#so I just assumed the last thing was a summary of everything

[adventuringblind]

Entitled To You (3.6K words)

Norstaptri x Reader

Genre: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Summary: An incident with Lance sends the boys into a frenzy. She just wants to do what she loves.

Warnings: Explicit depictions of r@pe, injury descriptions, panic attacks, Oscar plots a murder, Lando throws hands, Car crashes, Author doesn't know legal stuff, Head trauma and blood.

Notes: This one is a request from @Lily234566 I know this wasn't the original pairing but I was struggling to fit the Ferrari boys in there so I had to scale it back... I'm sorry and I hope you still like it! T_T

Side Note: Sorry to the Lance girlies reading this. AND obligatory message of I don't know these people and this is purely FICTION! HEAD THE TAGS! DONT LIKE THEN DONT READ!

Masterlist // Request Form // My Website // buy me a Ko-Fi

“Max!” She peeks her head into his driver's room. The bright beaming smile she receives in return after their 1-2 nearly kills her. “They want me for a media thing, apparently.” HIs smile drops into a pout. The sad puppy eyes might convince her to stay. 

“Again? Don’t they know we have plans!

“No, and why would they care anyway?” She looks him up and down and whines because he’s standing in front of her with no shirt on. “Just - I’ll meet you guys back at the room. It’s something to do with being a female in F1… again.”

“I’m starting to think they have nothing else to talk about.” 

She shrugs as she walks out of the hospitality, waving to Christian on her way by. The goal is to get past the Mclaren garage without seeing Lando because otherwise she is not going to the interview. His pout is worse (better?) than Max’s. 

To her pleasant surprise, Laura is the one conducting the interview. “I’m sorry about this being last minute! They said they wanted you to do it with someone else next week and I offered to do it now.” 

The interview passes with ease and thankfully doesn’t take long at all. The banter in-between is also entertaining. 

She’s exhausted when they finish. Ready to go back to the hotel and fall into bed with her boys. Hopefully They’ve ordered food - and dessert. 

The paddock is nearly empty as she makes her way through. Maybe, had she been paying more attention and not focussed on her aching body, she would’ve caught on to the footsteps behind her. 

They are heavy, she assumes possibly a mechanic still packing up to continue on their way to the next circuit. That’s what she still thinks when the hand on her bicep yanks her around the corner. 

If she weren’t as exhausted, then fighting would’ve been a possibility. However, that seems out of the cards as he pins her against the nearest wall. Her forehead hitting the surface hard enough to make her dizzy. 

“Not so confident now, huh?” 

The fuck- “Lance? What are you?-” He slams her head again and cages her body against his own. She flails, only to be slammed again. “Would you stop doing that please?” 

“Not after that stupid stunt you pulled today on track.”

“You mean the one where you showed you don’t know what brakes are?-” Again, her head is sent into the hard surface. She can feel her nose starting to bleed. “Must you?!” She decided to shut up when he does it again and everything starts to go fuzzy. 

His fingers dip beneath the waistband of her fireproofs. The cold evening air hits her bare skin and she panics more than before. Her head is too cloudy to fully comprehend what’s happening. 

“I feel like I'm entitled to a bit of compensation after that stunt.” 

“You’re entitled to nothing. You took yourself out!” She hisses through gritted teeth. Still, Lance continues to get her clothes lower. And slams her head again harder - you know - because she wasn’t disoriented enough already.

“Would you shut up?” She doesn’t say anything this time. Her mouth feels numb and her ears are ringing. Her exposed lower half is met with the bare hands of someone she doesn't want touching her. 

It's - well - it hurts. He's groping at her thighs, ass, even her tits which she isn't sure how he's managing. His hands are everywhere they shouldn't be. 

And then nothing. 

A vague awareness of what's happening seeps through her veins and invades her senses. She tries to scream. Attempts despite the sheer pain of the snap of hips she didn't ask for. 

His finger beat her to it. A hand encloses around her throat and cuts off her oxygen. The black spots dance around her vision. She wants them to stop moving; they are making her dizzy. Or was she already dizzy? 

“See, it's not so bad. Don't you feel less guilty for ruining my race now?” No, she doesn't. She wasn't guilty before. 

She blacks out. 

~~~♡~~~

Waking up with sore limbs and a killer headache is not how she pictured this night going. She tries to yell for help, but a mere creaky rasp escapes. 

When did she lose her voice? The thought makes her panic more. The sob she lets out hurts more than there is sound. 

Her face and hair is sticky. At least Lance had done her the courtesy of not finishing inside of her. 

Still - what the fuck even happened? The fragmented memory is trying to come back to her slowly. Each small piece remembered is another broken cry. 

She can't move. 

It's dark again. 

~~~♡~~~

The anxiety between the three boys is certainly not something they are used to. Oscar can pinpoint the exact moment Lando started overthinking and Max had to bear hug him so he didn't pace a hole into the cement of the parking lot. 

The fourth seat in their car remains empty and their messages have gone unanswered. It's getting more concerning with each passing minute. 

“Max, she always responds.” 

“I know Lando.” 

“She always calls if she's going to be longer.” 

“Lando?”

“Yes?”

“Would you feel better if we went and looked around for her?” 

The Brit nods his head in a fashion that might give him whiplash. It's better seeing him feel helpful then sit helplessly. Though Oscar can't help but agree with Max's original point. that they should wait there at the car just in case since that's where they were supposed to meet. 

Granted, it's only been twenty minutes. It's still long enough to be murdered. 

They Methodically peer around corners and wave at the mechanics who give them skeptical looks. They were supposed to be out for post race celebrations by now. 

Oscar freezes when he sees it. The human shaped lump lying on the ground. He rushes over with long strides. The closer he gets, the more familiar the person on the ground becomes. 

“Max! Lando! I found her!” The other two boys come sprinting in his direction. He's on the ground trying to clear her hair from her face only for it to get stuck in the sticky substance coating her features. 

“What the fuck?” 

Her fireproofs are still on, but it's obvious what happened. The handprints on her neck, the blood trickling down the sides of her face. “We need to bring her to a hospital.” 

Max hoists her up in his arms. Mainly because Lando is on the brink of tears and struggling to breathe through his panic. He loves deeply and with his heart on his sleeve. Oscar just hopes he can keep the Brit calm until they find more help. 

“Can we at least clean her up?” Lando pleads with him. Big Hazel eyes brimming with tears. 

It's always a struggle to tell him no. “We can't, not if it can help us figure out who did it.” The tears start right after that. 

“So that’s what happened then? Someone really-” Oscar has to maneuver the puddle of tears that is his boyfriend into the passenger seat of their rental car. Max tosses him the keys, opting to be with her in the back and keep her comfortable. 

The tricky drive to emergency is more because Oscar is too far in his own thoughts to pay attention to the traffic lights. He can hear Max moving her around, attempting to put pressure where blood still flows freely. 

Oscar doesn’t bother with parking. He pulls off into some empty area and helps Max shoulder her weight inside the doors while Lando runs ahead to find help. 

It’s fast after that. They take her away and start patching her up while the three of them are forced to sit in the waiting room. Oscar and Lando are left to their own devices while Max paces about on the phone with Christian. 

He feels like a knife is being driven through his chest each time his mind tries to come up with what could’ve happened. Who would do something like this? Unfortunately, a lot of people. The question is more of who could’ve done it and gotten away. Someone with access to the paddock this late. Security, perhaps? Maybe even a sleazy mechanic? A driver wouldn’t make any sense… right?

“When will they let us see her?”

“When she wakes up, most likely.”

He’s not sure when he falls asleep. The exhaustion finally hit him like a truck despite his persistence. He’s awoken by Max’s constant shaking and aggressive whispering of his name. 

“-She’s asking for us.” 

He’s up faster than Lando when Jon threatens an ice bath. They follow the nurse down the halls with an uneasy anticipation. They creep inside the sterile room and find her staring at the wall. 

Lando doesn’t hesitate to move further into the room. Always having been more in touch with his emotions then the other two boys. “Hey love, can I come closer?” 

She looks at him. The bandages plastered over the sides of her head and around her face now visible to them. She returns Lando’s gaze with glassy eyes. It’s damn near shocking when she tries to pull things off her body in a desperate attempt to reach for Lando. 

Lando gets to her before she can get everything off, specifically the IV, and catch her arms. Oscar and Max finally pull themselves together and manage to get her to lay back down with some coaxing. 

She’s shaking violently. Her grip on Lando’s arm is sure to leave bruises. “Who - who f-found me?”  

“We did, schat. We got worried when you didn’t respond.” Max drags the two chairs in the room closer and pulls Oscar down into one.  Lando, against all odds, manages to wriggle his way into bed with her. 

“I know who it was. I - well - does anyone else know?” 

“Just Christian and us.” Oscar can feel the fight Max is putting up to not ask her more questions. The way he’s grounding himself with a hand on Oscars knee instead. 

“You don’t have to tell us.” He attempts to reassure. Maybe calm her mind by giving her an option. “Just know we’re here, alright?” 

“I don’t want it to be a big story. It’s already going to be since I can’t be in the car for the next four weeks. Oh fuck - everyone is gonna know-” Lando hushes her; gets her to somehow hold him tighter.

“Christian said it’s up to you, whatever happens.” Max nods at her encouragingly. “We go at your pace.” 

“They did a rape kit. They’ll know who it is. It was all over so it couldn’t have been hard to get DNA - oh fuck” 

Her heart rate picks up. The nurses rush in. They send her back to sleep. 

~~~♡~~~

Max wants to know who it was who touched her. The rage simmering underneath her skin is almost too much to keep contained. 

On the more fortunate side, they were allowed to stay since she wouldn’t let go of Lando. Then when he did have to get up, they rotated. 

The doctors and nurses learned to approach her like she’s a scared animal. The heavy footsteps seem to set her off and there is now a sticky note on the door saying to tiptoe when entering. It’s endearing to see her doctors and nurses trying so hard not to startle her. But seeing as they’ve now had several incidents where she’s panicked, they are taking more caution. 

Oscar and Lando have meandered away in search of food. Max opted to stay put and made the promise to bring him back cheat foods. He’s too stressed to not eat something of comfort. 

Her physio is supposed to come by today with the stuff she left at the track and get an update from the doctors themselves instead of Max’s botched attempts at repeating back. It will also be nice to see her comfortable, as the one blanket that travels with her everywhere will also be dropped off. 

“Max?” He tightens his hold to show he’s listening. “It’s not fair… You, Lando, and Oscar make a mistake on track and nobody does that to you. I - It wasn’t my fault.” 

The thing is, Max is smarter than people give him credit for. The only incident on track was with Lance. An incident that was his own fault. “He’s at fault, not you. None of this is your fault.”

“They are going to say I was asking for it or something.” 

“In those fireproofs? The only ones asking for it are me and Oscar… for obvious reasons.” He chuckles proudly at his little self compliment. 

It also manages to get her to crack something of a half smile. “Are you complimenting your own ass?” 

“And what if I am?” 

She doesn’t eat anything despite it being sat in front of her. Soft foods are the only thing she’ll be eating. Her throat, albeit not as bad as it could've been (thank you F1), is still damaged and needs to rest as much as possible. 

They had to keep her for observation due to where the head wounds had been. It’s been a rough thirty-six hours, but they are managing.

Despite the hectic situation, Max has come to learn that the female lying in the hospital bed is a better person then the rest of them. Oscar was detailing a full proof murder plan while she was telling him not to make it a bigger deal then it is. To which Oscar politely put his ten step plan with four contingencies down and told her that it’s ‘what he had coming to him’. 

Max has not had to stop someone from assassinating a rival before, but Oscar seems like a reasonable guy. “Death is too good for him.” 

“Mm, you’re right, I’ll just make sure he doesn’t die then and can’t see my face.” 

“Or, we make his life a series of inconveniences! I feel like daddy’s money could get him good therapy. It can’t solve every minor problem.” Lando has a gleam in his eyes. 

Him and Oscar start pouring over ideas once more. The girl simply shakes her head and goes back to eyeing her pudding like it’s assaulted her. “I don’t want to leave here, Max.”

“Why not? I’d assume you want to go home? Sleep in a comfortable bed?”

“Out there, they can get to us. Here is safe.” 

He considers how to reassure her. Only, there is nothing he can think of. The truth is that outside of this hospital room, there is no guarantee they won’t run into trouble. 

“I can’t promise that we'll never have something bad happen again. But-” He looks to the McLaren duo brainstorming ways to make the Aston Martin garage regret existing. “We’ll be there for each other. We’re here for you. When you want us and when you need us, yes?” 

“Pinky swear?” She extends her pink to him. 

Max accepts and curls his pinks around hers. “Pinky swear.” 

~~~♡~~~

It’s not fair really, that they had to leave to go do things. Lando would prefer he at least stayed with her so she isn’t alone. Alas, they are preparing for her discharge and he had to run around getting things together for their trip back to Monaco.

He comes back to a partially opened door and smiles at the other two boys being able to get back before him. Then again, as he gets closer he can hear the angry tone. One that Max uses when he’s pissed off about something. 

Lando panics and rushes inside. Only to be met with the sight of the last person he wants around right now. 

Now - he wouldn’t say he’s prone to violence. Lando prefers to keep the peace when it comes to conflict unless he’s trying to piss someone off on purpose to get a reaction. This is not one of those times. 

Lando’s knuckles collide with the Canadian’s jaw faster than he can fully become aware of what he’s doing. Lance stumbles backward and holds his jaw, glaring at Lando like he’s the one in the wrong here. 

“Get out!” 

“We were just talking-” 

“I said. Get. Out.” He’s seething. The thudding in his chest becoming louder with each second Lance remains in this room. 

He’s not prone to violence. 

Really, he’s not. 

Yet the second crack of knuckles into Lance's chin gives him some sick satisfaction. Isn’t there something about equilibrium? Can he pin this on restoring the balance or something? Regardless, he isn’t going to dent the fact that it feels good. 

The nurses come running and start asking questions. Max and Oscar have to drag Lando away kicking and screaming. 

Worse is when they try to tell him that there are pictures out on social media. Christian has been calling Max non-stop. Oscar has been dealing with Zak. Their relationship isn’t a secret and neither is their current location.  

“They're sending us a different car to see if we can’t get out discreetly.” 

“What happened with Lance, Lan? Are you alright?”

Everyone is panting. Their eyes trained on the door. “I punched him. I restored the equal-brey-um… thing.” 

“Equilibrium.” 

“Yeah that!” 

He’s not sure how they get on the plane. He’s still amped up about the whole punching thing and running purely off adrenaline. 

They’ve been sitting in silence, mulling over their options. Creating statements they can put out. It’s hectic and they keep trashing them because nothing fits. 

The female has been apathetic. The last thing she wanted was for this to get out and now it has. Seemingly everything is flashing before her eyes. Her career will be gone soon enough, so what’s even the point? 

“Don’t post anything. We don’t have an obligation to confirm or deny the rumors. If anything, we can say that you were just driving me to the hospital and being good friends or whatever.” She won’t look at them. Still - Lando can hear how upset she is, the waiver in her voice. “I’m going to be kicked out anyway.” 

“Christian said-”

“Damn what Christian said! He knows this isn’t going to get any better and if I say who it was then Daddy’s Money is just going to pay his way through.” She's hyperventilating now. Her body collapses against her seat and Oscar makes an effort to get her to lean against him. “It’s not fair!”

