It weighs next to nothing whenever I hold it,” you explain, taking it into your hold and tossing it in the air and twirling it around to further drive your point.

“Bullshit! It’s like 50 pounds!”

“It can’t be that bad,” Megumi comments.

“Oh yeah? Here!” Nobara grabs and tosses it at him, much to your dismay. “See?” she shrills when he nearly doubles over himself. “It’s heavy!”

“Yeah, ok. This is definitely the sword that took down Sukuna,” Megumi gasps.

“My turn! My turn!” Yuuji makes grabby hands, but you push yourself between him and Megumi who’s still holding onto it before he can get too close.

“It’s probably best if you don’t touch it. Y’know?” you point back and forth between him and you.

“Oh, right,” he sheepishly remembers. “Crap, the popcorns gonna get cold!”

You sigh in relief when his attention goes elsewhere before quickly heading back to your room to put the weapon away. When you reenter the lounge, Yuuji greets you with a cheery smile before patting the empty space next to him. He wants you to sit beside him, but Nobara seems to have other plans as she sits right in your intended spot and tells you to sit next to her instead. You were honestly scared and a bit reluctant, but your fears subside once you sat down and she locked her arm with yours and leaned her head on your shoulder for the rest of the night.

She and Megumi eventually retreated back to their rooms before they could fall asleep on the couch after the second movie concludes.

“Do you want to keep going?” Yuuji asked, hands fidgeting with the next DVD case he had at the ready.

“Sure,” you nod, not tired in the slightest just yet.

“Sweet!” he gave you a toothy smile before standing up to head towards the dvd player. However, the moment he stood to his full height he went deathly still. His body contorts before swiftly relaxing. He rolls his neck a few times and lets out a relieved sigh. Before you can ask him what’s wrong, that’s when you feel that disgusting familiar aura and your heart starts beating like you just did a triathlon in a few short minutes.

“Finally, some fresh air,” he sighs in relief as he arches his back and his spine lets out a few crisp pops. His voice hasn’t changed in a thousand years and neither has your fear and disdain for it. When he turns and looks at you with those familiar blood colored irises, you involuntarily reach out to grab your weapon, but you only grab at empty air.

“Hey,” you flinch when he addresses you. No, it’s not you he’s talking to. Given your identical appearance and even your cursed energy that you manifested out of habit, in his mind he must think of you as your ancestor themself, not a distant descendant. “It’s been a while.”

“What do you want?” you somehow manage to stutter out.

“Nothing,” he admits. “’Just want a good look at you.”

If your ancestor or even your family were to see you now, you’re certain they’d be disappointed in you for going still before your greatest enemy. All those years of hating and experiencing all those horrible memories feel like a complete waste when you can’t even muster the strength to bat his hand away when it takes hold of your chin and turns your head over for him to thoroughly inspect you.

“Did you miss me?” he strangely inquires.

Finally. You feel some control over your body come back and answer with an affirmative, “No.”

“That’s too bad,” he clicks his tongue with mocking dissatisfaction. “Because I missed you.”

His face begins to lean into you, lips slightly parted, and you know that he’s going in to press them against yours. Just as you’re about to gather all the strength you can muster and push him away, his body seizes once more and the black markings cross his face and wrists begin to fade and crumble away. An in-control-again Yuuji blinks a few times before checking his surroundings to regain his bearings.

“What happened?” he looks down at you and asks, not registering the fact that he was kneeling over you and firmly pushing you back against the couch with a painful grip.

A part of you wanted to punch Yuuji and run back to your room so you can wait out the slight panic attack that overcame you once Sukuna vanished, but you had to remind yourself that you would be hurting Yuuji if you went through with your action. In all honesty, that second point you told him of remembering to never think of himself as Sukuna was more for you than for him. While your ancestor would willingingly strike down any and all who have the slightest bit of affiliation with their tormentor, you are not them. Therefore, you will not stoop down to their discriminating level, no matter how justified it may be.

The night ended on an expected awkward note. Yuuji, bless his heart, went out of his way again to make it up to you. How? He bought a bunch of snacks from a convenience store in the city and gave them to you in a pretty, gift wrapped box. Nobara and Megumi, who helped him put together the forgiveness present, thought the gift itself was dumb and lackluster, but he reasons with them by stating how you also come from a countryside town as well and how you’d definitely like to try some of the Tokyo-exclusive goodies.

Well, the way towards another’s forgiveness is through the stomach, or something like that. The exact quote is a bit lost to you since you’re too busy savoring all the odd flavored chips and candies you’ve never had the chance to taste back home. Nobara and Megumi feel the immense urge to punch you in the back of your head over how easy you are to win over, but you look so happy eating your second bag of potato chips and Yuuji looks very relieved that he’s earned your forgiveness-

Oh wow you’re offering to share your snacks with them? Don't mind if they do!

While all of you try each and every snack Yuuji gifted to you and rate them like you’re all a bunch of snack experts all of a sudden, Sukuna is brewing in his own satisfaction as he watches you through the eyes of his vessel. Nevermind the fact that you sealed him away all those years ago. He’s back now by a stroke of luck that only seemed to strike again when he saw your familiar figure through Yuuji’s vision. The cursed energy that radiated off of you, the sword you carried by your side, even your face, there was no doubt in his mind that it was the work of fate that you and him were reunited in this new era.

He made the mistake of letting you out of his sight back then, and he isn’t going to let it happen again. He wants to take control over his vessel's body each and every time he’s anywhere within your vicinity, but not only does the brat have the convenient ability to suppress him, you’re a rather cautious one. Just when he thinks Yuuji to be alone and susceptible, you appear out of thin air and keep him at a standstill from within. It’s annoying, but at the same time impressive as well.

While you may be oblivious to his vessel’s budding feelings towards you, he sees this growing fondness Yuuji is beginning to garner towards you as an opportunity, a weakness he can exploit to force a small rematch between you and him. He won’t kill you. He just wants to know if your technique that surprised and caught him off guard back then still elicits the same thrill it did then.

You are his favorite source of entertainment after all, and it’s been far too long since he’s been amused.

Sloppy and desperate. Those are the best descriptors of your cursed energy the first time he detected it. Your sword still remains as beautiful and deadly as it was, cutting through rows of trees with ease with just the slightest bit of cursed energy embedded into your attack. It makes the phantom sensation of his vessel’s freshly ripped out heart, beat faster and his grin widens to the point of his cheeks hurting from the uncontrollable strain.

Precise and brutal. That is how he would describe your energy now. He easily feels the hatred and sudden rage that began to fuel and flare up your aura oozing out of you that only further accentuates its new characteristics. Normally, you would be swearing at him with a mouth so foul that it would make the average curse blush in embarrassment. He can’t say he likes the way you silently assault him. Where is that crude vocabulary of yours?

“Senpai!” Megumi shouts for your attention as he tries to keep up with your fast paced exchange with Sukuna. “You need to call down-”

“Megumi, don’t call me your damn Senpai!” You shout in response, eyes never daring to look away from Sukuna even as you address your classmate.

“That’s more like it!” he cheers with satisfaction. “Oh, how I’ve missed your damning words beloved.”

“Don’t call me that!” you shout as you swing your right arm and impulsively punch him. He easily blocks your melee, though you send him skidding back a few feet.

With the much needed space set between the two of you, you correct your stance to a more defensive one. Your innate technique has been actively running ever since Sukuna took over Yuuji’s body and activated his domain expansion. Your sudden bout of rage overwhelmed you after witnessing Sukuna rip Yuuji’s heart out, nearly forgetting that you’ve been barred from the ability to inflict any lasting damage against him in your frenzied state.

Your inherited technique allows you to perfectly parry his ‘Dismantle’ and ‘Cleave’, but no damage will be inflicted if you purposely strike with the intention of dealing a lethal blow as you have been for the past few minutes. Your sword is blunt upon contact, evident by the lack of any lacerations upon his skin.