lando Can’t help but share her feelings.

~~~♡~~~

She stays holed up in the Redbull garage the next weekend. The appearance is hard, people want to ask her questions. Her boys had been caught in the middle of the riptide and haven’t come back to shore yet. 

At least she’s here. She’s trying her hardest to look stronger than she is. On the inside things are falling apart. 

The team knows to give her space and not ask about the ordeal. She takes refuge in Max’s room when things are too much and the other drivers keep their distance. 

They know it was one of them. She’d been adamant on not saying who it was, but it’s obvious there are sixteen who it could have been, given her partners insistence that none of them go near her garage for the time being.  

She just wants this whole thing to blow over. She wants to lay in bed with her lovers and not flinch when they go to touch her. 

She knows, however, that until she deals with things that healing can’t happen like it should. Or at least, that’s what her therapist says. The one she is now required to see. 

Things get worse when she’s back in the car. Her media duties are limited so she can focus on driving and ‘listening to her body’ as her physio likes to say. 

She can’t hear her body over the sound of her mind going staticy as Lance closes in on her. The catalyst for everything. She panics and ends up in the wall. Not the worst crash ever, but certainly hurts her pride more than it has already.

The thing is, it keeps happening. Even as she’s able to let her boys back in. As her podium finishes start to come back. Her fireproofs (which they’d gotten her all new ones) start to feel comfortable again and she doesn’t feel the need to be out of them the second the race is done. Still, Lance is using this to his advantage. 

Finally, after he almost killed her on track (again), she’s had enough.

The trial goes better than she thought it would. Despite the money differences, Lance won’t be able to race anymore. It’s not some grand spectacle either, just an announcement like usual. It’s more the closure she needed versus the publicized drama it could have been. 

She wins the next race. 

“If I ever see him again, it will be too soon.” 

“It’s been over a year now, Lan. I’m getting better.” There is a genuine smile on her face. The car awaits to take them back to the hotel. It was here that it happened. She almost considered not racing because of it.

“Lando got a taste of blood and now he’s feinding for it.” Max has a comforting hand around her waist. A grounding presence. 

“I mean, I never threw away my murder plot…” 

“You’re a genius Oscar!”

She shakes her head. It’s not like any of this has been easy. It never is. Still - her boys are here and they��ve been so patient. 

“There’s her smile.” They all beam at her. 

She smiles back.

#x reader #formula 1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #fanficion #max verstappen #lando norris #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri x reader #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x lando norris #lando norris imagine #landoscar #lando norris x reader #ln4 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x oscar piastri #oscar piastri #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri x you #op81 fic #mv1 #mv33 x reader

[junggunz]

7 | 🔞

summary: Joker starts having dirty thoughts about you cw: fembodied!reader, smut, imagined sex/daydreaming, light size kink mention, p in v, male masturbation briefly mentioned, all characters featured are 18+ wc: 1.4k an: im bout to implode fr.

It starts out as an innocent crush. Between just Hyuk and Wooin, the two have an extensive contact list. Joker knew that at some point, he would end up taking an interest in at least one of the girls they brought around; he just didn’t think it’d happen so soon. 

Joker tries to be casual when he brings you up on multiple occasions; asking Wooin how he knows you, what he thinks about you, what you’re like, if you’re single. All the standard questions. It’s not very often that Wooin understands his peer’s thought process, but it’s very clear that he has a crush. And naturally, he can’t help but poke fun at it. It’s just too easy. 

“You like Y/N? I can put in a good word for you.” Wooin says with a smug grin. 

“I didn’t say that.” Joker murmurs, looking away to conceal the rosy tint warming his cheeks. “Nevermind I asked.”

If it had been any other matter, perhaps Joker would put up with Wooin’s taunting a little longer. But when it comes to you, he doesn’t even wanna hear the other male’s vulgar mouth tainting your name. Since you were acquainted with Wooin, it was safe to assume that there was a 50/50 chance of you being more…free-spirited. He didn’t wanna find that out through any ‘he said, she said’ he wanted to learn about you by talking to you. 

For an entire week, you’re all Joker thinks about. You occupy every bit of freespace in his already cluttered mind. He wants to know everything about you. As much as he tries to fight it off, your bedroom tendencies and naughty habits aren’t excluded from his daydreaming about you. The thoughts come gradually. Laying in bed after a long evening, he craves the comfort of you beside him. Your soft skin against his as your limbs tangle with one another, your fragrance staining his pillow so he has a piece of you even when you’re gone. 

Thinking of you comes so naturally, Joker can’t even stop his mind from treading toward more racy ideas about you. He just wanted to decompress and wind down for bed by imagining what it’d be like to cuddle and have some pillow talk with you. At this late hour in the night, the last thing he wanted was to get his blood pumping by fantasizing about you; but it happens anyway and he’s lowering his boxers.

 “Be gentle~” You playfully coo to him, placing your hands over his and guiding him to strip you out of your clothes.

Were you just teasing him? Did you seriously want him to take things slow? Joker was more than willing to mold himself into the lover you needed him to be, all you had to do was let him know. From his memory, he recalls that there was a significant height difference between you and him. The way you batted your eyelashes as you looked up at him had made a mark in his mind. Despite you not being here to tell him what you wanted, it was a safe bet that he’d have to take things slow with you in bed. 

As each piece of your outfit comes off, the garments in a heap on the floor, Joker needs a moment to stare in awe at your nude body before him. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, hungry for a taste of your soft skin yet all he can do is take in your visage. He can’t decide which part of you he wants first. Being the little nymph you are, you make the first move. You’re kissing him; why didn’t he think to start there? The sensation of your soft lips against his makes him feel like there’s fire in his veins. Not even the most high stakes fight could exhilarate him like this. Your lips move fervently against Joker’s, the energy you exude is infectious and he can’t help but get more riled up.

It’s almost pathetic how much precum is leaking out of the tip of his cock from just imagining kissing you but Joker was long overdue for some release. He couldn’t even remember the last time he masturbated, let alone to something so tantalizing. 

Fueled by you naughtily sucking on his tongue the moment it slips out to graze your lips, Joker hoists you up by the thighs; loving how his fingers sink into the tender flesh as he hauls you off to his bed. You feel so small beneath his large palms. You’re his little slice of heaven. He’s torn between wanting to savor every morsel, wanting your taste to linger on his tongue. But the other part of him craves nothing more than to completely consume you. The way you present yourself on his mattress after he sets you down eats away at his patience. Everything about your demeanor practically begs him to devour you in one bite.

If given the chance to actually lay with you, he wouldn’t even think of skipping foreplay with you. However, in this lewd little reverie that plays on the back of his eyelids as he lay in bed, fisting his cock and wishing that it was your hand instead of his own, he can’t help but get straight to the best part.

“Ah- it’s too big…I don’t know if I can take it.” You gasp beneath Joker, your eyes watering and your teeth catching on your swollen lower lip to bite back the whimper that threatens to escape.

He’s barely got the tip entrenched within you and you’re already starting to fuss when there’s still several girthy inches awaiting you. You’re trying to relax and just endure the stretch but the discomfort written all over your face is too much for him to just ignore.

“It’s okay. We’ll make it fit.” Joker reassures you, the words coming out through gritted teeth.

Your little hole is so hot and sloppy around his leaking tip, but it’s still not enough to get your high strung nerves to relent. He pushes in with shallow, eager thrusts to fit inside your tight heat. You’re gasping at the feeling of him filling you up, the gently pulsing of his veins against your walls spreading heat throughout you. Joker isn’t even halfway in yet and you’re oh so full. Hands search for anything to ground yourself before your sanity falls through your fingers as you’re split open by his achingly hard shaft.

“F-fuck!” You whine, your walls nastily sucking him in until you have taken him to the hilt.

 Joker lets out a shuddering breath as he’s entrenched within your pussy, leaning over you and pressing your spread legs so close to your body; lining up your ankles with your ears. Giving an experimental roll of his hips to see how well you’ve adjusted, the small action has both you and Joker moaning unison. Repeating the movement, it doesn’t take long until the pace picks up to a maddening tempo that he loses his mind to as the desperation to touch and please every bit of your soft body. 

“Feel good now?” He murmurs in your ear, warm breath fanning across the side of your face and making you delirious when paired with the friction of his cock rubbing up against your tight walls. So slick around him yet gripping so tight, pleasure beyond your wildest imaginations courses between the two of you.

“Oh my god…fuck…that feels amazing.” You pant out when the tip of his cock repeatedly hits that special spot within your gummy walls.

The sensation has your thighs trembling and your moans coming more frequently; the pitch and volume increasing every time he fucks into you harder.  It’s so hard and deep, it should hurt but every single one of his touches register as pleasure in your hazy mind. 

“So good…just a little more and I’m gonna cum.” He pants, holding out until he was sure you were just as close to the edge as he was.

Desperate strokes bully your orgasm out of you mere seconds before he spills into you. Warming your insides with his cum after you had so generously soaked him with your juices, Joker groans.

The fantasy ends after an explosive climax. Though it was good enough for now, Joker was going to need to experience your touch soon before it really drove him crazy.

#arminsumi prompts #windbreaker x reader #windbreaker smut #joker x reader #joker smut #joker scenarios #junggunz.txt

[forbidden-interlude]

Last year I gave my sign off to give a client some discounted things … but I didn’t read it properly and they were actually discounting the entire department and the invoice came in today and

#I’m only a teenager fr #to be fair ! #they were already having conversations and they looped me in at the end #so I just assumed the last thing was a summary of everything #read the whole thread guys #I thought I gave a sign off for them to discount two (2) things #the invoice was two pages long too

[luvjunie]

earth 42 miles reaction to reader hanging up the phone on his face mid argument?

— facetime

pairing: e-42!miles (aged up) x fem!reader

contains: arguing, minimal cursing, slightly toxic behavior lol

summary: you love miles, but his overbearing nature is beginning to irritate you. the two of you get into an argument over it on facetime, and you snap at him and hang up the phone. wc: 1,537

a/n: ik the pic might not make sense regarding who hung up on who, but i like it so we finna pretend it does lol. miles/reader are only aged up for plot

“look mami, you not hearin’ me. i’m not tryna control you, i’m just saying maybe it would be best if-“

“that is literally you trying to control me.”

you cut miles off from another one of his mini tangents as you stared at him through the facetime call on your screen, so far beyond the point of caring to hear the same thing he’d told you a million times.

you loved your boyfriend with everything in you. honestly, you did. but in the last few months he’d grown to be so much more controlling than he was in the beginning, a result of his ridiculous need to protect you and it’s got your head spinning on your shoulders. you couldn’t do anything without him looming over you, and you’re fed up. it was suffocating, and you needed him to know that you could handle yourself.

you heard his voice come in again from your phone’s speakers.

“aight fine, if that’s what you wanna think, then that’s cool. but i don’t want you going out that late, chiquita, simple. ain’t no discussion.”

“alright, bro.” you sighed, and he tutted at you.

“i’m not your ‘bro’. don’t do that.”

while you knew your boyfriend only wanted the best for you, you didn’t really understand the extent to all these rules he’d given you. like no going to the corner store at night, having to keep your location on at all times, or having to send a picture of yourself when you’d gotten back into the house— so he could really make sure it was actually you texting him from your phone.

since then, you’d deemed it safe to assume that he most likely had immense trust issues, and that was why he acted so strangely, because any other reason for this kind of behavior seemed ludicrous to you.

miles had yet to tell you he was the prowler, that certain people had bounties on his head, which included anyone who may be involved with him, anyone he holds close to him. he saw everything that went on in this city— when night had fallen and the streets became far too dangerous of a place for a defenseless girl like you to be out in them. you had no idea the kind of people he dealt with, the things he’d seen, the things he had to do. he just didn’t want you to get hurt, but he wasn’t the best at expressing the sincerity of his words, and they often came out too rough, too harsh. it was the best he could do, he was trying to communicate effectively, he really was. but time and time again you’d failed to try and understand his pleas past the words spoken to you; to actually listen to them, and comprehend them, and not just listen to respond.

so, being you, you retorted like the stubborn girl you always were. the stubborn girl he’d fallen so helplessly in love with and was only trying to protect with his entire being.

you scoffed, rolling your eyes at him in disbelief. “look, you can’t tell me what to do, miles. i can do what i want.”

he didn’t hear anything that came from your mouth, because the expression on your face had completely distracted him from the conversation at hand.

“hol’ on, did you just roll your eyes at me?” his brow raised, daring you to answer that question with anything but a ‘no’.

what you responded with wasn’t necessarily a ‘yes’ per sé, but it definitely wasn’t any better.

“oh, so you wanna control my face now, too? dictating what i do with my life or the shit i say isn’t enough for you?” you challenged.

his head dipped back as he laughed, a deep, provoked laugh— though the both of you knew nothing was funny, and that this was always how he reacted before he actually got angry. laughing it off was a means for him to screw his head back on right, as if a warning to you to not push him too far, because anybody who spoke to him with this kind of gall just had to be joking.

he exhaled heavily, a hand scrubbing down his face.

“can’t lie, you talkin’ mad crazy right now, ma. i think you need to cool it with that.” he warned, corners of his lips turned into a forewarning leer. “ima let that lil’ shit you just said slide, cause i love you, and ion wanna hurt your feelings, but we done talking about this.” he decided, leaning forward to prop his phone back up on his desk before scooping his playstation controller back up into his hands.

“and watch your mouth.”

chin retreating towards your chest, you were taken aback at how quickly he decided for the both of you that the conversation was over, as if you had to agree with him, as if things were decided simply because he’d said so. and somehow, you found it in all your unbridled nerve to make things worse.

“yeah, you’re right. we are.”

thumb pressing to the red X, you hung up the phone, leaving miles to gape at the black of his screen with shock etched into his features. he waited for you to call back and tell him it was an accident, and sat there for a minute, leg bouncing to maintain what little patience he’d managed to cling onto during this entire ordeal. he swallowed his pride and called you back, only for the screen to read ‘facetime unavailable’ after just two rings. you declined it. squaring his jaw, he calmly nodded to himself, phone snatched up, jacket thrown on and controller tossed onto his bed— game forgotten about.

“bet.”

____

you were fuming after you’d hung up the phone, steam probably would’ve been puffing from your ears if something like that were possible outside of the cartoons. there was a tiny part—no, a huge part of you that knew you shouldn’t have hung up on him like that; that regretted it. a part that knew miles’ was genuinely trying his best to speak to you calmly in the way he’d learned how, specifically for you, when calm was something he rarely ever felt. but you couldn’t help your anger either, and figured a break from the conversation, and a shower to calm you down would do the both of you some good.

you sauntered out your bathroom after about twenty minutes, a towel tightly wrapped round your damp torso and a heavy, depleted exhale departing from your lungs.

you felt relaxed. the heat of the water had washed away most, if not all of your anger towards the situation and you sighed to yourself, ready to come back to the discussion with a level head, and to apologize to your boyfriend for snapping at him and ending the call so abruptly. it was rude of you, and honestly you hadn’t thought it through until you had already—

“you know, ion usually fuck with cats like that, cause y’all kinda freak me out. but you cool.”

the inner dialogue of your thoughts were cut off by a familiar voice, muffled through the shut door of your bedroom.

“what the fuck—“ you hurriedly started towards the door, hand barely remaining on the doorknob for a second as you flung it open, to see none other than your boyfriend, miles, sat in your desk chair with your cat, bella, in his lap.

he was leaned back, his large green puffer jacket still on, legs spread in his grey sweats. he looked very comfortable for someone who had just broken into a home.

“how the hell did you get into my house, miles?”

you stared at him unbelievingly, quickly shutting the door behind you. he was in no rush to lift his head to address you directly as he scratched the underside of bella’s chin with his pointer finger.

“window. you should really lock that.”

“even if i had, you would’ve picked it.” you argued.

“true.”

his eyes eventually met yours, and they gave you a drawn out once over, gaze following the drops of water that rolled down your skin. there was a hint of a smirk on his lips, and he almost forgot what he came here for. almost.

you felt your face heat up, grip tightening over your bath towel as you shifted on your feet, suddenly feeling flustered from the boldness of his gaze. so he looked away.

“let’s hope that shower gave your mama some of her sense back, huh?” he dipped his head down to address your cat in a sweet voice, before gently lifting her off his lap and placing her back onto the floor, only for her to drag her head and body along his calf with a purr. traitor.

he leaned back once more, hands patiently clasped between his open legs and head cocked to the side, twin braids swishing behind him when he did so.

“so wassup? you wanna try that conversation again?” with a brow raised he studied your features, as if he were silently challenging you to talk that same shit you did over the phone to his face.

“do you know what boundaries are?”

“nah, not really.” he admitted.

you swallowed, gesturing towards the open room for a reason you didn’t know why.

“can i at least get dressed first?” you cringed at how your voice sounded when you spoke, but the way he was looking at you had your mind reeling and you could only focus on one thing at a time— the argument long forgotten. to be honest, you don’t even recall what you had a problem with.

he shrugged. “sure, if that’s what you’d like.” arms crossing over his chest he spun around in your swivel chair, now facing the same window he’d come in through. “lemme know when i can turn around.”

you sighed.

this boy was going to be the death of you.

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are very appreciated 💗

#junie’s works ᥫ᭡ #across the spiderverse #miles g morales #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales #miles morales fanfiction #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales prowler #42 miles morales #miles morales x reader #miles morales x y/n #earth 42 miles x reader #miles 42 #prowler miles fanfic #atsv prowler #prowler miles #prowler miles fluff

[luvrxbunny]

so much

pairing: bf!Miguel O’Hara  x f!reader

summary: You give Miguel a handjob for the first time.

warnings: 18+ MDNI, handjob, lots of cum (lmk if i forgot anything)

wc: 2.1k

a/n: i blacked out again. 

Miguel stopped kissing you maybe fifteen minutes ago. He said he was getting too worked up and that you guys should stop, of course, you respected his wishes. You’re both now sitting in bed, he’s reading and you’re supposed to be doing some extra research but all you can focus on is the bulge in his pants. 

This happens a lot, you guys get heated and Miguel stops everything. It’s been six months and you’ve never seen him cum. You’ve told him you love him, he’s made you cum with his fingers and his mouth but you’ve never seen him cum. It doesn’t bother you too much, you just assumed he wasn’t a very sexual person, although you are and you love pleasuring your partner, you love him more. So you decided you could deal with it, but then you noticed that he would get hard, quite hard, and just not let you help him. You’ve offered many times and he always protests, saying “It’s fine, it’ll just go away.” 

Once he even went into your bathroom for it. He chose to get himself off instead of just letting you do it. You tried to ask Jess about it but she says that Miguel doesn't talk about that stuff, all she knows is that he’s definitely not a virgin. So your last option to understand is to just ask him. So you do. 

“Miggy?” His head comes up from his book to look over at you, peeking over his glasses like a librarian, making you chuckle. “Um… You- You’re—” You start the sentence but soon realize how awkward this conversation could be. You try and figure out ways to piece it together as Miguel sits up straight, closes his book, and takes his glasses off, giving you his full attention. Now that he’s straightened himself out he’s looming over you a bit, making you even more nervous. 

“You’re still… hard..?” It comes out as a question more than a statement and mumbles more than words but he understands you. He clears his throat awkwardly as you slowly close your laptop and cast it aside. “Y-yes, I am.” He’s looking around the room now, his eyes avoiding yours. 

“Okay. So do you not like handjobs or something? I just- I know that you’ve gotten something before I just don’t- I don’t know why you won’t let me.” You’re looking at him as you speak, he’s looking at the duvet, and from the corner of your eye, you swear you see his dick jump in his pants. 

“Cariño… I-” He takes a deep, slightly frustrated breath and looks up at the ceiling, trying to figure out how to explain himself. “I want to… Tan jodidamente mala but… you’re different.”

(“... So fucking bad but…”)

Insecurity spreads through your body at his words. Your mind is already racing, trying to decipher what he could mean.   

What the fuck? How am I different? Oh god, is he not even attracted to me sexually? Maybe I’m not his type. Is there something I’m missing? Maybe it’s something that he’s into, maybe I just need to get into whatever that is? Unless it really is just me that’s the problem…

“I love you so much…” The words instantly relax you. You believe him when he says it, but his tone implies that it’s a bad thing. “I’ve never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. So-” He sighs again and runs his fingers through his hair. “So I’m- I’m more sensitive… when- when it comes to you.”

Arousal pools at the bottom of your stomach as you process his words. ‘More sensitive’

The thought that he hasn’t wanted you to touch him because it would feel too good has you leaking between your legs. 

He’s silent as you process, he’s waiting for you to laugh. But when he looks over at you you’re looking up at him with those eyes. The ones that always have him hardening in his pants before you have to say anything. The ones that he pictures on late nights when he can’t sleep. The ones that burn into his eyelids as your name falls from his lips and he cums all over his sheets… Those eyes. 

He huffs out a breath and shakes his head, denying you before you can even propose your suggestions. “No, cariño. I- It’s embarrassing.” He protests but his voice is getting breathy, arousal leaking its way in as he watches you seat yourself by his knees, facing him. Your hand is placed on his upper thigh which has begun to twitch under your touch. “We can’t, I can’t. Habría mucho también.”

“Mucho?” You question, only understanding some of what he said. “A lot, what?” You’re focused on his face, watching it contort as he whines at the Spanish that rolls off your tongue. Your hand has begun to massage his thigh, you can feel the fabric pull tighter with every pulse of his cock. Your hand slides up, closing in on where he wants you the most. His head falls back against the headrest as pleasure shoots through him. 

You can tell he’s being honest with his reasoning as you watch him. He’s letting out tiny moans, little whines like you’ve been teasing him all day but you’re just massaging his thigh. You keep it up, just groping his twitching leg as he tries to hold his moans in so he can answer you. “C-cum, habría tanto semen.” His hips start thrusting off the bed, barely noticeable.

(“C-cum. there would be so much cum.”)

“Yeah? You’d cum so much for me, Miggy?” You move from your spot, throwing your leg over him, straddling his thighs as you begin to palm his dick. His eyes roll back into his head as moans rip from his throat. He quickly grabs your wrist, roughly, stopping all your movements. His head raises to look at you. 

“I’m- I’m a bit… nervous, cariño. It would be a lot for me. I- No one has ever seen me like that. I’m only like this for you, I- can’t help it." His eyebrows furrow, and he huffs at a breath, like he's angry at himself. "I don’t want you to think it’s… extraño, anormal, or that I’m- I don’t know.” You can see the genuine concern on his face, and the fear in his voice as he anxiously rambles. 

("... strange, abnormal,")

“Miguel…” He whines at how you say his name, you smile brightly and fondly at the sound. “I love you. In a way I didn’t even know was possible. I’m never going to think you’re-  like, weird or something. At least not in a bad way. I-” You sigh gently and look into his eyes, you wrench your hand out of his grip and place it on his face, pulling him in for a soft kiss that he whimpers into. You pull away and give him the most serious look you can manage. “We don’t have to if you’re too nervous but if you’re worried about what I’ll think? Please don’t.”

He holds your gaze, considering your words for a moment. “But there’s mucho, cariño. No importa lo que yo haga. When- whenever I think of you, there’s… so much.” He tries to express his concern but you really don’t understand.

("No matter what I do.")

“Miguel.. That just- That just turns me on even more I- I don’t see why that’s a bad thing.” You speak honestly, watching his face shift into a mix of pleasure and confusion as his head falls back again. His hips press into the air, his legs spread, opening himself up for you as a pathetic “Por favor” falls from his lips. 

You spring into action immediately. You pull his pants low enough for his cock to fly out, instantly standing straight, hitting and staining his shirt. A hiss falls from his lips as you wrap your hand around him, and his head comes up to watch you. His eyes are watery as they stare at your little hand around his huge cock. You’re watching him, you don’t move yet, you can see him taking in every detail, committing the scene to memory before meeting your eyes. 

“Ready?” You ask him with a devious smile on your face. He nods vigorously, “Sí, estoy... estoy tan lista, cariño. Por favor.”

(“Yes, I'm... I'm so ready, honey. Please.”)

You run your hand up his cock, swirling around the head before meeting the base again. His reaction is instant and extreme. His hands leave your hips for the bed as his claws rip into the sheet. His body is already shaking as tense, short, and quick moans fall from his lips. All his muscles are pulled tight as you slowly run your hand over him. His eyes are wide, staring at your hands as they pleasure him. 

You’re mesmerized by his cock, red, hot, and pulsing in your hand as you stroke him. Pre-cum is spilling from his slit at a consistent pace, making him all wet and sloppy. You hear his head hit the headboard again as his moans grow more unrestrained, shouting out into the open air. “I- I-’m not- Can’t” He lets out a frustrated whine that morphs into a genuine moan before he tries to speak again. “No voy a durar. Joder, tus manos son el paraíso, cariño. No voy a durar mucho, no puedo-”

(“I’m not gonna last. Fuck, your hands are heaven, honey. I won't last long, I can't-”)

You can’t understand the words but based on how frantically he says them, the way his hips have started thrusting up into your hand gently and the way his legs are spreading themselves wider underneath you are good clues. “You’re gonna cum, Miggy?” You finally look away from his saturated cock to observe him. His face is flushed, as he nods at you desperately. He tries to moan your name at you but he can’t form the syllables. You love it. Seeing him like this, wet and aching for you. This is definitely going to become a daily thing. 

“Yeah? You promised me a lot, hermoso. I want it all. Give it to me, baby.” He fully shouts your name at the Spanish pet name. He grunts pathetically as he lifts his hand from the bed, willing his claws to retract so he can touch you. His hand squeezes your hip desperately, shaking as his moans quickly rise in pitch and volume. Your eyes are focused back on his erratically twitching cock, you don’t see his head lift to look at you.

He’s cumming the moment he can see your face. 

You stroke him as fast as you can, listening to his breathy sob as his cock shoots out heavy ropes of cum. He’s watching your face, trying to gauge your reaction through his cloudy eyes. You’re watching his cock in awe, his cum runs over your hand, coating your fist as you jerk him through it. He’s nothing but a bundle of gasps, moans, and sobs as his cock spurts out a whole new load. He watches your face as it morphs from disbelief to burning arousal, your breathing speeds up the longer he cums. He can hear whines start to slip out of you as his hips jerk into your hand. You tear your eyes away from the cum pooling around and coating his cock just in time to see his eyes shift from you to the back of his head. He lets out one last drawn-out wail before his hips rest back on the bed. His cock begins to soften, spurting out tiny ropes as you stroke him softly, helping him down. You try to get the raging fire in your stomach and the flood between your legs under control before getting up for a towel. He was right. There was so much.

You wipe him down as he whines and mumbles deliriously until you hear a little sob and he reaches out for you. You throw the towel to a corner of the room as he pulls you into his chest. He whispers what sounds like thanks and praise into your hair as you kiss his chest. 

“Gracias, cariño. Eso- eso se sintió tan bien, te sentiste tan bien. Te amo.” You giggle at him gently. “You’re welcome and I love you too, baby. You know I can’t understand most of what you said, right?” You feel his chest rumble with a chuckle before he speaks again. “I- I know, it's just… El inglés se me hace difícil. Yo olvido. I- I’m” He laughs at himself. “You get my head all mixed up, cariño.” 

(“Thank you love. That- that felt so good, you felt so good. I love you.”)

(“English is difficult for me. I forget”)

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Oh really?” You say in a playful tone as he chuckles at you. You turn and pull him in, his lips just inches from yours. “Me encanta eso.” You had to pull all your Spanish I classes together to figure that sentence out but the reward is worth it. Miguel’s eyes widen and he gasps before smashing his face into yours, you can feel his wide smile against your lips as he kisses you and you’ve never felt happier. 

(‘I love that.”)

thank you so much for reading!! please please please give any feedback you may have! I want it all! also if you liked it please take a look at my masterlist!

#miguel o’hara smut #miguel smut #miguel x reader #miguel spiderman #miguel o'hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #miguel ohara #miguel x you #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara spider man #spiderman 2099 x reader #spiderman 2099 miguel o'hara #2099 #sm 2099 #miguel 2099 #marvel 2099 #miguel o hara #astv miguel #miguel atsv #luvrxfics #luvrxsmut

[pellucid-constellations]

Are You Bored Yet?

Pairing: College!Bucky x Tutor!Reader

Summary: God, you hated Bucky. Bucky probably hated you, too. Maybe. It was hard to tell when he was drunk and calling you pretty at a party you shouldn't have gone to.

Word count: 8k

Warnings: Alcohol, annoyance to lovers, a bit of angst, a scary man in a parking lot, frat!bucky c:

a/n:​​​ I am so excited to finally post something!! It only took me four months 😅 If you enjoy it please please let me know ❤️❤️

Masterlist

~~

12:59 pm.

The birchwood table nestled in the back of the library was long but otherwise empty, the only thing occupying it being your laptop and quite a few books. He wasn’t late. Yet. You weren’t going to hold onto that hope, however.

Tutoring Bucky Barnes was not what you had in mind when you volunteered for the peer assistance program at your university. It was true you were only using the club to boost your resume, but you had assumed the only people reaching out for help would be those that actually wanted it. Unfortunately, that was not the case. 

Sure, Bucky wanted help. Just not with anything that actually warranted the word. He wanted help sweet talking the cops so they wouldn't shut down his parties. He wanted help recruiting girls to show up to his parties. And—the one thing you could actually do—he wanted help passing his classes with the minimum GPA required to not get kicked out of his frat. So he could continue to throw parties. 

Everything in his life revolved around his fraternity, which made you very important to him. When he wanted you to be. 

With your apparently astounding knowledge of biology (you took notes during lectures), you became the star in Bucky’s life every Monday and Wednesday from 1:00 pm (give or take ten minutes) to 2:00 pm. He was also very attentive during the thirty minute phone calls he initiated prior to tests, and always looked happy to see you when he passed you devouring a bagel at the crack of dawn in the dining hall. 

Every situation in which you had come in contact with Bucky was isolated and purposeful (minus the bagel). You didn’t hang out or invite each other places, and you were almost positive that if you were to see him in his natural habitat, you would want to tutor him even less than you did now, and that was saying something. So you were important to Bucky during the times you were supposed to be important, and he was important to you in the sense that he was a job. 

But as your laptop blinked the numbers 1:22 pm back at your unimpressed expression, Bucky became much less important today. You took in a long, tortured breath before sending your gaze up to the ceiling, giving it another three minutes before you truly gave up on him for the day. 

One minute. 

Two minutes. 

The library really needed new ceiling tiles. 

1:25 pm and you snapped your laptop shut. Your fingers itched to send yet another complaint about this whole ordeal Natasha’s way, but you stopped yourself. She had already heard plenty about Barnes at this point, plus she always gave you a weird look every time you came stomping into the apartment, grumbling about something else he had done. 

You hated her weird looks, all raised eyebrows and stiff lips.

With your backpack heaved onto the table and your things slowly funneling in, you figured a nap was the best reward for sitting in the library for an unnecessary twenty-five minutes. Your last prickle of irritation was stifled at the prospect of a warm bed as you stood, only to find that irritation had returned to you tenfold. In the form of Bucky Barnes. 

“You going somewhere?” he seemed to taunt, his bag slung casually over one shoulder. 

Your jaw ticked. “Home.” 

His mouth turned up at one side, an expression you had learned meant he found you amusing. He never seemed to outright laugh at your annoyance, but apparently, it was hard to tamp down all of the joy he got out of it. Bucky took two long strides to meet the table you were attempting to abandon. 

“But I still got about—” he checked his watch “—thirty-three minutes? And an arsenal of questions about amino acids. Help a guy out.” 

“And I still got—” you checked the nonexistent watch on your wrist “—no patience for this today. You’re over twenty minutes late, Barnes. Use that watch to set an alarm on Wednesday and I’ll tell you everything you’ll inevitably forget about amino acids then.” 

He groaned, rounding the table to set firm hands on your shoulders as he hovered behind you. “Sit. I’ll buy you a coffee and I promise I won’t be late on Wednesday, okay? I was dealing with something before this and lost track of time.” 

“Were you dealing with another sorority girl in your bed? Who was it last week? Amber? No, Michelle?” 

“It’s a Monday, y/n. Cut me some slack.” 

“You came to me on a Wednesday with a hangover,” you deadpanned.

Bucky grimaced, the expression visible to you as he managed to guide you back into your chair. “Oat milk, right? A double?” 

You grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as he tossed his bag by your feet and jogged over to the coffee cart just outside the library. He fumbled with his wallet when he went to pay, and you watched him point to the carton of oat milk the barista had yet to reach for. His greek letters were printed on the gray hoodie he had haphazardly thrown over his shoulders, and you held the reprimand on your tongue when you saw the matching sweatpants he donned. 

The last time he had shown up in his pajamas—late—you’d had some choice words for him. Bucky turned around with your coffee then, poking the straw through the lid and sending you a sheepish smile through the window. 

He was lucky you accepted bribes. 

~~

“Please,” the boy across from you continued to beg, a pen held loosely between pliant fingers. “Just ask her, that’s all I want. You can even come too.” 

“Oh, wow, the great frat president letting me come to his stupid toga party? How could I ever thank you enough?” 

It was Wednesday now, and Bucky was surprisingly on time to the tutoring session. You’d gotten through about half of the last bio lecture before he started asking you ridiculous questions that had nothing to do with the content. Today, he was dead set on getting your lab partner from chemistry to go to his party this weekend. 

“Okay, yeah, you could come to whatever party you want, you know? I put you on the list—but this one will be even better if you’d just do this one thing for me.” 

You finally tore your eyes from your laptop, glancing lazily at him. “And what would make this one so—wait, what list?” 

He waved you off. “The one at the door. Did it like… the second week we started this? Anyways, Wanda?” 

You let this new information settle and tried to ignore whatever implications came with being on some frat list thanks to Bucky. He had never explicitly invited you to any of his parties over the past few months and you had never asked to come. Apparently, you could have shown up whenever you wanted to and had a grand old time. 

Not that that sounded the least bit grand. 

Bucky was looking at you still, all pleading features and a soft, infuriating smile on his lips. When he wasn’t talking to random girls in the library or taking annoying phone calls in the middle of your sessions, he was sort of endearing. In a terrible, awful sense. 

You groaned, throwing yourself back against your chair in begrudging defeat. “I don’t even talk to her outside of chem. Don’t you think it’d be a little weird to invite her to a party that I’m not even going to?” 

“So come,” he answered simply, as if that was in the realm of possibilities. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed. “Sure, I’ll come to your party, Barnes.” 