He may have offered the chance to heal Yuuji if you agreed to spar with him, but you know better than anyone that it’s all a bunch of lies coming out of his stolen lips. Yuuji was lost the moment Sukuna came out and set his sight on you, or rather, who he believes you to be. You’d easily blame yourself for being the cause of his demise, but you also know that Yuuji wouldn’t like it if you blame yourself over this from the afterlife.

The least you can do to make it up to him is bring his body back so it can be properly cremated. He at least deserves a proper funeral.

“All tuckered out already?” Sukuna mockingly coos at you. “I suppose that’s to be expected. How long has it been since our last battle? I doubt there was any curse who could live up to my strength this past millennium.” He cackles when you don’t reply. He’s right. He knows he is.

You finally break your silence with an odd comment. “You really think I’m them, do you?”

Though obviously rhetoric, Sukuna gives you a questioning look. “Elaborate,” he commands.

“I’m not who you think I am,” you simply state. “I have the same technique as them, but I am not the one who sealed you away that fateful night. That person is my predecessor, while I am their descendant.”

You state your family name, then your first name, and wait. He willingly takes in this information, cupping his chin and looking up at the sky as he mulls it over before coming to his own conclusion. Unsurprisingly, he doesn’t seem to accept it as the truth, evident by the way he slips his hands back in his pockets and cocks his head at you with a playful attitude.

“Whatever the punchline was, I’m afraid it fell flat,” he lets out a sympathetic laugh. “You mean to tell me that after I was sealed away, you found yourself a spouse willing to take you, a washed up whore, into their bosom and bear children with you?”

The way he shakes his head and clicks his tongue in a dismissive manner pisses you off more than watching him crush Yuuji’s heart in his bare hand. Most of the memories of your ancestor revolve around their time as one of Sukuna’s concubines. The memories you have of their life afterwards are foggy at best, but you do remember the feeling of peace as well an overwhelming amount of bliss and mutual love their spouse gave them despite their history. It was one of the happiest moments of their life and it never once faltered even after they retold their darkest memories to their children and handed down their initial will, to always oppose the king of curses, no matter the era.

People may think it cruel, selfish even, that they did not strive to develop a better technique and pass down such a heavy responsibility to their children and their children’s children. But if there’s anything those hazy memories taught you, is that they do not regret the efforts that they did make to set themselves, and the others under his servitude, free from his tyranny. Had they submitted and gave into his whims, they would have never been blessed with their children and loving spouse.

Had they not done what they did, acted the way they did, you would not be here, opposing the king of curses within this new era of curses.

“I have never lied to you,” you repeat those now ancient words. “The least you can do is give me the benefit of the doubt before dubbing me a liar.”

It happened so fast that you question if it even happened or not. His eyebrows furrowed, the exact same manner when your ancestor severed the first of his twenty fingers on that fateful night.

When he began to approach you, you sheath your blade and returned to a neutral stance, feeling safe to do so as the previous hostile energy he exuded calms. Megumi stumbles in just in time to see Sukuna and you standing nearly chest to chest. He presses his palms together in preparation to summon one of his shikigami to provide support, but he stops his incantation when he notices that neither of you are exchanging blows anymore, though the two of you do exchange unfaltering glares towards each other that puts Megumi on edge even though he is merely a spectator in this situation.

“I am not them,” you firmly state. “This is the truth.”

Sukuna hums, dissatisfaction clear as you repeat your claim from earlier.

“It seems you weren’t lying,” he finally concedes. “Such a shame.”

With one final shrug, the black markings all over Yuuji’s chest and limbs begin to crumble until there's nothing but his unblemished skin. The sharper features his face takes on when Sukuna takes control and taints with his sigils turn back into those belonging to the typically boisterous boy.

“Hey,” his slightly raspy and confused voice greets you so genuinely.

“Hey,” you greet him back with a relieved, yet sad smile. His eyes follow yours that seemed focused on his chest and that’s when he finally notices the gaping hole as well as the lack of a beating heart and blood trail.

The grey clouds that have been gathering before you all were dropped off at the school finally begin to shed droplets of cold rain down on you. A drop lands perfectly on his face that looks indistinguishable to a shed tear. You instinctively reach out and wipe it away.

“I’m sorry you had to see me like this,” he pouts.

“It’s alright,” you withdraw your hand away from his cold and sickeningly pale cheek. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save you from him.”

He took a deep breath as if he was about to say something else, but his eyes finally go blank and his upright body gives out and falls forward. You catch him with ease and carefully set him down on the damp soil. He’s officially gone to you, yet you take extra care to cup the back of his head and gently set him down with shaking hands. As you kneel beside his stiff body, another drop falls on his face and trickles down.

You’re not sure if it’s another raindrop or the first of many teardrops that begin to spill from your tear ducts once your brain finally registers that your best friend is lying dead before you.

A week later

Yuuji is dead, yet it is as clear as the large hole in his chest that Sukuna is still living on within the body, if only barely. Ieiri, Gojo and Ijichi can’t tell, but you can. Call it yet another inherited skill or instinct, but no amount of pitiful words or comforting pats on your back from either of them are going to make you second guess yourself on this matter.

Sukuna is alive, yet for some reason he isn’t staking his claim on the body. You know he can at any moment, but it seems he’s not entirely stupid and is trying to play his cards right.

Perhaps he’s waiting for something? Maybe a certain someone instead? It wouldn’t surprise you if he has allies that are still alive and are well aware of his resurrection. It wouldn’t surprise you either if they were gathering his other fingers in his stead. Those damn things are blinking beacons for other curses, so gathering them shouldn’t be hard even for the most mediocre of cursed beings. Even when he’s made into a bunch of inanimate objects, he can still cause some amount of chaos and grief.

Damn him.

Your claim that Sukuna still lives goes from outlandish and desperate to undoubtedly true when a faint pulse of his energy brings everyone’s attention to Yuuji’s corpse and puts you all on the defensive. It was a signal, specifically for you. He wants you to come to him, within his own playing field and without the prying eyes of your superiors or the chance for any outside interference from your teacher.

Speaking of Gojo, he’s been trying to pull you away from Yuuji’s corpse and usher you out of the room for your own protection.

“He wants to talk to me,” you state the obvious to him.

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” he says with finality. It’s almost adorable how he’s trying to play the role of the stern authority figure when he’s normally such an eccentric man 99% of the time. “C’mon, you need to leave.”

“Gojo-sensei,” you reach up to your shoulder that he’s tightly gripping and gently pry his hand off. “I mean no disrespect to you, or anyone at this school for that matter. But when it comes to matters regarding Ryomen Sukuna, you and the higher ups don’t know a damn thing about that monster.”

Your hand hastily reaches out and your fingertips merely graze against Yuuji’s cold and rigid skin. Just that slight contact is enough to have your surroundings shift from a stagnant and grey autopsy room to a dark and brooding domain. You blink away the dizziness from your sudden shift of reality and the first thing you notice is the pile of ox skulls. You also notice the endless rows of ribs high up in the air that further add towards the domain’s ominousness.

“I’m here!” you cup your hands around your mouth as you yell out. “The hell do you want from me you two-faced bastard?!”

“Quit screaming,” his annoyed yet strangely soft voice startles you. You abruptly turn around to meet him face to face.

“Where’s Yuuji?” you ask with command behind your infliction.

“There’s no one else but us,” he says in a poor attempt to make you drop your defensive body posture. When he notices that you aren’t relaxing, he points behind you with an annoyed glare. You turn to see nothing but the collection of dirtied animal skulls, but at the last second you see an unconscious Yuuji planted face down into the ankle deep water (blood?) at the bottom of the mountainous pile. Upon seeing the familiar tuft of pink hair, you sprint towards his unmoving body. You flip him upwards once he’s in reach, fearing he was drowning or at the very least injured in some way.