“Great,” he grinned. “Vision’s gonna be so hyped.” 

You watched as he pulled his phone from his pocket and kept your lie to yourself. He wouldn’t notice that you didn’t show up on Friday, and likely wouldn’t even bring it up the following Monday. He always had such vibrant, headache-inducing stories that you were sure your absence would be nothing more than a fleeting footnote. 

“You have a toga, right?” he mumbled, face still screwed up in concentration as he continued his text. 

“Isn’t it just a sheet all twisted up?” you asked, shutting your computer. Tutoring was obviously over. 

Bucky pocketed his phone again, brows raised in amusement. “Depends on your motives for the night.” 

“And my motives wouldn’t be to… wear a toga?” 

He chuckled and huffed out your name, resting an arm along the back of the chair to his right—your chair. “Other motives. Like if you’re trying to get someone’s attention.” 

You blinked at the warmth along your back. “Oh, of course. Then I would twist up a pillowcase instead, right?”

“Something like that.” 

He smelled like coconut. Like a day at the beach but afterwards, when the sunscreen still lingered in the air but fresh clothes covered skin that had been warmed by the sun. You could usually ignore whatever expensive combination he had on his skin, but when he got close like this it was almost impossible. 

Part of you always wanted to chuck his arm away when he leaned over you, but another part of you liked that he kept it there. It was a strange part of you, the same one that relished the looks you got from sorority girls in the library and harbored a sense of pride each time he made a blatant attempt to touch you. 

You had spent fleeting moments analyzing these emotions and chalked them up to some internalized desire for validation. Nothing else. Bucky was a hot guy and everyone knew that, so having his attention—in any capacity—felt nice. Sometimes. Meaning right now it was nice that he was looking at you with his arm practically glued to your back, but next week when he showed up late with a hangover and tried to steal the jacket off your body it would be not so nice. 

The duality of man. 

It helped your partial insanity that Bucky would never actually be interested in you. You weren’t in a sorority or interested to his parent’s money, and, worst of all, you didn’t know how to maneuver a sheet into a toga. When he put his arm around you or moved your hair from your eyes as you leaned over a book, it was probably out of habit. It felt nice, but you knew reality. This was a passing phase, and by the summer you wouldn’t even speak to him anymore.

“I’ll text you more info about everything,” Bucky called, pulling you from your thoughts. “You can come early and I’ll help you with that pillowcase.” 

You froze, the book you were shoving into your bag pausing in your hands. “Uh, maybe.” 

“No, seriously, it’d be better if you came early. I was kidding about the pillowcase but if you come on time it’ll be too crazy for me to show you around.” 

“You don’t have to show me around, Bucky. I’ve been to a house party before.” 

“Y/n, are you not coming to this thing?” Bucky accused, swiping the book from your hands and softly tossing it on the table. It still made a loud thud that had a few bitter looks thrown your way. 

“Dude!” you whispered, meeting each mean gaze with your apologetic one. “Why does it matter if I come? You just wanted Wanda anyway.” 

He knocked your hand away when you went to reach for the book again, encircling your wrist with his fingers. “You just lied to me. Straight to my face. You said you’d come and now you gotta.” 

You gave his fingers an experimental tug, but he was unrelenting in his soft grip. You glared at him through your lashes, meeting his uncharacteristically stern gaze that contrasted the humor on his lips. 

“You ever hear of sarcasm?” you whispered with a half-hearted bite. 

“Unfortunately, that’s about all I hear outta you,” he smirked back. 

You rolled your eyes, finally yanking hard enough to free yourself from him. “Then you should have known I wasn’t going to come. No matter what ‘list’ you put me on.” 

“What else could you possibly have going on on a Friday night?” 

Ouch. You felt your brows furrow even though you didn’t will them to, and even worse, you felt a rash defensiveness lodge itself in your throat. You hated the heat that now prickled along the skin of your neck, and you hated even more how it extinguished all of the good warmth you had felt from him earlier. 

This was humiliation, surely—the kind that only came from feeling small. 

“You don’t have to be a dick,” you seethed, snapping up the remainder of your belongings. “Just because I don’t want to go to your stupid frat doesn't mean I have nothing to do. I don’t spend all of my time hoping to get invited to ridiculous parties.” 

Bucky shifted up in his seat, eyes blown just a fraction wider. “Whoa, I didn’t mean—hey, stop a sec, I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“Whatever, Bucky,” you droned, as a new temperature seeped into the skin of your palms and made them clammy. Any semblance of delusion you’d fallen into earlier was long gone now, but you knew to expect that. He wasn’t interested in you and you weren’t interested in him. But embarrassment wasn’t a good feeling, regardless of a multitude of reality checks. 

Bucky got up when you did, his clothes looking creased and lived in. “We still have time in our session,” he defended, arm jutting out to the table. “C’mon, I didn’t mean you don’t have friends.” 

Your glare sharpened. “Great, another insinuation.” 

Bucky sputtered out incoherent words as you continued your trek outside, resorting to grabbing your wrist again, this time with more urgency. You felt the heat in you simmer down to a dull throb as he made contact, mostly out of respect for your future self. If you made this a huge deal it would only embarrass you more. 

“Look, it doesn’t even matter, okay?” you huffed, but he just tugged you forward. It was then that you realized you were in the doorway of the library, effectively blocking it off from anyone trying to leave. Bucky pulled you close enough to his chest that you weren’t in the way anymore. His cologne was back with a vengeance, your nose just inches from his collar.  

You took a steadying breath, blinking away the remnants of shame. “It doesn’t matter, I overreacted.” 

He clicked his tongue. “I’m still apologizing. I didn’t mean any of that stuff you were talking about.” 

Of course he did. You were sure he thought it all the time. He just didn’t mean to say it out loud. 

“It’s fine,” you rushed. “I have to go, anyway. Office hours.” 

“Okay,” he nodded, soft and low, like he just remembered he was in a library. “You’ll still come this weekend, right? Even if Wanda can’t?” 

“You have some kind of girl quota you need to meet?” you pressed.

Bucky smiled, still so close to you that you could feel the small breath that accompanied the expression. “And she’s back.” 

You left without promising anything, and Bucky left feeling like you had. 

~~

Sometime between Wednesday and Friday, your detestment for frat parties had snowballed into determination. You were going to go and you were going to look like you were having so much fun it was ridiculous. Then, on Monday, when Bucky would usually poke and prod about what you’d gotten up to over the past few days, you were going to pretend that it was nothing for you. That you did that every weekend. 

Of course, you didn’t. Your weekends typically consisted of calm nights with friends or dinners near campus. You’d been to a party before, sure, but you didn’t exactly frequent those kinds of scenes. 

Bucky had continued to make it clear that you were invited. He had texted you a few times, prompting you to come and thanking you for getting Wanda to agree. The messages looked strange under the plethora of biology related questions, but that just spurred you further into action. You weren’t just a tutor with no social life, and Bucky was going to see that tonight. You couldn’t remember doing something out of pure spite before, but you figured having fun to prove a point wasn’t the worst thing. 

Wanda pulled you out of your thoughts as the Uber rounded the last dark corner and revealed an overcrowded house with too many lights on. She rambled on about some guy she couldn’t wait to see and confirmed that she would likely be spending the night. You expected as much; it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her to come. If this night resulted in anything good it was apparently the blossoming relationship between your new friend and a man you’d never met. 

Wanda continued to chat as she yanked you out of the car and past the yard littered with sparse grass. The music was loud already—the type of loud that you needed to be at least a little drunk to enjoy. And that was the plan. 

“Okay, if I start dancing on a table you pull me down. And if you start dancing on a table I support you, right?” Wanda giggled, her voice now raised as you walked past the threshold of the house. 

“Exactly,” you yelled back. A guy nodded to you as he leaned against the front door, his eyes glancing up from his phone and then returning. It seemed Bucky’s ‘list’ was a page on some guy’s notes app. How luxurious. “Let’s drink.” 

The next hour was a blur. You tried your hardest to get as drunk as possible and Wanda tried her hardest to find the British man she was enamored with. You hadn’t seen Bucky, but you figured he wasn’t looking for you too hard since you hadn’t responded to any of his texts. Not out of anger, but because you didn’t know what to say. Somehow, with alcohol warming your blood and music vibrating your skin, none of that mattered anymore. 

You: Your house is soooo dirty

Your phone jostled in your grip, people bumping into you from every side. When he didn’t answer in the thirty seconds you spent staring at the screen, you locked it and continued on with your mission. 

After a few too many shots of hard liquor, you switched to beer. Gross, but decidedly less likely to make you pass out on the staircase of this house. Because you weren’t lying in your text—it was slightly disgusting. You figured you should clarify that with Bucky. You reached for your phone once again, knocking your head against the wall in the process and giggling to yourself. You had no idea where Wanda went. 

The device was snatched from your hands just as quickly as the screen had lit up your face. 

“You ever answer this thing?” an accusing voice called out. “Or do you just insult people and put it on do not disturb?” 

The look on Bucky’s face would have made you roll your eyes in any other circumstance. Right now, however, it had a startled laugh bursting past your lips. You clutched at your stomach as the laugh grew and you found yourself tipping forward until your forehead met his chest. You felt delirious, almost silly. A hand came around to rest on the back of your neck.

“Alright, alright.” Bucky’s words rumbled against your face. “I get it, this is hilarious.” 

“Your… your face,” you breathed out, catching your breath enough to part from him. “It was all—” you mimicked the straight line of his eyebrows, voice raising in a mocking tone. “—You don’t ever answer your phone. You’re so boring, y/n, answer your phone.” 

“I didn’t call you boring. Hey—hey,” Bucky stressed, reaching for you as you leaned too far to the side, a smile still lingering on your face. “Jesus, y/n, how much did you have to drink?” 

You went to mock him again, but his fingers on your jaw stopped you. He tilted your head up and to the left, and although he was much more composed than you were, you could still smell the alcohol on his breath. You scrunched up your nose as he continued his inspection. 

“Why’re you being so uptight?” you slurred, trying and failing to push away from him. “I thought you were all like, ‘I’m Bucky and I party and get drunk and have sex with girls.’”

Bucky pulled you forward as you laughed at your impression of him, his shaking head making you blink away a bout of dizziness. You toppled over a set of stairs as he threaded his fingers through yours, and then you stumbled through a doorway and onto carpeted floors. Being pressed into an uncomfortable chair was the most jarring action, the world still spinning as you sat. 

“You’re even more mean when you're drunk,” you heard Bucky mumble. You couldn’t quite catch him as he moved around whatever room you were in. “And I don’t talk like that.” 

You let out a careless sigh and leaned back. “You soooo talk like that.” 

Something cold pressed to your hand, followed by another touch to the back of your neck. You gazed down at the water bottle being guided up to your lips and couldn’t find it in you to fight against it, despite the small spark of defiance on the tip of your tongue. After about four large swallows, Bucky was satisfied. 

He asked again how much you’d had to drink. 

You answered that you didn’t know—that it didn’t matter because he wasn’t your dad and you were having fun like you always did. He bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t say anything for the next few moments. 

And then, “Thought you weren’t gonna come tonight.” 

You hummed, rolling your head against the chair to look up at his standing form. “Of course I was going to come. I love parties. Love drinking alcohol.” 

His expression twisted into something you couldn’t recognize. “God, you’re so drunk.” 

“M’not even that drunk!” 

“You’re willingly in my room right now. You’re plastered.” 

“Maybe I want to be in your room.” 

“We both know that’s not true.” 

You chuckled breathily, closing your eyes so you wouldn’t have to see the pretty flush of Bucky’s face. “You think you know everything, don’t you? Don’t know much about me though. Or biology.” 

Bucky kneeled down to the height of the chair. “And what do I not know about you?” 

“So much.” 

“How much?” 

You bit into your lip and cracked an eye open, catching the amusement that had slipped past the strange mask of his emotions. With blissful ignorance, you heaved yourself forward on the chair, your nose a few inches from Bucky’s. His eyes didn’t waver from yours as you swayed. 

“You don’t know that I’m the most interesting person on Earth,” you boasted, fingers gripping the upholstery of your seat. 

“That right?” Bucky probed, his voice a melodic hum. 

“Yup, I’m always really busy and even though you think I’m some boring biology tutor I’m actually super cool and, like, go to raves and stuff.” 

His brow twitched but his mouth stayed soft. “I’ve never said you were boring. And I don’t think you’ve ever been to a rave.” 

You groaned loudly and flopped against the backrest of the chair. “See! I’m telling you I do all this cool stuff and I’m so drunk my fingers are buzzing and you still don’t believe me.” 

You crossed your arms with a huff, a small pout forming on your lips. In any other context, this behavior would probably embarrass you to no end. In the dim light of Bucky’s room where you felt the feeling leave your fingers and the care leave your mind, you were just disgruntled, not embarrassed. If you remembered this tomorrow the latter would surely catch up to you.

Bucky stared at you from his spot on the ground, his gaze a bit foggy and unfocused. He was clearly intoxicated, as you deduced earlier, and it made him look more wild. Mused hair and pink cheeks, he looked like he’d been having plenty of fun before he found you. It was distracting. He was distracting you from proving that you were having a blast.

“What?” you snapped, the tone a testament to the drunken fit you were throwing. 

“You’re so fucking pretty.” 

He must be really, really drunk. Despite your clouded mind, you knew that, but the words affected you just the same. Your lips parted as a new lightness both lit up and compressed your chest, and Bucky watched the movement. 

“Yeah,” you scoffed, but it was hardly a scoff. “Sure, Bucky. How much did you have to drink—” 

“I’m not lying. I’ve thought about you in my room for weeks and now you’re here and you’re so pretty. Even when you’re yelling at me.” 

“You’ve… thought about me in your room?” 

Bucky shuffled forward and you subconsciously parted your legs to allow the space for him. “I think about you everywhere.” 

This was crazy. It was certifiably insane. A voice in the back of your head—Natasha’s voice, it sounded like—was screaming at you to stop and think about the situation at hand. He was drunk, you were even more drunk, and he was far too close to you. He had ushered you in here with good intentions and had sobered you up a fraction, but things had taken a turn and this was a sensitive situation. The kind of sensitive that altered your reality and his and probably a bunch of other people’s you’d never met. 

Or it could be nothing and you were over exaggerating. 

But then Bucky’s hand was warming your thigh. You’d felt the press of it on your back and your shoulder and your head before, but it had never been on your thigh. It felt heavy there, hot. His other hand moved to touch your face and he propped himself up on one knee. His thumb brushed your cheek. Words tumbled from your mouth before you registered that you were speaking. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” 

Why would you ask that? Who asks Bucky Barnes if he’s going to kiss them? 

“Would you let me?” he responds. 

“Yes.” 

He didn’t waste any time, his mouth hot against yours. He tasted like mint and vodka and his lips moved so slowly it ached. You had expected a fervor behind his lips, but instead you got a build up, an orchestra reaching its crescendo. He was kissing you like you were important, like this wasn’t some random hookup in his bedroom at 1 o’clock in the morning, and you had to catch your breath when he parted from you. 

But he moved back in so quickly after your brief respite, and you were eager to give him more. This was crazy, insane. This was the best kiss you’d ever have and also the worst. This was months of staring at his stupid lips when he tried explaining concepts back to you, but this was also weeks of feeling small in his presence. Bucky slid his hand back to press against your hair and you didn’t feel small anymore. 

A loud thud from the hallway interrupted the silence you’d created, and Bucky pulled back, keeping his hands on you as he craned his neck around to stare at the door. He waited a beat, and then two, and then he turned back to you. The moment was gone, but he was still touching you. You weren’t sure what you wanted—if you wanted him to kiss you again or run out the door—but when he slid his hands from your body and rubbed them down his jeans, it became clear that was not what you wanted. 

A knot formed in your stomach when he met your gaze again, and you tried blinking the feeling away. It didn’t work. 

“Um,” Bucky began, his voice sounding more clear, his tone not holding the weight it had.

Your plan had backfired. Severely. This was a mess and you needed to save yourself before you ended this night even more humiliated.

You were still drunk. Pretend you were still plastered. 

You giggled airily, the sound burning your throat. “That was loud.” 

Bucky blinked at you in what you assumed was disbelief. “Probably just someone trying to find the bathroom,” he clarified.

You shrugged, nudging him back with your knee as you stood from the chair. “I’m bored now.” You took fast steps to the door, your words foreign to you. “Thanks for the water,” you all but gritted out. 

You expected him to get up. Not to run after you or proclaim his love or even say anything. But you expected him to get up. 

He didn’t, and you couldn’t understand how the knot in your stomach had moved to your throat. Or how it made tears spring to your eyes when your feet hit the sidewalk outside. Your Uber came and you couldn’t understand how you felt hot and cold at the same time. How it was freezing outside but you were sweating. 

You couldn’t understand why you were crying over a boy that so often infuriated you, or why he kissed you in his bedroom. The reasonable side of you sent gentle reminders that he was in a frat and kissing people is just what he did. All the time. But the unreasonable side of you won out tonight, and it was telling you that this felt different.

That you should be different, somehow.

~~

Bucky: You’re here???

Bucky: Where are you?

Bucky: Y/n answer your damn phone

Bucky: This place is fucking packed tonight I thought you weren’t coming 

You stared at the text messages you hadn’t read last night, the bright light of your phone burning into your retinas. You had a brutal hangover, and the memory of the disaster in Bucky’s room felt like an even bigger one. 

You’d gone through a myriad of emotions the night before, tossing around excuses and speeches in your head until you were so exhausted you let the alcohol in your system lull you to sleep. With all of that delirious thinking, you’d landed on blacking out. You were going to tell Bucky you blacked out last night and couldn’t remember a thing. He obviously wouldn’t care and would probably appreciate it. 

Saturday was slow-moving. Reruns of television shows and bags of popcorn and overthinking. Natasha was at her parent’s house in the city, so you had no one to bounce your racing thoughts off of. You certainly weren’t going to text her about it. 

When the evening finally rolled around and your attempts at distracting yourself with mind-numbing movies failed, you checked your email. You always tried not to on the weekends, but doing anything else sounded much less appealing. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t get past the first one. 

From: University Peer Assistance Program 

Dear Y/n Y/l/n, 

This is an automated message from the campus peer assistance program. We thank you for your continued devotion to the betterment of students at this school. At this time, your tutoring placement with James Barnes has ended. We will search for a new placement to fill your current hours. 

Thank you, 

University Peer Assistance 

You blinked at the email, then blinked again. The breath left your chest and the muscles on your face twitched, but you were otherwise frozen.

This was what you wanted, wasn’t it? To be free from the haughty frat boy that didn’t even listen to you when you tried to help him raise his grades. You wanted someone nice, someone that had the same goals as you and appreciated the color-coded notes you took for them. Bucky only tried to get a rise out of you. He sat too close and made fun of you and put you on lists you didn’t ask to be on. 

But he had kissed you. He had kissed you and then tutor-dumped you. 

You knew you weren’t his type, but were you really that bad? Was the kiss so terrible? 

Every inferiority complex you had developed exploded. You over-analyzed things that had already happened, things you had said. Not just at the party, but in the library, the coffee shops, the lecture halls. 

Was he really willing to risk his position in the frat just to avoid you? 

The strangle tickle of tears itched to be released from your eyes again, but you pressed it down. No, this wasn’t on you. He had kissed you. He had dragged you into his room and stumbled on pretty words. If he didn’t want you to tutor him anymore because of his stupid mistake, fine. 

His mistake. 

That word felt wrong. 

You tossed your phone on the couch with vigor. The clock above the television read out 10 pm, but that meant little to you as you slid on your shoes at the front door. You were wearing sweatpants and a jacket that was far too big on you, sadness and frustration and raw confusion propelling you down your apartment stairs. 

Ice cream would fix this. 

The only place open at this time was the gas station at the edge of campus. It wasn’t university affiliated and was usually overrun with belligerent greek life trying to buy alcohol, but the decision-making part of your brain was currently shut off. 

Ice cream, anger, probably watching tiktoks until your eyes were too heavy to keep open—those were the only things rattling in your head. 

You yanked open the gas station door after your short walk, the glass smudged and fogged from the cold night. The fluorescent lights aggravated the headache you’d been sporting all day and the floor made sticking noises with each step you took. To add insult to injury, there were only three cartons of ice cream left, and they weren’t even the good flavors. Grabbing the least offensive one, you made your way to the small line of people by the register. 

“Nice outfit.” 

Too enthralled by the disappointing ingredient list on the side of your ice cream, you had missed the tall man now looming at your shoulder. You whipped your head around with a start, taking a step back, smelling menthol and asphalt and nothing good. 

“Thanks,” you quietly replied. 

He waited until you turned back around to continue. “You go to school over here?” 

You kept your gaze forward. “Um, yeah.” 

“Nice. I graduated a few years back. Marketing.” 

“Cool,” you replied. What had compelled you to leave your phone on the couch? This night sucked. 

You found reprieve in the line moving, the employee calling you over to check out. As soon as you paid—a few dollar bills funneled out of your pocket with shaky hands—you booked it. Your ice cream burned in your palm but you didn’t care, feet carrying you out the door and into the dimly lit parking lot. You fisted your keys in your fingers; pointless, you knew, but a small comfort. 

The man’s voice returned with the chime of the bell over the gas station door. “Wait! Wait, I’m Beck. I own a business nearby.” 

You should have kept walking, but one of your fatal flaws was, apparently, people pleasing. You turned to him. He smiled at you but it made your stomach twist. 

“Oh, nice,” you responded, rocking back on your heels. 

“We should connect. Maybe go for coffee or something?” He took a step forward. You fought the urge to take one back. His beard was unkempt and he held a six pack in his white-knuckled grip. 

“Um, I don’t know. I’m pretty busy with finals coming up. Plus, I’m not really in the business field.” 

“Not for business then,” he smiled again, teeth dull in the streetlight. 

Just agree. If you agreed you could block him soon after and everything would be fine. 

You took too long to answer. He took the final step forward to arrive in your space and wrapped his fingers around your bicep. “C’mon, I’m not asking you to marry me or anything.” 

Frozen by fear, you let out a weak laugh. The pint in your hand was sticking to your skin now in a way that would be painful when you tried to let go of it later. Your breath rattled in your chest when you laughed again. 

“Sure, okay.” But he didn’t let go of your arm, instead sliding it down to the bone of your wrist. 

“What about now?” he posed. “You don’t look too busy. I can make you something at my place.” 

He was at least ten years older than you. You attempted to pull yourself from his grasp to no avail. Maybe reasoning would work. 

“My roommate's waiting for me,” you lied. “Could you let go? I sprained my wrist at the gym last week,” you lied again. 

He refused with a shake of his head. You took a panicked glance inside the gas station to your right. No one was looking. 

“Please let go of me.” 

The call of your name from the other side of the parking lot initially sent more unbearable fear down your spine. But then the owner of that voice registered in your brain, and although it had been the cause of your recent internal strife, you couldn't be more grateful to hear it. 

He said your name again, closer now and questioning. Bucky jogged up to the pair of you, saw your wrist and the man holding it hostage, and looked back up at you with confused, wild eyes. 

“You know this guy?” he asked, jutting his thumb out at Beck.

“No,” you whispered. The word was short but the syllable still trembled. 

Bucky didn’t look confused anymore. He looked pissed. “Wanna take your fucking hands off her?”

Beck was tall, but Bucky was taller. And angry. Beck released your wrist and raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Whoa, man, no need for the theatrics. I’m guessing you’re here to stock up for a party? I used to be in Sigma Nu.” 

When Bucky’s silent glare failed to dampen, Beck continued with, “We were just planning a night at my place, right?” 

His nod in your direction made your breath catch. Bucky took his piercing gaze off of Beck and softened it as it fell on you. You wanted to respond, but words were gone. They were impossible. Your ice cream was melting. 

“Yeah, I think we’re done here,” Bucky scoffed, placing his arm around your shoulder. He guided you past the wall of a man, making sure to drive his shoulder into his chest as he went. Beck went to say more, to protest or whine, but Bucky shot him such a scathing look it almost made you wither. 

The smell of coconut and spices and a hint of whisky met your nose, and it was familiar. It was safe. You fumbled with the keys in your hands as your feet guided you wherever Bucky was going, and then you fumbled even more, soft jingling disrupting the softness of footfall. God, why wouldn’t you stop shaking? 

A hand fell atop yours, crunching the keys to a halt. You stared down at them, unsteady breath hitting the tanned fingers that served as your current anchor. 

“Look at me, y/n.” 

You couldn’t. You couldn’t do anything. 

“Sweetheart, eyes up. All you gotta do.” Bucky’s voice was as soft as it was last night. That was the only reason you were able to follow his request. “There she is,” he hummed. 

He removed his arm from your shoulders and shifted in front of you, placing his hand on your cheek. You ignored that it felt the same as it had last night. You ignored that you wanted it to feel the same for him, too. 

“You okay?” he asked, tilting his neck down to better see your face. His thumb brushed under your eye. “He hurt you?” 

You shook your head, whispering no, whispering that you were fine. 

Bucky nodded to himself, eyes tracking down to your toes and then back up again. He must have mistaken your shaking for coldness because the next thing he did was guide you into the car behind him. You didn’t know it was his.

He blasted the heat the second he got in. He had shuffled you into your seat with his hands before that, smoothed your hair down and closed the door after you were settled and not shaking as hard. The heat dried out your eyes. It distracted you enough to let words form. 

“Thank you,” you said. “He wouldn’t leave me alone. I didn’t bring my phone with me. I should’ve.” 

“Of course.” 

There was a beat of silence. The relief you had felt earlier had been muddled down to an awkward pit in your stomach, and you weren’t sure if Bucky felt it too or if he was still riding a testosterone-fueled adrenaline high. 

You wanted to go home now; this was uncomfortable and you had felt Bucky’s lips on yours less than twenty-four hours ago with no closure. He obviously didn’t want to be around you. This was probably a responsibility thing for him. 

“I can… I can walk home now. The guy left. I’m just a quarter mile away and you probably have to stock up or whatever.” 

He looked at you with a pinched expression. “I’m not letting you walk home after that. You kiddin’ me?” 

“I’ll be fine, really. I walk over here all the time.” 

“You get harassed all the time too?” 

“No…” 

“Exactly. So you’re not walking home.” 

“Bucky—” 

“Look I’m not gonna kiss you again, alright? So you don’t have to turn down a ride because of that.” 

Your ice cream was soup at this point. You let it roll into your lap as you clamped your mouth shut just to open it again. Bucky ran a rough hand through his hair before dropping it on the steering wheel, clutching at it with no place to go. 

“I’m not following,” you finally relented. 

A loud sigh released from his nose. “You don’t have to worry about me kissing you again. I just want to make sure you get home safe and then I’ll leave you alone.” 

“Worry about—you’re the one trying to avoid me,” you snapped, frozen fingers pointing to your chest. “You tutor-dumped me.”

“Tutor-dumped? How do you…” he trailed off. 

“I get an email when you make a change request, Bucky.” 

He stared at you for a moment, lips parted and unmoving. He clenched his jaw a moment later, a red tint adorning his cheeks. 

“Well, you—you—look, I know you don’t like me, y/n. You’ve made that clear,” he stuttered, words getting louder as he moved his hands around with each one. “But I like you. I like when you get mad at me and when you yell at me for not listening and when you get all embarrassed when I play with your hair. And I’ve been trying to get you to come to one of my parties since we started this whole thing, but every time I talk about them you seem to like me even less. 

“If I had known insulting you would get your attention, I woulda done that week one,” he exasperated. You sat up in your seat but he continued. “I didn’t mean any of that shit you thought I did. You’re not boring. And I didn’t mean to kiss you, but you looked—well, I already told you.” 

“So you don’t want me to be your tutor anymore because you like me?” You spoke slowly, each word careful. 

“No,” he sighed, frustrated. “I can’t be around you because I kissed you and you didn’t care. Because I’ll want to kiss you all the time and you didn’t even wanna kiss me once. I know we were drunk, I get that, but I’ve wanted that for a long time and I need to move on. It’s nothing against your… tutoring skills. If that’s what you’re worried about” 

“But you talk about hooking up with other girls all the time, Bucky. To me.” 

“You ever hear of lying?”

“Why would you—” 

“You really gonna make me live out all of my failures with you?” 

You’d read so many things wrong. Taken so many things the wrong way. You figured the email earlier was the final nail in the coffin, but this was something else entirely. This was Bucky, sitting next to you in his car looking distressed and frazzled with his hair six different directions, telling you that he’s been trying to get your attention since he met you. That you weren’t small or insignificant or boring. 

It was probably a terrible idea to follow through with your next thought. You’d probably get hurt in the long run. But you did it anyway. 

“I wanted you to kiss me.” Bucky’s head whipped towards you. You bit the inside of your cheek and said, “I want you to kiss me all the time.” 

He whispered your name. It sounded like the air had left every corner of his body. But he didn’t move, and you needed to rectify that. 

“You’re infuriating,” you began. Bucky cringed, but you needed to explain as he had. “You’re like the antithesis of everything I want out of college. You don’t care about classes. You’re always late. You talk too loud in the library.” 

You took a deep breath, fiddling with the loose thread of your pants. You couldn’t make eye contact with anything but the ground. 

“But then you know my coffee order when I’ve never told it to you. You save me from losers in parking lots and make sure I’m not drunk out of my mind at your obscene party. You make me feel… you make me feel stupid sometimes. And I thought it was because you’re everything I’m not, but I really think it’s because you’re everything I told myself I should stay away from. But I don’t want to.

“I wanted you to kiss me at that party and I want you to kiss me now.” 

“Then get over here. I’m not kissing you over some bullshit center console.” 

You twisted to follow his directions, gasping as his hands clasped around your waist to tug you into his lap. It wasn’t seamless—there was laughing and your head briefly connected with the roof of the car—but Bucky’s touch was everywhere, soothing the uncertainty and fear and slight headache. 

His forehead connected with yours when you felt secure in his arms. His fingers slid down from your waist over the material of your sweatpants and when he spoke next you felt the words on your own lips.

“You’re wearing sweatpants. You get so mad when I wear sweatpants.” 

You laughed. “I get mad because it usually means you just rolled out of bed, and you’re usually. late.” 

“I got a secret,” he whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “I’m never late. And I only wear those sweatpants around you. You get cute when you’re pissed at me.” 

“Well, I’m about to be really cute—”

He kissed you. You’d have plenty of time to argue later.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfiction #college!bucky #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes #college AU #frat!bucky #marvel imagine

[nadvs]

cam girl (part ten)

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

summary you work two jobs. by day, you’re a maid for the cameron household, where rafe degrades you any chance he can get. by night, you’re a cam girl, hiding your face so nobody can recognize you. when you discover your new subscriber, the filthy-mouthed man obsessively paying you to do everything he can think of, is rafe, you’re not sure what to do next.

» masterlist

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

Rafe is on your mind constantly. At this point, you’ve accepted it. There was something about the way he looked at you in his car last night. Possibly. Hopefully.

You stand in a quiet aisle, eyeing merchandise while you hold the charm on the necklace he gave you, the metal warm under your fingertips.

You’d never been in a sex shop before. The guys you hooked up with before Rafe were nowhere near as kinky as him and you bought all the stuff you needed to be a cam girl online.

But seeing all the possibilities makes your stomach twist with excitement. You want to try absolutely everything with Rafe.

You’ve been thinking about coming here throughout all your classes today with one thing in mind. Rafe loves to use toys on you, but you’ve never used anything on him.

With Rafe’s need for control, you assume he won’t be all that open to using a cock ring, but you want to do something special for him. Maybe you can introduce him to something for a change.

You find a vibrating ring that you know will fit him, then decide to send him a photo of the toys in the aisle behind you and text him: this is a great place to meet guys.

Before you’re even at the register, your phone buzzes.

Rafe: dont joke like that

Rafe: buying something for yourself princess?

He sends you $100.

You reply: something like that :)

You check out at the register and head home, already looking forward to tonight. Your phone buzzes again.

Rafe: when can i come over?

You smile at your phone.

You: what about our cam session?

You get a notification that he sent $1000. The alert makes you wonder if he thinks you’re just doing all this solely for the money and gifts.

You’d do it all for free.

Rafe: i won’t wait that long

Not just can’t. He won’t.

You reply: like 8ish?

Rafe: ok

It starts to rain close to 8 and when Rafe arrives at your place, his hair is wet and his face and jacket are peppered with raindrops.

“Is the valet not working today?” you joke, knowing full well he had to find street parking on your busy road.

He breathes a chuckle, stepping into your apartment with his usual ease. You’ve noticed that he walks into every room like he owns it.

Rafe shakes off his jacket and places it on the back of one of your kitchen table chairs while you grab a clean hand towel out of your hamper.

“Sorry this towel’s not a million thread count,” you tease, meeting him to dab the towel over his face.

His blue eyes search your face with a hint of something new. Confusion?

You realize you didn’t even think about it; you thoughtlessly started to dry him off. It was such a mechanical response. Your impulse is to take care of him, make him comfortable.

It’s official. This man is not just a fuck buddy to you anymore.

“What?” you ask, knowing you need to crack a joke to break the tension. “I’m just drying off my seat.”

“Oh, my God,” Rafe groans, trying to act annoyed, but you know he’s not. You laugh and lower the towel, squeezing the cotton in your hands.

“What’d you buy?” he asks, clearly eager.

“I’ll show you later. I wanna hear what you have planned,” you say. “You always have something planned.”

“You first,” he says.

“Rafe,” you whine, dropping the towel to rest your hands on his firm shoulders. “Can’t I surprise you for once? What do you want to do to me tonight?”

“I wanna see what you bought,” Rafe solidifies.

You suck your teeth in frustration, looking up at him with doe eyes.

“Please?” you breathe. “I’m always the one waiting. Why don’t you wait for once?”

Rafe’s jaw tightens and he shakes his head in disbelief like he can’t believe he’s giving in, but he gives in.

“You ever been tied up?” he finally asks, his voice so deep that it reverberates through you. The air is suddenly thick and any impression of humor that was floating between you has been dismissed by his words.

“Like… bondage?” you say in a short breath, mulling it over as blood rushes to your cheeks. “No. I haven’t.”

He closes the already minuscule distance between you, cradling your jaw in his cool hand.

“I want your hands tied up while I fuck you,” he says. Your mouth goes dry. Just when you think he can’t get any fucking hotter.

Rafe’s hand drops and you hear his belt unbuckling while his hot breath spreads across your cheek.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” he rasps. You’re reeling as you strip down to nothing but the necklace he gave you. You hear the clang of his belt buckle falling onto your kitchen table beside you.

Rafe’s hands drag over your hips, pinching down when he turns you to face the other way. He’s still in his boxers, his cock jabbing against your ass. His warm chest is pressed on your back, rising and falling.

“You’re always the one waiting?” he mutters. The belt buckle drags off the table top, and when you feel him roughly grab both your wrists and wrap the thick leather around them, the familiar need for him between your legs aches.

“You’re always waiting,” he repeats with a scoff. “I’m the one who’s always fucking waiting.”

You want to know what he means, but the belt is suddenly tight around your wrists, your chest jutting out. Rafe pushes you by the back of your neck so that your front is down on your table, your cheek flush against the hard plastic.

“Spread your legs,” he orders.

The muscles in your thighs are strained and your hips burn against the hard table from the way he has you bent over. He couldn’t even spare the few seconds to go to your bedroom.

You feel his tip press against you, making you wonder which hole he wants to fuck.

“Beg for it,” he orders. His fingers tighten around the back of your neck. Your arms are already burning from being bound like this.

“Please fuck me,” you moan, lips flanged from how hard your cheek is being pushed against the table.

“Say my fucking name,” he tells you.

“Please, Rafe,” you obey. He groans in response, hands settling on your hips.

He stretches your cunt out so fucking slowly that you want to scream. You push back against him, and you swear, he laughs at your desperation.

Rafe finally bottoms out in you, his hips against your ass. He puts his hand over your bound wrists, starting to drag out again.

“This pussy is fucking mine,” he says. As if you need the reminder. He owns you completely.

When he picks up the pace, driving into you, your breath hitches. With every thrust, your hips grind against the hard table, making you ache in pain.

“Ow,” you snip before you can stop yourself.

Rafe immediately pulls out of you, making you writhe in frustration.

“What hurts?”

“Nothing,” you lie, wanting him more than you want the pain to stop. “Keep going.”

“What hurts?” he repeats sternly.

“My hips,” you admit. “I’m fine, it’s just ‘cause of the table. Please just-”

“I’m not making you cry again,” he snaps. He cups a hand on your shoulder. “Go to your bed.”

“Rafe, it’s fine.” You feel oddly ashamed, like you’re not doing your job pleasing him how he wants you to.

“Go,” he mutters. His hand pulls you up and you have no choice but to let him push you into your bedroom.

Your wrists are still bound at your lower back when he bends you over your bed. You sink onto your stomach, feeling Rafe’s fingers spread you open before driving his cock into you again.

You squeeze your eyes shut as he relentlessly pounds in and out of you. Your arms strain against the constrictions of his belt, the sensations so fucking perfect.

“Shit, I’m…” he groans, and you know he’s close, so you try to tilt up your hips so he can get as deep as possible.

Rafe shakes through his orgasm and you think how you could never tire of this feeling, of being the one he finishes inside of and reaches this feeling with.

He’s panting when he pulls out of you. Your wrists burn against the belt as he loosens it. His hand smooths over your ass before he spanks you and collapses beside you.

“Show me what you bought,” he says. “It better make you cum.” You tilt your head to meet his gaze.

“Have an open mind, okay?”

“Damn, what the fuck is it?” Rafe asks with a curious laugh.

You’re sore as you get up on your knees and shift to grab the white ring you already took out of the packaging and placed in your nightstand.

When you settle back on the bed and hold it out in front of him, his brows furrow.

“Is that…?” He can’t finish the sentence, his tone apprehensive.

“It might feel really good,” you say with a small smile. “I got a vibrating one.”

Rafe sits up, glancing down at your purchase before looking up at you again.

“Come on,” you laugh. “You surprise me all the time. I can’t surprise you?”

He clears his throat.

“I don’t know,” he says simply, blinking fast. It sounds like a hard no.

“Oh,” you say. You’re shocked he’s not at least a little open to it, considering how kinky he is. “Okay. Sorry.”

You turn to put the toy away, but his next words stop you.

“Fuck,” he breathes out. “Fine.”

“Really?” you ask, meeting his eyes again.

“You just look so fucking sad,” he groans.

“You don’t have to do it.”

“Let’s just try it.” He pinches the bridge of his nose. “After everything I do to you…” You smile in response.

Rafe sits up against the head of your bed frame and you straddle him, dipping your head to kiss him. It’s strange how with him, making out feels more intimate than sex does. As good as the sex is, nothing gets your heart fluttering quite like when his lips are on yours.

Your hands settle on his shoulders and you tug at the ends of hair as you kiss him passionately.

Rafe smiles under the kiss, your lips molding together, his tongue tumbling with yours. You feel him getting hard again.

You pull back to slide the ring down his cock and he sighs in a way that tells you he can’t believe he’s actually doing this before he takes you in to kiss you again.

Rafe’s hands roll over your ass, squeezing and kneading as you sit on his naked lap. This is the longest you’ve ever kissed. It feels crazy to realize that, considering everything you’ve done together.

“Shit,” he shifts beneath you. His cock is growing, the ring starting to squeeze around him.

“How’s it feel?” you ask.

“Good,” he breathes, eyes low. It makes your heart swell with pride. “Ride me.”

You sink down on him slowly, feeling the ring against you once you’re fully seated. You find the button at the top of it to turn on the vibration.

You both exhale in pleasure at the same time. He skims his hands up to your waist, looking at you while you grind on top of him.

In the dim light of your quiet bedroom, the toy buzzing against your clit, how deep he is inside you, the way his eyes are locked on yours… it’s all so perfect. Everything with him is so fucking perfect that it can’t be true.

The fact that you ended up here all because of a part-time cleaning job and a cam website feels insane.

Your palm is against his hot chest. He looks down at it and his dimples dip into his cheeks as he smiles smugly.

“Your hands are so fucking cute,” he teases. The non-sexual compliment sends you into a tizzy.

“Yours are huge,” you retort, trying to keep cool.

“What else is huge?” he asks.

“Your ego.”

“Fuck off,” he laughs.

“Okay,” you tease, starting to sit up so he’ll slip out of you. He roughly pulls you back down by your hips.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafe mutters. You laugh and start to fuck him faster, your hips rolling in circles.

“Fuck,” he groans, head tilting back. “I… Fuck, I need to get on top.”

You shift to let him settle over you, your head resting on your pillow. Rafe’s hand runs up the side of your bent leg and he grabs your calf to pull it towards him, silently inviting you to wrap your legs around him.

You hook your ankles together, your entire body hugging him.

You fuck for at least twenty straight minutes, both of you sweating and panting and shaking. You knew he’d last extra long with the cock ring tight around him, but this is unbelievable.

You cum twice underneath him in the span of the session, earning a string of “good girl”s from him. By your third orgasm, he starts to tremble, too.

When Rafe cums inside you, his name tumbles out in his groan. Not princess, not baby, not good girl, but your name, and it gives you a knotted feeling in your stomach that you haven’t had with him yet.

Maybe it’s because he’s elated over coming down from a new level. Or maybe it’s more.

He pulls out, still dripping.

“So… you like my present?” you ask when he falls in your bed next to you.

“Fuck,” Rafe groans. “That was…” He doesn’t seem to have the words, but neither do you. How do you even begin to describe something this unreal?

“I need water,” you say, unsure of how you’re going to even stand up. “Want some?”

He shakes his head in response.

You stand at your kitchen sink, leaning against the counter and swallowing down cold water. On your way back to the bedroom, you notice a lit up screen on your kitchen table.

Rafe must have left his phone here before you moved to the bed. Through pure instinct, you look at the screen. By the time you realize you’re accidentally snooping, it’s too late.

You don’t see the contact name in time, but you do see the message.

bro where are you? too many bitches here for just me lol

A chill rushes through your body. It must be one of his buddies waiting for him at a party.

Of course. It’s a Friday night and you’re pretty sure all the rich people on the island have to do is party.

You feel like an idiot. Expecting exclusivity from Rafe in the arrangement you’re in was ridiculous. Of course he’s fucking around on the side. Someone like him, with his sex drive, can’t be satisfied by one girl.

At this point, you just want him to leave, so you collect his clothes off the kitchen floor.

Thankfully, Rafe’s already sitting up in your bed when you reenter your bedroom. Surely eager to go.

“Here,” you say coldly, handing him his jeans and t-shirt. You don’t look at him when he takes his clothes from you. “Are you gonna head out?”

You realize when you ask the question, it’s like a secret test you’re putting him through. If he stays, he gives a shit about you. If he leaves, he doesn’t.

“Yeah, I should,” he says. He should. Yeah, he really should go look at and flirt with and fuck other girls.

“‘Kay.” You start to collect some clean clothes from your dresser, covering your body with them, feeling strangely insecure around him now.

“You pissed off or something?” he asks behind you as he gets dressed.

You clench your jaw. Honestly, you’re more hurt than anything. But are you even allowed to be? Just because he acts like your boyfriend sometimes doesn’t mean he is.

“No,” you reply. You swallow down the painful feelings and turn to look at him. “Just tired.” You think back to your texts yesterday about how often you’ve hooked up. “Lost count, right? I might need a break.”

You don’t mean it. At this point, you’re just defensive. Wanting to hurt him like he hurt you.

Rafe’s face flashes in displeasure.

“What - why? What the fuck happened in the last fucking minute?” he asks.

“I’m not allowed to be tired?” you respond.

He dips his head, nodding as he buttons his jeans. He seems silenced by his own anger. Your eyes sweep down his muscled body, wishing he’d just hug you and ask you what’s wrong one more time and reassure you that you’re more than just sex to him.

You can tell he’s pissed off and you know you’re not being fair, but you let him leave without any more words exchanged between you.

After a long shower, you lie in bed and wish Rafe didn’t leave his smell on your pillow. You browse your phone, trying to distract yourself.

You tell yourself you’ll go to sleep in five minutes over and over again. You’re working at the estate tomorrow. You need to get up early. But you know the moment you close your eyes, you’ll be trapped in your thoughts. You don’t want to think about him.

It’s nearing midnight when a text comes in.

Rafe: princessssssdsssss

You look at your screen in confusion. Is this a drunk text?

Rafe: ur mean

Rafe: but ypur pussy is sooo niiice lol

Yeah. He’s plastered.

Rafe: ans you have cutehands

Rafe: you akwyas smell good how the fuck is fhat possibke

You hate that your heart warms at the fact that he’s clearly fucked up but his instinct is to text you.

You reply: i think someone’s drunk…

Rafe: yes iam

Rafe: idk what i’m gona do with yiu loool

You: what do you want to do with me?

You get an alert that he sent you $69.

Rafe: that

Rafe: looool

Sex. Of course.

You: are you going to make me do every position?

Rafe: you’r efreaky as fuck. i know youd like it

You: true…

Rafe: lowkey ur all i think about

Goddamn it. Your heart is pounding at this point. You try to play it off.

You: oh only lowkey. cool

Rafe: don’t be maddd

You: i’m pissed

Rafe: we should fuck aboutt it :)

You know the answer to your next question, that he sees you as a booty call and that’s all, but you know the confirmation.

You: is that all you want to do rafe? fuck?

Rafe: YES

Rafe: what if i come over again tonigjt lol

You: i work tomorrow. i need to sleep

Rafe: you need this dick

You: omg

Rafe: do you likw this skng

Rafe: song

You: ??? what song

You can’t stifle your laugh at how shit-faced he is.

Rafe: irs good

Rafe: u should giveme a lap dance

You: you’re drunk as hell. i’ll see you tomorrow, ok? goodnight

You think back to the way he looked when you snapped at him earlier and decide to send one more message.

You: sorry i was mean

He doesn’t reply. Maybe it’s better that way.

Your body is heavy the next morning. You barely make it to the Camerons’ estate. You don’t see Rafe at all in the morning. You’re guessing he crashed at whoever’s party he went to.

You wonder how many bitches, as he and his friends say, he talked to last night.

When it’s time to turn over his bedsheets, you take a moment to take in the familiarity of his bedroom. When you pull over a new fitted sheet, you realize just how exhausted you are.

There’s no reason for another maid to come into this room. It’s on your list only. And Rafe is gone.

So, what’s the harm in lying down to rest, just for a little bit? You’ll do a better job when you’re not exhausted.

You won’t close your eyes.

You lie on his pillow. Okay, maybe you can close your eyes for a minute. You’ll count to sixty then stand back up.

The numbers quickly melt away and you slip into a slumber.

When you wake up, nuzzling your face into the pillow, Rafe is in bed with you, his back to you.

It takes a moment to remember where you are. You sit up and he notices the movement, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

{ read part eleven here }

author’s note: shoutout to my readers for being so creative. thank you to this anon and this anon and to another reader (you know who you are) for your contributions to this chapter! ILY!

#we are FINALLY getting rafe’s pov in the next part 🫡 #also dont hate me for the cliffhanger pls #two more parts and the series will wrap up!!! hope you’ve liked it 🥰 #im excited to give this fic its ending but honestly sad its almost over #rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfic

[itadorey]

𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐖— gojo satoru

pairing: gojo satoru x gn!reader summary: it's hard to hide your relationship when your boyfriend has a staring problem. genre: fluff, humor (?), secret relationship notes: inspired by a real incident (aware). not revised, sorry for any mistakes </3 wc: ~2.4k

he’s staring.

you're sitting on the couch, curled up in the corner and chatting with shoko about your hellish weeks, and he's just staring.

you keep your gaze on shoko, refusing to look at gojo as he stands in the doorway and all but ignores geto's greeting. it's a little embarrassing, really, and you can't help but spare a glance in his direction in order to give him a sharp glare. the corners of his lips tug up at your action, and he reluctantly tears his eyes away from you and greets geto with an enthusiastic hug.

"i brought cookie dough!" gojo announces proudly, puffing his chest out as the rest of you groan. he all but wilts at the sound you all make, and you can see his lips forming a pout as he gives you all an expectant look. "what's the issue?"

"last time you tried to bake cookies, you burnt them," shoko says dryly, letting her head fall back against the couch as she complains. "for someone who claims to be good at everything you sure seem to love proving yourself wrong."

"that's because i didn't read the instructions, shoko," gojo explains patiently, face smug as he smirks. "but it'll be fine this time because you'll be the one making them."

"like hell i will," shoko snaps, eyes narrowing as she turns her head to glare at gojo.

"then i'll just try my luck again, i guess," gojo says breezily, meeting her glare evenly. the two of them stare each other down for a couple of seconds before shoko lets out a loud sigh and stands up, stalking over to gojo and snatching the container out of his hands. a snicker leaves his lips as she starts to walk towards the kitchen, and it only turns into a full blown laugh when she picks up the nearest thing (which happens to be geto's water bottle) and launches it at him.

"suguru!" shoko yells once she's in the kitchen. "get in here! you're going to help me."

"i'll be right back," geto says, smiling amicably before slipping through the doorway. you turn to finally face gojo, smiling as he bends down to pick up the fallen water bottle before placing it on the table beside him. the smile remains on your face as he approaches, and he can't help but smile in return as he casually points to the now empty space next to you.

"this seat taken?"

"yeah, by shoko," you scoff lightly, shaking your head lightly when he ignores your words and plops himself down next to you. he rests his arm on the back of the couch, and his added weight has the cushion sinking in a way that forces you to lean into him.

"oh? is that so?" gojo asks, an innocent smile on his face as he inches forward the slightest bit.

"yeah," you breathe, eyes darting towards the kitchen to make sure that geto and shoko are still occupied.

"but she's not here right now," gojo teases, chuckling when you roll your eyes.

"she'll come back eventually."

"and she can sit on my other side," gojo states confidently, leaning in even further with a cocky little grin on his face. "besides, we both know she likes curling up and resting her head on the arm rest."

"but she always insists on sitting next to me," you argue, giving in and leaning in as well.

"then you can sit in the middle," gojo whispers, his lips brushing against yours the slightest bit. "that way it's a win-win for everyone involved."

"what about suguru? where will he sit?"

"who cares?" gojo murmurs, eyes fluttering shut as he leans in fully to kiss you.

"the cookies will be ready in fifteen minutes!"

the two of you spring apart, almost leaping to opposite ends of the couch as shoko peeks her head into the living room. there's a moment of silence as she glances between the two of you, and it isn't until she turns to look back at who you assume is geto that you share a mildly panicked look with gojo.

"do we wanna wait or should we just start the movie?" shoko asks, drawing your attention back to her.

"let's just start the movie," you say, willing yourself to sound as normal as possible. shoko nods in return, stepping back into the living room with geto trailing behind her. she makes her way to the couch as geto approaches the tv, gingerly plucking the remote from behind it before settling down on the ground. shoko comes to a stop in front of gojo, motioning for him to move from his spot so she can sit.

you shuffle awkwardly across the couch as gojo makes his way to the other end of the couch, sinking into the middle seat as shoko curls up on the edge and rests her head on the arm rest. you turn to look at gojo when he plops down next to you, only to be met with a smug expression that screams 'i told you so'. the tv comes to life as geto nestles himself into the spot between you and shoko, his broad back pressed firmly up against the couch and preventing you from moving to the left in fear of accidentally kicking him.

"so what are we thinking?" geto asks, tilting his head back to look at the three of you. "comedy? action? romance?"

"horror," you reply flatly, choosing to ignore the look geto had sent your way when he had suggested romance. you smirk when you notice his expression fall, and he merely grumbles something under his breath before shifting his attention back to the tv.

"any objections?" geto asks, sparing a glance at shoko and frowning when she shakes her head. "any at all?"

"just choose a movie," shoko sighs, lightly kicking the back of geto's head. it's silent as geto finally settles on a movie that you know you've all seen before, and you decide to let it slide this time because you know that dealing with a scared geto is worse than sitting through a rewatch.

you reach across gojo to turn off the floor lamp, effectively plunging the living room into near-darkness. the glow from the television is bright enough to highlight geto's uncertain expression, and you resist the urge to snicker as you lean forward to tug at his hair. he looks up at you in annoyance, rolling his eyes when you speak. "if you get too scared, you can just sit on gojo's lap, okay?"

a low snort leaves shoko's words at your comment, and geto shushes her as the movie begins to play. you quickly find yourself engrossed in the film, and you let yourself melt into the couch as the first scene plays. you make sure to stay aware of geto's reactions when you realize the first jump scare is coming up, and you're rewarded with a sharp jolt as geto does his best to hold in his gasp.

a swat to the calf is all you receive when he hears your quiet laugh, and you throw a glance at shoko in hopes of sharing an amused glance, only to stop when you notice her already looking at you. or rather, looking past you and directly at gojo.

you feel yourself stiffen as you force yourself to look back at the film, waiting for shoko so turn her attention back to the tv before glancing at gojo through your periphery. a soft sigh leaves your lips when you see him staring at you, and you waste no time before elbowing his side and subtly tilting your head towards the tv. you don't wait to see his reaction, but you do feel him shift in his seat, stretching his arm across the back of the couch before running his fingers over your shoulder lightly.

you shiver lightly at the contact, and you don't even have to spare gojo another glance to know he's back to staring at you. the next few minutes consist of the same few actions: gojo shamelessly stares at you, shoko shoots him suspicious glances, and you do your best to ignore the two of them while you watch the movie. it isn't until a phone goes off that the strange cycle finally gets broken.

"what was that?" geto asks, eyes wide and voice low as he pauses the movie. you shake your head, trying to suppress a smile at his reaction.

"my phone," shoko says, her eyes glinting with amusement. "the cookies are ready. c'mon, suguru."

"no, i'll help!" you say, jumping to your feet. you watch as shoko watches you with narrowed eyes, and can't help but sigh in relief when she merely shrugs and starts making her way into the kitchen. you pointedly ignore gojo's stare and geto's curious look, slipping into the next room just in time to see shoko pull a tray out of the oven.

"i wanna wait for them to cool down, but i also know how impatient those two are," shoko mutters, a hand on her hip as she looks down at the tray. you hold up a finger, skirting around her and rifling through one of geto's drawers before finding a spatula.

"we can just transfer them to a plate and take them back with us. besides, gojo likes them warm," you suggest, earning a nod from shoko. you trade places with her while she pulls out a plate, and you begin scooping the freshly baked cookies onto it as she leans on the counter next to you.

"so, gojo," shoko says offhandedly. "y'know, he's been staring all night."

"oh? has he?" you ask, mentally patting yourself on the back when your voice remains steady.

"yeah," she continues, watching as you place the last of the cookies on the plate before grabbing it. "just pay attention and you'll notice. it's kind of scary, if i'm being honest. if he kept looking at me with those eyes of his, i'd put in a complaint with yaga."

you can't help but giggle at her words, and you quickly wash the spatula and dry it before placing it back into the drawer. "i'll keep your words in mind."

shoko gives you a lazy smile before plucking the tray of cookies off the counter, already making her way back into the living room. "make sure to keep an eye out!"

"yeah, yeah, whatever," you grumble under your breath, following after her and taking your seat once again. you flinch when she plops the plate into your lap, but you're given no time to say anything before geto and gojo are digging into the cookies.

"they're still warm!" gojo exclaims, earning a soft smile from you. shoko watches you closely, making sure to give you a knowing look when you finally glance her way. she remains silent when geto starts playing the movie once again, only reaching for a cookie herself and curling back up on the couch cushion.

five minutes after resuming the movie, you feel gojo's knee bump against yours as he shifts in his spot, sinking lower in his seat and spreading his legs apart before leaning against the armrest on his side. you can feel shoko's prickly stare as you keep your own gaze focused on the tv, and you simply tuck your legs under you and refuse to acknowledge either one of them. it isn't long until you can feel gojo staring at you too, and you feel your face grow warmer due to all the attention.

by the time the movie ends, geto is the only one who can say he actually watched the film, and he wastes no time before leaping to his feet and letting out a groan as he stretches.

"well, i need a drink if we're going to continue with the horror movies," geto announces, turning the floor lamp back on. he leans over to snag the last cookie, breaking it in two before offering half to gojo.

"me too," shoko agrees, suppressing a yawn as she joins geto's side. "i could go for a drink."

"me three," you chime in, making a move to stand up only to be stopped by shoko.

"nah, stay here," she says smugly, placing a hand on your shoulder to keep you in place. "i'll get it for you."

"um, okay?" you respond hesitantly, watching as geto follows shoko into the kitchen. "thank you!"

"well, well, well," gojo says quietly, leaning in and drawing your attention back to him. "it seems like we're all alone."

"you're so stupid," you snort, gently pushing him away from you. he pouts at your action and you find yourself shaking your head fondly at his expression. "shoko's been noticing all the staring you've been doing."

"well can you blame me?" he asks, grabbing your hand and pulling you close. he lets his lips skim against your knuckles, and you roll your eyes when he finally presses a firm kiss to the back of your hand. "how can i not stare when i have the most beautiful art i've ever seen sitting right next to me?"

"you're so cheesy!" you hiss, ignoring the way your stomach lurches when he gently intertwines his fingers with yours.

"yeah but you love it," gojo responds haughtily.

"yeah, i do," you say softly. gojo's eyes soften at your words, and he leans forward slightly before pausing, hesitation clear on his face. you let go of his hand to cup his cheek, pulling him even closer as you run your thumb along his cheekbone. "c'mere."

gojo's lips meet yours eagerly, and you resist the urge to smile when you hear him hum happily. you scoot yourself closer to him, half on his lap as he tilts his head to the side in an attempt to deepen the kiss. you respond eagerly, giggling when his hands settle on your waist and pull you onto his lap entirely.

"i told you they were making out!"

the two of you pull away from each other when you hear shoko's voice, and you turn to give her a mildly annoyed look as she gives you a smug one in return. geto stands right behind her, lips pursed as he does his best to hold back a smile.

"yeah, we were," gojo mutters bitterly, giving shoko a dark look. "before you so rudely interrupted."

shoko only laughs at his words, and you don't have the chance to explain anything before gojo is pulling you into another kiss.

"you owe me five bucks, suguru!"

reblogs are appreciated <3 ty for reading !!

#gojo x reader #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #gojo imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo x you #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #gojo satoru fluff #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x you #gojo imagines #satoru x reader

[cillianmurphyygf]

i think i'm in love with you

ꕥ luke castellan x afab!reader

warnings: descriptions of wounds + blood, allusions to sex but no actual smut, shitty writing (i havent wrote a fanfic in multiple years), not proofread cuz im way too lazy, (y/n) isn't used at all in this idk i almost like reading fanfic better without it

summary: you wake up in the middle of the night to strange noises. you find luke outside, with a deep wound in his side. you take him to the lake to take care of him. unfortunately for you, luke's in a teasing mood.

word count: 2.7k

You awoke suddenly to strange noises. Soft groans fell through the walls of your cabin. At first, you assumed it to be something you should be careful not to walk in on. But, as your head cleared up more as you fully woke up, it sounded more like someone who was in pain. 

Rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, you slowly pulled the covers off of your body and stepped into a pair of soft slippers. You carefully weaved through the various beds in the dark towards the door. The groans continued, rendering you more concerned and nervous. You quietly eased the door open, wincing at every squeak it made. You peeked your head outside, searching for the source of the noise.

Through squinted eyes, your attention eventually landed on a certain Hermes boy laid down in the grass. Luke. You quickly shut the door, completely forgetting about keeping quiet, and tip-toe ran across the grass towards the boy. You and Luke had been friends for quite a while. You arrived at camp a month or so after him, and he was the most welcoming one there. While you remained unclaimed in the Hermes cabin for a few months, it didn’t really hurt as much while you were with Luke. He was the perfect distraction and a great friend, although you had begun to wish for something more.

“Luke!” You whisper yelled, causing him to practically jump a foot off the ground. Looking towards the startling voice, he realized it was you. He quickly sat up, his hand placed on his chest as he tried his best to calm his suddenly erratic breathing.

“Oh, thank gods, it’s just you,” he laughed breathlessly, suddenly wincing and placing his hand on his side. His flushed face turned down toward his wound before he threw his head back again, hissing in pain.

“What happened?!” You exclaimed in a panic, running to close the last piece of distance between you both. You quickly fell to your knees next to him, trying to get a good look at whatever was hidden underneath his hand. He attempted to laugh it off but immediately winced and groaned. His hand remained on his side, hiding whatever had happened. “Luke I’ve gotta see..” you tried.

“I’m fine,” he responded, dismissively. He gave you a tightlipped smile in an attempt to reassure you. It did quite the opposite. You reached your hand to pull his away from his side.

“You’re not fine Luke-” His free hand grasped your wrist tightly, preventing you from moving yours any closer to his wound. You stayed silent and unstill, unsure of the situation. In your moment of stillness, your eyes raked over his hand wrapped tightly around yours. The veins in his hand and forearm looked so perfect, especially under the soft moonlight. You wondered what his hand would look like wrapped around your-

“Hey!” Luke snapped his fingers in front of your face, trying to regain your attention.

“Huh?” You responded, clueless and still in a daze, your eyes stuck on his hand around yours. You could have sworn you saw a sly smirk adorn his face from the corner of your eye but you brushed it off. You were tired, you were probably just seeing things. You snapped out of your trance, looking back at his face, confused about everything. “Luke, you’ve gotta let me help you-”

“Princess, I-”

“I have no idea what you did or what happened to you, but I’m worried and you’re being so confusing right now..” You trailed off, avoiding his eyes for a moment. Princess. You hated (loved) when he used that nickname for you. It gave you hope that he could ever feel the same way about you. You heard Luke sigh.

“Okay, I just got in a bit of a fight with an Ares kid.. he pulled a knife on me, got me in the side.. I was clumsy, made a mistake,” he removed his hand from your wrist, prompting you to reconnect your eye contact. “I’m fine and I’ll be more careful next time.” He smiled, trying to dismiss your worries yet again.

“Can you show me?” You asked tentatively. He looked at you and nodded. You noticed that same smirk from earlier, only softer and more hidden. Maybe you hadn’t been imagining things. You watched his hand reach down to the hem of his shirt. Oh shit. You had not thought about that. You internally facepalmed. You were so fucked. His fingers wrapped around the bottom seam of his shirt as he pulled it up about halfway. Your eyes immediately darted to his wound. A seemingly deep gash ran from about the bottom of his ribs to the top of his pelvis. Blood trickled along his already blood covered skin. Oh it looked bad. You caught your bottom lip between your teeth, a nervous habit. 

As you examined the bloody gash, your eyes had other ideas. Your gaze slowly moved on to take in his toned abdomen. He had nice abs, prominent, but not so much like those crazy American bodybuilders. They gave you the creeps. His were just the perfect shape, size, and.. everything about him was perfect. While his side was doused in his own blood, the rest of his abdomen was covered in scattered beads of sweat. He looked good. Like really good. Luke’s sharp intake of breath broke you out of your trance. You quickly cleared your throat, hoping he hadn’t noticed you had been examining the rest of his body instead of his injury. 

“I’d ask if you like what you see but.. I’m in a bit of a predicament currently.” Luke chuckled, referring to the bloody gash. Your face flushed red. Shit, he noticed. You fumbled over your words, trying to form a coherent sentence. He watched you, amused, but still very evidently in pain. You abruptly stood up, offering Luke your hand.

“You got a kit or something I can use?” You asked as you carefully pulled him to his feet. His arm landed to rest over your shoulders. You felt the breath leave your body. He was so close. His body heat radiated heavily onto your already heated body. You hoped he couldn’t feel how hot you are, or how loud and hard your heart was beating. His quiet groan brought you back to your senses.

“Yeah I’ve got a kit hidden in the trees near the beach.” He finally answered. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“Why.. there?” You asked, genuinely confused. Luke looked down at you as if you should have already known.

“For times like these.” He replied, as if it were obvious. You just shrugged and let him slowly lead you to the beach. The trek through the grass proved a lot more difficult than you had expected. Random bumps and holes in the dirt caused you both to almost fall multiple times.

“Here,” Luke spoke and pointed a few feet in front of you. You nodded and slowly lowered him to the ground, leaning him against the tree. Your hands rummaged and dug through the dirt in search of Luke’s medical kit. Your fingernail eventually scratched along a hard, plastic surface. You dug your hands further into the dirt to pull the case out of the ground.

“I got it!” You sighed in relief. Your hands were becoming increasingly tired from all of the digging. You sat next to Luke, opening the latches of the small box. He smiled at you, watching your every move, completely mesmerized by you. You grabbed the small bottle of rubbing alcohol and popped it open. You opened your mouth to speak, looking up at Luke, only to find him already looking back at you. You quickly looked away, your face flushing a deep crimson. You took a deep breath before allowing yourself to actually speak.

“I’m gonna need you to hold your shirt up above the cut, if you’re comfortable.” You looked back up at Luke, nervously waiting for his response. You shouldn’t have been that nervous, you were just tending to his wound, nothing else. But still, the idea of asking him to lift up his shirt and reveal his really nice abdomen embarrassed you a lot.

“Yeah of course.” He replied in a suddenly husky, low voice. It caught you off guard, causing even more heat to rush to your cheeks.. and to the spot between your legs. He grasped the hem of his orange shirt and pulled it up, revealing the wound again.

“Okay.. this is gonna hurt, but I’ve gotta clean it out somehow.” You warned, slowly starting to pour the rubbing alcohol over the cut. Luke nodded in acknowledgement, hissing immediately as the strong liquid hit his skin. You hadn’t really treated all too many wounds in your lifetime, let alone a cut as deep and bloody as this one. You hoped you were doing it right and you weren’t making it worse. Luke’s harsh groans and hisses weren’t aiding your stressed mind. Throughout the few minutes you spent drenching his side in rubbing alcohol, you noticed him drop his shirt a few times, muttering apologies, saying his hands were having trouble keeping it up. You brushed it off each and every time it happened. 

Once you finally deemed it enough rubbing alcohol, you moved away from his abdomen, grabbing the cap of the bottle. Your shaky hands tried closing the bottle but to no avail. You were stressed and embarrassed, and your entire body was shaking way too much. Luke’s warm hands grasped yours.

“Hey,” He whispered, grabbing your attention. You looked up at him. “I’ve got it.” He smiled at you, and carefully took the bottle from your palms to close it himself. You whispered your thanks under your breath, so quiet, you almost couldn’t hear it yourself. You reached back into the medical kit to pull out a cloth and an antiseptic wipe. You placed your hand on Luke’s cheek. Red slowly started to creep up his neck and into his cheeks, unbeknownst to you.

“I’ll be right back, I’m just gonna wet the cloth.” You told him, smiling and standing up. 

“You’re too good to me.” Luke said, in that low voice, again. You turned quickly to hide your blush, making your way to the shore, as quick as you could. You dipped the cloth in the cold water and rung it out. You jogged back to Luke at the tree, dropping back onto your knees next to him. You lightly dabbed the cloth around his cut, trying to pick up and clean up the blood all over him. You did your best to avoid pressing into the actual cut, but failed a few times. Luke tried his best to keep his cool, but you could see how much he was hurting. You felt awful. 

Occasionally, Luke would let the hem of his shirt slip out of his hands, obscuring your cleaning abilities. He would apologize profusely, telling you he had no idea why it kept happening. When you would shrug and go back to cleaning the blood, a smug smile would pull at his lips. You were so clueless.

You continued to clean the excess blood off of Luke’s body. His shirt would drop every couple minutes. He would apologize, and you would get back to work. This went on for a little over ten minutes.

You placed the cloth at your side, actually proud of what you had got done so far. You had managed to clean up the majority of the blood from his cut, and it was looking a lot better now. All that was left for now was to wrap it up and then send him for Ambrosia to finish the healing process. 

As you grabbed the roll of bandage from the box, you watched Luke drop his shirt yet again. He sighed dramatically and threw his hands up in defeat.

“I just can’t keep my shirt up. Guess I’m just gonna have to take the whole thing off.” He sighed and grabbed the hem, pulling it up and over his head. You were practically drooling as you watched. The way his muscles flexed when he ripped his shirt off.. it was so.. hot. You could now see his entire toned abdomen, and his chest. Your face was surely beet red at this point. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. 

You had no idea in your trance, but Luke was watching the way you looked at him, a smug smile adorning his perfect face. He loved the way you reacted to his body. He thought you were the cutest thing. It was fun to see you all flustered like this. Eventually, by some miracle you were able to pull your eyes away from Luke’s body to focus on bandaging him up. You hastily unraveled the thin cloth, trying to ignore the burning feeling of Luke’s eyes on you, watching your every move. 

You leaned over his body, trying to reach to start the wrapping. It turned out to be really difficult, as you could barely reach. You sat back and sat there for a moment, trying to clear your head and figure out your next plan of action.

“I’m not sure how I’m gonna..” You admitted quietly, embarrassed. Luke looked up at you with a very clear and obvious smirk on his face. This worried you. You had no idea what he was planning, and you did not want to make a fool of yourself. 

To your immense surprise, Luke’s hands grabbed onto your hips and lifted you off the ground, making you squeal. He sat you down on his lap, in a straddle position. You were so close. Too close. The embarrassingly warm area between your legs sat right over his. You prayed and prayed he couldn’t feel it. You would never live it down.

“That’ll do it.” Luke smiled and pat your thigh encouragingly, causing you to let out a sharp squeak. You gulped and tried to focus on the bandage again. Your shaky hands brought the edge of the bandage to his back as you wrapped it around his torso, multiple times over. You wrapped it tight, but not too tight as to suffocate Luke.

Although, at that point it wouldn’t have mattered. Luke was completely focused on making you a flustered mess. The intense pain he was in was in the very back of his mind. He could barely feel it at this point. He was having way too much fun with you.

After the most painfully long two minutes of your life, you had finally finished wrapping Luke up. You let out a huge breath you didn’t know you were holding, feeling a weight drop off of your shoulders. You had never felt so stressed and embarrassed in your life. You hoped your work would hold up well and you had done it right.