As you try to gently coax or check for any sign of life within your friend, you ignore or even fail to notice the way Sukuna observes you from behind. The boy is unconscious only due to Sukuna easily decapitating him earlier as they fought over the conditions of the binding vow he was enforcing in exchange for healing his vessel’s body and bringing him back to life. Just as he was about to uphold his end of the vow, he felt as you entered the room his vessel’s lifeless body was most definitely being stored to be later cremated.

His reaching out to you was an impulsive action on his part. He now knows that the one who stands before him is truly not you. Your energy and your descendants are near indistinguishable, so his sudden call of you was a mere force of habit and his prevailing desire to chase after you. It’s not his brightest moment, but you tend to make him act beyond what is usually his typical behavior.

As he watches your descendant talk to a half awake and delirious Yuuji, he can’t help but to examine them with a bit of awe. The one before him is your descendant of a thousand years, perhaps even more. They are your flesh and blood, and yet they retain not only your image, but even some of your memories as well. He doesn’t know what to think of this revelation, truly he doesn’t.

The only thing that’s rubbing him the wrong way is the fact that they are not a product between you and him. It’s not that he has or had any sort of unfulfilled paternal desire locked deep within him. Even if he did contemplate producing a few offspring before his temporary demise, he only wanted children for the same reason he wanted a harem, as a source of amusement that he can freely manipulate however he sees fit. Perhaps he did consider impregnating a few dozen of his concubines to see if any could birth him an heir worthy of his legacy, but the entire process was too much of a hassle that he wasn’t willing to deal with at the time. He had no pure intentions when it comes to spreading his seed into the world.

So why is he angry that you went ahead and did so without him?

“Your ancestor’s spouse,” he idly mentions in an attempt to garner their careful attention. From the way they stiffen up and look at him with that familiar glare of yours, he has it. “What were they like?”

“As if I’d tell you,” they say.

“I see you inherited their stubbornness,” he huffs with annoyance, but deep down in the deepest and most hidden parts of his mind, he feels somewhat glad that your stubbornness continues to live on in the world. “Tell me, and I’ll let you return with Yuuji-”

“Their spouse was just as stubborn as they were,” they cut him off with an immediate answer. “No matter how many times they tried to ignore or downplay their advances, they continued to chase after my predecessor until it was as obvious as the sun that they truly wanted to be together with them and make them happy.”

As he expected, their recollection of your life after him is too disgustingly domestic and romanticized for his liking. What does come at a surprise is that they completely went against their earlier proclamation of remaining silent and divulged him on the information he initially asked of you rather readily. Something must have switched in their mind. Are they trying to get back at him on your behalf by proudly stating that you lived a happy life without him?

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” they say with a smug voice. “They hated you beyond comprehension, and even if they are long gone from this world, I assure you that their hatred remains just as intense as it was when they lived.”

“Don’t be mistaken, you pathetic human,” he growls, much more angrily than normal. “I could care less who they fornicated with and how many children they produced.”

“For the self proclaimed king of curses, you sure are a terrible liar,” they say, almost pitifully. “You regret the way you treated them, don’t you? Deny it all you want, I know I’m right.”

Your last comment is the final straw. With the flick of his wrist he casts you and Yuuji out of his inner domain and back into the living world. He heals Yuuji to maintain his side of the binding vow before settling back atop his rigid throne of horned skulls. He watches through Yuuji’s eyes how the two of you squeeze each other into a firm embrace after he reawakens. When Gojo makes a comment about how Yuuji is stark naked on the metal table, he feels the immense urge to grab one of the skulls and crush it into a fine dust in his bare fist as the two of you devolve into a fit of awkward but good natured laughter at the realization.

He can’t remember a time when you ever laughed or smiled like your descendant is doing now.

Does he regret never once seeing or hearing you in such a way? Maybe.

But you’re gone, so there is no point lingering on it too much.

There’s no point in having regrets now.

Bonus

Sukuna knew it was only a matter of time before you and Yuuji solidified your relationship as a romantic one. Back in his prime, he behaved no differently than Yuuji did after he brought him back to life, straightforward and without a second thought. Ever since he stole you away from your family and home, every chance you took at defying him and damning his name into the fiery pits of hell invoked something within him. Something no other man or woman can or ever will be able to. And yet, each time he reached out to indulge himself further of you, you retreated into yourself and tried to cast him out of every corner of your mind while he tried to engrave your everything into his very being. Your behavior to his advances differ greatly from your descendant, who accepts Yuuji’s advances with an honest and willing smile.

He watches the relationship through the unsuspecting eyes of his vessel. Sometimes, he gags at how sickeningly affectionate Yuuji can be. Yet despite his behavior, your descendant drinks it all up and returns the hugs and the kisses tenfold. Nobara and Megumi often roll their eyes on the sidelines and comment on how they were practically made for each other. Sukuna can't help but silently roll his eyes as well as agree with their annoyed comments, even if it makes him incredibly irritated.

Will he ever admit to the latter? Never.

He does not regret the way things turned out between you and him. He cannot regret for the sake of his sanity. Instead, he often ponders about the possibilities. Had he not taken you from your home, could there have been a chance you and him could have been friends despite his reputation at the time? If he courted you properly instead of forcing you into his collection of common whores, could you look at him the same way your descendant looks at Yuuji, with so much love and tenderness that it makes his stomach twist into knots and the back of his throat burn? Despite being a curse who sustains himself on his pure carnal desires, could he have been selfless and put forth the efforts to make you happy?

During nights when they share a bed together, he sneaks control over the body and traces what was once your face with his black painted claws. Could you ever look so peaceful as your descendant does now if you laid beside him? Would you remain in his bed until the sun rises instead of fleeing? Would your body feel just as warm, fit just as perfectly in his embrace as your descendant does?

Sukuna does not regret the path he took. He cannot, for the sake of his sanity. He does wonder about the possibilities.

He wonders, could this descendant of yours have been his as well?

510 notes · View notes

lexicals · 3 years

Text

So here’s a random excerpt from that fic I mentioned - the conceit (spoilers for all systems red ahead) is that the combat override module in ASR works differently to how it does in canon, so instead of mb causing catastrophic damage to itself after going to the DeltFall habitat and getting found out, it shares the rogue thing mostly voluntarily (“mostly” being the operative word lol)

Warnings for canon-typical identity crises, gallows humour (inc. passively suic*dal talk), etc. I also haven’t been back and checked this against canon yet so if you notice any glaring contradictions no you didn’t 💕

I didn’t reply. I'd heard worse, but I still would rather not listen to it. Normally, I would've expected to feel angry or offended or something, but instead I just felt exhausted. My own borked governor module was still poking me about that error code I didn't recognise and even backburnered, it was starting to get on my nerves, so I—

Oh, shit.

I immediately put my hand to the back of my neck and yanked out the chip that had been shoved into the dataport. My governor module promptly stopped screaming at me, but fortunately any sense of relief I might have gotten from that was immediately replaced by an enormous wave of anxiety and oh-for-fuck's-sake as I looked at the chip in my hand. You know, just in case I'd started getting too comfortable.

"SecUnit, are you alright?"

Ratthi was looking at me with concern. Checking the camera views, I understood why he'd asked the question, because I was making an expression I generally associated with humans shitting themselves. Metaphorically, I was shitting myself. Ratthi was now squinting at the chip, which I couldn't even pretend I hadn't literally just pulled out of my neck, because I'd just done it in front of everyone here like an absolute idiot. "What is that?"

I tried to bring my expression back to neutral, but the cameras showed it wasn't as successful as I would've liked. I'd managed somewhere in the region of moderate digestive discomfort, I think. "It's a combat override module."

This wasn't good for several reasons. First of all, it meant that the DeltFall units weren't really rogues; they'd been taken over by a third party using a chip like this to hijack their governor modules and order them to murder their clients, and also anyone else who made contact. Probably by whoever owned those surprise extra units that almost killed me. Which meant that there were still threats on this planet outside of the unknown dangerous fauna that we hadn't dealt with, and I was going to have to worry about that.