Luke’s arms wrapped around your torso, pulling you in even closer. His nose brushed against yours as he looked up at you through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Thanks for your help,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. He leaned in even closer. “Means a lot.” He mumbled, almost against your lips. Your heart rate was through the roof. He was so close. So close you could kiss him. You could feel his breath mingling with yours. The warmth between your legs only continued to grow now. Luke chuckled lowly, watching the thoughts flow through your mind.

Luke moved his lips ever closer to yours. Dropping to a deep whisper, he spoke again. “I think.. I’m in love with you..” His lips moved slowly to capture yours. Your eyes widened, before you closed them, easing into his kiss. 

Your lips moved in perfect unison, as if made for eachother. Your hands moved to grip his dark curls. You softly pulled, feeling him moan into your mouth. Luke pulled away, moving his lips to your neck. Nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. He was sure to leave many marks on your delicate skin.

“I-” You were cut off by your own moans as Luke’s hands moved to rest on your breasts while his kisses along your neck became harsher. He slowly pulled away from your neck, keeping his hands on your chest.

“What were you gonna say, baby?”

“I.. love you as well.” You replied, breathless. Luke smirked, crashing his lips into yours again.

#luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #charlie bushnell #charlie bushnell x reader #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #pjo #pjo series #percy jackson series #x reader #pjo show #percy jackson show

[hazyhae]

roomie high | lmk

stoner!roommate!mark -> roommates to ???

summary: looking for a weed-friendly roommate lands you in a living situation with mark lee. you find it harder and harder to mask your attraction to the man, and soon find that weed isn't the only thing you'll be getting high on.

wc: 3.8k 18+ mdni

cw: afab!gn!reader, weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, unprotected penetrative sex but he pulls out, oral (reader receiving), baby as petname, mark calls reader dude, reader calls mark markie, instigator friend haechan, masturbation, slight voyeurism (mark catches reader mb), multiple orgasms

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when you asked around if any of your friends knew anyone looking for a weed-friendly roommate, you didn’t expect to end up living with mark lee of all people.

you and mark weren’t friends per se, but you weren’t exactly strangers either. you had mutual friends and the two of you always exchanged a wave whenever in the same area, but you’ve never actually talked. you knew his name because of your friends, and you assumed it was the same for him.

what sets you apart is the fact that you’ve been attracted to him since the first time you saw him light up a joint at one of your mutual friend’s hangouts.

you remember the way his eyes never left the person he was talking to as he inhaled, taking a second to let it settle before turning his head to blow it off to the side.

the vision of him engulfed in a hazy cloud of smoke has not since left your mind, wishing you were the person reflected in his glossy eyes.

when you had to find another apartment after your lease ended due to their newly-implemented no-smoking policy, your only criteria for a new roommate was a) not being a murderer and b) weed-friendly.

you had asked your friends at another one of the hangouts, and your loud-mouthed friend haechan knew just the perfect person to ask.

you cringe, remembering how he called mark over with a loud voice. you were face to face with the person you had been admiring for a while, as a potential roommate no less, and haechan’s loud mouth blabbered on about your situation until you made him shut up.

mark lived in a two bedroom apartment, and his old roommate moved in with their partner, so he needed someone to fill the empty room. he was honestly perfect for your situation.

“i mean, i’m cool with it, if you are..?” mark asked, beady eyes staring into yours. you felt like you were dreaming.

“..yeah, we can talk about it after today,” you had responded, chiding yourself for the awkward pause. you needed to find a new place to live fast, and as far as you knew, mark lee was no murderer.

and so you sealed your fate to live with the object of your affections.

if you thought mark was attractive before living together, it’s even harder now to hide your attraction now that you’ve gotten to know him better.

4 months of living together has given you plenty of time to bond, and at some point you do find yourself becoming more comfortable with mark. you find your work schedules align pretty well, so you often end your nights with a meal and a smoke session.

you think back on the first time you smoked together.

“hey dude, uh.. house-warming smoke?” he had asked shyly with his cute lopsided grin after you had finished moving in the last of your things. his eyes were darting around, holding a shoebox you assume held his weed supplies.

never being one to turn down a smoke, you accepted, and it took everything in you not to stare. the way he rolled the joint so quickly with a concentrated face had you questioning your self control. how can someone be so endearing?

weed always does the job of breaking the ice, and after passing back the joint back and forth, you found yourself in comfortable conversation with your new roommate. thus settled your new routine.

as much as you told yourself afterwards to keep it cool, it’s kind of hard now that you see that same sight that made you fall for the man in the first place almost every night in your living room. and now you are the person in his sights.

it’s so easy for you and mark get lost in your high thoughts, and the conversations often go until the late hours of the night. a lot of those nights, the two of you will knock out cold on the couch.

while you think your platonic connection could help you to calm your feelings down, these times you bond with him only lead to the opposite.

everything about mark when he’s high gets you riled up.

his glazed over, hooded eyes, the deep breaths he takes as he lets his high settle, the deep groans that leave him when when he stretches after being sunk into the couch for too long.

it all goes straight to between your legs.

you’re ashamed to admit it, but a lot of the times after mark’s knocked out for the night, you can’t help but stumble into your bed, shoving your hand between your thighs to relieve the ache that is a direct result of mark lee.

it all feels so different when you’re high. your senses are heightened, feeling the pads of your own lubricated fingers running up your slit thinking of the man who made you this wet, wishing it were his fingers instead.

you find that you always cum a little harder when it’s mark on your mind, and after some point, you can cum only thinking about him.

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after another night of smoking and relieving your sexual frustrations after he’s fallen asleep, you feel of twinge of guilt when you wake up to a groggy mark in the living room.

it’s difficult to act like everything’s normal when there’s nothing more you want than for him to stuff you full.

“if you’re making coffee can i also get a cup, please? i’m gonna be fighting for my life at work today..” he asks while still rubbing the sleep from his eyes. he’s just so cute, and you just feel even more ashamed at the not-so-innocent thoughts you constantly have about him.

you head to work for the day, and towards the end of your shift in comes the very friend that got you into this living arrangement.

“so have you fucked your roomie yet?” haechan teases, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

“hyuck, i’m going to need you to stop talking.” you glare at him.

“what?? i’m not the one making goo-goo eyes at mark fucking lee,” haechan snaps back too quickly.

“i swear if you say a fucking word to him, you’re dead.” you start to inch closer to him.

“i’m just trying to support you, my friend. i heard his dick is hu-”

you slap your hands over his mouth. “let’s stop it right there.”

haechan bursts into laughter at your anger, and you want to kick him out but this shift has already drained all your energy.

just as haechan is about to start teasing, you see a very familiar head of blonde hair making its way to you.

“mark?? what are you doing here?” you are surprised to see him at your work place. he’s only been here a couple of times and he always texted you before he would come.

haechan daps up mark, looking between the two of you with a grin.

“i got outta work a little early so i thought i’d come by and we can get take out for dinner on the way home?” as much as you see him at your apartment, something about him coming to get you from work just feels so intimate.

“take out sounds good with me!” haechan butts in a little too happily before you can say anything.

you and mark give him a look. it’s not the first time he’s invited himself over. he’s smiling at the two of you for a moment before laughing again.

“i’m just kidding guys, you should see the looks on your faces.” he turns on his heel to head back to his own apartment. “wouldn’t want to interrupt anything, see you later cuties!”

your friend is gone before either of you can say anything. mark looks confused, and your face burns at haechan’s insinuations that there’s anything going on that he’d be interrupting.

“wha- interrupting? interrupting what?” mark turns to you with a confused face.

even his confusion you find endearing, but you are quick to change the subject. “he’s just being stupid, what do you wanna get for dinner?”

mark nods, chuckling. “hmm i don’t know. what do you want?” he responds, mind trying to settle on a dinner spot.

you. i want you. your thoughts ring.

“let’s get some noodles from down the street, i’ve been craving them.” you push your desires to the back of your mind and get excited at the thought of the comfort food. mark smiles warmly at you.

“sure, it’s on me tonight!” he offers excitedly. your face gets warm.

“thank you, markie.”

“anything for you.” his voice is just a bit too tender for your heart to take.

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at home, the two of you light up before digging into your food, but something about mark today is a little different.

he’s always nice, but he’s going out of his way to be even nicer.

it’s a little too cold in your living room, and he goes to his room to put on a hoodie. to your surprise, he also brings one back for you. when he sees your confused face when he hands it to you, he starts sputtering.

“oh shit, uhh, wait my bad you totally could’ve just gotten one of yours.” you shake your head, feeling grateful and also wanting to seize the opportunity.

“no, i’ll take yours, too lazy to get up. thank you,” you beam at him.

settling into the couch, you’re having trouble lighting the joint, so he puts it in his own mouth, lighting it before holding it up to your lips so you can take a hit.

he doesn’t realize what he’s doing to you, or maybe he does, but you’re too caught up in the feeling of being wrapped in mark’s scent, cuddled into his hoodie as you slowly hotbox the apartment.

it’s a friday night, so you two can smoke as much as you want, having the weekend off. and smoke you do.

as the night progresses, the two of you have made your way through 3 joints, and mark holds his pipe in hand ready to light up a bit more.

you’re honestly both high as shit, and you both know it too. every little thing on the tv is the funniest thing you’ve ever seen, and your noodles are long gone.

you look at mark through hooded lids, admiring how he takes a long drag from his pipe, handing it to you before letting the smoke seep from his lips. you take a hit and set it down.

“i’m about to be glued to this couch for the next 24 hours,” mark drawls out. he readjusts himself on the couch, letting out a sound that’s a borderline moan, and it doesn’t escape your ears.

if only he knew that was the icing on the cake sending you back to your room to take care of the growing aching between your legs. mark slowly dozes off, softly snoring, and you know that’s your cue to escape to bed.

you wobble into your room, the high still fresh and raging as you lazily push your door to close and immediately settle into bed with your hand shoved into your pants.

mark’s smell is still very much so embedded into his hoodie, and it only serves to heighten your imagination.

your mind jumps to a vision of mark and you on the couch, with you bouncing on his cock as he lets out his delicious groans into your ear.

you think of his tender, “anything for you,” from earlier today, and how much of a gentleman he was. it just riles you up more as you insert your fingers into your entrance.

when mark falls asleep after smoking, he’s knocked out cold for the night, so you aren’t worried about him waking up. you think you’re holding your voice back, but your mind is hazy from the weed and your moans are not as quiet as you think.

mark is fast asleep on the couch, but a sudden vibration of his phone laying on top of his chest jolts him awake.

“what the…” he rubs his eyes, moving to get up and go to his room to lay in the comfort of his bed. he’s still so high, and he almost misses a soft cry coming from the direction of your room. almost.

he turns his head to your room, seeing your door slightly open with the warm light from your bedside lamp peaking through. he thinks he’s hearing things until he hears it again.

but it’s not just a cry, it’s the sound of a name.

his name. in your voice.

“m-mark. oh fuck, mark.”

there’s no way what he thinks is going on is happening, but as he approaches the door, his suspicions are not only confirmed by the repetition of his name, but the view of you that comes into his vision.

you’re on your bed, wearing only his hoodie and underwear that currently houses your hand. your legs are spread and your head is thrown back as you moan out his name.

mark’s mouth goes dry, and he immediately feels himself harden. this can’t be a high dream, right? he pinches himself. nope, not a dream.

he swallows thickly as he processes everything going on in front of him. sober mark would be more hesitant, but high mark says fuck it. you’re literally calling out to him.

you don’t even notice your roommate come in until you feel a dip in your bed. you gasp, immediately closing your legs as your head snaps up to make eye contact with the intruder.

you look up to see mark, his eyes intense as they meet yours.

“mark! oh my fucki- get out!” you start to ramble, shocked at this situation. “i swear it’s not what it looks like.. i just-”

“what does it look like, baby?” mark comes closer to you. you immediately stop at his words, mouth opening in shock at the petname. mark continues.

“that you’re getting your pretty little self off while moaning my name? what are you thinking about?” he settles in front of your now curled up form.

“or, who are you thinking about? cause i think i can guess who,” he says lowly, lips forming a slight grin as he peers into your widened eyes.

this isn’t just a product of being high out of your mind, right?

you sit up slightly.

“mark.. you aren’t weirded out?” you ask hesitantly.

“why would i be? in fact, let me show you how i’m feeling.” time seems to slow as mark grabs your hand and leads your hand to his sweats. you gasp as you feel how hard - and big - he is.

“sorry for the interruption, but let’s get back to it? i’d love to give you a hand, baby,” mark backs up, pulling you by the waist until you’re propped on your back atop your pillows. he settles between your legs.

“all wrapped up in my hoodie, just like a present,” mark says lowly, his eyes moving down as he lifts up the bottom of his hoodie to meet your soaked underwear. “is all this for me?”

you’re still in shock, honestly, but even this is a high fever dream, you’re taking full advantage of it.

“it’s all for you, markie,” you manage to let out.

he immediately jumps into action even in his high state, getting on his stomach to go down on you. he doesn’t even bother taking off your underwear. he’s tasting you as your panties get even more soaked, your arousal combining with his spit.

mark uses one hand to move your panties to the side, and you gasp at the direct contact.

“oh god mark, feels too fucking good,” you moan out. your body is already feeling so good from the amount of weed coursing through your blood, but mark’s tongue is sending chills throughout your entire being.

your eyes roll and toes curl at the pleasure, hands coming to grip his hair as he lets the mixture of his spit and your juices flow down his chin onto your bed.

mark buries his nose into your clit, looking up at you, and as if you sense him staring, you look back down to meet his eyes.

the sight of him gripping your thigh with one arm as his other hand works to get you off is something beyond your wildest dreams, and it has you cumming only seconds after locking eyes.

mark stares up at you in wonder, groaning as you throw your head up and let out a cry, legs shaking around his head as he helps you ride out your orgasm.

when he sits back up to admire his work, he swears he could cum then and there. in his sights is you still in his hoodie, eyes teary, panting from the pleasure he gave you, and underwear absolutely soaked.

“fuck, baby, you tasted too good.” he’s so hard it hurts.

as you come down, you look up at him, catching his breath, lips still shiny, and eyes absolutely piercing. the haze of the high is still there, and you both know exactly what needs to come next.

“mark, fuck me, please.”

“…anything for you, baby,” mark replies. he takes off his shirt and sweats, and your hands move to take his hoodie off of you when he stops you.

“no, keep it on. i need to fill you up like this,” he says, tone slightly pleading. if he was already beyond turned on seeing you get off in his hoodie, fucking you in it would be a whole different story.

“condoms?” he asks.

“i’m on the pill, and i haven’t fucked anyone in a really long time,” you reply, getting slightly impatient. you just want to feel him.

mark doesn’t realize it straight away, but he’s so happy to hear that. “me too, baby.”

he lines himself up with your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit to coat himself in your arousal. you moan out at the teasing, still sensitive from earlier.

“stop teasing, need you so bad mark,” you groan. he grins.

“shh, need to take my time stretching you out, baby.” he latches his head onto your entrance, slowly pushing the tip in. just the tip has you seeing stars.

“fuck mark, w-why are you so big..” the stretch burns, but he slowly inches himself in, letting you adjust.

“you’re so t-tight,” he chokes out, teeth clenching as he feels your walls start to engulf him. if he moves too fast, he knows he’ll cum too soon.

as he bottoms out, the two of you moan into each other, his forehead resting on yours as you both feel each other.

“can i kiss you, dude?” mark asks a bit too innocently for the situation you’re in, and your resulting laugh sends a vibration through you that has you both moaning out.

“i can’t believe you just called me dude when your dick is literally inside of me right now, of course you can kiss me,” you give him the okay, and right away his lips are on yours.

the kiss is sluggish yet deep, and he starts to move his hips ever so slightly as he deepens your kiss further. his hips start to pick up more speed gradually, and you separate from his lips as you gasp out.

you’re moaning his name and he’s moaning yours, both of your thoughts unable to form coherently. the only thing you have in mind is each other and how good you both feel.

his hips start to rut into you more desperately, his pelvis hitting your sensitive bud as deep groans leave his throat.

you’re getting lost in the rocking motion, feeling drool leak from the side of your mouth. his cock reaches a place so deep inside of you no other has reached.

mark is also feeling it, mind spinning as his breaths leave him harshly. he’s knows he’s not gonna last long.

“fuck baby, i need you to cum on my cock.” he punctuates his words with his hand resting on your lower stomach as he starts to thumb at your clit.

your eyes shut tight at the feeling, already reaching another high. the band in your stomach tightens and tightens as mark rubs harsh circles in tempo with his quickening thrusts, and in a second the band snaps.

you cum hard around mark, and mark almost has to stop from how tight you’re gripping around him, walls pulsating as you ride out your high. relieved at you finishing and unable to hold back any longer, mark pulls out and finishes, cum landing on the hoodie you’re wearing.

he collapses next to you, and the two of you catch your breath as you come down from both your sex and weed highs.

mark’s too fucked out to realize he came on his own hoodie, but you’re the one to point it out. already feeling your eyes droop with fatigue, you tiredly joke with him.

“markie, you came all over your hoodie, how am i supposed to stay warm tonight?” you hope he’s picking up what you’re trying to say, and luckily he does. he sits up, tugging the hoodie off your form and tossing it to the side.

“nah dude, i can do a better job than that old hoodie.” mark lays back down, gathering you into his arms. you lay your head against his chest tucked under his chin and close your eyes.

both of you have cooled down, and the feeling of his skin on yours is just what you need. the warmth from mark’s body wrapped around you lulls you to start dozing off.

mark calls your name.

“what is it, markie?”

he’s silent for a second before you feel his chin shift atop your head. he’s smiling.

“round 2 in the morning?”

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆ ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

thank you for reading!! this is the fastest fic i've written so far so hopefully it's okayy. happy new year!!! ♡ in luv with mark lee rn

-coco :)

#stoner!nct #nct smut #nct dream smut #mark smut #mark lee smut #nct x reader #mark lee x reader #mark x reader #nct 127 smut #coco writes

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Bolinus brandaris [S. R]

Spencer Reid x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

and by public demand, part. 2

summary: Reid loves the gift you just gave him and the whole team can notice.

"Everyone ready to go back?" Gideon asked, taking a quick look at the jet to make sure all of you were there. You had an extortion case quite far from home, Miami to be exact, and you had a long flight back to Quantico, so the last thing he wanted was to forget someone.

Miami was a beautiful place that you would have liked to visit in other circumstances, that had nothing to do with crimes at all, since you had always felt a certain weakness for the warm climate, the sticky breeze, and the sound of the waves that were on the beach.

You had only had the chance to go to a mall to buy a new outfit, because yours had been completely ruined, while Morgan took advantage of the wait to buy an ice cream popsicle. It hadn't been a dream ride, but it was something at least.

“I feel like I could sleep for 90 hours straight,” you sighed, closing your eyes and falling into Spencer's side as usual. You two were the youngest, he was younger than you of course, so it was easier to connect with him than the other members of the team. You seemed to have similar interests and he was strangely comfortable with you.

“You would actually need to wake up periodically to expel fluids or you would risk bursting your bladder or even your bowels, because even though your digestive system shuts down when you sleep it only does so for a certain number of hours. Maybe you could sleep for 14 or 17 hours, which is what a baby sleeps, but 90 seems excessive to me even if you do not consume drinks or food before doing so”

"It's an expression, Reid" you laughed, but without the intention of making him feel bad for having answered you that way. Sometimes it was necessary to explain to him that you weren't being serious, as obvious as this seemed.

"You can sleep through the whole trip" he argued and although you still had your eyes closed you assumed that he had shrugged "I'll wake you up if you start snoring"

"I don't snore!" you defended yourself, playfully smacking him on the arm and hearing him laugh. Somehow watching him led you to remember a chain of events ending in the package you had carefully stowed in your bag and you almost jumped out of your seat the next second: "Wait, I just remembered something" you reported and went to the baggage area to rummage through your suitcase, taking just a few minutes to be back in your seat “I bought you this”

"Me?" he asked in disbelief. The others were on their own business enough to notice your conversation, making the moment a bit more private.

“I looked at it and just thought of you. Although I don't know if you're going to like it” you said shyly, handing him something wrapped in a paper bag with a store sticker on it. You had found the gift when you went shopping for your clean outfit and a part of you had been anxious all day to be able to give it to him to watch his reaction.

Reid looked at it curiously and handled it carefully, as if he were afraid it would fall apart in his fingers, until he managed to open it and took a piece of cloth from it.

"A scarf?"

“I saw you in one the other day and I thought you might like them. You know, you always wear your vests under your coats and your ties and you're always overdressed, but in a cute way” you laughed, while you pointed your hands at your body pretending to touch the pieces of his outfit "But it's okay if you don't want to wear it"

"No! I mean yes. I want to use it” he reassured you. Spencer held it out to look at it more carefully: it was purple, a stripe in the middle of patterned colored rhombuses intertwined with some embroidery of branches with leaves in black. "Did you know that the color purple is related to royalty because of how difficult it was to obtain the pigment before the Christian era? It is obvious that artificial dyes didn’t exist at that time, so everything they dyed the fabrics with had to be obtained from nature and that particular tone was quite difficult to obtain because it came from Bolinus brandaris, an extremely rare species of sea snail. To obtain 1 gram of this substance it is necessary to have 10,000 snails. And that gram was barely enough to dye a small piece. Its value and the difficulty in mass-producing it is due to the fact that the substance obtained had to be left to dry in the sun for a very precise time to be used later. Half a kilo of wool dyed in that color cost what would now be equivalent to around 300,000 euros,” he said, still holding the scarf as he rambled on. "It is also related to liturgical attire, it symbolizes power, wisdom, and is the perfect combination between the energy of red and the calm of blue”

“Oh yeah, I… I knew all that before I bought it, I didn't choose it just because I think purple brings out your eyes” you blatantly lied, making your friend laugh tenderly.

“What I meant to say is that I like it” he added, a little embarrassed by the smile and attention with which you had been observing him. You always did that when he wandered off, leaving him helpless and not knowing how to react.

"You said it has to do with wisdom, right?" you exclaimed and he nodded gently "Do you think there's some weird psychological reason why my brain knew that and linked it to you or was it just a coincidence?"

"Well, it's hard to explain..." he began to say, turning a little in his seat to be closer to you and begin a long explanation about the connections that our brain creates with things and people.

You were completely exhausted but you didn't have the heart to stop him from saying anything he had to say and you listened intently as much as your body would allow, until eventually you were lulled to sleep by the sound of Spencer's soft voice. When he stopped hearing your hums he realized that you had already fallen asleep and he moved your body carefully until you were completely reclining on the chair, so that when you woke up the physical pain of sleeping on the plane would be less. He, for his part, stayed in the seat next to you sheltered your rest, and at some point ended up asleep too.

The day after she came back from Miami, Spencer was already wearing the scarf you gave him. He had matched it with a brown coat, a vest in a darker shade of purple than the scarf, and a white shirt that together made him look perfect. Also, his well-brushed straight hair fell to the side and his tanned skin looked particularly clean.

You didn’t need to tell him anything because the smile you gave him when you looked him up and down was reason enough for him to be flattered and also proud to receive your approval. All day you watched him, a bit for the garment and a bit for the very pleasure of admiring him, and you noticed that he frequently checked that everything about him looked good, as if he was trying to impress you. Every time he spoke he avoided looking at you, only at you, but you couldn't take your eyes off him.

The day after that he used it too and the next day and the next, to the point where it was strange to see him go anywhere without it, as if it had become a part of him. After a week, while they waited in the boardroom, Elle finally had the courage to face the situation and ask Spencer why the particular choice for something for everyday use.

"It's that his girlfriend gave it to him" answered Morgan, before the brunette could say anything.

"What? No! Y/N is not my girlfriend” he said, completely embarrassed and making sure with his eyes that you weren't around to hear that.

"Oh, now I understand" JJ joined the conversation.

"You understand what?"

“You are always taking care that it doesn’t get dirty or stained”

"Yes, I don't like my clothes to get ruined"

"But more so if it's something his girlfriend gave him" insisted Morgan and in a fit that no one expected Spencer took a ball of paper and threw it at his face. That just got a collective laugh.

"I just like it. That's all”

"We all know you like her, Reid," added Hotch, who had kept quiet thus far and didn't even look up from the files. He flushed red to the ears as the rest of the team shared another laugh, and just seconds later you and Gideon walked through the door.

"Good morning"

"Good morning" answered the others, like school children before the arrival of a teacher. There was one seat left next to Morgan that Gideon took and that forced you into the only remaining chair between Elle and Spencer.

“Did I miss something interesting?” you murmured, leaning into him and smiling close to his face.

"No" he replied kindly, feeling your gaze drop from his eyes.

"Your scarf," you said, reaching out your hands to move it a little around his neck "It was out of place"

Everyone else, except for Gideon, shared knowing glances and stifled giggles as they watched the nervous way he thanked you. It didn't help too much that for the entire meeting you were completely distracted looking at your partner next to you, making the whole team wonder when the two of you were finally going to end up kissing.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #jason gideon #JJ #penelope garcía

[povlnfour]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TALES OF CANDOR (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!author!reader

summary: lando’s girlfriend has a secret identity. she’s not quite the girl next door everyone assumed, and he might just be the inspiration for more than just her instagram captions.

warnings: some hate comments

* faceclaim: mélanie, aka wailcester on ig (please imagine her as you see fit)

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris some days @ home

👤 tagged yourusername

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user i hope ur enjoying ur time off!

user no hate but like what does his gf actually do?

user literally nothing she’s jobless💀

user it’s giving🏅👷‍♀️

user lando i love u but half naked pics of ur girl isn’t helping how much we dislike her…

user what’s she reading!!!

yourusername a thousand splendid suns by khaled hosseini!!

user ofc u are. i totally believe u acc read well written books. u probably just read gossip columns but want to seem interesting🙄

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor biscuit approves of the final draft🤍

👤 tagged acatcalledbiscuit

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user HELLO??? CANDOR DOES THIS MEAN WE R GETTING A NEW BOOK

user i love that we know more abt candy’s cat than we do her…

user can’t wait to read it🥹🥹

rickriordan has to be my favorite thing you’ve written!

user RICK’S READ IT??? OH YOU KNOW ITS GOOD

user lando norris in the likes he’s just like all of us fr

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername ‘when she finally got the camera film developed, seeing his face made it all come rushing back’🦋🫧🧚🏻

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user im sorry i know we r meant to be supportive but she annoys me sm. is she just living off of lando’s money?

user omg the caption!!!

user i recognise it, where’s it from?

user it’s from ‘tales of peter rourke’ by candor!!!

user 🤢

user we get it… ur dating someone rich. now get a job!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ mclaren interview

[captions:

interviewer: what have you been up to in your break?

lando: a lot of lounging around with my girlfriend. read a few books too!

interviewer: anything good?

lando: i’m really into magical reality at the moment! that kind of it’s all normal till it’s not stuff, you know?

interviewer: any good recommendations?

lando: if you like that same genre, i recommend ‘the right side of upside’ by candor! it’s pretty recent, i finished it last week.]

comments

user he likes candor??? he’s so real for that

user KNEW I COULD TRUST HIM

user bad taste in women good taste in books

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor thank you for all the love lately on ‘the right side of upside’. insane seeing so many of you recommend it, biscuit and i are eternally grateful. love, candy🤍

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user QUEEN DID YOU SEE LANDO RECOMMENDED IT

user CANDY HAS A MAN???

user love u forever ur so talented

user CANT WAIT TO SEE WHAT YOU DO NEXT. CANT BELIEVE WE HAVE TO WAIT NOW

musingsofcandor it might be sooner than you think ;)

user UM. candor is this a soft launch?????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris got some super helpful race advice today

👤 tagged acatnamedbiscuit, musingsofcandor

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user OH MY GOD MY WORLDS ARE COLLIDING

user LANDO WE NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING IS SHE CUTE I FEEL LIKE SHES CUTE

user break up w ur gf and date candor when

musingsofcandor biscuit says he can’t be held responsible for the outcome🐾

landonorris can i hold you responsible instead, candy?

user UHHHH WHATS GOING ON HERE

user i just know y/n is feeling THREATENED

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername all mine

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user LMAOOO U STARTED SWEATING HUH

user candor could steal ur man if she really wanted to

user GIRL YOU’RE SO OBVIOUS

landonorris yours🖤

user STOP LYINGGGG

ੈ✩‧₊˚ an exclusive interview with candor : entertainment weekly

interviewer: so candor! tell us how it really feels having the world at your feet!

candor: [laughing] honestly quite normal! it’s a blessing and a curse, really, not having my identity revealed. i get to live my life without those pressures, but i don’t get to see anyone and thank them for reading!

interviewer: do you ever get the urge to approach someone reading one of your books?

candor: all the time! whenever i go browsing in book stores and see someone looking at or buying mine, i have such a temptation to scream THANK YOU at them!

interviewer: do you see a future in which you reveal your identity?

candor: maybe! there are a few of my fans who know who i am, those who attend the secret events and signings, but i’m very lucky that they all respect my privacy and haven’t shared anything further. perhaps one day soon i’ll finally let everyone in on the secret.

interviewer: and we can’t talk to you and not bring up your cat — or rather, who your cat met the other day…?

candor: oh! i’m assuming you mean lando norris? yes! he’s a pretty good friend of mine, he’s been a big support over the last few years and we found some time in our schedules last week to meet up.

interviewer: so you’re a formula 1 fan?

candor: huge fan! i’m a big mclaren girl so lando and i met through their events!

interviewer: oh fantastic! see folks reading this, she really is just like us!

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername cars going vroom vroom makes my heart go boom boom

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user lmao posting before and after candor’s interview. girl ur not subtle.

user im so sorry but ur clearly so threatened it’s hilarious

user i don’t get all the hate in here??? she’s just in love n happy?

user shes a gold digger

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ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor told you it wouldn’t be long🫧 ‘thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat’ will be with you next friday. a lot of love poured into this one over the past few years, i just couldn’t wait any longer to give it to you🤍

already a member on my website? check your emails🦋

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user WHDHSJSJSJSJS

user OH MY GOD ITS HAPPENING

user THE EMAILLLLL🥹

user candy omg where do you live that looks so pretty!!!!

musingsofcandor monaco !!

landonorris 🖤

user lando using the black heart and candor using the white… i’m sorry to his gf (not really) but they’re meant to be

ੈ✩‧₊˚ user just posted a photo

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user the best day of my life!!! thank you so much candor for being the absolute sweetest human and taking time to talk to each and every one of us! i cannot wait to read thomasin jeffe, the cat, and the diplomat🥹🤍

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user YOU MET HERRRRE???

user WHO IS SHE TELL TELL TELL

user candor asks us not to share her identity so i’m gonna respect that but LET ME TELL YOU I WAS SHOCKED

user i recognise her from just that inch of her face but i can’t tell whERE FROM

musingsofcandor it was WONDERFUL to meet you! i hope you enjoy the story🤍

user wish people on twitter were as kind as this,,, there’s photos of her going around :/

ੈ✩‧₊˚ f1wags just posted a photo

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f1wags the internet has been in PIECES after famous author candor’s recent book signing. photos have emerged of the popular anonymous author from the event, revealing her to be none other than LANDO NORRIS’ GIRLFRIEND, Y/N! turns out, she has a job after all👀 (pictures taken from y/n’s instagram!)

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user i… cannot believe this

user see. when y’all were hating on her you were secretly worshipping her

user @ everyone who was an arse to y/n… KARMA IS A BITCH!

user WHAT????

user HOLY SHIT LANDO HAS BEEN DATING MY FAV AUTHOR THIS WHOLE TIME????

ੈ✩‧₊˚ yourusername just posted a photo

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yourusername well. the secrets out. it’s been a long few years, but it’s nice to not have to hold it in any more.

both my accounts will remain active for separate purposes, but i’m excited to be able to introduce you to candor as she is in her whole truth — just like her name suggests🤍

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user ironically this is exactly how i picture marian elsie from thomasine jeffe looking. full fairy

user i am. so sorry. so so so sorry. i know nothing can ever compare for the things we said but i really am

yourusername thank you. no hard feelings on my end🤍

ੈ✩‧₊˚ landonorris just posted a photo

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landonorris my candy. it may not have been how you intended, but i’m glad i get to show off how proud of you i am.

i’ve watched you as both candor and y/n for a while now, and i love both versions of you entirely. i cannot wait to see what you do now you have the freedom to be whoever you want to.

and hey, pretty cool to be able to say i’m the inspiration behind some of your characters, huh?🖤

ps. so glad i can finally share photos of mY CAT. even if he does hate me biscuit is MINE as well

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user love the clarification that the most important thing to lando is sharing photos of his cat😭😭

user MORE PICS OF BISCUIT PLEASE

user i’ve always been in love with her i can say that confidently

user oh so you’re a successful fanboy

yourusername biscuit told me to tell u ur smelly for using him for likes

landonorris you literally said to me omg i can post about biscuit now YOU FEEL THE SAME DONT LIE

ੈ✩‧₊˚ musingsofcandor just posted a photo

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musingsofcandor i’ve had a bit of inspiration for some time🤍

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user MOM AND DAD

user i can’t believe this. my worlds are colliding

user I KNEW CAPTAIN ROURKE FELT FAMILIAR IN THE TALES OF PETER ROURKE

user i can’t believe my fav ever love interest is based on lando….

landonorris i love you. thanks for immortalising me🖤

————

a/n: hello hello! another one whilst i recover!

so this was based on an anon request and i have had so much fUN writing it!!!! whilst i don’t normally do requests generally due to being overwhelmed easily, this one stood out to me as i Love books so i was inspired. to the anon who requested, i hope this is what you imagined🤍

in terms of further requests! whilst i can’t promise i’ll do them, if you have any pressing ideas you think would work with my style , do feel free to send them in ! i always love to hear your ideas (and any thoughts on my works!! please send feedback as well!!) and will try gradually to get through some🤍

fun fact: all the book titles are based on actual books i have written hehe

fun fact pt2: yes her pseudonym is chosen bc i watched divergent last night

taglist (found in pinned post): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35

#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris au #mclaren #lando norris blurb #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot #lando norris smau

[hellfireghoul]

Partners, Roommates, Best Friends

RE4!Leon x f!Reader

Summary: Yourself and your partner Leon have just returned back from a harrowing mission overseas in Spain. The both of you are severely affected by what you'd seen out there, both developing insomnia that only the other can seem to cure. You share a job, a home, a friendship, and now a bed.

Warnings: 18+ minors dni. Smut.

Words: 3.8k

Notes: This is pure filth tbh nothing much more to add lmao apart from I need help

You and Leon had been partners for the past two years. Partners, best friends, roommates. Everything you did, you did together. There were pros and cons to this of course, the pros being the two of you knew every little thing about each other, and the cons being that you knew every little thing about each other - hence knowing how to get on the other's last nerve. However frequently that may happen, tonight was not one of those nights.

It had been just short of two weeks since you’d both returned to the U.S, after being on an assignment in Spain. It had been the hardest thing you’d ever experienced in your career so far. You didn’t need to have a conversation with Leon to know he felt the same. The tired faint expression on his face, and once shining blue eyes now dark and glazed told you a story without having to ask. The two of you had barely spoken about it since getting back. It was kind of an unspoken rule between the two of you usually, to never really talk about work. You assumed this was a fairly normal thing, wanting to keep work at work. The only time you and Leon ever discussed anything related to your jobs was when you both needed to. Sometimes it was good to debrief, after all the information was strictly confidential but seeing as how you were partners, it didn’t prevent you from talking about it freely to each other. Just one of the perks of being partnered together you supposed. 

This hadn’t happened this time though. Instead you’d both simply gone about your daily lives, but both much quieter and more subdued. You noticed Leon was much more clingy, he wanted to be close to you at all times. This wasn’t completely out of character, but the intensity flagged up with you almost immediately. It started on the first Monday night since you’d gotten back on the Friday. Curled up watching a movie and he’d suddenly come and shuffled up close to you, and gently placed his arm on the back of the sofa and asked if it was okay. As soon as you’d nodded, his arm was draped around you and pulling you tight to his chest. 

That’s when it started, and then it turned into hand holding whilst eating dinner and buddying up to go to the laundry room. Which then progressed into naps together on the couch during the day time. You knew full well neither of you slept at night. This wasn’t typical friend behaviour, friends didn’t hold hands having dinner or cuddle on the couch but, it’s what you both needed. 

The clock had just struck twelve am as you climbed into your cold sheets on a damp and drizzly Friday evening. Two weeks since your return, and every time the silence fell and you closed your eyes you were back there again. Spain. 

You couldn’t escape it, it was like running from a never ending nightmare playing on a loop in your brain. You’d been staying up for as long as you could, hoping that when you finally settled into bed you’d be tired enough just to switch off and sleep. You were always too hopeful. And always wrong.

You tossed and turned for what felt like an eternity, any tiny disturbance making you jolt your eyes open and jump. Something hit the window with a crack that made you almost rise two inches off the bed. You shot up, your hand immediately outstretched reaching for the pistol you kept in your nightstand drawer. 

Your fingers gripped around the cold, heavy metal until you saw the loose bit of tree branch hanging from the window awning. Your chest relaxed, and you cursed under your breath at your own stupidity.

Everything made you on edge nowadays, even though you knew you were safe at home. You couldn’t be any safer if you were completely honest with yourself, knowing that Leon slept a mere door across from you was a huge comfort. Slept is a loose term, you would bet money on the fact he wasn’t asleep at this moment in time. However, he did almost act like your personal guard dog, whether you were on the job or doing your grocery shopping together.

The rain grew heavier outside, the pattern on the windows normally added to a serene atmosphere, the ambient sound usually lulling you into a peaceful sleep. It wasn’t working its usual magic however, you feared nothing would.

Sighing, you flung the sheets off you, determined to swallow your pride and do what you should’ve done two weeks ago. You needed a good night's sleep, and the only time you could ever get some sleep lately was during the day, wrapped up with your roommate. It was pathetic really, you thought to yourself. You’d never been this affected after a mission before, and you’d seen some gruesome shit, but this past assignment had been something else entirely for the both of you. You’d witnessed Leon almost die a million times, and those memories flashed up every time you closed your eyes and then continued like a reel you couldn’t turn off in your nightmares. In your dreams you weren’t there to save him, you were simply a helpless onlooker. You just had to stand there and watch.  

Wrapping your arms around your body in response to the chilly air, your bare feet pattered across the wood floor as you crept out of your dark room. You eased the door open gingerly, trying to prevent any loud creaking as you slipped through the gap and into the hallway. Leon’s bedroom was directly opposite yours, and you hesitated for a moment at the door, trying to listen for any soft snoring that indicated he may be asleep. The last thing you wanted to do was disturb him if he had by some miracle managed to drift off, he was a light sleeper and you knew the second you opened his door he’d be awake in a flash. 

Listening for a moment, you were met with complete silence, so you decided to go ahead and gently twist his door handle. Leon’s room was in complete darkness, apart from a slither of moonlight that cast a stripe across the room from the tiny gap in his curtains.

You crept in as silently as you could, making sure to close the door behind you with a gentle click. You saw movement from the bed, a shadow sitting up and you heard Leon sigh from the mound of sheets. 

“Hey, it’s only me.” You whispered. “Sorry if I scared you.” 

Leon exhaled a deep breath from his nose, and sat up from his bed, leaning over he pulled the curtains back a tiny bit more, revealing more of the room under the moonlight. You could see him now, and you were very grateful it was still dark enough that he wouldn’t be able to tell you were blushing. He was sitting on his bed, shirtless and in pyjama shorts that hugged his hips in a way that made you want to stare. You’d seen Leon almost naked plenty of times and it never failed to cause a blush to creep up your cheeks. 

“No, you didn’t don’t worry. I heard you get out of bed. You can’t sleep either?” Leon muttered, his voice low matching your whisper.

“No.” You responded, glumly.

He sat back properly in bed, and pulled the covers back, patting the mattress. Neither of you spoke, instead you simply obliged, silently accepting his offer by climbing under the sheets, the unoccupied side of the bed cold and crisp. Leon adjusted, shuffling himself so he was propped up on one arm and you lay on your back staring at the ceiling. Your shoulder was grazing his torso, and the warmth radiating from his body was exceedingly comforting. There was a lingering, but comfortable silence. Just being in one and other's company helped to relax the other. 

“A tree branch scared me.” You suddenly said into the darkness.

“A tree branch?” Leon asked.

“Yes, it hit my window and I nearly had my gun out and everything. I’ve never felt so stupid Leon.” You huffed, and laughed humourlessly at yourself.

“I get it, I’ve been on edge too.”

“When d’you think it will stop?” You whispered, more seriously. 

“I dunno, I really don’t know.”

Leon sighed, and brought his free arm over both your hands that were resting on your stomach. You froze a little at the contact, and Leon picked up on it immediately, because of course he did. He was so ridiculously in tune with your mannerisms and moods, he practically knew how you were feeling before you did. Leon immediately retracted his hand.

“Sorry, ‘there something wrong?” He asked, tentatively.

You took a sharp, shaky inhale of breath. Nothing was wrong with what he just did, and you weren’t sure why you’d tensed up like that. You and Leon were touchy most of the time, especially in the recent weeks, but it was in a friendly, overly comfortable way. Or so you’d convinced yourself. But there was something about lying next to him in his bed, bare skin almost daring to touch and feeling the heat radiating from his bare form that had everything feeling different. You suddenly felt as if you had nowhere to hide. You couldn’t play off a subtle touch as a friendly gesture. Everything felt all the more intense. 

“No, no. It’s okay.” You reassured him, and you turned to face him, one hand tucked under your head as you met his gaze. 

“I’m just tense, is all.” You smiled weakly, his piercing blue eyes never leaving yours. 

“You won’t mind if I do this then?” Leon asked softly, as he rested a palm on your side and squeezed reassuringly. The contact felt comforting but was stirring up something else inside you you weren’t ready to address quite yet.

“I can’t stop the nightmares.” Leon said, suddenly. His confession shocked you slightly, he wasn’t one to share much, even to you. He’s gotten more generous over the years when it came to giving you an insight into his psyche, but it was still a rare occurrence that shocked you whenever it happened. 

“You too?” 

“Yeah,” Leon chuckled dryly, devoid of any humour. “You wanna talk about it?”

You sighed for a moment, and were very aware of how he’d begun tracing small circles on your thigh with his calloused thumb. You hesitated for a minute, before saying, 

“I see you die every single time I fall asleep.”

Leon didn’t respond for a second, he was clearly processing what you’d just said but didn’t seem to be phased by your confession. His thumb was still tracing small circles.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, sincerely.

“I’m just terrified I’m going to lose you Leon.” You breathed, through a well of tears forming. What you didn’t know, was Leon had the exact same nightmares, except it was you he couldn’t save. The words broke Leon’s heart, and the hand resting on your thigh soon applied some pressure, pulling you in closer to him so your bodies were flush.

“I’m not going anywhere sweetheart, I promise.” Leon soothed, and kissed the top of your head firmly whilst you found yourself sobbing into his chest. 

“I can’t stand the thought Leon, it scares me so much.” You sobbed quietly against his skin, and all he could do was whisper small “I know,”’s and “it’s okay I’m not going anywhere,” as he stroked your hair.

He gripped you tight, and it took you a  moment to gain your composure before you were gazing up through teary eyes at the man next to you. 

“What about you? What do you dream about?” You asked, your voice hoarse. Leon paused for a moment, contemplating your question and how to phrase the answer. 

“You. The same situation but in reverse. I’m not fast enough or I’m not close enough or I’m not good enough, and I lose you.” Leon answered honestly, and your eyes softened but your brows knitted upwards in an expression of guilt and sadness. 

“Oh, Leon…” was all you could muster as you stared at him. “I’m not going anywhere either.” You gave his arm a gentle squeeze, and that was how it started. Before you knew it, Leon was leaning towards you and placing his lips on yours. He kissed you gently, his lips feather light on your own as he cupped your jaw to tilt your head up to him ever so slightly. It was like something clicked. You knew you’d always felt something for Leon, but you’d always feared taking it that step further, fearing it would ruin what you had or that it just wouldn’t feel right. But this, this felt right. It felt natural, normal.

You took initiative, deepening the kiss by propping yourself up on one elbow and pinning his chest flat to the bed with your other hand. Leon responded almost immediately, his hands finding your hips and tracing lines up your back as you hooked a leg over his waist. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him completely addictive as you entangled a hand in his hair, earning a low groan from him that caused heat to pool between your legs. Your hips began to move involuntarily, grinding gently against him that caused you both to shudder.

Leon held his hands against your shoulders for a moment, breaking away from the kiss and he pushed your hair out of your face.

“You’re so beautiful.” He breathed, his pupils blown out in lust and his lips pink and wet. It was a gorgeous sight. You didn’t have the chance to respond before he was pulling you back into the kiss, but this time, he angled you in such a way that meant he could flip you on your back. He towered over you, his hair brushing against your face as he peppered doting kisses along your jaw.

You sighed, suppressing a moan as he worked his way down your body. He reached your breasts, and he looked up at you through hooded eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Leon asked, his gaze never leaving yours. You nodded, and Leon wasted no time continuing. He lifted your his old shirt with ease, taking one of your breasts in his mouth and sucking gently. Your hand shot into his hair, intertwining your fingers in the strands and giving them a gentle pull to encourage him to be a little rougher. He got the hint, his other hand massaging your other breast applying a pleasurable amount of pressure whilst his mouth and tongue got to work sucking and biting your nipple. You desperately wanted to touch him, but your hands had no chance of reaching where he needed you in the position you were in. You reached between the two of you anyway, your fingertips just about reaching the tip of his waistband, indicating what you were desperate to do. Leon pulled his mouth away, causing you to mewl slightly at the lack of contact. He moved your hand away and gently placed it back at your side, not taking his hand away yet like he didn’t trust you not to move.

“I’m nowhere near done with you yet.” Leon spoke in a rough, low voice that sent your head spinning. 

He continued down your body, placing kisses along your stomach before settling himself on his front and parting your legs. The way his breath felt against your clothed pussy made your skin flush hot. Leon hooked his arms around your thighs so they sat on his shoulders, and began placing more doting kisses along the inside of the soft flesh.

You tried your best not to squirm as he fingered the line of your panties, pulling the now soaked fabric to the side to allow him access. He groaned slightly at the sight of you glistening wet for him. 

“Fuck baby.” He hissed under his breath, before placing a sloppy kiss on your clit making you gasp as shockwaves of pleasure rippled through your stomach. He placed another kiss on your clit, harsher this time causing your legs to clamp together. Before you knew it, Leon was back up on his knees and pulling your underwear fully off now, seemingly growing impatient with the fabric.

All bets were off the table now. Leon returned to his position on his stomach and threw your legs back over his shoulders, burying his face between your thighs and getting to work with his tongue. Your senses were completely overloaded, all you could think about was Leon, and a string of his name rolled off your tongue in throaty whispers as he sucked and licked in all the right places. Your hand shot to his hair once again, combing your fingers through the strands to massage his scalp. It was a desperate plea for him not to stop. You pulled on the strands which made him groan again, the vibrations reverberating against you which intensified everything he was doing with his tongue. You gasped, sitting up slightly and opening your eyes to see his stare fixed completely on you, drinking in your responsiveness. He was determined to please you, desperate to know exactly what you liked.

He pulled away for a second, his thumb immediately going to rub small circles on your clit as a substitute for his mouth. His blue eyes darted from you and back to your centre, before he sunk a digit inside you causing your jaw to fall slack. 

“Oh my god.“ you breathed, your head falling automatically back onto the mattress, and you heard Leon chuckle lowly.

“You good, sweetheart?” He said, lowly.

You just about managed a nod, your eyes still closed and mouth slightly agape as the coil in your stomach began to wind tighter with every touch. 

“Use your words baby.” 

“Yes, yeah-“ You breathed quickly, eyes shooting open, fearing he might stop. Leon chuckled softly, before his mouth was back on your clit and he added a second finger that caused your back to arch involuntarily off the bed.

Leon curled his fingers upwards, hitting that spot inside you that caused you to lose all sense of self.

“Fuck Leon, right there oh my god.” You moaned, and you only got louder as his fingers got faster, working you with expertise you weren’t used to. You were so close, the feeling in your stomach building and building until it finally snapped. A string of cries escaped your lips as you finished, Leon’s hand pressed down on your stomach to keep you still as he continued to finger you through it. 

You were still coming to your senses before you even realised Leon was now kneeling in front of you, lining himself up with your entrance and pumping himself a few times as he teased you. Your head shot up from the mattress when you realised what he was doing, and you immediately whined, reaching down between the two of you to impatiently guide him to sink into you.

“Eager much?” Leon smiled, his voice low and rough and it continued to make you dizzy. 

“Please.” You begged with doe eyes up at him, but he just laughed softly and took both your hands in his, proceeding to pin them above your head with one hand whilst the other stroked his cock again. 

“Stay like this for me, sweetheart.” He breathed against you, before pushing into you painfully slow. He stayed still for a moment, and you both moaned as he bottomed out inside you. 

“Please start moving.” You whined.

“Since you asked so nicely…” Leon breathed, his right arm still pinning both your wrists above your head and just like that, he was snapping his hips into yours at a rate that was fatal. The sound of your wetness and his hips slapping into you filled the room. The gasps and moans that left your mouth as your jaw fell slack once again were obscene, you were propping your head up slightly, watching as he pounded into you and it made your head swim.

“Dirty girl, like to watch, do you?” Leon whispered through panting breaths as he continued to fuck you senseless. All you could do was pathetically nod, as your eyes rolled back and you let the pleasure overtake you. The familiar tightness was building again, you instinctively snaked your hand between the two of you and began circling your clit. Leon made a noise not dissimilar to a growl, as you clenched around him at the additional pleasure of your clit being stimulated.

“Fuck.” He groaned. “Look at you, going all dumb on my cock.” Leon brought his other hand up and rested it around your throat, squeezing gently and this almost pushed you over the edge. You fluttered again around his cock, earning a low moan from his lips.

“You like my hand around your throat like this, baby?” He got the hint, you fucking loved it. He squeezed slightly harder on your neck as his pace increased, fucking you deeper than you even thought possible as the head of his cock kissed your sweet spot with every thrust. 

You were a mess, writhing beneath him, eyes rolled into the back of your head and babbling nonsense as your climax grew nearer. Leon was close too, his thrusts becoming more stuttered and inconsistent. Your noises got even louder as you gripped onto the arm that held your throat, the pleasure now becoming overwhelming and the band in your stomach snapped again. Another string of cries, mixed with a mantra of Leon’s name left your mouth as you came, the spasming and squeezing around him triggering his own orgasm. 

He emptied himself into you, groaning your name and panting into your ear as he slowly fucked you through your orgasm as well as his own. After a moment, he slowed almost to a complete stop before sliding out of you and laying on his back. The two of you lay there, getting your breath back and coming down from your highs. 

“Why the fuck haven’t we been doing that this whole time?” You said after a few moments. Leon laughed, his broad chest rising up and down as he did and you still couldn’t help but stare as a sheen of sweat glistened on his skin.

“I don’t know, maybe because we’re both idiots?” He grinned, resting his hand on his stomach whilst tucking the other one behind his head. “I’m sorry if I was a little rough back there.” 

You frowned, turning to face him now.

“Not at all. It was fun.” You reassured him, taking in his beautiful face as he still remained laying on his back, glancing up at the ceiling. 

After a moment, he broke the silence. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t strike you as the type to get off on choking.” 

Your mouth opened in shock and you slapped his arm playfully, and Leon just started chuckling and turned on his side to snuggle into you, his laughter was infectious and you couldn’t help but join in. 

“You tired?” He said, lowly.

“Not really.” 

“Good, ‘cause I’m not done with you yet.”

-

#Leon s Kennedy #Leon Kennedy #Leon Kennedy x reader #Leon s Kennedy x reader #resident evil #resident evil 4 #re4 remake #re4r #leon scott kennedy #Leon Kennedy smut

[lustfulslxt]

Ruin Me - Chris Sturniolo

summary : chris accidentally sends y/n a text meant for nate, ultimately fessing his desire for her. y/n takes action into her own hands.

warnings : swearing, smut, slight daddy kink

a/n : based off of these texts

—

The silence feels incredibly loud as she stares down at her phone with her jaw dropped. She can’t even count how many times she’s reread the last few messages she’s received from Chris, who’s only just a story below her.

She has been spending the past few nights over at the triplets’ house, which is a common occurrence, seeing as her and Chris are best friends. She never once thought her presence was anything of a burden for any of them. Her mind immediately ran with the worst with Chris’ first few messages.

However, as she continuously reads the last couple over and over, she can feel a foreign feeling building inside her. A feeling she’s never felt for Chris until now, or more so one that she’s kept beneath the surface in favor of their friendship.

The longer she takes to respond, the more anxious she makes herself. She’s conflicted. Does she go downstairs? Does she text him back? Does she set boundaries?

Her decision is made when she finds herself subconsciously making her way down the stairs leading to his room, fully ready to give in to temptation.

As she stands outside his door, her heart and mind are racing. Is she really doing this? Before she can talk herself out of it, her fist is knocking on the wooden door.

On the other side, Chris is frozen looking at his phone. Read 10:56 PM. It’s currently 11:10 PM. His nerves are bubbling and anxiety is brewing in his stomach. He can’t help but feel like he ruined everything.

As soon as he hears knocking on his door, his face drains of color. He can only assume it’s Y/N. With slight hesitation, he makes his way over and opens the door.

“Hi.” She whispers with a small smile.

“Hi.” He breathes, then continues, “I’m sorry if I overstepped. I never wanted to make you uncomfortable or anything along those lines. We can just forget I ever said anything.”

“Can I come in?” She asks, ignoring his statements.

He opens his mouth, only is at a loss for words, and opts for opening the door wider for entry. She strolls in, stopping in the middle of the room, and turns back to face him. He slowly shuts the door, his heart rapidly pounding in his chest, unsure of which direction their conversation will go.

“So-“ He begins, only to pause because he’s waiting on her to say something.

“Do you talk about me often?” She asks.

He stammers, “W-what?”

“You said you meant to send that to Nate.” She reminds him, “Do you do that often?”

His cheeks grow hot as he scratches the back of his head. “Um, kind of. Yeah, I guess so.”

“Can I see?” She asks him, eyebrows raising.

His eyes widen, his lips curving inwards. “I-I’d rather you not.”

All she does is nod, standing there in silence.

“I’m sorry I made things awkward.” He groans, tossing his head back at his own stupidity.

She walks over to his bed and sits on it, kicking her feet. He only watches her, attempting to get a feel for what she’s thinking. Usually, he can read her through and through, but he’s much too nervous right now to even comprehend anything other than the fact that he’s screwed things up.

“Boy, stop standing there and come sit down.” She rolls her eyes.

He quickly shuffles over to the bed, sitting next to her, but makes sure to leave at least a foot gap between them. She glances at the space and rolls her eyes once more, sliding over until their bodies are aligned side by side.

“Can you please say something?” Chris asks, eyes wide. “I’m like freaking out over here and you’re not saying a single word. Let me know what’s up.”

“I wanna see what you say about me.” She repeats, nodding towards his phone beside them. “Either that, or the pictures that I know you have.”

“Y/N, come on!” He whines.

“Okay, fine.” She shrugs, standing up to leave.

He quickly wraps his hand around her wrist, tugging her back to the bed. As soon as she’s seated, his fingers are working on his phone, reluctantly pulling up what she wants to see.

He gives her a nervous glance, only receiving a pointed look from her. Taking a deep breath, he slowly gives the phone to her, which she eagerly takes.

As she scrolls through his camera roll, her mouth slowly falls open. At this point, Chris is pacing in front of her, his breath seemingly caught in his throat.

His phone is completely loaded with numerous pictures of her. Some are just selfies of them together, her alone. Others are random off guards that one would take of their best friend. Then, there are the not so normal ones.

Y/N looks up at Chris, causing him to halt his movement under her stare. He turns to her with a sheepish look on his face, and she can’t help but smirk a bit.

“Out with it.” He rolls his eyes, laying his hand out as if indicating for her to speak her mind.

“You’re a little freak.” She giggles.

He chokes on his saliva, as her response was unexpected. “Okay, can we move past this now?”

“No.”

“No?” He repeats, his face falling.

She shakes her head with a hum, “I could’ve swore you said you want me convulsing under you?”

She goes to pull her phone out to show him the messages when he quickly steps forward, stopping her from pulling up the facts to prove her statement. His hands are holding hers in place, their eyes locking.

It feels as if everything around them stopped, like they’re the only two things that exist. Their breaths become uneven due to their close proximity. Their heartbeats racing to become one. In this moment, nothing else matters.

Y/N swiftly tosses her phone aside and grabs a fistful of his shirt, yanking him down onto her. Their lips meet for the first time ever, finally crossing that forbidden threshold.

Relief floods through Chris, soon being replaced by excitement and desire. He’s been longing for this moment for what seems like forever. The feeling is surreal, he can’t help but put everything into their kiss. Y/N feels almost content, like this is that one thing she’s been missing in life.

Their kiss soon escalates, growing hot and needy, the two of them desperate for one another. Chris places one of his hands on her neck, softly gripping it, his other hand setting on the bed beside her head. Y/N runs her hands up his torso, wrapping them around his neck and moving them into his hair.

Chris quickly breaks away, “I want this, you, more than anything, but I don’t want to ruin anything between us.”

Y/N’s face flushes a rosy color as she stares up at him. Her hand meets his cheek, softly caressing it as she admires his beauty. She leans into him, planting multiple soft open mouthed kisses on his lips. She places one more, deep and passionate, savoring the taste of him on her tongue, and pulls away, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.

“Ruin me.”

Those two simple words went straight through Chris, traveling all the way down to his dick. It begins throbbing with need, hardening beneath his pants. He stares into her eyes for another second before slamming his mouth on hers, yearning for all of her, and gladly accepting everything she’s offering.

His grip around her neck tightens, pulling her impossibly closer as their kiss grows hungry. Their tongues meet in a wet and sloppy frenzy, tangling together in an intricate way. Heavy breathing fills the air, along with the smacking of their lips.

Desperate for more, Y/N bucks her hips up into his, the feeling of his erection digging into her core, eliciting a moan from her mouth. Chris’ eyes damn near roll to the back of his head from the sound she makes, and he’s determined to hear more of it.

His mouth pulls away from hers, strings of saliva keeping them connected. He begins kissing down her jaw, his tongue gliding between his lips. He travels lower and nips at her neck, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. He breathes her in, becoming intoxicated by her sweet scent. The smell of her peach shampoo and her vanilla body wash consume his senses, causing his mouth to water. His teeth graze the sensitive skin, sucking and biting on it, bruising it by the time he pulls away.

Y/N is left breathless beneath him, her mind foggy with lust. She can feel her heart thumping in her chest and she’s sure he can feel it too. Her hands stay tangled in his hair, holding him flush against her as he works her neck. Her skin is burning with desire and she’s never been so pleased with her impulsive decisions the way that she is right now.

Chris’ hands slip under her shirt, running up her abdomen. She feels like she’s on fire beneath his touch. His hands make their way over her bra, harshly squeezing her breasts, pulling another moan from her throat. He’s practically getting drunk off of her sounds, soaking in every little whimper and whine that falls from her lips.

He pulls back from her, swiftly removing his shirt, his chain dangling around his neck. Y/N sits up to remove hers, with his eager assistance. His hands go behind her back, unbuckling her bra, letting her shake it off her arms. He quickly flips her over so she’s bent over the side of bed.

Leaning over her, his erection presses into the back of her thigh, causing her to moan in anticipation. He moves her hair to the side and presses his lips against the back of her neck, causing goosebumps to form on her skin. She’s barely holding it together with the way his entire being consumes her. She’s relishing in the way his mouth feels on her, the way his hands caress her, the way his needy cock is pressed so hard into her, desperate to be buried inside her sopping core.

Chris continues working down her back, his tongue gliding over her smooth skin, nibbling on it every which way as he goes lower and lower. His fingers hook into the waistband of her bottoms, swiftly pulling them down, along with her panties. He tugs them further, until he’s able to pull them completely off and discard them to the side.

He pauses, taking in the way her glistening pussy peaks from between her thighs. Her plump ass looks so squeezable and he just wants to lose himself in her. His hands engulf her cheeks, kneading with the perfect amount of pressure, slowly pulling them apart as he massages them in circles. He can see her lips opening, exposing her entrance, as he does so, causing him to groan in satisfaction.

“Can’t wait to feel you around me.” He hums, spreading her legs apart to see more of her.

She only lets out a whine as the cool air meets her hot center. Her hands grip the sheets beneath her as her pussy clenches around nothing. Chris admires her desperation from behind, a proud smirk pulling to his lips.

He leans down and sinks his teeth into the plush skin of her ass, eliciting a pleased moan from her. His tongue slides between his teeth, soothing the sharp pain. Peppering wet kisses along the fat, he brings his hand to her inner thigh, slowly trailing upwards towards her core.

“D-don’t tease.” Y/N whines, pushing herself back into him.

“Shh, gonna make you feel so good.” He mumbles against her ass.

He latches his mouth on the plump tissue, sucking down and biting it, leaving purple and red bruises. His fingers slither up against her pussy, sliding along her folds, pulling another lewd moan from her.

He gathers her juices with every swipe of his fingers, leaving her legs damn near trembling. She’s never needed something like the way she’s needing him, tears almost pricking in her eyes from her desperation. Finally, he presses two fingers into her entrance, a long moan falling from her lips from the way he fills her.

“So fucking wet for me.” He groans, bringing his face closer to her heat.

His tongue flicks over her outer folds, her arousal coating his tongue, causing him to hum at the delightful taste. Pulling his fingers out, he replacing them with his tongue. Continuous moans leave Y/N’s mouth as she indulges in the way he devours her.

His hands grip her ass, spreading it as he dives in deeper. His tongue slides down to her clit, lathering it with his saliva. His nose presses against her entrance and he can’t help but breathe in her natural scent, his cock throbbing from pleasant smell.

“F-fuck, so good.” She cries out, pressing her face into the mattress.

Licking all of her juices up, he sucks her folds before pulling back, leaving her breathless, whiny, and dissatisfied.

“Can’t wait any longer, baby.” He breathes, “Need to feel your sweet little pussy squeezing my cock.”

He pulls at the drawstring of his sweats, loosening them enough to pull them and his boxers down. His dick springs out, bouncing up against his abdomen. He hisses from the cool air, eager to feel the wet warmth her pussy provides. He grabs the base of his member, pumping it a few times, before swiping it in her folds to lubricate it, and aligning it with her entrance.

He slowly sinks into her, moans emitting from both of their mouths. She squeezes her eyes shut from the slight pain as he bottoms out, filling her up entirely. His hands tightly grip her hips, throwing his head back from the sensation her soft walls provide.

“So tight.” He grunts, slowly pumping in and out of her. “God, I knew you’d feel good, but this is unreal.”

Y/N moans from the feeling of him fucking into her, along with his naughty words. She can’t help but clench around him, pushing back into him further.

Chris picks up the pace, his pelvis slamming into her ass as he buries himself in her. The sound of their skin slapping fills the room, their pants and moans adding onto it.

His hand travels up her back, wrapping around her hair, yanking her head back. He uses it as leverage to speed up his thrusts, digging deeper into her core. His tip repeatedly kisses her cervix, pulling loud pornographic moans from her mouth.

Her face contorts in pleasure, her body ridden with euphoria as he fucks into her so good. He leans over her, his bare chest firmly pressed against her back. His hand wraps around her chin, pulling her head back as he looks down at her, admiring how fucked out she looks. Drool falls from her mouth, her eyes rolling back as he digs deep.

“Mmm. You love being fucked like this, don’t you?” He groans into her ear.

She cries out in broken moans with every thrust, “Y-yes, yes. You feel so good, so so good daddy.”

His pace falters at the name that fell from her lips, taken aback by her sudden use of it. It ignites something animalistic in him, causing him to thrust deeper and harder. He lets her head fall back into the mattress, pressing both of his hands into her back as he drills into her.

Tears fall from her eyes at the overwhelming pleasure, she could practically feel him in her stomach. Their bodies glisten with perspiration, their skin sticking together everything they connect.

“Fuck, so good. This pussy was made for me, no?” He grunts as he continues pounding into her.

Y/N’s mind is hazy with bliss, unable to form a single word in response to his question, only giving him loud moans that fuel his ego and bring him closer to his release.

“I asked you-” He starts, rough strokes in between his words. “-a question.”

“Nghh. Y-you, just for you.” She forces out through her moans.

“Oh, I know it, baby. All for me.” He moans, “Just wanted to hear you say it.”

The building knot in her stomach tightens before snapping, bringing on her orgasm. Her legs tremble beneath him as she clenches around him, her juices pouring out of her and coating his dick, producing a squelching sound as he pumps in and out of her.

“Such a dirty girl.” He pants.

Hips sputter and his pace grows sloppy and erratic, his release sneaking up on him. His hands grip her ass, squeezing it as he moves it up and down against him. His stomach tightens, his thighs slightly shaking as his hot cum spurts out, painting her inner walls. Both of them moaning from the feelings, he stills his movements after a few more pumps.

He slowly pulls out, wincing from the feelings and collapses right next to her. She turns her head to look at him, her face flushed red and her damp hair sticking to her forehead.

“Still look as good as ever.” He smiles at her, pulling her hair from her face.

“You owe me $50.” She breathes, matching his smile.

He stares at her in shock, “Wait, what?!”

“Plan B, dummy.” She giggles.

“Hm. Now it’s dummy, two minutes ago it was daddy.” He teases.

—

taglist : @luv4kozume @worldlxvlys @flowerxbunnie @sturniolowhore @creamoncreamoncream2 @lvrsparadise @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 @tillies33ssss @mattsfavwh3re @its-jennarose @sophssturn @defnotayonna @ksskianshd @d0wnbad4chris @braindead4l @avasturn

#lustfulslxt #joss speaks #sturniolo triplets #sturniolos #the sturniolos #chris sturniolo #imagine #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo x reader

[just-jordie-things]

let the light in - ryomen sukuna

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

word count: 15.5k warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, reader has a cursed technique but i don't describe it bc i'm lazy, she's actually pretty weak in this ngl i needed her to be a bit of a damsel in distress. sukuna is pretty out of character but he has to be. also sukuna can take control of yuji's body when he's asleep bc i decided so ok it's my first time writing for him so bare with me. summary: reincarnation!au with a twist. in every life sukuna finds you in, he has to remind you of who you once were- and who you once were to each other. it's a burden, but it's one he's carried for centuries and he wouldn't have it any other way. more info: slowburn enemies to ?? to lovers, sukuna is hopelessly in love with reader its very fun ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ ooh let the light in // at your back door yelling cause i wanna come in // ooh turn your light on // look at us, you and i back at it again ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Finding her in this life was the first thing on his mind as soon as his consciousness was manifested.  Just like every era before this one, she’s always his first thought.

The second thought was- what the fuck? 

In all of his centuries walking this earth, he’d never been quite out of body like this.  As in, in a completely different body from his own.  And much to his displeasure, he’d manifested inside of some brat jujutsu sorcerer that was a bit too strong for his own good.  No worries, though, after they tracked down a few more of his cursed fingers he’d be able to take proper control and Itadori Yuji would cease to exist as soon as Sukuna regained his full strength.

So for some time, he played nice.  Or, as nice as he could, that was.  He sat back in his domain and waited.  He’d never been one with a strong sense of patience- he may have been a man once but he was a curse now- but if it meant strengthening his chances in being reunited with her sooner, then he would play the long game.  Besides, he could have some fun torturing the brat and his friends for a little while, right? No harm in some chaos and carnage along the way.  He would need good stories to tell her when they were together again, anyways.