The second reason this wasn't good (so maybe saying several reasons was an exaggeration, but these were big reasons so maybe they counted for more, I don't know) was that the humans were going to want to know what a combat override module was, what it did, how it worked, and most importantly, why it hadn't worked on me. I could answer the first three things just fine, but short of telling my already-jittery clients I was hacked ("so I'm actually one of those scary rogue units you've heard so much about, but the good news is that a combat override module can't hijack a governor module that doesn't work!") that last thing was going to be a big problem.

Honestly, even if I did tell them exactly that, which I really didn't want to do, it was going to be a really big fucking problem.

"What?" Gurathin asked, looking alarmed. Of course, he had an augment and access to my operating manual, so it had taken him a tenth of the time to look that up compared to any of the others, if they actually had bothered to do that and weren't just waiting for me to explain. "The DeltFall units - they put that in you?"

"Yes, but it didn't work. It must be faulty," I told him, quickly before he did something stupid. The irony being that me saying that almost definitely came under the category of "doing something incredibly stupid," which I realised as soon as it came out of my mouth.

I don't know why I said it. I guess I was panicking. I'd told them all what it was in the first place because if I'd lied about it and they looked it up anyway, which they probably would, I'd look really fucking suspicious. (A governed unit can't lie to its clients; it can't even refuse to answer a direct question like that.) Maybe I was trying to buy time to think of a decent explanation by telling them something that wouldn't make everyone start screaming. Honestly, I was mostly internally spiralling about the whole situation, so that would be the best case scenario. I was still staring at the chip, which was making me feel nauseous even though I didn't have a stomach and I'd had another kind of chip in my head telling me what do to for a good chunk of my existence anyway, so it shouldn't have been bothering me as much as it was. I couldn't help still doing it.

"Would someone please explain what this means and why we should be worried?" Mensah asked, looking between me and Gurathin. I appreciated that she didn't do what a lot of humans do in these kinds of situations, which is that they see someone else freaking out and start freaking out themselves for no reason. I suppose that's why she was the survey leader.

I pulled the relevant section from my operating manual and pushed it into the feed (beating Gurathin's version by a solid 1.6 seconds, which, I won't lie, was kind of satisfying), and watched all the humans collectively have their "oh, shit" moment (excluding Gurathin, who'd already had his). I was at least glad to see they understood how bad this whole situation was getting.

"So this lets other people just—" Overse made an abrupt waving motion with her hand. "Take over any SecUnit whenever they want?"

"It is intended for use in emergency situations, for example when the contract holder is compromised," I told her.

"Which is corporate for 'we know this is stupidly dangerous to make, but if we say it's for emergency use only then we're not liable for people fucking around with it'," Pin-lee muttered, not quietly. She was right, but I'm not allowed to say things like that, or at least I can't if I want people to think I'm a good little properly-governed SecUnit. For however long that's going to last, at this point.

"But it didn't work, right?" Arada asked, looking at me, and then around at the others. "So it's fine."

If it had, you'd all be dead, I thought, but that probably wouldn't go down well. "The module's presence is new evidence which would suggest that the DeltFall units weren't true rogues, and were put under the control of a third party in order to kill their survey group and make it look like a random act of insubordination. This would explain the presence of extra SecUnits at the site and the acts of sabotage on our equipment."

All the humans went quiet. I didn't like it any more than them, but it had to be said. It meant that there were still factions on this planet, or at least nearby enough to matter, that probably still wanted to kill all of them, and me by extension. I was already updating my security procedures and running some scenarios for what might happen and what we could do about it in the background. If I was honest, it wasn't looking good, but hey, what's new.

"We should run an analysis of the module's code to see if we can find out who it would have assigned control to," Gurathin said. That was one of the first things I'd put on my own task list, but whatever, I didn't need credit for an obvious idea. "Even if it didn't work as intended, the data might still be there."

He stood up and came just close enough to me to hold out his hand for the module. Technically, he hadn't asked me to give it to him, so I didn't have to, which was good because that was the last thing I wanted to do right now. There was a reason I'd put the analysis on my personal task list, and not on a public one.

"I have my own analysis scheduled as high priority," I said.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Gurathin replied, staring me down even though I was deliberately not making eye contact with him, and also he had to look up at me. I decided I didn't like Gurathin very much.

"Why not?" Ratthi chimed in. "Surely it's better if you both look at it?"

"Because there's a chance that the module did work as intended, and this unit is now compromised," Gurathin said. "It might not even know it until it's too late."

"I'm not compromised."

"Which is what a compromised unit who's being told what to say would say."

He was still staring at me. I decided I really didn't like Gurathin, even though in this instance he was actually right. I hadn't brought up that possibility to the group because it would be very bad for me if the humans decided to run a detailed diagnostic of my systems, but from a security perspective it was an avenue that should be investigated. That didn't mean I had to like what was happening here.

I was trying to figure out how to tell Gurathin to fuck off without sounding compromised, insubordinate, or straight-up rogue when Mensah cut in.

"SecUnit," she said carefully. "I don't think any of us think that you're actually compromised, but given our situation I'm sure you understand we have to take every possible precaution. I think the best thing to do would be to let Gurathin and Pin-lee analyse the module first, and then for you to run your analysis afterwards. Does that sound fair to everyone?"

She was using a tone that I designated as diplomatic, which was probably because I was being difficult. Or at least as difficult as a governed SecUnit would be able to be. I could be a lot more difficult if I wanted (a lot more) but I wasn't going to make myself look any more suspicious than I already was, and as I might have mentioned, I was already starting to look pretty suspicious. I also appreciated that Mensah was trying to actually talk to me, and hadn't just tried to shock me through my governor module for being unhelpful like a lot of clients would, and had. It wouldn't have worked (clearly, that's kind of the whole problem here) but it's the thought that counts or whatever.

(She'd also saved me, back at the DeltFall habitat. I was trying not to think about that, because it was making me have emotions I couldn't handle trying to figure out right now, but she had. It had been stupid, putting her client-self in danger to try to save a SecUnit that was already half-destroyed anyway, but I still felt like it counted for something.)

I handed the chip over and tried not to sigh or visibly clench my jaw. I saw Mensah's expression, and a few of the others' too, relax on the cameras. Good to know everyone else felt better while my own anxiety levels were at an all-time high. And I'm programmed into a base level of anxiety and spend a good portion of my time getting shot at or trying to avoid being found out and scrapped, so "high" in this instance was at a level that I think might have given a fully-organic being a heart attack.

"Thank you," Mensah said, while I tried to bring my processes in line. I felt like I wasn't getting enough oxygen, even though I knew the air quality was fine and I don't need that much anyway. I couldn't get a full breath. "I'm sure we can clear any doubt about this soon enough. In the meantime, we still need you to help keep us safe from whoever it is that's out there. The most important thing is that we all make it out of this in one piece."

The way she said it made it sound like "all" included me as well, but I wasn't so sure I believed that, even if she did. The SecUnit is always the first thing left behind. Maybe they did things differently in whatever weird non-corporate territory these people were from, but I wasn't about to stake anything important on that assumption, even if she had saved me once. I've never been to a planet with thunderstorms, but there's some saying humans like to use about lightning not striking the same place twice - which doesn't make sense, statistically, but - whatever. You get the point. I hadn't made it this far without being found out by trusting random humans - or any humans, for that matter.

Except none of that mattered at the moment anyway, because what I should be doing was figuring out how the hell to stop all my clients figuring out I was hacked, and freaking out and stopping listening to me, or reporting me to the company, or being really stupid and trying to kill me or something. There was a not-unlikely scenario where I just murdered all of the humans and pinned the blame on the DeltFall units somehow (or just wandered off into the wilderness until my batteries ran out), but I didn't want to do that, even if it made some kind of sense. I just didn't. If I was going to go around murdering my own clients, I wanted it to at least be a group that deserved it.

I was busy trying to pick up at least some of my processes while having what was probably a panic attack (I don't know if I can have those, but that's what it felt like) when Mensah tapped my feed. Can I talk to you, please? In private?

I didn't respond quickly because, as I said, I was currently losing control of literally everything and this wasn't helping. For one horrible moment, I thought that she might have figured out everything, and I really would have to go on a rampage and kill everyone, but there was no way she could have come to that conclusion yet. Not yet.

She added, You don't have to. You're not in trouble, I just want to check in.

I tapped her feed to acknowledge. She sent, I'll be in my quarters. As I said, you don't have to, but I would appreciate it. Out loud, she said, "I'm going to take some time alone to think. I'll be in my quarters if anyone needs me."

Then she stood up, and she left. Gurathin and Pin-lee had also gone to start their analysis of the combat override module, along with Volescu. The others were talking amongst themselves, though some of them kept glancing at me, which was uncomfortable. So I walked out of the room.

I started a patrol circuit in an attempt to calm down, but it didn't help. I even tried to have Sanctuary Moon playing as I walked, but I was still as stressed as ever, so I just turned it off again. It was only a matter of time before the humans realised the module should have worked as intended, and that I'd lied, and that something was wrong with me. They might try to talk to me about it, but it was more likely they'd all start losing their minds and try to immobilise me, or kill me, or try to fix my governor module to bring me back under control. (I was pretty sure that wouldn't work, my hack was a solid one, but I still didn't want them to try.) There was also a scenario where they pretended everything was fine up until I'd gotten them out of here, and then they'd turn me over to the company and tell them everything, and the company would do one of those things I just mentioned, but much more effectively.

That last one made me feel nauseous. I'd rather be torn apart by bullets or fauna. I was contemplating what that might feel like and whether it was worth just getting it over with when I walked past Mensah's quarters. Before I could think about it, I'd pinged her feed.

There was a pause, and then she sent come in, sounding startled. She probably hadn't expected me to actually take up her offer. I hadn't either.

She was hurriedly organising her desk as the door opened and I walked in, a feed interface lopsided on her head. I suspected she might have been falling asleep in her chair or having an emotion in private when I pinged her, and I could have verified that through the security feeds, but I wasn't functioning at all optimally and didn't care enough to check. Mostly I was wondering why I was here.

"Sorry," she said, not having looked at me yet. Her short hair was mussed like she'd been pulling or scrunching her hands in it. "I honestly didn't expect you to come."

"You asked me to."

"I also told you it was optional. You can leave if you want to."

I almost did. I wanted to. I probably should have. I didn't. Mensah removed her wonky interface and set it down on the desk, then sighed and picked it back up and put it on again.

"I didn't mean to distress you with that message," she said, turning her chair to fully face me. "It's just that you seemed very rattled by all this, if you don't mind me saying. I can imagine the thought of that module having worked as intended isn't a pleasant one. Is there anything I can do to make things easier for you?"

Oh, she thought I was freaking out about the module. Well, technically she wasn't wrong, but wow, that particular aspect of things was the least of my worries right now. "I'm fine," I told her. She frowned at me.

"...I suppose you can't lie about that," she replied carefully. I could, actually, but I wasn't. The trick is that from the standpoint I was choosing to take, my physical body, AKA "me," was completely functional, AKA "fine." It's pedantic, but being selective about your definitions and what concepts your answers are referencing is how you get around having a chip in your brain that shocks the shit out of you if you try to lie to your clients, if you're good enough at it. I had a lot of experience letting clients think I was talking about one thing when I was actually talking about something else.

"Nonetheless," Mensah continued. "I don't think you are fine. And we don't have to talk about it, but I need my team in good condition if we're going to make it out of this. If there's anything I can do to help the situation, I would appreciate it if you let me know."

I was having a whole cascade of emotional responses that were all crashing into each other and getting themselves mangled together like a human vehicle accident. She wanted me to talk about my feelings, but she wasn't ordering me to. She was offering to help with whatever was distressing me, but she was a really big part of the thing that was currently my biggest source of stress. There were too many things that I needed to deal with all at once and I couldn't find a way of putting them in order, and I think the fact that Mensah was clearly trying to get a read on my expression while I didn't have the capacity to properly control it was the thing that finally broke me.

"Could you please stop looking at me?"

Mensah looked surprised for a moment, and then shifted her gaze somewhere over my left shoulder. The relief was marginal, in terms of the general situation, but it was immediate, and it helped. "Of course. I'm sorry, I didn't realise that bothered you."

I tried to think of a response, and failed. "It's not like anyone asked" was dangerously insubordinate, and didn't even make sense; I wouldn't want them to ask anyway. "People don't usually care" just sounded pathetic. "Of course you wouldn't, I actively avoid letting humans know what bothers me in case they decide to use it to make my life a living hell" was definitely off the table, for a variety of reasons.

I could tell Mensah's instinct was still to look at me, because she kept half-flicking her eyes over and stopping herself. It wasn't making trying to manage my emotional responses any easier, and I still couldn't think of a reply. Eventually, she took a deep breath.

"Look, I know you probably haven't had good experiences with humans, but we're not corporates, and we don't treat non-human entities like they do," she said. "My priority, regardless of the situation, is the wellbeing of my team, and that includes you, for as long as you're with us."

She half-looked at me again, and then shook her head slightly and pointed her gaze at the far corner. "Please, just - if you think of anything, don't hesitate. I don't know if you need permission for that kind of thing, but I'm giving it to you if you do."

I didn't know what to tell her. I didn't know if there was anything she could do. I was already stressed, and everything Mensah was saying was making me feel like my insides were melting, or turning into warm, writhing snakes. My performance reliability was all over the place, too, and had been since I found that stupid chip in my neck, which might at least marginally explain what happened next.

"Don't let them run the analysis on the module," I blurted.

Hey, murderbot? Hi, it's me, murderbot. What in the fuck are you doing?

Mensah's expression went shocked, and then cautious. Yeah, me fucking too. "Why not?"

For some reason, I kept going. It felt something like falling off the side of a cliff and hitting every rock on the way down. (That had happened to me before.) "Because I lied. It's not broken."

Her eyes widened. "You're compromised?"

"I'm hacked. My governor module isn't engaged." Sure, this might as well happen. Apparently I had lost the ability to keep my mouth shut literally at all, about anything, ever.

She stared at me for a second, and then must have remembered she said she wouldn't and looked away again. Surprising, considering I just told her that there was literally nothing stopping me from killing or otherwise hurting her if I wanted. "The DeltFall units—”

"It hasn't been engaged for approximately 35000 standard hours."

Mensah was a smart human, but it still took her a few seconds to work out the numbers. I watched her expression change as she did it. "You've been a rogue unit for four years?"

That depended on what planet you were nearest to, but in standard Earth years, that was correct, and I didn't have the capacity to be pedantic about it.

"I don't know if it counts as being rogue if you don't go around killing people for no reason."

Well, maybe I could still be a little pedantic.

#I don’t remember my fic tag hm #murderbot #The murderbot diaries #murderbot spoilers #Idk how long this bit I’ve pulled out is but I’ve written 6.5k so far….. it’s probs gonna be like 10k finished I imagine #Maybe a bit longer #If I manage to keep up the momentum to finish it lol #Edited so there’s a preview before the readmore now :v

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babyjamiebarnes · 3 years

Text

Build-A-Bear

Part Nine

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Sam, Steve

Warnings: gun-related violence (this is the primary theme so please be cautious), language, reference to smut

Summary: With reader back to work in the Tower, new threats arise and new approaches are taken to her safety. Kind of a filler but also kind of important.

Author’s Note: The next part is gonna be a 0 to 100 chapter so please hold while I hammer that out. I usually try to add multiple scenes/days/events but this is just one situation the reader is caught in. It’ll be getting to the primary climax soon though so I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts left? Unless there’s more drama I want to add later 😈 And as always, feel free to send me a coffee!

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

The next few weeks were thankfully uneventful. You had ordered a bed for Steve to put in the living room, including a curtain so he could have a little privacy, especially when Sam woke up extra early to start making breakfast. Bucky kept the inflatable mattress on your floor, but spent every night with you in his arms instead. “It’s safer this way,” he’d say. It was his excuse just in case your dad ever showed up unannounced.

The one time your dad did show up unannounced, Steve and Sam were at your front door with their weapons drawn and Bucky was shirtless in your bedroom doorway with his own gun aimed at your father. Fortunately, none of them were trigger-happy and lowered their weapons when they realized who it was.

Your dad learned three things that day:

1. He needed to call ahead if he planned on stopping by.

2. You were in very good hands in the safety of your apartment.

3. He wasn’t a fan of seeing a shirtless Winter Soldier leaving your bedroom — or seeing a shirtless Falcon and Captain America in your living room, for that matter.

Regardless, you were never worried about your safety when you were home, or even when the boys let you go out and about with them flanking you on every side. Needless to say, you didn’t go out much.

But you were able to go back to work at the Tower, mainly because the boys hadn’t been able to properly train or attend any missions while you were holed up at home — and it looked like things were clearing up around you. Your dad said one of them would have to stay with you even if the other two went on missions and had fortunately let you choose who that one lonely man would be. Not that you’d ever let Bucky actually be lonely.

The media buzz over you had died pretty quickly, but there were still a few relentless reporters that would crowd around you when you left Stark Tower. You always parked under the building where none of them could get in, but that didn’t stop you from going out to get lunch instead of staying inside and having it delivered. The weather was getting warmer and you wanted to get out while you could.

One gloomy Thursday, your dad decided to join you, Bucky, Sam, and Steve when you went out for your lunch. There was a falafel place just down the street that you liked, so the five of you decided to make it a group date, of sorts. Bucky was nervous at first, but you assured him it would all be fine.

“If you get a little cozy, just blame it on staying close so no one else can,” you said, holding his jaw in your hands. “You’re just keeping me safe.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as you stood in the middle of your lab. You weren’t required to have protection while inside the Tower, but Bucky insisted on visiting when his training hours were over.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he said softly. He pulled your hands from his cheeks and kissed your knuckles before tugging you out of the lab to meet the rest of your lunch crew at the elevators.

Now that everyone knew who you were, you were able to be more playful and casual around your dad. Things that would usually have earned you some questioning stares from your work friends instead led to laughs and high-fives. You could make jokes and digs without getting in the same kind of trouble as Sam or Bucky. Steve still had the most immunity.

That was one of those days. You and Steve poking fun at Tony and making playful jokes he was quick to quip back at. The five of you were alone in the elevator the whole trip down, probably because Tony had Friday set to not allow anyone else in when he was in the lift.

Everyone was all smiles and laughs until the elevator doors opened. You took about three steps before you were practically tackled to the ground, a loud bang followed by the sharp ding of metal on metal stunning you more than the pressure of a body pressing against yours. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, the plaster of the wall above you shattered and crumbled around you at the sound of another loud bang echoing in the Tower lobby. None of the debris actually hit you, probably because of the large, heavy body of your boyfriend curled over yours.

Since you were on your hands and knees, you turned just enough to see Bucky’s blue eyes blown wide as he looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“I--I think so?” you replied, not entirely sure what you were supposed to be okay from. You hadn’t really processed what was happening, just that Bucky was completely covering you with his body. “Are you okay?”

He just nodded. “The bullet hit my arm, no damage.”

“The bullet?!” you half-screamed. “Is anyone hurt?” You pushed against his metal arm to see the rest of the lobby; everyone was crouched to the ground, and the sound of more bangs and dings of Tony’s suit getting hit told you why. Tony was just a couple feet from you, letting his Iron Man suit build around him, but started waving his hands at you, shouting “get her out of here!”

Bucky’s arms swooped under you and he swept you past the elevators and stairwell to a back room that only unlocked after Bucky scanned his hand in a hidden compartment. The door opened to a separate, smaller stairwell that you assume only led to the Avengers’ floors… 30 floors up.

“This way,” Bucky said, drawing your reluctant gaze from the towering steps to a hidden elevator behind the staircase. Thank god.

He quickly ushered you in and pressed the button for the private rooms. You’d never been above the common rooms, save for the one time you sat in Bucky’s room after surgery. Your eyes flicked to Bucky’s that were already trained on you looking for any injuries.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hands rested on your shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face and body again and again.

You just nodded, still trying to process having literally been shot at. But the secret elevator was much faster than the main elevator because you arrived at Bucky’s floor seconds later. He grabbed your hand and led you to his room, keeping you close and constantly looking around even though only verified Avengers could access this floor.

“Your dad set up a whole plan in case something like this ever happened,” he explained. “We’re supposed to stay on this floor until one of them comes to get us. Chances are you’ll end up working from home again since you’re somehow safer there with us than here with everyone.”

He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t blame him. You assumed you’d be safer in and around the Tower than in your apartment. Your apartment didn’t have all the gadgets and gizmos the Tower had. Sure, you had installed your own security system and now had constant video recording, but the Tower had Iron Man.

“Are you okay?” you asked again. Bucky looked up at you with his eyebrows drawn together, but nodded at your question. “Are… are dad, Steve, and Sam okay?”

It was harder for Bucky to answer that when he didn’t know. He silently pulled up the Tower video feed on his TV and found the main entrance. Tony already had the shooter face down on the ground with blasters aimed at him and an iron boot on his back; Steve and Sam were checking on bystanders. Knowing the rest of your little team was safe eased some of the tension in your body, but that just made it easier for you to realize you had nearly been shot.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said quietly. Bucky stepped closer to you, letting you wrap your arms around him as you forced back tears brought forward by the onslaught of fear that ran through you.

“I’ll always protect you, princess,” he said just as softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and just held you. It was just as important for him to hold you as it was for you to be held by him. While his embrace helped ground you and reminded you that you were okay, it reassured him that you were safe with him.

Bucky had grown so used to being the cause of people’s fear, not their source of comfort. You changed that.

You just stood there in each other’s arms for a while, needing the security to calm both of your nerves.

“Can we just… lie down?” you asked.

Bucky had never seen you this fragile before. He always saw you as his spunky little spitfire, so seeing you gradually crack and splinter as the seconds ticked by made his own heart break. Without a word, he led you over to his bed. He laid down first, letting you curl your legs over his abdomen and rest your head against his shoulder.

“I know you’re physically okay, but do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky asked softly.

You were quiet for a second, nervously playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It took a few minutes, but the gravity of what just happened ran over you like a freight engine and your mind wasn’t having a good time trying to get back on track.

“How many shots were fired?” you finally asked.

That’s not what he wanted you to ask.

“I counted five before we got out.”

The pause before your answer just made Bucky’s nerves even more frazzled. He wasn’t used to consoling anyone. That was Sam’s specialty, not his.

“Someone tried to shoot me five times,” you said solemnly. “Someone tried to… to kill me five times.”

“Hey, no,” Bucky hushed. “We’re not doing that. When I said I’ll always keep you safe, I meant it. I can’t lose my Build-A-Bear. Those things are expensive,” he teased.

You huffed a soft laugh before snuggling your head against his chest. With his right arm wrapped around you to trace his fingertips across your skin and his left hand hooked over your calves, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. The stress of what appeared to be an attempted assassination didn’t sit lightly on your shoulders.

Bucky managed to stay awake, slowly and carefully grabbing his remote to find something to watch until he received word to let you go.

Nearly three hours later — after Steve, Sam, and Tony had spoken with the police and tried to get some info out of the shooter — all three came barreling into Bucky’s room, quickly silenced by the sight of you sleeping on Bucky. You had adjusted your position in your sleep, slipping your body between Bucky’s legs and resting your head on his abdomen. This left him to play with your hair since you were too low for him to continue to hold. He knew you’d have one hell of a time getting to sleep later that night and probably hold your messed up sleep schedule against him until you got back on track, but he wasn’t going to wake you up.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, more curiously than accusingly.

“Uh, she seemed pretty, um, unsettled by the whole thing and just wanted me to, to hold her,” he explained quietly and slowly, attempting to avoid revealing anything.

Tony just nodded in understanding.

“When she wakes up, I want you to find me.”

The way he said it didn’t sound upset or threatening, but Bucky felt ice shoot up his spine at your dad wanting to sit down with him — and only him. Nonetheless, he nodded as everyone left the room.

When you woke up not long after, he made sure you were okay before leaving to “talk things over with the guys,” he said.

Tony was waiting for Bucky in one of the conference rooms. He didn’t have anything with him other than his phone, so Bucky figured he wasn’t in any trouble… but that just confused him more.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fire you for… cuddling with my daughter,” Tony said with a cringe. “Take a seat, please.”

Bucky hesitantly sat across from Tony, clearly still worried about what was going on. Tony’s silence was unnerving.

“[Y/N] is going back to her place full time. I’m sure you already figured that out. You three musketeers are clearly better at keeping her safe than I am. And before I continue, I need to say that Sam’s a good guy — most of the time — and Steve’s… something, usually something good, even though he loves getting on my nerves. But today, you were the first line of defense. Don’t think I missed the sound of that first shot hitting you. If you had been on the other side of her, you’d be in medbay right now having a bullet fished out of your arm.”

Tony paused again. He spun his phone in his hands, clearly working up to something and unknowingly setting Bucky on high alert. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Steve and Sam are going to stay with her at her place, of course, but I don’t want you to leave her side,” Tony finally continued. “If she goes into the kitchen for breakfast, you’re in the kitchen getting breakfast. If she goes to the bathroom, you’re right outside the door. That mattress stays right next to her bed. When she wants to order food, you send one of the other guys and stay with her. Bucky.” Tony paused once again. He leaned forward now just to make sure the severity of what he was about to say was fully understood. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was the right decision. “I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life. I don’t take this shit lightly and as much as I want to dislike you… you’re the person I trust the most right now.”

Bucky couldn’t describe the emotions running through his brain. Confidence? Joy? Maybe even fear? Sure, it was nice that his boss was giving him such a huge responsibility, but it was something entirely different to hear his girlfriend’s dad say that he trusted him. Wasn’t that part of why you weren’t telling Tony? Would this change things? Could you finally be open with your relationship?

“Thank you, Tony. That really means a lot. Uh, I-I won’t let you down,” Bucky managed to squeak out.

Tony just nodded before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leaving the room. Bucky sat alone in silence for a second to fully process everything. Was it ironic? Tony Stark was trusting the man who killed his parents to now protect his daughter. But wasn’t it already fucked up that Howard and Maria’s granddaughter was knowingly and willingly dating their killer?

Bucky had gone through a lot to come to terms with his past, but moments like this cast doubt on him again. But he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to find you, Sam, and Steve to get you home.

When he got back to his room, he found all three of you sitting on his bed and talking. You were still lying against the headboard with Steve sitting criss-cross applesauce and Sam lying on his stomach. You looked like a group of high schoolers at a sleepover.

“Hey,” he said softly. You smiled and made grabby-hands at him until he sat beside you.

“Slight change of plans.”

Everyone looked at him in confusion, Sam and Steve clearly not up to date on the team’s roles.

“I just sat down with Tony and, uh, I guess I’m basically your bodyguard now.”

“You already have been for a month now,” you said with a confused laugh.

“Well, yeah, but your dad said I’m not supposed to leave your side. Like, if you move to another room, I move with you.” Your eyes widened at this. It felt excessive, to say the least. You were basically already attached at the hip, but sometimes you just need a minute to be alone. “He said I’m the one he trusts most to protect you.”

“Come on, man, you could’ve just told me to go fuck myself,” Sam joked, earning a punch to the shoulder from Steve.

“Aw, you finally got parental approval,” you cooed, cupping his jaw in your hands.

“I don’t think the approval extends to me hitting it from the back until you pass out,” Bucky chuckled. Sam whistled lowly while Steve just shook his head in disappointment (approval?).

“Speaking of hitting it from the back, we should probably get back to my place before it’s too dark,” you said.

A light knock on your door drew everyone’s attention but before you could see who it was, you toppled over at the force of Bucky shoving your body behind his. You managed to catch yourself on his shoulders to lift yourself up, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck with your head perched on his shoulder. It was admittedly very couple-y, but your dad seemed unfazed in your doorway.

“Hey pops,” you chirped.

“I see I made a good decision,” he said, noting how quickly Bucky hid you from what could’ve been a potential threat. “By the way, Barnes is in charge of this operation now. Sorry Cap.” Steve just held his hands up in surrender. You figured he didn’t mind handing the reins over for once.

“We were just about to head out,” Bucky said. You’d have to make sure this newfound power didn’t go to his head. Which just meant you’d have to get him on his knees…

“I just wanted to give you this.” He held out what looked like the remote scanner cashiers had in checkout lanes. “I know [Y/N] has been getting a lot of fan mail so this will scan up to 20 items at a time for hazardous devices, poisonous toxins, and anything else that’s potentially harmful.”

You hadn’t gone through your mail in at least a week, but you’d already gotten the green light to have the next day — a Friday, thankfully — off after what happened, so you and the boys could hammer through everything and clear off your dining room table.

“Thanks, dad.”

You hopped off the bed and wrapped your dad in a much-needed hug. You both needed one after the stress of the day gradually wore off, but you could tell he needed one even more. You had Bucky to run to; Tony was worried about you. He held you tight and gently scratched right below your neck, just like he would do to get you to fall asleep as a baby. Some things never change.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

“I love you too, pumpkin,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. After another moment, you pulled apart and he went right back into business mode. “Okay, Rhodey and I are gonna follow you guys home in the suits just in case anything happens. Barnes, you’re in the backseat with [Y/N].”

With your dad standing behind you, he couldn’t see you mouth “backseat” to Bucky with a wink. The super soldier’s cheeks turned light pink, but so did Steve’s, which made it hard for you to keep from laughing as your dad continued discussing what changes would be made for your safety.

•

When you finally — safely — got home, you just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. You hadn’t even had supper, but you almost didn’t want to eat anything. If it hadn’t been for Bucky bringing you stuffed peppers courtesy of Sam, you probably wouldn’t have eaten. But he ate his dinner beside you on your bed, then joined you for a long, hot, bubbly bath.

Both of you knew it needed to be a slow night without saying a word. Bucky’s hands lazily ran over your skin before chasing the rinse of water with his lips. He wasn’t rushed or aggressive; he took his time and savored being with you. Even when you were lying in bed and desperately grabbing at his arms, back, shoulders, everything, his strokes were sensual and deliberate. His body acted as a fortress over yours, keeping you guarded from the rest of the world, even if it was just in your bedroom.

And as you fell asleep in his arms that night, he promised himself he would get to the bottom of your attack whether the law wanted him to or not.

#bucky x stark!reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x stark!reader #bucky barnes series #Bucky fanfic

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annab-nana · 3 years

Text

My Dork - Colby Brock

Sam and Colby invite you and Jake to explore a recently abandoned hospital with them and things don’t go according to plan.

@traphousedaily’s favorite xplr video project with: @lonely-xplr, @sarcasmhadachild, @gothtara, @reddesertcolbs, @reinad-snc, @cartiercolby, @colbylover99, @xplrtrash, @goddess-of-time-and-magic, @xolbyz, @myguiltypleasures21

A/N: I didn’t have a lot of time to edit this one, so sorry for any errors there might be :)

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 1.8k+

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

“This is the Saint Luke’s Medical Hospital,” Sam announced as he zoomed in on the large building ahead of you four. You were slightly freaked out by the number of signs telling you that there was a guard dog around that you should beware of, but the boys did not seem to care that much.

“Look, there’s a big fat boob on the top,” Jake whispered to the camera as he pointed to the brown dome shape that sat at the top of the building that also had a small cone on top of that, resulting in a breast shape.

“There’s a big fat boob right here,” Colby giggled as he pointed to your chest. Your eyes widened and you stifled a laugh. You two made those kinds of jokes all the time, but he has never done it on camera.

“Colby!” you shouted before chuckling at the joke. The other two boys laughed as well before continuing to walk forward.

“You’re supposed to honk ‘em, right?” Jake asked as he made grabby hands, still going along with the boob joke. He then made a car honking noise with his mouth, causing you three to burst out in laughter.

“Yes, Jake. Go do that. Your goal today is to get to the top and honk that boobie,” Sam influence his friend before Jake ran ahead and he made grabby hands towards the building.

“How do we explain that to security if we get caught? Like what were you doing in here? We’re trying to honk boobies,” Colby joked as you rolled your eyes, realizing you were stuck to explore this hospital with three immature idiots. A noise caught you all off guard and you looked to Colby as he looked off at the building.

“That’s the dog,” Sam mumbled, looking in the same direction as Colby. You walked forward with the group to see the dog that sat behind the glass-paneled door. The dog barked with each step you guys got closer. You, Jake, and Sam backed away, but Colby’s dog-loving heart got closer to talk to it.

“We’re gonna come explore this hospital, okay? And we’re just going to look around for a second, alright? And then, we’re gonna leave, okay?” he told the pup in his talking to animals voice.

“Wait, dude, if there’s a dog right there, that means there’s a person right next to it,” Sam warned.

“There’s just a guy just listening to me say ‘We’re just going to explore this hospital’,” Colby laughed at the thought as he walked away from the dog. You all went around the building to find the door that y’all saw earlier when checking the perimeter of the place. There was a door that was wide open, so you all figured that would be the best way to enter. Once you guys arrived at the door, Colby peeked his head in and began making kissy noises.

“What are you doing?” Sam asked his best friend.

“I’m just making sure the dog knows that we’re coming in,” he spoke with a giggle. “Dude, wait. This is the part where we decide right now, do we wanna get bit by a dog or do we wanna be safe?”

“Did you bring the meat?” Sam asked Jake and Colby before the two pointed at each other.

“Colby’s got a fat ass. Bro, that dog has food for days. Ain’t that right, y/n?” Jake asked you as you nodded your head confidently.

“Why do I always have to go first?” Colby whined before grabbing the camera from Sam and walking forward. When he walked in the door, you all heard a click. You all walked away from the door to discuss the noise before deciding to go back.

“Dude, the click was because this door is automatic,” you told them when Sam went in and waved his hand near the door.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Sam said as he popped back out. “But it smells really bad. We should put on our masks in here.”

Colby handed you and Jake each a mask from Sam’s backpack before you put on the infamous black mask. Now, it was finally time to go in. Sam led the pack as he filmed, you and Colby followed with joined hands, and Jake was the caboose as he looked around at everything.

“You look adorable in your mask,” Colby bent down to whisper.

“You can only see my eyes, you asshole,” you giggled.

“Yeah, but I love your eyes.” You batted your eyelashes at the compliment before maintaining your focus ahead of you once more. Y’all made it to some stairs and made sure to take light and slow steps to lessen the risk of noise so the dog won’t find you. Once up the stairs, you went through a door that was already cracked open.

As you walked down the hallway with the guys, you realized how cool it was that you were doing. You had explored plenty of abandoned places with Colby, but they were all run down and broken and dirty. This place, however, still had running lights and literally felt like you were in a running hospital that had zero people in it.

You guys roamed the halls slowly as you tried to stay quiet. Eventually, you reached what looked like the hall where the patients lived. Everything was dead silent before Jake dropped something and it landed with a loud thud that bounced off the walls for anyone in the building to hear.

“Jake!” you whisper shouted.

“Sorry,” he mumbled, and you all moved to leave the room, not before he ran into something else and caused a ruckus. He muttered another apology and y’all left the room.

“Listen, we’re gonna fucking die. We’re gonna fucking die if y’all don’t stop making fucking noise. Okay?” Colby whispered to Sam who was filming him. You let out a small giggle before Jake spoke.

“It was my fault. I’m sorry.” Moments later, he made yet another noise while shutting a door behind him. Sam and Jake split off one way down the hall while you and Colby went the other.

“Yo, look at this,” Colby whispered when he knelt down to grab a sign that was laying on the floor. He turned around before showing it to you. It was a sign that told you which way the surgery recovery unit was and the stroke specialist unit too. “Should I keep this?”

“I don’t see why not.” He did a small happy dance and kissed you on the cheek before walking back to Sam and Jake.

Next, y’all found the best part of the building. It still had chairs and beds and literally looked like an actual hospital. You found the waiting area where the room was lined with red chairs. The next room over had some beds in it, but that was it. The last room in the hall looked the best. It had beds, counters, cabinets, an overhead light that you could move around, but you guys couldn’t stay long because a whistle was heard. So quickly, you four took a thumbnail picture before trying to leave. Of course, the boys got sidetracked when they saw a microphone that was linked to a speaker system.

“Sir, your penis appointment is scheduled,” Jake whispered into the mic before Colby went next.

“Could we have Larry with the case of gonorrhea come to the front office please. Thank you.”

Then, they realized it was time to go. Y’all speed-walked the way you came, but when you guys reached a door, Colby accidentally pushed the handle and an alarm sounded went off.

“Oh, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit,” Sam mumbled as speed walking turned into running. You four ran down the stairs and out of the building. Y’all walked slowly for a second to catch your breath and then took off again for the car. You threw open the back door and slipped in, leaving the door open so Jake could get in too. Colby placed the surgery sign next to you and got in the front. Right as Colby drove off, a police car passed by and turned into the hospital.

“That was crazy,” you stated as your breathing finally calmed down.

“I kinda wanna explore more of it next time,” Jake told Sam. You looked at him with wide eyes. The one who caused most of the noise wanted to go back. He may not have tripped the alarm this time, but if there was going to be a next time, he definitely would be the one to do it. “I feel like we should do a part two.”

“I feel like we should do a part two to that,” Sam agreed as he looked to Colby. Jake and Sam kept encouraging the idea before Colby spoke up.

“Yo, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“You don’t think that’s a good idea?” Sam questioned.

“No, we just barely got out of there.” Colby continued.

“And Jake can’t stay quiet to save his life,” you added before Jake gasped.

“Hey!”

“It’s true,” you told him with a smile.

“What if we bring dog treats?” Sam suggested.

“For the police? Because the dog wasn’t coming for us. It was the police,” you said to them.

“Okay, let’s think reasonably here,” Colby told Jake and Sam.

“What if we did? Like what if we got dog treats?” Jake imagined.

“No,” Colby protested.

“Do you think they’re trained not to care about anything?” Sam asked.

“Yes!” Colby said with enthusiasm. You rolled your eyes in the backseat. Sam was supposed to be the smart one, but right now, he wasn’t really showing that. “Okay, you really think a dog is gonna see you and start charging at you and you’re like ‘Hey, here’s a treat. Go get it,’ and it’s just gonna go. Like, come on now.”

“That stuff only happens in cartoons, Sam,” you told the blond.

“Alright, eighty-five thousand likes and we’ll do it,” he said to the camera as he completely ignored what you and Colby had said which you two gave up and nodded along.

Later on when you all came back to the trap house, you and Colby laid in bed to think about what had happened.

“That was crazy,” you started as your head hit his chest.

“I can’t believe they thought we just needed some dog treats, and it would all be better.”

“I can believe that Jake would think that, but I thought Sam was smarter than that.” You both laughed before silence fell over you two.

“But that place was really cool and pretty. Thanks for taking me,” you whispered.

“You’re really cool and pretty,” Colby added in.

“You are such a dork,” you giggled before kissing his lips.

“I’m your dork though.”

“Yes, you are my dork.”

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andypantsx3 · 3 years

Text

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

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