There were times where the brat began to wonder what it was Sukuna was doing there, quietly tucked into his domain.  On the rare occasion that he didn’t rear his head into conversation with a nasty comment coming from a mouth materialized on his cheek or the back of his hand.  Times passed where Yuji would cringe awaiting Sukuna’s inevitable filth, but instead he was gifted with silence from the curse inhabiting him.  The young sorcerer could only assume that this meant he was doing something else- but what? What could he possibly occupy himself with while trapped in his own domain? Some days Yuji worried he was plotting something, but others he wondered if the King of Curses was just lost in thought.  Did he daydream?

Sukuna wouldn’t call it that, but if anyone were able to catch him in the act, they’d know it was exactly that.  All he could do with his time is imagine how he’d reunite with her in this life.  It was one of his favorite parts of each new century or so, and after hundreds of lifetimes, there were plenty of memories to keep himself occupied with.

This time he knew he’d have to outdo himself, seeing as he was in an unfamiliar body, and he could only hope that she liked this one as much as the last.  Perhaps the next time he took control of it he’d make sure everything was up to standard- he couldn’t have her rejecting him just because he was in some brat’s body this time.  On the other hand, he knew her to be more playful and experimental than he was, so maybe she’d find a change in host exciting.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

To his delight, Sukuna is reunited with the great love of his life sooner than expected.  To his great displeasure, it’s at exactly the wrong time.

He’d been irritated enough having his brat vessel tap out just because he couldn’t take on a measly little Special Grade.  Of course, he wasn’t about to appease some righteous jujutsu sorcerer’s agenda by exorcizing the curse himself.  But in the end, the curse disappointed him too, thinking that it could pick a fight with the King of Curses and come out of it alive.

Pride outweighed vengeance, and he found himself entertained with playing with the Special Grade.  Playing, because of course it’s abilities were weak compared to real jujutsu, unlike the childish display the brat had put up first.

He’s so drawn in by his play fight with the curse that he’d completely missed her- that is until he’s using his Domain Expansion, and from the corner of one of his eyes he finally notices.

While it’s a shock that he’s managed to let the great love of his life go unnoticed, she isn’t exactly… conscious.

The special grade is sliced diced and forgotten, barely even a blip in Sukuna’s memory now once he recognizes the slumped over body on a pile of rubble a few hundred feet away.  He’s delighted, ecstatic even.  The bloodthirsty grin on his face is replaced by a beam of pure thrill.  He’d previously thought it might take years to find her in this life, so to stumble across her now, after getting control of this body over a mere pest, was a real treat.

He approaches her limp body so quickly he’s practically teleported to her, and his beam begins to falter as he takes in her current state.

It’s not a matter of worry that she’s fairly beat up and knocked unconscious so hard there’s soft snores between heavy breaths, her mortal body working overtime to keep her alive at all- it was nothing a quick use of his Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t fix.

The wince of disgust that contorts his features is directed solely at her attire.  

Crisp black button up torn open to reveal the same shade of undershirt snugly fitting her underneath, paired with pants of the same material.  He didn’t need to see the crest at the collar of her shirt to give him further context as to what she was up to in this century.

“Of course,” He utters through his snarl as he crouches down towards her, hands glowing as he promptly heals her wounds.  She doesn’t awaken, her body growing even more exhausted after being put through the technique, but her muscles do appear to relax as she slumps further into the dirty ground.  “You would be a sorcerer in this lifetime.  Idiot,” 

The cruel name falls from his lips with nothing but melted affection.  No other person on this earth would be allowed to hear him speak this way and live to tell the tale.  It was reserved only for her- and she wasn’t even awake to hear it now.

With steady hands Sukuna gathers her in his arms, trying to bend her into a more comfortable position.  She doesn’t wince or complain when bruised limbs drag across broken slabs of concrete.  If he wasn’t able to hear the steady beat of her heart, she would have easily been mistaken for dead already.

“A shitty reunion this time around, I’m afraid,” 

Sukuna sighs before he sits fully on the ground.  He’s not sure how much longer he’d be in control of this body, but any thoughts of fleeing to bring as much destruction to Tokyo is far from his mind.  He wants nothing more than to sit here with his lover and hope that she’d wake back up before he’s dragged back into his domain.

With one arm wrapped under her shoulders to keep her limp body closely tucked to him, his free hand brushes the messy strands of hair away from her resting face.  She looks peaceful, even though when she wakes she’d still carry the aches of her healed injuries.  The tips of his fingers linger over her soft cheek as he admires her.

“Just as beautiful in this life as you were in every one before it, my love,” He murmurs, so quiet that even if she were conscious enough to hear it, she probably wouldn’t have.

He only gets a few moments of peace with her before he can feel a stir from inside of him, and he can faintly make out Yuji gaining his consciousness back.  He snarls in his aggravation, wishing he could knock the brat out so he could get just a little more time with his long lost love, even if she wasn’t her usual lively self.

“Come, we have things to do” He tells her, before he pulls her closer and lifts her up.  

He makes his way out of the destroyed building with leisure, knowing that the other sorcerer, Fushiguro, would be waiting outside for a fight.  It wasn’t in his plans to end the kid’s life just yet, but with the reunion of his one true love coming prematurely, things might have to change.  Oh well, he was flexible.

She fusses in his arms upon the lift, but even with her pinching brows and twitching eyelids, she never quite wakes up.  Which was alright, they would have plenty of time to properly catch up in a bit.  Sukuna had other things to handle first.

It would be some time still before she properly met the King of Curses face to face- in this life anyways- as shortly after his departure of the ruined building, he would have to set her aside to take care of a few of the weaker level shikigamis that the Fushiguro kid sent his way.  After ripping the brat’s heart out of their shared chest, it would be a few weeks before things seemingly transitioned back to normal.

When (y/n) would finally come to in the infirmary a few hours after it all went down, Megumi would relay how the King of Curses had carried her out in his arms.  She’d give him a bitter laugh, thinking he was trying to lighten the mood after the news of the death of their friend.  But Megumi wasn’t usually very good at telling jokes, and after seeing his grave expression stay put, her face would fall.

“You’re serious?” 

Megumi nods, the thin line of his lips unwavering.

(y/n) blinks a few times as she processes it slowly.  She’s still not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t have a reason not to either.  If Gojo had told her this she’d have rolled her eyes, and maybe called him insensitive and unserious, but why would Megumi make something like that up? 

“I don’t understand,” She tells him with a furrowed brow, and the way Megumi shrugs one shoulder unenthusiastically tells her he didn’t understand it any better than she did.  “You’re telling me he saved me?” 

“Maybe, I don’t know,” Megumi replies dryly.  He should’ve known she’d ask him questions he clearly didn’t have the answers for, so he tried to provide her with what he did know so that maybe she wouldn’t torment him with more of her own questions.  “But he brought you out, and set you down somewhere with your head propped up, and he didn’t try to attack you at all.  At least, it looked like he didn’t” 

Her tongue darts over the dryness of her bottom lip as her jaw hangs open at him.  She doesn’t bother him with more useless questions, but that doesn’t mean the whole ordeal wasn’t plaguing her mind.

Something was very strange about that behavior.  But with Yuji gone, she figured it was no use trying to decipher it all anyways.  Maybe after some time when her grief wears off into something she could live with, she could forget about it completely. 

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

With Yuji turning out to be alive and well, Sukuna’s plans shifted once more.  He’d tortured him as best he could without the ability of taking control of the body, letting his friend be turned into a transfigured human, refusing to kill the spirit that called itself Mahito- as upsetting as it was to his brat vessel, Sukuna cared very little for such trivial events.  In fact, if Yuji were to shut up about it, he probably could have forgotten completely.  He only had one goal on his mind- to return to her again.  Anything else was merely a stepping stone along the way.

Just as before, Sukuna spends most of his time in his domain without much noise.  Except this time, Yuji starts to get an inkling of what he’s doing.

“It’s unbecoming and submissive of you to pretend to be dead,” 

Sukuna taunts one day while Yuji’s working on his ‘training’ on Gojo’s couch while he invests himself with a romantic movie.  His sudden appearance was a good test to his abilities, though, as the sleeping cursed puppet on Yuji’s lap doesn’t stir.  It was safe to say that Yuji had gotten as used to sharing his body with the curse as he was going to get.

“What if your little sorcerer friends need you?” Sukuna chuckles.  He quite enjoys the image of Fushiguro and the little red-headed girl struggling to keep up with mere Second Grade curses.  

“They’re fine” Yuji replies casually, barely paying attention to the mouth on his face that wasn’t his.  The movie was just getting good, after all.

“You think they can manage to hold their own?” Sukuna scoffs at the thought.  “With half-assed cursed techniques like theirs?” 

“Fushiguro and Kugisaki are the most cutthroat people I’ve ever known.  Didn’t Fushiguro almost kick your ass?” Yuji mutters, more irritated than offended by Sukuna’s cruelty.  “You’re just lucky you haven’t had to deal with (y/l/n)” 

So is that what she was calling herself this time? Sukuna’s lips tilt into a smirk.

“She doesn’t seem like much to be afraid of,” The words themselves are harsh, but something in his tone changes.  Enough that Yuji starts to lose focus on the television.  “Last I saw her she was half dead.  If it weren’t for me, she would have been dead-dead” 

That finally catches Yuji’s full attention, and he misses the next few lines of the movie when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Sukuna’s silent, thoughtfully so, as he tries to find just the right way to play his cards.  Does he use his history with the brat’s friend as a scare tactic? Or does he keep that little fact to himself for a while longer? Either way, the longer he’s silent, the more Yuji begins to go stir crazy.

“Hey, you old curse!” He hollers suddenly, causing the cursed puppet in his lap to wake up and start to get aggressive.  Yuji heaves as the tiny thing rears a heavy punch into his gut, but it doesn’t stop him from interrogating the curse inside of him.  “What did you mean by that!?” He huffs out.

Sukuna chuckles, and just as quickly as he’d appeared on Yuuji’s cheek, he disappeared again, hiding away in his domain and entertaining himself with the sight of Yuji getting beat up by a little cursed teddy bear.

Perhaps he’d let the brat overthink for a little while longer, anxiety was a form of suffering after all, wasn’t it? At least watching the brat worry himself sick about it would provide him some amusement for the coming days.  Until the sanction of his fake death is lifted, and he could go back to his goal of being reunited with his love.  

(y/l/n).  Her new surname rings in his head as he settles in his domain and lets his mind begin to wander again.  As pretty as it was, he’d have to return it to the proper name.  His name.

Yuji is attacked by Yaga’s cursed puppet a few more times that evening, but not due to the film changing his range of emotions.  In fact, it was due to his complete lack of focus on the movie.  All he could think about was what business Sukuna could possibly have with (y/n).

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When he makes his surprise reappearance for his friends, Yuji debates on pulling (y/n) aside and asking her about what Sukuna had mentioned.  But for all he knew, he very well could have been toying with him, and ultimately he decided to enjoy what little time he had to catch up with his friends before they dove into the Exchange Event.  It just didn’t seem worth bringing up at this time.

But for some reason, when she takes her seat as the Tokyo students begin their planning, Yuji’s compelled to sit beside her.  It’s not an odd choice, it’s not out of character for him, she is his friend after all, but he’s quite aware of the way his feet move on their own accord to carry him to the empty seat beside her.  Yuji knows his body, and he knows he wasn’t the one commanding it to do that.

It makes him gulp when he unceremoniously plops into the seat.  (y/n) gives him a look, something crossed between confusion and amusement, but she brushes it off and doesn’t say a word as she shifts her focus back to Maki.  Yuji tries to ignore it as well, a bit embarrassed about the whole display.  Was that really Sukuna? He tried to clear his mind, too, it was quite important that he took in everything Maki was saying, but his mind is wrapped up in whatever game the King of Curses was playing right now.

And finally, when he thinks he’s heard enough of the game plan for the event, he feels it.

The slit under his right eye opens, the side facing (y/n).  Yuji holds his breath, hoping that Sukuna doesn’t open his loud mouth and bark out something insulting, but he doesn’t.  His mouth never materializes.  He simply stares.

It’s almost worse.

A few minutes pass and no one seems to notice, as the attention of the room is still commanded by Maki.  Except for Yuji himself, as he’d stopped listening to her altogether while he anxiously awaited whatever was to come next.  What was he doing? He began to bounce his leg.

His throat closes up when he sees (y/n) turn her head out of the corner of his eye.  He doesn’t meet her gaze, even though she’s clearly staring at him- or Sukuna, he supposes- but she doesn’t speak up.  She’s just as silent as the curse he’s hosting.  Still, her gaze remains on the dark eye peeking out at her.  If they weren’t in a room with all of their peers, Yuji would’ve broken his ignorant demeanor by now, but something inside him tells him to keep his mouth shut.

When the group disbanded for a quick lunch before the event officially started, (y/n) remained seated while the others filtered out, and when Yuji began to stand, she stopped him.  All she’s done is reach a hand out, she barely even touches his arm, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, and he stays put in his seat.

They don’t say anything until the room is empty, and even then, (y/n) chooses to speak quietly, almost under her breath.

“What the hell is going on with…” She pauses, her eyes flickering between Yuji’s and the ones below, before she raises her hand in a small gesture.  “Him?” She mumbles it so low, afraid that saying his name would be enough to summon him, even though he’s so clearly already there before her.

“I don’t-” 

Yuji starts, but before he could say anything- or think of anything to say- Sukuna’s mouth is materializing on his cheek.  It’s an unsettling feeling on its own, but Yuji always felt a certain chill on his spine whenever he’d feel that mouth forming a smile.

“Just missed lookin’ at you, sweetheart” 

Yuji’s face is sickly pale in a matter of seconds, the fear that settles over him tenses up all of his muscles, to the point they ache, and as much as he wants to remove himself (and Sukuna) from this situation, he’s frozen in place.  Too stunned to say anything, too stunned to move, he just stands there helplessly as (y/n’s) wide eyes dart between both pairs on his face.

(y/n’s) reaction comes first, the shocked expression wearing off into something else.  Yuji can’t place what it is- anger, disgust- but she loses the desire to keep the conversation quiet as reality settles over her.

“What!?” It comes out in a screech, but it’s just as quickly followed by absolute rambling.  “What the hell are you talking about? What the hell is he talking about?” She awkwardly shifts her gaze between both sets of eyes, unsure and unfamiliar with how to communicate with the both of them.

“I- I don’t-” 

Again, Yuji’s interrupted before he can come up with anything.

“We still have all the time in the world, for now you just keep your pretty little head focused on this game of yours, hm?” 

Just like that, the fanged mouth is disappearing and Yuji’s cheek is returned to it’s normal state again.

(y/n) blinks, going silent again while her face is flushing with color.  Now her eyes seem to focus on the lower, darker pair of eyes.  It’s hard to gauge what Sukuna is thinking, or feeling.  With only a narrowed set of eyes to go off of, not to mention he’s a reckless curse, he’s not a man, she doesn’t know what to make of the interaction.

But with the memory of what Megumi had told her, a dread begins to weigh down her chest.  Whatever this behavior was about, it couldn’t mean anything could.  It was unwanted attention, that was for sure.  No matter how warm her face felt, or how nervous she suddenly was just being around Yuji.

Soon enough the eyes shut too, but even though it appears it’s only her and Yuji in the room, she can still feel Sukuna’s presence.  She swallows the lump in her throat like it’s lead.

“Let’s just…” Her eyes flit away from the closed lids, meeting Yuji’s warm but worried gaze again.  She’s not sure if it’s a comfort or not that he seems just as anxious as she feels.  “Let’s just get through the Exchange Event first” She suggests.

She’s sure that this is the right choice of action.  There was simply no time to dwell on Sukuna’s out of character behavior- then again she didn’t know him, she didn’t know what was in character, he was a curse!- not with all of their peers relying on them to secure the win for the Tokyo Prefecture.

Although she couldn’t deny her head wasn’t exactly in the game during the event.  When she finds herself getting sloppy, taking hits she normally should have been able to dodge, she begins to curse the King of Curses himself.  Surely this whole thing was an act, that was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Torture? Mind games? He was probably laughing it up in his domain watching her struggle so miserably at an event she couldn’t have been more prepared for.

When shit really hit the fan and curses and curse users reared their ugly heads in the middle of a semi-light hearted game, it dawned on her just how out of it she’d really become.  Suddenly it didn’t matter how Mai shouldn’t have been able to get that shot at her shoulder- or how she should’ve seen Miwa’s Domain Expansion coming.  There was no way she was going to let a curse like him get in her head and keep her from protecting her friends and herself from a real threat.

And once this attack in the middle of their event was taken care of and the scores were settled, she’d find a way to give the King of Curses a piece of her mind.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

That time came sooner than expected, and it’s seemingly out of nowhere when he pays her a little visit.

Deep down she knows that she should be terrified when the King of Curses is at her door requesting her time for ‘a talk’ as he called it.  A thousand questions should flood her mind, and after some time they’ll begin to register, slowly and one by one, far later than it’s appropriate to ask.

He’d gotten her alone, and this should terrify her further, she should feel like a lamb in the presence of a wolf- no- curse.  But for some reason, when he enters the training room she’d been doing warm ups in, all she does is stare at him.

Sukuna knows that there’s no way she could have mistaken him for the brat, not with all of his markings, not with his vermillion eyes, not with the abundant amount of cursed energy he carried with him.  Any other mortal would straighten up, freeze in place and stare at him in utter fear as they waited for whatever fate he bestowed upon them.

Not her.

Foolishly, he believes this is due to the lifetimes they’d spent together before this one.  Even though he’s well aware of the rules of the courtship.  He recalls many meetings before this one where he’d had to open her eyes to the Binding Vow that brought her back in every lifetime.  Still, he naively held onto a hope that her lack of reaction to his presence now is because somewhere inside of her, she knows she doesn’t need to be afraid of him like the others.

(y/n’s) true feelings couldn’t have been farther from his assumptions.  It may have been a moment of poor judgment, but the moment he’d materialized at that door, irritation overrode self preservation.  It didn’t matter that the cursed energy he carried was so heavy it was palpable.  

She took one look at the King of Curses and furrowed her brows like she was a child he’d wronged, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear for her life when she’s the first to speak.

“What the fuck are you doing out?” 

Out, it’s a funny choice of word, isn’t it? Sukuna can’t help the chuckle of amusement.  Did she mean out and about, casually roaming the sacred grounds, or could she have meant out due to his control over the brat’s body? 

A frown settles on her lips when she sees he’s already enjoying himself.  She should be wondering what he’s been up to before he came here, or when exactly it was he gained control over Yuji’s body.

“And what happened to-” 

Before she could fully voice her worry for her friend, Sukuna’s waving a dismissive hand.

“The brat’s fine, not everything has to be about him, you know” He scolds her as if this was a conversation they’d had a hundred times before now.  Her frown deepens.

“Forgive me for caring more about him than a curse like you” She scoffs back at him.

How was it that in every lifetime she had to have that same bad attitude? Of course eventually she’d always settle down and warm back up to him, century and century again.  Some cases took days, others years, and Sukuna was starting to get a feeling that due to the circumstances they found themselves in this time around, this case could be the latter.  He frowns at the thought.

He found her so quickly this time, why did she have to be so stubborn? 

“Always such a brat, I can hardly tell the difference between you,” He replies.

The look of disgust on her face is washed away by mild surprise.  Both from the soft and easy cadence of his usually rough and cruel voice, and from the realization that he probably should have killed her for talking back to him the way she did.  Now she starts to wonder just how many buttons she can push before she sees the true side of the King of Curses.

Her brows pinch together as she watches him with calculations behind her eyes.  Was this all a part of the act from before? 

“How interesting could things have been if you’d swallowed the finger that day and not this brat, hm?” He muses, and he seems genuinely curious about it.  

(y/n) can barely keep up with him, trying too hard to jump to conclusions before he’s revealed them.  Then again, there might be nothing to understand at all- this was all a part of the mind games, wasn’t it? She makes a mental note to meet with Gojo about this.  Sukuna must’ve had greater plans in mind that the strongest sorcerer should be looped in on.  Even if so far… he hadn’t exactly done anything… just made her friendship with Yuji fairly awkward.

Sukuna hasn’t moved from the doorway.  Her eyes sweep over him carefully as she wonders if this is purposeful.  If his motive is to give her a false sense of safety.

“Humor me for a moment, (y/n)” 

He sounds out her name like it’s an unfamiliar word, and for the first time since he’d appeared minutes prior, there’s a familiar hollow in her chest.  At first she tags it as distress, but the way it lingers like a dull ache has her double guessing it’s cause.

“What?” 

No should’ve been what came out of her mouth- if anything needed to be said at all.  Would he let her leave if she tried? Would he punish her for it? However, despite every instinct begging to drag her in a different direction, she can’t help the intrigue she feels for him.

“What’re you doing here as a sorcerer?” He hums again with his question, eyes narrowing on her slightly as he takes account of her every reaction.

She’s holding her breath right now, it’s obvious in her tense jaw and unmoving chest.  Not even a strand of hair waves in it’s place.  Every part of her is so still, he could easily mistake it as her natural instinct to fear him as her natural predator.  He knows this isn’t the case.

She opens her mouth to protest the question at first, but just as quickly, her jaw slacks, and she’s closing it softly as she sits on it a little more thoughtfully.

“Why do you ask?” 

It irks him to have a question answered with another question.  This was another quirk of hers that she always had in the earlier stages of their reunion.  Even with the grain of irritation, Sukuna still finds himself amused in the way that she truly is the same person in every lifetime.  She may have different names, and occasionally a feature or two isn’t quite how he remembered it- and trust him, he remembered- but her soul remained pure, unfiltered, unchanging.  She was always his.

“The last we spoke, you had quite the unshakable opinion about a society that breeds and boasts of it’s powerful children to protect them, only to leave them in neglect…” He trails off, scanning her features in the search of any flash of recognition.  If anything, she’s only more confused.  Her brows are furrowed and her lips have formed a pout which he deemed as her sign of defeat in trying to understand him.  “Something about creating the things you fear.  But it was quite some time ago, and I see you’ve so clearly changed your mind” He raises a hand, palm up as he lazily gestures to her.

(y/n’s) posture straightens up, partially out of her defensive nature, but mostly due to the seriousness in his tone.  Logic tells her she shouldn’t be taking anything he says as truth, it would be foolish, and in the end probably deadly too.

But that intrigue hits her, ignites a tiny spark in her chest that has her longing to learn more.  The intensity tells her that if he weren’t this curse, that perhaps if he was just a man, she might humor him in the way he was looking for.

If she began the what if game now, she feared she’d find herself justifying her continuation of this conversation.

“You must have me confused, then” 

Her words are clear and concise without being loud.

“I haven’t confused you in any century before this one and I would never confuse you in the ones to come after,” 

She tries to hide the surprise in her expression, but she knows she fails.  Especially when Sukuna’s amusement in her reaction seems more genuine than before.  He takes a step into the room, just a single one.

“Your brat friend is fine.  He fell asleep.  We have a sort of… deal,” 

There is some comfort in his words, even if (y/n) is unsure about her trust in him, the words still hit her chest and her shoulders slowly begin to untense.  She doesn’t question him, doesn’t make any comment at all.  She supposes he’ll fill the silence eventually, and her assumption is correct.

“You and I have known each other for quite some time,” He continues.  “Long ago, you made a Binding Vow to me.  A vow that allowed your mortal body to be reborn in every lifetime, so that I may find you” 

Her brows furrow, hardly believing this to be the truth.  She’s supposed to believe a Binding Vow could hold the power to reincarnate her? A quiet scoff blows past her lips.

“Incredible,” She murmurs, but it’s clear her astonishment isn’t enthusiastic.  It’s cynical.  “What sort of entertainment do you really gain from this?” 

She asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she dares a few steps forward.  She’s not all that close to him, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter her distance from Sukuna, the radius of his danger could stretch for miles.

“You never believe me right away” He muses, his hands folding behind his back as he regards her curiously.  It makes her feel like a specimen, like a wild animal he’s just stumbled upon, but she doesn’t shrink under the intensity of his gaze.

“Would you?”

It’s not the response he’s expecting, but his eyes light up with a flicker of excitement.

“Of course not,” He answers, his lips beginning to curl into a smile.  It should send a chill down her spine, but she takes another step forward and tilts her chin up higher.  So foolish, he thinks with an air of loveliness wrapped around it, don’t you see that the mere fact I let you live for behaving like this must mean there’s some truth in my words? Instead, he tells her “Yet, you fall every time”

“I fall for the trick?” She snaps, but her intrigue remains.

“You fall for me” He clarifies, a finality in his tone that has her shutting up, albeit momentarily.

No, she must’ve been right, it was all some grand trick.  Some ridiculous, theatrical ploy he’d come up with just to deceive her.  She’s not sure of the why yet- if he wanted to kill her, couldn’t he have done it already? If he wanted to torture her, couldn’t he have chained her up by now? She’s skeptical, but she would hate to admit that some part of her, deep, deep down, considers that he may not be lying to her.

Of course he must be lying, so she tries to shove that idea down.

“And why would I do such a thing like that?” She asks, her tone bored, but the wideness in her eyes as she awaited his answer didn’t go unnoticed.  

Sukuna unfolded his hands in order to push them into the pockets of Yuji’s pants.  His grievance in wearing a sorcerer’s uniform was obvious in the unsavory curl in his lips as he briefly glanced down at himself, but his attention returned to her just as quickly.

“A Binding Vow is a double sided contract,” He reminds her.  “You entered it willingly,” He tilts his head at her as he watches her process this information, before he tells her the full truth.  “In fact, you were the one who brought the idea to me, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She mutters out quickly, not thinking twice about the consequences of scolding the King of Curses.

“It’s true,” Sukuna shrugs his shoulders with a lazy drag.  “I almost didn’t agree to it.  But you’ve always been… convincing” 

She’s not sure what he means, because the memories he’s recalling aren’t shared- if they’re real memories at all- and yet, she continues to lay her questions on thick.

“And why wouldn’t I choose to remember all of this then, hm? If I chose to be reborn, over and over, why wouldn’t I have wanted to remember?” She’s challenging him, and Sukuna’s enjoying it, even if it means that right now the distance she puts between them is further than before he’d found her due to her distrust in him.

History has repeated itself for thousands of years, but no event was as perfectly cyclical as she was to him.  Time and time again he would find her, and in every lifetime, she’d been his.

“You wanted to,” He tells her.  “The vow took a bit of a different turn than expected.  See, your soul didn’t simply leap into a pre-existing person with each reincarnate.  You were born again.  Every part of your being, physical and… otherwise, was reborn.  It actually makes it all the more difficult to find you, you know” 

“Seems like a copout” She says, her expression unamused.

“Well go on then, what else do you want to ask me?”

“I have nothing,” She lies.  “Because I’m not entertaining this any further” 

“Fine, then,” To her surprise, Sukuna actually accepts her rejection- if you could call it that.  “I’ll give the brat his body back.  But you’ll know where to find me once you start to remember” 

He leaves without a word, not even a mere wave, and it’s not until he’s gone that (y/n) wonders if she should be worried about him roaming the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but nothing happens.

In fact it’s such a quiet night that the next morning everyone seems well rested and rejuvenated, all in good spirits and ready to take on the day.  Everyone but her.  And she can’t stop her eyes from shifting towards Yuji every thirty seconds, always double checking the slits under his eyes, as if one of these times she’d find them open and focused on her.

She can’t get the image of Sukuna lounging so casually in that training room.  It’s hard when one of her closest friends shares his face, so even when she’s not anxious about seeing that second set of eyes, her heart still skips a beat when Yuji’s eyes catch hers and he smiles politely.

Naturally, that skip in her heart was due to her nerves, and had nothing to do with the contents of her discussion with the curse inside of him.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Sukuna gives (y/n) what he believes to be an abundant amount of time to let their past settle in.  He wants her to process it all properly.  He wants her to come to her senses and realize that there were no ulterior motives in his reveal.

He still makes the occasional crude comment from Yuji’s cheek, but while they’re ever directed at her, she finds her posture straightening and her eyes trained on the skin where he’s materialized, always waiting for him to direct something her way.  He doesn’t.  He hardly even looks at her- when she’s looking, that is.  While inside of his domain and perfectly hidden by Itadori Yuji, Sukuna spends as much of his time staring at her while he can.  Some days, there’s an intensity so strong that Yuji finds himself not-so-subtly staring at her too.  Sukuna doesn’t like this- if he had things his way then no one would lay there eyes on what was his- but letting Yuji sneak glances here and there was a small price to pay in order to make sure the pair remain close enough that Sukuna’s still able to have some sense of nearness to her.

Due to this silent period on his part, (y/n) decides against bringing Gojo’s attention to the situation.  While she knows it hasn’t just disappeared, because she just knows that it will be brought up again, she hopes that enough time passes that she can learn to brush it off as nonsense spewed from a bored curse.

It nags at her, despite her best efforts, she never allows herself to forget it completely.  It crosses her mind every day, if not every minute she spends with Yuji.  The way he stood, the way he spoke, it would play on a loop in her mind until she was sure it would drive her to the point of madness.  It very well could have, already.

And one night, she decides to take the reins into her own hands, and she approaches it first.

After watching a partial movie in the common room, Megumi had long gone to bed and Nobara had crashed on a makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, (y/n) feels an anxiousness settle over her when she hears Yuji begin to snore and he, too, was just as knocked out as the rest of her friends.

She debates on it for a moment, her eyes sliding between the flickering television and the resting boy sitting beside her on the couch.  Her index finger taps at an unkept pace against her knee, and she lets as many minutes pass as she could, just to be sure Yuji truly was asleep.

Then she turned her head fully, eyes focused on that mark under his face where Sukuna’s eyes were peacefully shut.  Not sure of the inner workings on how the whole vessel thing worked, her only choice was to take a shot in the dark and hope it worked.

“I was going to tell Gojo about what you said, you know” 

Her whisper is so soft, her voice cracks and gives on certain syllables.  Even if he could hear her from in there, she wonders if he could have heard something so silently spoken.

Slowly, the eye opens, and it blinks a few times before it slides towards her.  She wonders if he sleeps in there, or if every introduction light when he leaves his domain requires an adjustment.

And then, Yuij’s stirs, and (y/n) freezes up, watching as he twitches before his eyes begin to blink awake, as well.  Fear spikes in her chest at the thought of getting caught talking to the curse inside of him while he slept.

But when his eyes fully open and an array of markings begin to paint across his features, she realizes it’s not Yuji.  It’s just his body.  There’s a certain guilt that follows her relief from this.  In no situation should she feel pleased to see Sukuna over Yuji.

“Am I supposed to be threatened by this?” He asks slowly, in a low tone of voice that she can’t decide the cause of.  Was he trying to be considerate of the sleeping sorcerer on the ground? Or was he just trying to be as menacing and mysterious as always? 

He doesn’t lift his head from where Yuji had been dozed off against the couch cushion, neck craned at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in for the entire night, but Sukuna’s not exactly looking out for the brat’s comfort.  He could use a good crick in the neck or two.

“I don’t think there’s anything I could do to threaten you,” (y/n) replies honestly, the hush in her voice making her sound softer than she would’ve liked.  She doesn’t need him thinking she’s warming up to being in his presence, after all.  “But… would you kill me if I was?” 

“What do you think?” 

It comes out fast enough to be taken harshly, like he holds a disbelief in how idiotic she could be, but their conversation began with a whisper and it seems to be carried on that way.  A lump forms in (y/n’s) throat as she holds eye contact with the darkened vermillion ones that stare back at hers.

The deep feeling she’d buried, the one that told her maybe she trusted him whether she liked it or not, sparked and caught light, burned just a little bit brighter, caused just enough smoke for her to give some of her attention to.

If he truly wanted to kill her, he had millions of chances to do so before now.  So she concludes that his goal wasn’t to do so.  Of course, this begs the question,

“What is it that you want, Sukuna?” 

She’s much calmer than the last time they spoke, he notices.  She’s nervous, but not tense, and not nearly as defensive.  He’s not naive, he doesn’t mistake this for trust, but he is pleased in her change in attitude.

An idle smile curls on his lips as his fixed gaze softens with familiarity.

Just like every time before now, she always, eventually, came around to him.  It was like her curiosity couldn’t keep her away, and her heart always won over her mind.

“I believe you already know the answer to that” He refrains from letting an old pet name fall from his tongue, a courtesy to her that he allows this once, just so she wouldn’t flee from her seat next to him.

She hums, letting the sort-of-answer sit on her mind for a moment.  An unknown feeling gnaws at her- or at least, a feeling she doesn’t want to put a name to.

“Why?” The word ghosts off of her lips, and even with the worried knot between her brows her eyes stay set on his.  “Why does it have to be me?” 

“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Sukuna muses, his lower set of eyes rolling just slightly before he can help it.  “It doesn’t have to be you- it just is.  It’s always been you, and it always will be” 

“Because of the Binding Vow?” She questions, and he blinks at her, processing what she meant, before his brows furrow just a little bit, and he shakes his head.

“The only clause to our vow is that you will always be reborn,” His tongue runs over his teeth as he tries to bite back the amusement he feels when realization dawns on her.  “Everything after that comes from your own free will, sweetheart” 

“Don’t call me that” She snaps at him, but it’s a mumble, hardly audible, hardly threatening.  Sukuna purses his lips.

“Like I said, you were the one who came up with the contract,” He huffs.  “I would’ve never agreed to such a thing if you weren’t so persistent” 

She perks up at that little comment, and suddenly turns in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her as she faces him.  Sukuna’s barely moved at all, still slouched into the cushion in the position Yuji had fallen asleep in.  His eyes follow her movements as she sets her elbow on the top of the furniture so she could prop her head in her hand.  Her brows are drawn together again as she studies him.

“Then why tell me about it?” She blurts the question out.

“Because I’m the one burdened with the centuries of memories” He replies without missing a beat, voice dry and expression unreadable.  He’s keeping it as neutral as possible, knowing her calculating eyes would see right through any sudden change, no matter how small.

“And you are?” She asks, and then in a softer voice, finishes the thought, “Burdened?” 

Sukuna blinks, slowly, before letting his gaze wander the soft and curious look on her face.  He fights the urge to smile at the loveliness of it all- the twitch in her nose, the small pout in her lip- he’s the King of Curses and there should be no force on this earth that weakens him the way her gentle gaze focused on him does.  Even after all this time, she is his achilles heel, she is his greatest burden, and she is the only thing he could ever truly, completely, want.

“Yes,” His answer is quiet, and (y/n) lifts her head as she stares at him with her confusion.  “There exists no stronger shackles a being could trap me with the way you have,”

Her face falls, and she’s silent for a long moment.  With a dry throat and a mind too busy and overcrowded with thoughts, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.  But that gnawing feeling was starting to make her chest ache, and the pounding of her heart in her ribcage was relentless.

“There’s no greater curse I could bear” 

She hates the way he says these things so casually, without a strain in his expression or voice.  She wonders if it’s because he’s done it so many times that it’s lost it’s value.  Perhaps to him, this was just a part of the burden that was her existence, explaining these things to her was simply a chore that needed to be completed.  She swallows a few times to ease the dryness of her throat.

“Does it get old?” 

Sukuna smiles.  It should trouble her- he knows that it unsettles Yuji- but if she feels unease it’s not shown.

“A thousand years of anything gets old,” He sighs, rolling his head over the cushion to stare up at the blank ceiling.  “And I’d hate to admit the things that never get old” 

It’s stupid.  It’s ridiculous and foolish and naive, but she smiles.

“What doesn’t get old?” She asks, her curiosity blending with a sick sense of delight as she wonders just how many sides of Sukuna there really are.

He angles his head towards her again, narrowing his gaze as his lips twisted into a small smirk.  It felt like his technique had the ability to see right through her- she wondered if he was really strong enough to do that.

“Last time we spoke, you said you wouldn’t entertain this,” He reminds her.  “What’s changed?” 

“Nothing,” She murmurs back without a moment of hesitation.  

It’s the truth, and she has no reason to falsify an answer for him.  Just as he had no reason to be so forward about their past.  Even if she hadn’t gathered much, this conversation was much different from their last, and she felt as though she would walk away with this one overwhelmed by all of this new information.  Her trust in him is precarious, and could easily be destroyed by one wrong move, but right now, she can’t see what reason she has not to take him at his word.  It’s not as if he’s asking for anything in return, it’s not as if she won’t return to her dorm for the night and likely not see or speak to him again for some time.  So, she supposed, what was the harm in entertaining the idea just a little?

“Nothing at all” She finishes the thought softly, before turning her attention back to the forgotten movie still playing across the room.  It was nearing the end, and she’d missed enough of it to barely understand what was happening on screen now, but she didn’t have any more questions for the King of Curses tonight, and he kept quiet as she watched the movie.

To her surprise, Sukuna did sit and watch the movie.  She’s not sure how much of it he actually listened or paid attention to, but it was clear that he had not given Yuji his body back, and was still very much alert and in control.

(y/n) doesn’t return to her dorm room until she finally sees Yuji asleep next to her, his face bare of any markings, and the extra eyelids under his eyes closed just as peaceful as his own.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

In the meantime, (y/n) didn’t feel so anxious around Yuji anymore, which they were both grateful for.  Yuji wasn’t sure why the sudden chance came about, but he certainly wouldn’t complain.  He was just glad to have his friend acting her usual self again.

He had no idea of the few chats she’d shared with the curse he hosted.  While Sukuna wasn’t necessarily hiding his interest in her, he wasn’t forthright with the brat either.  He didn’t need the kid interfering with what he was building on here.  It was slow moving like a trail of molasses but Sukuna was more patient than most people gave him credit for.  He could let a lot of things go.

Not this, however.

All of Gojo’s students had been sent on a seemingly standard assignment.  Odd, unexplainable disappearances had been happening in a clearing in the middle of the woods, enough so to alert jujutsu society and send a few sorcerers to the scene to investigate.

Upon arrival, there was an undeniable heaviness in the air.  The field that the group of four found themselves in didn’t stretch for miles, but it was no small clearing.  It was a strange place for a curse to settle in and lure non-sorcerers towards.  Curses often tucked themselves into hidden spots, within abandoned buildings or deep in the thick brush of the woods.  Not a clearing of grass and wild daisies.

The entire situation was odd, it didn’t sit right in anyone’s mind as they went their separate ways to scour the area for any insight on what was happening here.  It didn’t take long for something to turn up.

A curse that had to have been a First Grade, with a large, sharp toothed grin and gouged out eyes, materialized in the clearing’s center, and as soon as it clocked this evening’s prey as jujutsu sorcerers, it seemed to go into a mad state.  (y/n’s) not sure if it possesses great speed or the ability to teleport when it’s suddenly before her.  All she’s able to do in that amount of time is lift her weapon into an offensive position, she’s not even given the time to drive it forward in an attack before suddenly, she’s no longer on the ground.

She comes to mid air, just before she hits the ground and rolls a few times before her senses kick in and her hands brace themselves against the ground.  She can faintly hear her friends calling for her in their shock, but it’s distant.  Her head is spinning too fast for her to lift it to see just how far the curse had thrown her.

A few coughs erupt from her throat before she even tells her body to do so, brought on by the hit to her chest once she’s lifted herself up enough to relieve the pressure from the ground.  Her arms are trembling from the adrenaline and a few drops of blood splatter from her mouth, but once she’s sat up enough, she drags the sleeve of her uniform over her mouth to dry the blood, and she finally gets a good look at where she is.

She’s been thrown clear out of the field, and she considers herself lucky that her body hadn’t been halted by a tree, and instead tumbled to the ground.  Being thrown directly into one of the large oaks she’s surrounded by could’ve been fatal if she’d hit it just right, or at the very least she could’ve broken her ankle.  With a rushed assessment she decides nothing feels broken, and therefore she can grab her weapon and- 

Her weapon is nowhere near her.  She scrambles to her feet, her breaths heavy and irregular as she searches around the grass, looking for the large blade she’d had in her hands less than a minute ago.  

It had only been a minute, right? She hadn’t blacked out, had she?

Realizing there was no use wasting her time looking for a weapon now, she pushes herself to break into a sprint back towards the clearing.  Her friends are blurry images moving about, trying to attack the larger blurry images that fends off their attacks with little struggle.  She concludes this when she begins to hear the yelps and grunts of her fellow sorcerers, and yet the curse doesn’t seem to struggle at all.

Just when her vision begins to clear and she’s preparing herself to rejoin the fight with only her cursed technique and her fists, she sees the curse grab Megumi by the leg, and soon after he’s getting thrown into the air just as she did.  His name is torn from her raw throat in an instant- but Megumi is more prepared to be airborne than she was, drawing his hands together to summon Nue to catch him.

Relief is short lived, and soon Megumi finds himself instructing Nue to catch Nobara and Yuji when shortly after, they’re being thrown as well.  Nue’s a quick shikigami, but it’s only strong enough to carry one person at a time before it’s energy starts to deplete, and the curse keeps at it’s movements, chuckling the three of them into the air before they can land an attack on them on their decline.  Yuji tries, using Black Flash on his descent in the hopes of striking it where it hurts, but the curse manages to catch him in a tight fist before chucking him again.

(y/n’s) still keeping an eye out for her weapon when she grows nearer to the fight, seeing as no one else’s techniques have caused any real damage yet, her cursed tool of a sword could be quite handy right about now.

She was hoping that with it’s attention focused on the other three, she could attack it from behind, and drive it more towards the clearing again.  With how much movement and tossing it had done, it had driven them all deeper into the woods, which made it harder to land attacks, but had been good coverage for (y/n) to sneak up in her approach.

To her disadvantage, she hadn’t expected there to be a pair of large eyes on the back of it’s head.  In the dark of the night she hadn’t noticed them until they’d opened and landed on her instantaneously.  It must’ve sensed her sneaking around behind it.

She’s quicker in her movements this time, dodging it’s large hand before it could grab onto her, but it outsmarts her and snatches her up in the other.  A yelp sounds from her when it squeezes harder than the last time, her air supply cut off just as she’d tried to take in a large breath, making her sputter and cough as it raised her in the air again.  A sense of dread and failure washes over her when she realizes it’s going to throw her again.  Whatever this curse’s deal was, it had a thing for throwing it’s victims around to torture them.

And torture it was- as this time when she’s launched into the air, it’s a clear throw over the trees.  It’s harder than before, and faster.  The cool air cuts over her face in sharp streams, bringing tears to her eyes before she could comprehend what would come of her fall.  She could brace herself, but as she gets a watery glance at what’s below, she knows that shielding her face would provide no comfort to her fall.

Just past the cluster of oak trees is a steep overhang.  Rock and the roots of old trees jutting out some thirty feet to the ground.  

This is why her fall felt so long.  A sharp gasp escapes her, and when her inhale gets caught in her throat, she wonders if this is the last breath she’ll ever take.

When she shuts her eyes to protect them from the harsh wind, a wetness spreads down her cheeks.  In a last ditch effort at self preservation, her arms brace over her face, and she buries herself into them, not wanting to see the last thing that would break her fall.  Hopefully she wouldn’t feel it, either.

Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart began to race faster, expecting the crash to come soon.

The sensation isn’t as expected.  There is no slam against stone or cold ground that knocks the wind out of her.  Instead something’s wrapped around her middle, and out of worry that the curse had grabbed her in order to throw her again, she withdraws her head from her arms in a jolt.

It’s not the curse that’s caught her mid-fall.

It’s Sukuna.

With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her shoulders, his large hand braces the back of her head to keep her tucked close.  They’re still falling, but the sensation feels different like this.  It’s almost as if he’s carrying her to the ground, his posture as natural as it would be if he were standing there now.

Wide, watery eyes blink up at him in astonishment when she fully registers what was happening.

“You’re alright, I’ve got you, sweetheart” 

If it weren’t for the rawness in her throat, she might’ve scolded him for the pet name, but her voice was taken away from her as soon as she’d been heaved into the sky a second time.

She doesn’t even process the way she’s gripping onto him until he lands on the ground, holding her up just a moment longer before carefully setting her on her feet.  Her hands are holding onto the sleeves of Yuji’s uniform in fists so tight her knuckles are white, and her hands are trembling.

The others are nowhere in sight, or at least, she can’t see them right now.  Her mind is so shaken up she doesn’t actually look.  Her eyes don’t tear away from the stunning red of Sukuna’s once.  She doesn’t even blink- hence the continued downpour of tears.  From the wind and her acceptance of a brutal death, her emotions were slowly catching up to reality.

Her chest is heaving but there’s no relief in feeling like she’s caught her breath.  Her heart is pounding so hard that it makes her ribs ache, but that very well could be the bruising from her previous fall setting in.  Her mouth moves but it takes a few tries for any real words to come out, and when her voice does come back to her, she doesn’t say much.

“S- Sukuna-” 

He silences her before she could even try to say something else.  Prying her hands off of his arms and placing them at her sides, even though there’s still tremors in her muscles.

“I only have a minute,” He tells her, in a gravely serious tone that she’s never heard from him before.  She blinks her wide eyes, leftover tears getting stuck on her lashes.  “It’s been handled” 

He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t get the chance to before his posture begins to weaken, followed by his eyelids twitching and the marks beginning to fade away.

Gasping, (y/n) surges forward, grabbing Yuji by the shoulders before he could stumble and fall.  His eyes roll and blink a few times before he feels in control of his body again.  Soon after his posture straightens, and then it’s Yuji who’s looking worriedly down at (y/n).

She’s close, very close.  Her hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.  He can feel her panting against his chin as her worried eyes scan over his features.

Yuji’s disoriented, like maybe he’s just woken up from a dream, or maybe he’s just woken up inside of a dream, and he’s not exactly sure how to voice this concern.  She makes it harder on him when one of her hands leaves his shoulder in order to reach for his cheek.

It’s so affectionate, the way she reaches for his face and presses her palm against it, that Yuji finds his skin heating up and a blush appearing over his cheeks before he could will himself not to.  She’s never behaved this way with him before.  He could only recall casual touches that occurred during training, or maybe a brush of her fingers when she handed him something, but nothing as intentional as this.  

And she’s certainly never looked at him like that either.  He can’t place his finger on it, but it makes his stomach churn to meet her eyes.

“Uh, (y/n)?” He mumbles out her name, and he finds himself doing a quick sweep of her, assessing her for a major injury.  But she’s standing just fine, and he can’t see any blood.  This had to be a head injury, right? 

He asks himself that question once more then the pad of her thumb brushes under his eye.  She faintly traces the incision of the closed eyelid just below his eyelashes.  Yuji holds his breath, but he’s not sure who he’s doing it for.  (y/n), whose eyes are glossing over as she’s gazing at the wrong eyes, which remained closed, or Sukuna, who Yuji was sure she was trying to reach to now.

And then she leans even closer, and the breath he’d been holding is forced out of him from the closing distance between them.  Her hands remain where they are, on his shoulder with an iron grip and against his cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing there.

On instinct Yuji finds his eyes darting down to her lips, but he’s positive she’s not going to kiss him- right? She wouldn’t do such a thing on a whim, not like this, not now when they’ve barely completed their assignment.  Not to mention their friends aren’t too far away- where are Nobara and Megumi anyways? Yuji’s thoughts are racing as fast as his heart as he struggles to figure out what to do as she grows nearer.

Before he has to come up with a decision, (y/n) stops, and Yuji swallows the lump in his throat out of relief that she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him.  The ride home would have been so awkward.

“Thank you” She breathes out the words, her thumb stroking over the spot on his cheek one more time before she finally drops her hand, and she pulls away from Yuji completely.

He blinks at her in disbelief, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, which it does the further she steps away.

“What happened?” He asks, louder than he means to, but when he finally collects his thoughts and processes what just happened, he can’t help but blurt out the question.

The pair begin to make their way back to the clearing, both realizing that the First Grade curse was gone, clearly exorcized with the amount of purple goo coating the surrounding plants and trees.  They don’t discuss it right away, but they both have an inkling on how it was taken care of.

“Sukuna saved my life” 

Yuji wants to ask more questions, but when he turns towards her to do so, he can tell that she’s not ready to talk about it.  Her features had hardened, and she didn’t meet his eyes as they walked.

He knows he’s put off this conversation one too many times already… but once again he finds himself biting his tongue as they catch up with their other friends.

Something tells him that he’ll have to bring it up soon, though.  Because the King of Curses wouldn’t save just anyone’s life twice- much less a sorcerer.  And he has a gut feeling that (y/n) knows more than she’s letting on.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

This time, it’s only a few days since the last assignment when (y/n) crosses paths with Sukuna again.  Well, this time around, he came to her.

She’s just slid her bookmark between the pages she’d decided to pause on tonight when there’s a knock at her door.  With a quiet huff- she was just about to go to sleep after all- but before she can call for her visitor to come in, the door slides open and he’s inviting himself right on.

“Yu-! Sukuna?” 

The initial scolding tone she takes drops as soon as she realizes he’s not who she thought.  Her voice softens around his name in a way that it shouldn’t, but that she can’t help.  She sits up a little further in her bed, brows furrowing as he slides the door shut behind him.

“You can’t just walk in here” 

“I knocked” 

“Okay well… well you have to wait for me to actually invite you in” She mumbles out, only to be met with a scoff and a humorless chuckle.  But when her frown deepens, he sighs.

“Fine, I’ll knock for longer next time” He grunts, before he begins to wander around her room.  He glances over the few things littered on her desk- a picture frame of her and her friends, an open and neglected textbook, a pair of bracelets she’d forgotten to put away- he almost forgets why he’d come in to begin with.

“Um… did you need something?” (y/n) asks after a minute of him wandering around and eyeing all of her things.

“You’re freaking out the brat,” Sukuna says casually, picking up a little porcelain cat on her shelf.  His eyes narrow as he turns the small thing around in his hands, as if trying to decipher it’s purpose.  “He won’t stop asking about you now” 

“What?” (y/n) pushes the covers off her lap, moving to the end of the bed to sit a little closer to him.  It doesn’t matter if she’s quiet, it’s only the two of them in the room, but she feels a sudden need to lower her voice anyways.  “What do you mean he’s freaking out?” 

He turns to her then, the figurine still in his hands.  The tiniest of smiles purses on her lips at how silly a tiny cat looks in his large and tattooed hands.  Despite how easily he could crush it to dust, his hold on it is gentle.

“I just thought that you should be aware, you know, that eventually you’ll have to decide if you want to explain yourself to your friends or not” 

Her stomach twists and turns into dozens of little knots.  The King of Curses was stopping by her room late into the night just for this? She shouldn’t be surprised, because she knew his motives, but still, she blinked at him with wide eyes.

“You haven’t…?” The question trails off as she shakes her head at him, unsure of how to word it just right.

“I don’t like the idea of the brat knowing all of my business,” Sukuna hums, finally setting the cat back down on her shelf.  “You’ve always had a knack for collecting useless things” He comments, and the words are harsh but his tone is nothing but amused.

“So… you think I should talk to Yuji?” She asks, and Sukuna lets his shoulders rise and fall in disinterest.

“If that’s what you want” He says, but it doesn’t feel considerate.  (y/n) frowns.

“Don’t you think he’ll be… upset?” 

“With you?” 

She nods.

“You’ve done nothing wrong.  If anything, the brat would only worry about you.  Seeing as he despises me, and all” 

“You don’t exactly make it easy to feel otherwise” (y/n) mumbles, and her words hang in the air for a few long moments.  She’s not sure if she means the insinuation behind them or if it’s just a coincidence, but she doesn’t try to backtrack to explain herself.

“Yes, well, he certainly cares more for you than he does for me.  Too much so.  Some boundaries might do you some good, you know” 

“Boundaries?”

“Yes, boundaries.  He almost kissed you” 

Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head before her brows furrow and she scoffs in disbelief.

“What? What are you even talking about?” 

Sukuna tucks his hands into his pockets, looking all the more out of place in her room at this hour.

“During your little gratitude session on your last assignment,” He says, his lips curling into a deep frown.  “You got a bit too close and his brat-mind went a bit haywire.  You don’t need to be so affectionate with him, you know.  A plain thank you would have sufficed-” 

“I wasn’t being affectionate with him,” She snaps back, and Sukuna raises a brow at the display.  “I was thanking you, asshole.  You pretty much saved my life?” She says it like she’s trying to jog his memory.  “I wasn’t trying to make a move on Yuji, and I’m sure he knew that too.  I don’t control his thoughts, he can think whatever he wants, doesn’t mean it’s happening” 

Sukuna steps closer to where she sat before bending down to match her height.  She’s still frowning, clearly annoyed with this interaction, but she had yet to ask him to leave, and he has a feeling she won’t.

“So if the brat had plucked up the nerve to make a move, you would’ve pushed him away?” He asks, and he’s smirking, almost as if he wants her to say otherwise.  Her eyes narrow, not understanding what his mind games were getting at this time.

“Politely, yes,” She answers, shaking her head at him.  “Why does this matter? Last I checked, in this lifetime, I’m not some cowering wife for you to boss around” 

Sukuna laughs at that, genuinely laughs.  He stands back up to his full height and throws his head back and cackles so loud that (y/n) can only pray Nobara doesn’t wake up from next door.  She might not need to whisper to speak with him, but the walls weren’t exactly soundproof either.

“Sweetheart, you’ve never been a cowering wife,” He tells her once his laughter died down.  “A wife, perhaps, but never some submissive weak minded mortal” He adds.

“So we have been married?” 

She asks him with such peculiarity, and it makes him chuckle again.  She sounds as though this has been the strangest thing he’s revealed thus far, and he can’t help but find humor in it.

“We have” He answers.

(y/n) shifts her position, pulling her legs towards her chest and staring up at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation that wouldn’t come.  Sukuna merely stares at her with mild confusion.

“Well?” She asks, tilting her head forward.  “Did we get married every time?” 

He smirks.

“I’ve told you that you created a Binding Vow in order to be with me across centuries of eras.  In the grand scheme of things, don’t you think marriage is a little… bleak?” 

(y/n) shrugs a shoulder, resting her arms atop her knees as she gazes back at him curiously.

“It’s bleak in this lifetime,” She murmurs back.  “Not to me, at least” 

Sukuna hums, before shaking his head.

“You never change” 

“Do I really?” She presses again.  “For the last… thousand years… am I really the same?” 

Sukuna ponders for a moment.  This was a common question of hers, and each time, he struggled to answer it.

“You really want to know?” 

She doesn’t say anything, but she pats her hand against the space on the bed next to her.  Sukuna’s gaze shifts to it momentarily, before looking back at her.  After a moment, he takes a seat.

“You are almost completely the same in every lifetime I’ve found you in,” He explains.  “You’re always stubborn, you never make it easy.  But you always… come around,” He turns to her.  “Like now” 

“You think I’m coming around?” She asks, a skeptical look in her eye that makes him smirk.  He leans forward as though the next part he shares is a grave secret.

“You never want to admit it, but you always have a soft spot for me” 

(y/n) raises a brow back at him in defiance.

“I think you’ve got that turned around,” She murmurs.  “I think the King of Curses has a soft spot for me.  And I think he’s making it everyone’s problem” 

He chuckles quietly, his gaze sweeping over the gentle features of her face.

“I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory,” He tells her, raising a hand, and gently pressing the pad of his thumb against the center of her forehead.  The sudden touch makes her freeze at first, but eventually she relaxes as the rest of his fingers lay in her hair.  “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I don’t know how it is that you’re never able to keep your memories,” He tilts his head as he ponders it for a moment, his eyes focused on where he’s touched her head.  “But I think deep down, you know that you trust me” 

(y/n) doesn’t have a witty comeback for that one.  She’s still reeling from the warmth of his touch, and the weight of his words.  But she feels obligated to say something when his gaze met hers again.

“I never said I believed you in all this, you know” She whispers weakly.

“You don’t believe me?” He murmurs back at her, his voice a low rumble as his hand starts to fall from her head.  He doesn’t remove his touch, he lets the back of his finger trace along her temple, before slowly moving down her jaw.  Sukuna doesn’t seem displeased in her words.  If anything, he seems intrigued by them.  “You know, you almost look the same in every life, too” 

“I do?” She asks, just as his fingers fall still against her cheek.

Sukuna hums, and nods his head.

“The last I saw you, your hair was different,” He tells her.  “It was longer, to about… here,” With his free hand, he gently touches her waist, and the way she tenses doesn’t go unnoticed.  “You would wear it in all sorts of different styles.  Pretty braids and… whatever our servants would desire to do that day,” Her eyes widen at his use of the word servants, but Sukuna glides over it.  “But that was a few hundred years ago, of course.  It would all be outdated now,” He drops his hand from her waist, but the other remains against her cheek, his touch ghosting over it.  “Not that it wouldn’t still be exquisite” 

Her eyes shift between his, trying to decipher the emotion they hold.  She can’t tell if he’s amused or sorrowful.  Was he disappointed that she couldn’t remember?

“This is why I’m the one who doesn’t believe you” He murmurs after a few beats pass.

(y/n’s) brows draw together just slightly, just enough to pinch the skin between them.

“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice betraying her as it shakes just a little.

“Because you look at me like that” He says, nodding at her slightly.

(y/n) blinks, doe eyes resembling the glass of the porcelain cat he’d just been mocking.  Her lips are parted, formed in the smallest of pouts as she gazes up at him, that look unrelenting.

She tilts forward, her gaze flickering over his face leisurely, mapping out the black markings, and all the small details that make him so different from Yuji.  The way he insists on pushing the bangs out of his face, the broader jaw, the sharper canine that she only notices when he laughs or smiles- which is quite rare.  She’s admiring him so openly that Sukuna’s not sure what to do under such heavy surveillance, so he just sits there and allows her to stare.

But eventually, she sighs, and drops her legs from her chest before she crawls across her bed, moving to get under the covers again.  Sukuna remains in his spot at the end, watching her without an expression as she settles into her pillow.

“Does it disturb Yuji’s rest when you take over like this?” She asks quietly as she presses her cheek into the soft comfort of her pillow.

No, the brat’s completely dozed off, that’s why he could take over like this.  It’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.

“I’ll be sure it doesn’t” He says as he stands, and walks around the bed, facing the side she’s just moved to.  He crouches down to meet her eye level again, and (y/n) moves a little closer to the edge towards him.

“Okay, good,” She whispers.

She blames her exhaustion when she reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers barely prodding at the dark ink that follows the sharp curve of his jaw.  Her eyes follow it as she traces it down to his chin, almost painfully slow.  It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to lean into the touch.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Sukuna,” She murmurs, her fingers lingering on his chin, her eyes slowly meeting his.  “I… I can’t…” 

She can’t even say the words.  She hardly wants to be thinking about them.  But Sukuna knows her better than anyone who’s ever walked this earth, and he nods back at her in understanding before she could try to finish the thought.

“I’ve never expected anything of you,” He murmurs, before reaching up to pull her hand from his face, gently closing his fingers around her own as he moves it away.  “You have been the greatest love of my life whether you’re able to remember or not,” He tells her, and she listens to him with her full attention.  “And whether you believe me or not, you still will be,”

There’s the smallest of squeezes to her hand with his words, and a lump begins to build up in her throat.

“You can ask more questions another time, alright? You should get some sleep, sweetheart” 

She gives him a faint nod, her eyes already feeling too heavy to keep open when she feels her blanket being dragged over her shoulders.  Distantly, her mind registers that the King of Curses is tucking her into bed, but she’s too tired now to comment on it.

There’s another squeeze to her fingers, followed by a hesitation, and then the soft, unmistakable pair to two lips pressing against her knuckles.  It’s not a lingering kiss, and it’s featherlight, over as soon as it began, and again, (y/n) keeps her eyes shut and doesn’t say anything.

Sukuna lays her hand down against her blanket with the gentleness of maneuvering a newborn.  She hears him walking away towards her door.

“Goodnight, Sukuna” 

It’s the softest call, but it’s enough to make him pause at the door and glance back at her.  She still can’t look at him- she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she does, although she can’t quite explain the heavy emotion that’s bringing the tears to her eyes to begin with.

“Goodnight, my love” 

It’s murmured so quickly before he’s hastily exiting her room that she could’ve missed it altogether, but she doesn’t.  Her hand curls into her sheets as she pulls it close to her chest as she lets tonight’s conversation sink into her mind.

The truth was, she did trust him.  She did believe him.  And she was pretty sure this was the case for the entire time she’s known him.  She’s pretty sure this was unavoidable.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Everything’s blurry when she first comes to.

And everything hurts.

She tries to move, but it only results in a strangled whine being pulled from her throat as soon as she tries.

She’s on the ground.  It’s covered in rubble.  There’s glass pricking her arms- or maybe the gravel was just that sharp.  There’s a warmth pooling under the side she’s laying on.  Likely blood.

Another groan when she at least tries to get on her back in order to assess the bleeding wound on her left side, but just as she’s about to roll her body weight, she catches something in her vision.

Yuji?

He’s slumped over against a wall, and he looks no better than she feels.  Covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his own- whatever went down was ugly.

She blinks a few times to focus her vision a little better.  She tries to call for him but her throat is raw and all that comes out is another whine.  Either way, he’s clearly passed out and wouldn’t have responded.  The fight must’ve taken everything out of him.

Oh, the fight, it slowly starts coming back to her in flashing images.  That Blood Manipulation Guy.  He was rough.  She’s not sure how they got out of it alive- she’s not sure how they got to this point at all.  Her mind’s still foggy and the only thing that’s easy to focus on is the shooting pains in her body.

That is, until there’s the sound of clicking heels and hushed, feminine voices.  (y/n) hadn’t even realized her eyes had slipped shut again until those two appeared, and she peeks her eyes open to see two girls whispering between themselves as they crouch before Yuji’s body.

They look harmless enough, no older than her, and not to mention they look anxious.  So nothing about her blurry assumptions about them triggered any warning flags.

That was, until they pulled out a bag of fingers.  Unmistakable fingers.

She needs to get up now and she knows it.  She pleads with her body to move, wishing the throbbing hot pain in her left leg would disappear just long enough for her to get to Yuji, to stop these girls from what they’re about to do.

It’s unclear how much time lapses before she notices a third figure at Yuji’s body.  A curse.  And he seems to have a few fingers of his own, too.

No, her voice cries, but it’s only in her head.  You can’t do that.

She’s never felt so weak, her fingers barely twitching against the concrete when she’s trying to tell her body to get up.  She’s sure that means none of the rest of her limbs are moving.  She’s trapped there.

Her heart is pounding, her breaths are labored, dread consumes her so completely she’d throw up if there was anything left in her stomach.

It’s tough to count just how many fingers are shoved down Yuji’s throat before the curse is clamping his large hand over his mouth and forcing his head back in order to make the unconscious boy swallow every last one.  With tears in her eyes she knows it’s more than what’s safe, and there’s a turmoil in her gut as she doesn’t know how to feel about what comes next.

With her heart pounding in her ears she can’t tell what exactly the fighting amongst the curse users and the curse himself was about, but suddenly only the cycloptic curse remains standing over Yuji’s body.  He’s grunting and growling, still pushing the boy’s head back.  (y/n) wonders if he’s swallowed all those fingers by now.

These three were idiots.  But they were idiots stronger than her, and even if she’d had the strength to stop them, it would’ve been futile.

However, now, they hardly made her list of things to be afraid of in Shibuya.

The blood that’s pooled under Yuji’s body startles her- when did that get there? But after blinking a few times to clear her sight and focus just a fraction of a bit better, she realizes it’s not human blood at all, but that awful purple essence that leaves a stench behind.

“I’ll give you one second,” Comes the familiar voice that doesn’t belong to the body it erupts from.  “Move” 

In a flash, the small crowd around him is a good ten feet back.  (y/n) could almost laugh if her throat wasn’t bloodied raw.  They chose to wake him up with all those fingers, and now they’re visibly afraid of what they summoned themselves? They truly had no idea what they were in for now.

It only takes one glance towards her before Sukuna’s suddenly before her beaten form, crouching down to assess the damages.

“Now, which one of these insolent freaks did this to you?” He asks, tilting his head as his Reverse Cursed Technique took effect over her wounds with haste.  “I’ll start there” 

“N-none of them,” She stammers out, even though it’s the truth.

For the first time, she considers that she should be afraid of Sukuna.  The other three are still trembling even from their distance, barely letting themselves breathe in his presence.

All she’s ever felt towards Sukuna is irritation, perhaps mild vexation, but mostly he just confused her.  But now, she can feel the abundant amount of cursed energy wafting off of him, and despite his history in sparing her life and taking an interest in her, she briefly wonders if this is the moment he changes his mind.

The thought passes in a matter of seconds, when a pair of hands are gently aiding her in sitting upright.  Even with his technique healing her wounds, there are still aches and pains that make her wince.  Shards of glass falling from her skin as the healing tissue forces them out, bruises that still sting when she moves too quickly before their nasty colors disappear completely.

And Sukuna regards her with an expression she’s never seen before, but it makes her heart lurch in her chest.  It’s concern.  His brows are knotted, and his eyes are scanning over her repeatedly to make sure no injury was left on her body.  This was followed by sizable hands mapping over her carefully just to double check.

She should be afraid, but she’s not.  

In fact, as soon as those vermillion eyes return to hers, all she can feel is relief.

And she doesn’t think twice before she’s darting forward on achy knees, her arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body colliding into his so harsh it knocks the wind out of her for a moment, but she doesn’t mind panting to catch her breath again.  She embraces Sukuna as tightly as she can, as though he’s the only savior she’s ever known, an angel painted in pure white rather than the corrupted being he truly was.

Sukuna has half a mind to grab her by the neck and remove her from him with a snarl about how her injuries were still healing, but instead he wraps an arm around her, his hand smoothing over the tattered back of her uniform.

She could only imagine what the three at the end of the corridor were thinking, watching the King of Curses embrace such a weak sorcerer.

“You understand now, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks her quietly, and she manages a small nod against his chest, before her hands tighten into fists at the red hood that lies between his shoulder blades.  “It’s been a rough night, hasn’t it?” He muses, and when (y/n) doesn’t give him a response this time, he uses his free hand to pry her face away from his shirt, hooking her chin under his finger so that she’d meet his eyes.

Rough night didn’t even begin to cover what she’d been put through, what was she supposed to say? 

“It’s alright now, my love, I’m here,” 

Those words from him shouldn’t bring her the amount of comfort that they do.  The tears in her eyes begin to drip down her cheeks.  Sukuna’s smiling as he brushes them away, and despite her better judgment, she leans into the touch, seeking out even more comfort.  He chuckles at the sight, but humors her as he cups the side of her face in his palm, cradling her head with the gentleness of holding a flower by it’s petals.

She won’t admit it, not now anyways, but she knows deep down that there is no force on this earth greater than the swell of love in her chest right now.  It’s something she’s not sure should ever be voiced, but she has a feeling that Sukuna will find a way to draw it out of her anyways.  Just as he’s made her trust him, just as he’s made her confide in him, he’s bound to find a way into drawing the confession out of her as well.

Perhaps it’s her own fault, too.  Hiding the way a part of her believed everything he’s ever said to her, hiding the way it made her feel to know that she was so loved by a force so strong and unstoppable that he’d scour the earth after every lifetime in order to find her again.

I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory, he’d said.  But I think deep down, you know that you trust me.

She stares at him now knowing all of this to be true, and Sukuna can almost see every thought in her dilated eyes, swallowed nearly whole by dark pupils as she clings to him now.

With a brush of his lips to the crown of her head, he makes her a promise that she’ll live through this horrid night yet.

She still holds onto him when he stands, and he lifts her up with ease, cradling her to his chest like she was merely a small and frightened child.  The only unease she felt now was knowing what fates were in store for the three at the end of the hall, who Sukuna had set his sights on first.

“Now, let’s take this one on together, sweetheart, shall we?” 

Her own fate was still unknown to her, but sealed in place long ago.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

[ cause i love to love to love to love you // i hate to hate to hate to hate you ]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

xoxo ~ jordie

a/n: thinkin about writing a snippet of their past live(s) or something. i wanted to add something like that to this fic but i wanted the reader to feel unsure if they really could trust him soooo it went a diff route. idk don't hold me to it. i'm just a girl.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine