lovingwolfwagonhuman

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

so true

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Type Dangerous - R.S.

Synopsis. Five times Ryomen Sukuna’s “wingmanning” family is the biggest cóckbIock in existence, and the one time he finally gets what he wants - you, his nephew’s hot preschool teacher.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem!teacher!reader, 5 + 1 things, Itadori family shenanigans, unckuna, he has the BIGGEST crush on you, making him blush, face-ríding, síxty-nine, Sukuna with tattoos, PÚSSYDRÚNK Sukuna, he goes feraI, p sIapping, p talking, he’s BIG, chokíng, tummy buIges, manhandIing, dúmbifícation, creampíes, through pantíes, cúmplay, slight bréeding, getting together, nosy families, lowkey crackfic, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 12.6k

A/N. HEHE TOLD Y’ALL I’D WRITE IT…

“This is my uncle, he just got out of jail.”

“Hell yeah.” Not the most courteous introduction to Yuji’s wide-eyed lil’ friends - but if Jin had bugged n’ blackmailed him into picking the brat up from preschool today then he was going to make sure it never happens again.

And as Yuji starts swinging from Sukuna’s broad, beefy biceps, he grins at his miniature crowd. “He also has tattoos and likes to drink.”

“Hell yeah- don’t forget about the cars, twerp.” Sukuna’s nodding, breezing past the horrified faces of parents that tugged their children at least seven feet away. Seriously, how long was this teacher going to take? He could see your back hunched by another corner of the classroom, hugging a sniffly student goodbye.

“Oh yeah- and he likes driving fast and slashing tires.”

You straighten, probably hearing every word - not that he cared, Sukuna couldn’t imagine who’d want to be around this all day. “Hell ye- oh.”

Until you turned his way.

And Ryomen Sukuna feels his heart drop- right along with the muscular right arm that was stuck out for Yuji to climb all over like a handlebar. And with it, his nephew. 

Who seems quite disgruntled at his sudden meeting with the soft, padded floor of the preschool classroom, standing on his own two feet for the first time since Sukuna had arrived here. He furrows his light brows, “Hey- wha’s the big- oh! Teacher!”

Seems like it runs in the family, Sukuna muses - because all it takes is one glimpse of you starting to head their way before Yuji lights up as brightly as the Sun itself. And to Sukuna, whose nephew was a perpetual Christmas tree, it almost made him wish he wore his usual shades.

At least that would’ve hid the way his crimson eyes sweep up n’ down your figure, languidly. Breath stuttered, mouth partly agape. 

Sukuna’s utterly forgetting himself before he’s called out by one of Yuji’s friends- a squeaky, orange-haired girl no older than five. “Ewwww- why are you red?”

“Shut it, bob-cut.”

“So—” Perfect timing, you sidle up to the bustling little group right as Sukuna spits out the tail end of his sentence. A brow of yours raised, bob-cut? 

And oh- you’re even more perfect up close. Is it really too late for him to enroll in preschool? He didn’t see any age restrictions around, and he could count till ten, surely. Genuinely considering, he’s gulping at the way your pretty eyes narrow. “Jin’s not here today? Yuji, do you know this man?”

The boy in question bounces with excitement, “Of course! This is Sukuna, my uncle who just got out of jail and drives fast cars.”

“Ah- ahah.” Said Sukuna chuckles gingerly, eyes flitting between his beaming nephew and your blank expression. Finally settling on the kid, “Yuji! What have I told you about uh- the benefits of um- safe driving and caring for our fellow civilians on the road?”

And there was Sukuna’s first mistake - asking a question, because surely that was a sign for Yuji to nod solemnly. “That it’s for lame pussies who- mmpf!”

“Ah…” You blink.

The damage was already done- but Sukuna’s clapping a meaty palm over Yuji’s mouth already. Oh, he was smashing this kid’s iPad when they’re home. A thin line of nervous sweat beads down his temple as he stares up at you, “K-kids these days, right, ma’am?”

Yuji frowns, “But you do call them lame pussies who-”

“Yuji!”

“Right right, miss.” The lively girl from before - Kugisaki, he thinks her name was - latches onto your swaying skirts. “And he also likes to drink.”

“And slash tires.”

“Tuna mayo.” 

The crowd mercifully quietens down for a split-second. “…”

Until a grumpy black-haired boy peeks through his bangs at that last line, as if translating. “He says he also sets fires.”

Sukuna never said that - but he doesn’t get a single chance to say so. Too busy staring at the constant knit of your brows, the way your gaze was darting from the children to Sukuna like a tennis match, trying to bite back a smile. “I-is that so?”

“And he has a lotta tattoos.” Yuji pries off his uncle’s muffling palm, back to climbing him like his very own jungle gym. As if to prove his point, he pokes the bulging band of black ink that encircles Sukuna’s bicep. “See?”

And if he was any less devastated about making himself look like an absolute fool in front of his nephew’s pretty preschool teacher, then maybe he’d have noticed that look in your eyes. 

Maybe.

Maybe he’d have seen the slight glint in them as you followed Yuji’s pudgy, directing finger - from the wide tattoos at his biceps, to his wrist, to the circles peeking through Sukuna’s off-white undershirt. So tight that it was like the pale color was nearly painted onto him- if Itadori Jin was the sweet, soft single dad that was always early for pick-up, then Sukuna was just rugged. 

From the dishevelled state of his twinning rosy hair, to the studded piercing on his left earlobe, to the naturally-honed muscles that made him look hulking.

And it almost seemed like you were…checking him out? But surely that was a figment of Sukuna’s imagination, right? Right?

You’re nodding as Yuji looks to you impatiently for approval, “Why, you’re quite right, Yuji.” The corners of your glossed lips curl upwards as you turn to Sukuna - and he feels electricity pang down his body. “Uncles these days, huh?”

Ah, he was gone for. 

It was almost a comical sight, you’re thinking - such a large, towering man well over six feet, speechlessly gawking at you. Leaned forwards, ears red; barely even registering the way his nephew grabs onto the tufts of his coral pink hair like a horse- whispering for the rest of his friends to join in.

Kugisaki makes two treks grabbing onto his sides before she’s looking up and crinkling her nose, “Ew. You’re red again, Mr. Felon.”

“He’s not Mr. Felon, he’s Mr. Tire-slasher.”

Yuji shakes his head, “No, he’s Mr. Mugshot.” Seated upon Sukuna’s broad shoulders, the boy adjusts his body to stick a hand inside his backpack and search. “Would you like to see the mugshot, miss-”

“Okay, time for us to get home.” 

Firmly, Sukuna tries to shoo away the army of toddlers trying to climb him as gently as possible - only four glares, now that’s a record. Nephew still on his back, bag now wrestled into his hand and well away from where Yuji could procure any printouts of his (admittedly flattering) mugshot. 

He’s feeling his heartbeat pick up just a lil’ as he darts his eyes back to you, “I-it was just probation, by the way. Happened to slash some uh- tires…” 

“And also drive fast!” Yuji pipes up happily.

“…That too.” Grouchy face wincing at the amused smile on your face- goddammit he’s never going to be able to show his face here ever again. Sukuna simpers out a wave, making sure to flex his chiseled biceps at you ever-so-slightly - if he couldn’t keep reputation, at least he could make you stare. “See you ‘round, teach.”

“See you around, Mr. Mugshot.”

Fuck. 

.

.

.

“I thought I said I’m not doing shit for the brat’s school again.” 

Jin patiently gestures for him to hush with the swearing in front of the gaggle of children, humming as he keeps handing out sugar cookies - half-off for dealing with Sukuna’s shoddy customer service. “Well, technically, we’re not in the preschool. We’re in the park.”

His younger brother seethes, flicking the ribbons of his pretty pink apron (Jin’s doing, of course.) “Having a damn bake sale-”

“Shush, Ryo. There are children around.”

“Exactly my point!” Was Sukuna the crazy one? He must be the crazy one. And he’s running a grumpy hand through his unruly pink locks- before remembering that one of those damn kids running around this bake sale had called him cotton-candy head and now he’s both irritated and unable to self-soothe.

It’d been Jin’s idea to drag him to the preschool bake sale, held at the nearby children’s park- something about raising money for a talent show.

Honestly, fuck talent shows. It didn’t even take two minutes surrounded by all the fanfare for him to have half the mind to eat those sweet treats himself and just leave-

“Oh hey, you’re Mr. Mugshot.” A little boy wearing a panda mask, one he’s never even seen before, points up at him and giggles as Sukuna glares. Did that nickname really spread?

He’s bending over their frilly pink stall with a damn good word or two about-

“Oh! Jin, thank you for coming.” Before he’s hearing the sound of the pearly gates of heaven, and an angel to accompany right along with it. You. Who’d silently meandered up to their cookie stand with an expression of both delight and concern. Your gorgeous mouth pursing as you stop to think, “And…Sukuna, right? Thank you, too, the children really appreciate the work you’re putting in.”

You remembered his name. He has to hold back a squeal. 

“A-ah, yeah- yeah! Of course, of course.” He’s swiftly leaning over the stall, arms crossed so that you can fully take in the way they streeetch his tight sleeveless turtleneck. 

In the faint distance - honestly, it feels like miles away - he’s hearing the panda-mask boy unsubtly whisper something to his father about how ‘Mr. Mugshot has turned red.’ 

Not! Obviously not- smooth. Ryomen Sukuna is supposed to be smooth, and he’s desperately attacking his features into something that resembles suave nonchalance. “I’m a…real philanthropic type of guy, y’know?” Cocking his head with a smug grin, “So, you come ‘round here often?”

You’re smirking, your giggle sounding like his favorite song. “Well, it is my preschool class.”

Ah, shit. His eyes widen just a fraction, right. 

Scoffing, “Tch, uh, yeah. I knew that.”

So many days spent mentally praying that yet another one of Jin’s work meetings went over time again - just so that Sukuna would have an excuse to see your pretty face. And that’s the first thing he says?

Suddenly, he’s too aware of the ogling toddlers, of the snug pink apron that he was currently donning - and the way your eyes seem to stray down to the gaudy bow settled between his pecs.

At this point, it seems even his brother takes pity on him. Adjusting his glasses with a soft chuckle, “It seems Ryo here had the greatest time at pick-up last week, he only had good things to say about you, ma’am.”

You blink in slight surprise, eyes taking in Sukuna’s large, fidgeting figure. “I’m quite flattered.”

Yes! Sukuna’s pleading eyes snap to the interested twinkle in your eyes, and then to the other man- yes, keep going!

“Of course, Yuji did tell me he was upset he didn’t get to show you his printed mugshot of him. It was all that he could-”

Fuck no! 

Catching the other’s urgent eyes, Jin sputters- “B-but- but, it was just a little vandalism, of course. Just a little ah…a little driving and- eek!” Cutting himself off promptly as soon as Sukuna steps down on Jin’s foot, syllables stumbling, looking ‘round anywhere for any distraction. “Why don’t you- ah! Why don’t you give our lovely teacher here a cookie, Sukuna. Free of charge.” 

You’re waving your hands, oh-so-sweetly, “I could never, please let me pay-”

“Nah, a pretty girl like you? I should give you more, ma.” He could give you a totally different type of cookie but this might just not be the place to say those words out loud- ah, he’s still got it. 

Sukuna’s thumbing out the biggest baked treat between a fluffy tissue and handing it over to you- ready to feel the sweet, sweet graze of your fingertips, if he was lucky.

But oh- it seems like the gates of heaven really have just opened up to him, because instead of taking it from his hands, you’re leaning down and taking a bite. Straight from where he held it. Humming as the candied taste floods your mouth, the soft pushness of your lips taps against the edge of his thumb.

And he wonders how they’d feel on his lips, instead. 

“Ah, sorry.” You’re taking a peek at him through your lashes and maybe he doesn’t still have it because Sukuna feels his breath hitch. “It just looked so good, and my hands are a little…”

And it’s only then that he’s noticing just how many boxes upon bags of things you’d bought from nearly every stall here. Happy to support your students - oh, you really were an angel. 

“Oh, let me.” Ever the gentleman, Jin hastens to move around a few bags so that you’re more comfortable. All while Sukuna can only hold out the cookie and freeze. Slack-jawed. 

Completely ridiculous. 

He doesn’t move a single millimeter, not even when you’re now able to easily grasp the baked good from him. Expectantly waiting, palm raised - while he only ogles you. 

“I uh- let me just-” And it takes Itadori Jin both hands to pry the crumbling cookie from Sukuna’s hands, sighing before wrapping up about two more in apology and handing them over to you. “We do hope you like them, ma’am.”

“Mhm—” Rubbing over the crumbs at the edge of your lower lip with one hand, you look dead-set on Sukuna as you murmur. “It was delicious. My compliments to the chef.”

Sukuna might not have been the chef - baker, whatever you said goes - it was Jin, but he can’t help but feel on top of the world as if he was. Waiting just until you’re out of sight, walking through the sunny Spring park up to the next parent-manned stand, to pump his fist with a low ‘hell yeah!’

“Ryo, you haven’t been this smitten since- well, ever.”

“Daddy, Mr. Mugshot is really weird.”

Sukuna whirls at a few staring parents- “The fuck are you lookin’ at?”

.

.

.

“Remind me why you’re here again?”

“Remind me why you’re here again?”

Arguing with a thirteen-year-old wasn’t very high on Sukuna’s bucket list, and yet, it seemed to happen on a nearly daily basis. He would blame middle school for being the root of Choso’s attitude, but he suspects the new emo look has something to do with it, too.

And maybe the fact that the older man was accompanying one of his weekly visits to Yuji’s preschool playground. Cutting off just the last of Friday’s classes just so that he could walk down the street to see his little brother. Despite seeing him at home every day, but still. 

That’s also what Sukuna himself was here for- of course. Why else would he-

“Ah ah- Kugisaki, what have I told you about using the toy construction hammer for things other than construction? We don’t hit, m’kay?”

Sighing, the way that Sukuna’s towering frame leans against the playground’s cherry blossom tree for support draws such disgust from Choso. Dark eyes flickering between his blushing uncle, and you - in the middle of the sand pit, trying to wrangle a class of toddlers. “You’re pathetic.”

“Shut it, scrawny.”

“Why don’t you just talk to her?”

Sukuna’s life flashes before his very eyes, and strangely it’s mainly made up of every moment where he’s embarrassed himself in front of you. Looking away with a huff, “It’s…complicated.”

The other snickers, “Well, it’s about to get a whole lot more complicated because she’s coming up to us right now.”

Oh, fuck.

Now, he might have had the sense to ‘accidentally’ bump into his oldest nephew just as he was on his route to meet Yuji (Sukuna had memorized his schedule, sauntering by this very block for an hour until he’d run into Choso) - but he didn’t have enough wit for this.

Conversations? With both parties and a classroom of preschoolers participating? 

He was just about ready to race right out of here and leave Choso to the wolves-

“Cho! You’re here as always.” You’re smiling as you waltz up to them, a neat line of toddlers following you as they would a mother duck. Hitting him with your scent of flowers n’ the sunniest of days, “And I see you’ve brought along a guest with you- how are you, Sukuna?”

“F-fine.” F-fine? With a stutter? Sukuna simply bristles at the smirk his nephew shoots his way, already feeling the tips of his pierced ears start to scald bright hot. 

“Bubba!”

Saved by the bell-like shriek of Yuji, enough to make Choso take a few steps over and hug his toddling brother so tight that the former squeals. Checking him over for scratches, dust, stickers- you name it. 

You’re catching the raise of Sukuna’s brows and chuckle, “He is always quite the attentive older brother. You should join us more often, I’m sure Yuji would enjoy having his favorite uncle around.”

Mouth dry, “I’m- I’m his only uncle.”

Yet, your grin still stands - a slight knowing curve in them that makes his brain fuzzy, and his lips just a bit too loose. Did he say he liked drinking again? What a fucking lie, you got him more buzzed than a shot of straight vodka pumping through his nerves. 

And he’s finding himself reaching over to brush a stray petal of cherry-pink from your crown. Blurting out before he can stop himself, “Hey…so what’s your ty- I mean, are you seeing any-”

“She’s mine!” Cuts off an annoying, grating voice - one that understood what you evidently didn’t, with the few syllables that Sukuna had been able to croak out.

And he’s looking over your shoulder to find himself being stared down (stared up at?) by a boisterous, buzz-cut boy slightly older than Yuji. Protectively standing behind you as he glared daggers, “When I’m old like you, she shall be my bride, Mr. Mugshot.”

Huh.

You’re droning out in your nicest tone, wagging your finger. “Now now, Todo Aoi, what have I told you about not proposing to your teachers?”

“To not.”

“And what are you doing?”

“Proposing.” Stifling a sigh, you realise that it would be yet another chat with Todo’s guardian about the boy’s harmless little puppy crush. 

But before you can direct the conversation back towards anything else, he’s stabbing an accusing index up at Sukuna’s looming frame. “Miss teacher here-” Not quite your name, but close enough. “-and my sweet idol Takada-chan are the only ones I shall marry. You can’t have either!”

“Who the hell…” Sukuna furrows his brows- what was this boy talking about? “Listen, kid, I-”

“Pffft–!” He could recognize that burst of muffled laughter anywhere, and at least Choso was having a grand ol’ time- whispering to Yuji, “Don’t you think this is like those late-night dramas dad pretends not to watch?”

No! Sukuna’s internally groaning. 

“Oh- oh yeah!” An over-hearing Kugisaki bounces at the mention of dramas, “My mommy watches those. Times like this the two guys will fight over the pretty girl.”

Todo puffs up his chest, “Then fight me, old man- I demand a duel!”

“I’m not even thirty?”

“That’s old.” Choso nods.

“You’re thirteen.”

“I’m five!” Yuji jumps up, and immediately his older brother’s pulling his phone out to snap a few hundred photographs at the cuteness. 

Todo stomps, “Fight me, fossil–”

And his young nephew - that traitor - is the next one to shrill with glee at the altercation, clapping his hands once Todo charges forward with a damn war cry to pummel Sukuna’s abs with hits about as fierce as cotton. “Fight! Fight! Fight!”

At the slight raise of your brows at the chaos, Sukuna rushes to explain, “Please excuse my nephew’s behaviour, ma’am, I don’t know where he got it from-”

Choso deadpans, “But you’re the one that taught us that the best talk is to talk with your fists because-” The two brothers turn to each other in unison, as if preaching the truth and nothing but the truth. “-we’re no weakass bi-”

“Their father.” Sukuna grits out- okay, maybe that kid’s punches were getting a little more painful. Or maybe it was just the way you were cocking your head at him that made his stomach churn, “Surely.” 

“Defend the honor of your woman, geriatric–!”

Seemingly snapping out of the little reverie of taking in whatever the fuck this was, you clap your hands in that teacherly way to demand silence. “Alright alright, break it up. You wouldn’t want me to take down any of your star points, would you, Aoi?” Tugging away the boy from Sukuna, you grimace up at him. “I’m so sorry about all of- well- this.”

Waving off- remember, Sukuna, nonchalance. Nonchalance. “Don’t worry about it, mama.”

“Y’know how they apologize to each other in the dramas?” Kugisaki speaks up, and honestly, this girl really did speak up at the most inopportune times. She glows at all the attention on her, “They kiss.”

And she was a genius.

An absolute genius, bob-cut!

Yuji - ever his lil’ ally - starts pumping his fist with whoots- “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”

Starting up a slight chant within your group, you turn to him in question.

“I uh…” Sukuna starts, tilting his body down ever-so-slightly, until you could could nearly every thread on his dark hoodie. The way his slashing tattoos framing his jaw ripple as he gulps, “You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to, ma- that’s assuming you wanted to do something, and what I meant was-”

It was one second. A singular, heavenly second that your lips graze the right side of Sukuna’s cheek as he rambled - fluttering away right before his skin started to scorch with a blush.

Quite frankly, fuck nonchalance. 

“Ewww, he’s red again. What’s wrong with him?”

“Were you this red when you were setting fires, Mr. Mugshot?”

“He looked nothing like this in his mugshot- wanna see?”

“Salmon.”

Ears tinting a shade that matches his hair, voicebox void of any coherent words, Sukuna barely even functions until he’s hearing the sharp ka-chick! of a camera shutter. Whirling his head ‘round to find Choso with his phone pointed at him, catching him in all his flustered glory. “I’ll send it to the family groupchat.” He turns to you. “And to you on the preschool groupchat.”

Imagine Sukuna’s surprise when he finds you nodding, “Mhm, oh, and I should really be getting the kids back now, it’s almost time for the bell.” Making the kids waddle into a neat line once more, you wave. “Thank you for the visit- do come again, it was quite…interesting.”

And they stare - Choso at Yuji, Sukuna at you - as you and your classroom disappear back within the preschool walls. “No phone for you for two weeks.”

“No hot teacher’s number for you forever.”

Only after a second- “Hey- hey kid. Show me that number again? I’ll make it one week.”

.

.

.

Sukuna had almost, mercifully, forgotten about that damn talent show. 

The bake sale? Gaping at you for nearly five full minutes straight? Never happened. 

And he’d almost convinced himself of that- until the time came for him to be seated right on the very front row of the cozy preschool auditorium. Taking up nearly three chairs as he squeezes himself into the humble seat, arms crossed and scowling. 

“You know…” Jin claps as Yuji and Kugisaki fight to clamber onto stage first, with a reluctant Fushiguro in tow. About to showcase whatever it is that they’d been practising with doves and sticks all week. From the corner of his mouth, “When we had the kiddos over, Megs told me something very interesting the other day.”

“Hm.” Sukuna’s grunts noncommittally when Yuji pulls out a comically large fairy wand - ah, a magic show.

“Something about you duelling with a kid for the hand of a certain someone.”

Letting out a strangled groan, his eyes immediately find you - as they always seemed to do. Stuck on the way you were kneeled by the front of the stage, motivating each little performer tonight. “Y-ya don’t say…”

Jin beams, “You know, you should really ask her out, Ryo- oh! Do you need our help? I can tell you this, the Itadori family makes great wingmen.”

“Ya don’t say.”

Tattletale, Sukuna’s grousing. And just as Fushiguro Megumi finds himself being stuffed into a box - to be sawed in half as all good magicians did, apparently - the older man slowly, menacingly pulls out his prized camcorder. 

Just in time for Fushiguro to glance over and have his face pale at the blinking, recording lens. 

“After all, Megumi did say you were blushing like a- what was it- ‘maiden in love’ that day. How cute.” 

“Ya don’t say.” Sukuna zooms in, right on the black-haired boy’s ashen face once the saw raises high in the air to magically cut him in half. And to make things even worse, he starts pointing at his camera, mouthing through a grin, ‘Oh yes.’ At Fushiguro’s slight shake of his head. ‘You are dead.’

But, alas, it was too good to be true.

And instead of having the little snitch be the casualty in one of Yuji’s magic tricks, the talent show goes shockingly smoothly. Hell, Wasuke slept through only about half of it, which was as much of a compliment as one could get. 

All because of your efforts, surely - and when the entire thing ends with (surprise, surprise) every little brat getting awarded a winning prize, Sukuna finds himself not half-annoyed that he’d actually sat through all of it.

Well, right up until about when it was time for the exhausted preschoolers to be taken home by their families. 

And Yuji comes bounding up to the four with a squealing—“Dadda–! Bubba–! Gramps–! Mr. Mug-”

“Another word out of you and I’m throwing your iPad out the window.” Sukuna grumbles, heart leaping to his throat when he’s spotting your chuckling figure follow up behind his nephew, as if Jin’s elbowing wasn’t a sign enough.

Yuji frowns, “Aw, but I already told everyone here.”

Damn gremlin- but before he can get another word in, you’re already greeting his brother and father with a smile. “It’s so great to see you again, Mr. Itadori- I hope that blood pressure you were telling me about is better now.”

“Ah, ya know- I won’t be dying any time soon.” Wasuke barks out a hoarse noise of laughter, before beadily eyeing Sukuna. “This one, however…”

Your gorgeous face drops in worry, and he doesn’t know whether to whine at his father for letting you make that expression, or giggle because you cared about him. Fuck. “Oh no- everything alright, Sukuna?”

But Wasuke answers for him, “No. Not at all, quite the incurable disease, my dear.”

He watches on in matching confusion with Yuji as Jin lights up beside him, “Ah- ah! Right right, that-” Soothing his face into something pitiful as he turns to you, “That ah- thing that only heh- one person can solve.”

About as subtle as a sledgehammer. 

And just as efficient in bagging the woman of one’s dreams.

Because you only furrow your brows in confusion, “I’m…sorry? What?”

Sukuna’s older brother’s smile tightens in desperation, nervously laughing. “You- you know…that thing?” And you tilt your head, eyes darting between the four as if trying to work out the punchline. “The thing like- the heart condition? No- not something serious but like…the butterflies?” Now looking to Sukuna for help - as if the other man wouldn’t just let him rot in the very grave he’d dug for himself. 

Then at Choso, who’d been quietly attempting to disappear into the wall plaster. Trying not to laugh as he dotes on Yuji, “The doki-doki.”

Jin snaps his fingers, “Yes! Like the doki-doki? The-”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake- he wants to fu-”

“That’s enough for tonight, pa.” It really does run in the family - because in a split-second, Sukuna has his palm clapped over Itadori Wasuke’s mouth. Smile painfully plastic, “Did you take your meds today, dear father? I don’t believe you took your meds today.”

He plunges his sprightly father into Jin’s arms, “Say, Jin, why don’t you get dad his meds.” Making note of the way that you - still thoroughly confused, and now thoroughly off your shift helping each student get to their guardian - were toyin’ with the cute decorations of your car keys. 

Letting his mouth work before his brain could regret anything- “And why don’t I walk you to your car, ma?”

“I- what.” You’re somewhat shocked at being addressed so directly, and at the kindly incline of Sukuna’s head. “Don’t you have a heart condition? I wouldn’t want to exert you, Sukuna.”

Wasuke grunts, “Exert him in another- mmpf-” Hastily shushed by Choso’s palm, more for his sanity’s sake than his uncle’s.

These damn- he narrows a glare down at an unabashedly-eavesdropping Jin and Wasuke. “No. No, don’t worry about it, they were just joking. Ha. Ha.” 

Well…it was quite dark outside the building, even with the surrounding streetlights. And your vehicle might just be a little ways away but it never hurt to be extra safe, did it? Especially when his stature was so intimidating anyways?

And so, you nod. 

And he walks with you.

More like floats beside you on cloud nine, actually. Sukuna’s sure you two made quite a sight in the corridor, if the way passing parents whispered to each other signalled anything - him, with his ears flared red, unable to even look at you directly as you two were alone. You, as perfect as ever.

“Ah- so-”

“What did you-”

You’re both speaking at the same time once you’re out of the school building, laughing into the nearly-empty night air that forms clouds out of your puffs of laughter. The few minutes of a walk to the parking lot seemed like eternity - and Sukuna would have gladly let it be. 

“You speak.” You’re urging.

“No you.”

“You-”

“I refuse.”

“Fine.” Rolling your eyes, you never noticed the way he always seemed to nudge his head ever-so-closely to you whenever you spoke. As if he was hanging onto your every word. “What did you think about the talent show?”

“Brilliant. All because of you, of course- got so much blackmail to use in ten years.” He cackles.

Though, that’s stopped short very soon the nanosecond you’re nudging him playfully. Heat touching heat. And he shivers, “Hit me if this is strange.” Letting the tense air clog his throat, at least, that’s his excuse for it. “But do you remember that thing I meant to ask you that one time at the playground…”

“Yes—?”

“Are you-” Sukuna’s husky baritone cracks and he twists his face into a wince, “D-do you happen to be seeing anyone?”

You blink, and there’s something about the way you look at him that makes him feel like you’re holding back such a smile. How he wished to see it right now. Musing into the silent night air, only thrumming with your footsteps towards the car, “Nope.”

“O-oh.” And if this was any other time, then he’d be embarrassed about how obviously relieved he sounds. How you surely must have picked up on it.

Faking nonchalance, he’s stuffing his hand into the baggy cloth of his ripped jeans, “Cool.” And it was a damn good thing you didn’t have x-ray vision like all the heroes in all those weekend cartoons Yuji watched - because then you’d have seen the way his painted nails dig in so deeply into his palms in pure excitement. Nearly hard enough to draw blood. “Very cool.”

“Very cool.” You’re echoing, now stood by the driver’s seat of your car - just waiting for him to say something. Anything. 

Waiting as he opens his mouth- “What’s your ty-”

“Yuji- Yuji noooo- don’t interrupt your uncle’s k-drama moment- oh, dammit.” Itadori Jin, who’d been chasing after an adventure-hungry Yuji, balks at the way you were both so close. Snatching up his struggling toddler, “Forget about me! We- we never here- go back to doing whatever you were doing!”

And somehow, you lurch apart as if you’d just been shocked. Only now realizing just how warm the temperature of his proximity was, fighting to keep your professional façade in front of your spying audience. 

“I bid you goodnight, Jin- Yuji.” Gesturing out a wave, you’re getting into your ride so quickly that Sukuna thinks he must’ve been dreaming you up. “And you, Sukuna.”

Nevermind- not a dream. 

Definitely not a dream. Because even in his sweetest hallucinations he wouldn’t have been able to make you say his name like that. Almost a purr. Almost batting your lashes.

Almost ripping out his heart from his very chest as you then speed down the road.

“That’s the best ya could’ve done, sonny? Even after I taught you everything to know about wooing a woman?” How very much like Wasuke to manifest from nearly thin air, from somewhere out of the shadows of the building. 

“Not that.” 

“Especially that.”

The older man only waves off Jin’s bemoaning concern about ‘ruining the moment- they had a doki-doki moment!’ “Choso’s in the car, can’t believe I lost a bet to a middle-schooler. Dammit.”

Sukuna’s eyes widen, “You…bet on me?”

“Whaddaya think, sonny?” 

Jin smiles, “Guilty.”

“Gwuilty!” 

“No- no, Yuji, not guilty.”

Wasuke paces away, shaking his head. “Thought I raised you better- keh! Thought I’d get grandchildren from you, too. Tch, now I owe a middle-schooler fifty yen, oh, woe is me.”

It takes a second for Sukuna to register the words, “Wait- only fifty yen?”

“Yeah, that’s just about my belief in you, kid.”

.

.

.

KNOCK! KNOCK! KNOCK! 

“Oi- oi, Jin. Go get the door.”

“I’m cooking dinner–! Cho, could you get the door?”

“I’m in the middle of homework- ask uncle.”

Sukuna grumbles, why the hell was he the one to always answer that damn door? Honestly, Yuji could buck up and get some experience yelling at sleazy salesmen sometimes. Sprawled out across the TV room couch, he stares at his nephew playing with a toy bow and arrows set on the floor, “Yuji, could you get the-”

“I can hear you, Ryo.”

Dammit- there was a reason why Itadori Jin was the older brother. 

And there was also a reason why Ryomen Sukuna had a reputation in this quaint neighborhood for being a boor - not that that was much of a brag. But at least it explained why he was stomping up to the oak front door, damn near ripping it off its hinges with a growl- “We’re not buying any- oh.”

‘Oh’ was right.

Because standing right there on his porch was a damn sight for sore eyes - you. 

You, with your mouth parted and your brows slightly raised as you looked from the messy bangs of his locks to the oversized sweater he was wearing. You, who doesn’t even flinch about the fact that he’d just answered the door yelling. You, donned in a pretty lil’ skirt that makes him gulp- 

“You okay, Sukuna?”

“No. So how are you doin’ on this fine day, ma? ”

“Oh!” A happy call of your name makes you turn - even though Sukuna just stares, shell-shocked. Jin shoves him bodily out of the way, opening the door wider, “Please- come in, we’ve been expecting you.”

Looking down at the slight stain of something at the hem of his sweatpants, the other man frowns. It’s not like that was news he’d ever forget - so why the hell was he looking like that? “We have?”

“Yes?” Jin’s showing you the way in- only for you to be dragged in by an overeager Yuji anyways. And as the two of you disappear down the halls, he’s turning to his taller brother in genuine confusion. “Did Cho not tell you that we were having Yuji’s teacher over for dinner tonight?”

At Sukuna’s sputtering, Jin wastes no time grasping a nearby broomstick and thumping the wooden end up against the ceiling. “Kamo Choso–!”

And out comes a muffled reply, “I told grandpa to tell him!”

“Haaah? I told Yuji to.”

It sinks in. The fact that you were here, all prettily dolled-up and at their family home - and you’d happened to see him in nothing but a stained, ratty sweatshirt and pants torn down the side of his thigh to show off one tattoo. 

Jin grimaces, “Um…we can still wingman our way through this?”

“I’m gonna kill you.”

Murder does not, in fact, come before dinner; as all good manners dictate. And Sukuna decides that revenge can wait after he’s totally, completely, utterly made you swoon.

“S-so-” Only after a quick change into his best tightly-fitted turtleneck and his silver chains did he dare to show his face ‘round you again. Spritzing enough cologne to almost overpower Jin’s omurice, he tries to smize from where he was sitting right opposite you on the kotatsu. “Nice place, huh?” 

The shot of extra, extra strong sake that Wasuke slides over is a consolation as much as a ‘you’re not in a restaurant, you fool!’ He finishes the cup in one go.

“You do have a very beautiful home.” You’re nodding over at a proud Jin. 

“And the- food- how is the food?” Another cup- what moral support, father. 

“Mmm- amazing, I usually never have the time to cook much for myself with the kids n’ all.”

Which Jin takes as the cue for him to butt in on the conversation, helping it flow as smoothly as an enclosing dam would to a river. “You like kids, huh?” Kicking Sukuna underneath the kotatsu, he rattles the plates. “Our Ryo here also…tolerates children.”

“Really?” You’re teasing, “I couldn’t tell.”

“Why I love kids, yeah.” Sukuna tuts as he lifts his hand to pat the crown of Choso’s head- who only swerves out of the way, food finished n’ leaving the room to join his brother playing. Hiccuping, you were so pretty sat in front of him like this- too pretty, that the vision of you was starting to get blurry. 

And another cup.

He’s jostled by the tap of Jin’s hand on his arms- “And he’s actually quite sweet in his own way once you get to know him. I’m sure dad agrees-” Ignoring Wasuke’s ‘I don’t’. “-that he’d make such a responsible-”

“U-unless you don’t like kids.” Still stuck on that - still. Sukuna downs it and then shakily pours himself another. “In that case, I don’t like kids either. Yeah, can’t stand them.”

And another. 

Jin and Wasuke share a glance between themselves when the hulking man leans over the kotatsu towards you with what sounded suspiciously like a whine. “Would you want kids with me?”

And- 

“Sukuna-”

“W-well—time for Ryo to be put to bed, I think.” Jin hastily stands up, struggling to hoist his oversized younger brother from his seat. Failing, evidently, as in that time he’s managing to gulp down another two or three sake cups. “Dad- a little- help?”

Wasuke only shakes his head gravely at you, “You should know he was switched at birth.”

“We’re nearly identical twins–”

“Twins? What-” Sukuna babbles, “Does she want twins?”

Glassy eyes blinking n’ squinting furiously down at you as if trying to figure out whether you were real. Before ultimately giving up, it seems.

Because he’s stumbling a few unsteady steps forwards, pulled by Jin, before dropping to his knees and toppling his head over your lap, just by the gap of the kotatsu edge and your stomach. He’s nuzzling his face right against your tummy, “Mmm— maybe triplets. Would be the cutest fuckin’ things if they looked anything like hck! her.”

You giggle and he gasps- as if the epiphany had just struck him. “Quadruplets?”

Starin’ down at him, at the rosy blush painting his ears, you’re muttering. “You wish.”

“Dammit- even this hck! illusion of her is fine as fuck. Shit. I wonder if her type is…” 

Trailing off, he looks to his older brother for assistance- who helpfully supplies, “Sad and drunk?”

Wasuke’s contribution- “Zero game- as the kids say?”

“Dangerous?” You pretend to think, assessing over the mountainous heap of a man. “Actually- only pretends to be but is really a softie inside?”

“Yes! That- wonder if he type is dangerous…pretend dangerous. I’d give her all the kids she’d ever want- all big…n’ glowing…” It was almost like the setting of the sun, and just as quietly that Sukuna’s dipping past the edge of consciousness. “And…mine…if she wants. Oh, only if she wants- I’ve gotta- hck!” He turns up slightly to you, “-gotta woo her first, you see? Gotta date her…marry…but- but most of all…” Words slowing, heartbeat still racing whenever he looked at you. “I…just want to love you, pretty girl.”

And with that, he was out like a flickered light. 

With only Wasuke, Jin, and Choso with his camera snooping through the doorway as witnesses for when you’re snaking a hand down to the phone bulging in Sukuna’s pocket. Quickly entering a few coordinates and a date. 

And a heart emoji.

.

.

.

“Oh- oh, shit, mama.” Sukuna’s tongue lays over the sheeny insides of your thighs, throat muddled with groans and the cloying taste of your slick gluing to his rovering mouth.

Honestly, fuck whatever tips his family had made him memorize before coming over for his lil’ ‘talk’ at your cozy apartment, as promised. Because the two of you had barely made out two or three words before Sukuna found himself sprawled on his back on your bed. 

Your knees framing his face, your clothed cunt right near his mouth.

Right near where he’s dotting your skin with hot, open-mouthed kisses that make your entire body tremble. Whimpering over your shoulder, “D-didn’t think you’d be such a tease, Kuna.”

“Because this isn’t real.” He’s breathing out, as if he’s just so sure of that fact. As if he can glide his ringed index down the dampened slit of your folds and drool- because this feels like a dream n’ he was going to savor every moment. “Fuck, there’s no way this is-”

And just at that very moment, he’s craning his head up further between your pretty, pretty legs. Greedy tastebuds darted out just so he can catch the treacly splat! of your leaking slit.

Dampening his tongue n’ drooling all down the edge of his tattooed chin, “Do you even know how many times I’ve imagined this exact moment?”

“Mmm- no-” You’re wrenching out a heady puff of air- spread on your front in the meanest sixty-nine. You gulp down your parched throat as you’re taking in the wet, bulging outline of Sukuna’s erection through his boxers. “But I can guess.”

He was just so big, aching- 

Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t just rock-hard. He was hard enough that he’s sure his round, bawling tip was damn near ready to fall off, twitching oh-so-painfully in his pants as he’s snapping back your soaked panties with a wet thwack!

Just a glimpse of the wet haven you were hiding and he’s groaning throatily, “Guess-” He hisses, close enough that the straight end of his nose slides down your puffy pussylips. Nudging your panties to the side and sniiiiiffing you, “You’ll never be able to guess how badly I want you, pretty girl.”

Never.

Never would you have even been able to register that within mere split-seconds, he’d have one beefy arm looping around your hips to make you sit on top of his mouth.

Slamming the edge of your cunt against his chin, plopping your full weight down until he’s nose-deep between your quivering legs. “Fuck-” Letting the first gush of your saccharine juices flood his throat, lips against lips. “Fuck fuck fuck- what was I even…saying?”

“W-wait–” Your breath hitches, spine arching into such a perfect curvature. You claw onto his meaty thighs in an attempt to regain balance, “You won’t be able to breathe like this, Sukuna-”

“You think I fucking care?”

It’s spat - spat - out right against the swollen nub of your clit. Hazed crimson irises rolling to the veeeery deep, dark depths of his skull at the first long gliiiide of Sukuna’s tongue from top to bottom of your pussy. 

Cheeks hollowed the very moment he’s pushin’ himself even closer, “You think I ngh- can care about anything else?” The very moment he’s tugging you back down - with the full force of his upper strength, hard enough that your heated aches with raw, primal bruises. “Be a good girl n’ put that hah- pussy on my face. Fucking- sit-”

“I don’t- fuuuuck—” Fingers twitching, it’s all you can do to fumble with the drawstrings of his wettened boxers. 

Thighs shaking at every flicker of his slimy tongue swirlin’ and stirrin’ every inch of your outer pussy. Your head muddles with the realization that Sukuna’s tongue was just so long that he could lap at your glisten hole n’ still have enough length left over to snag on your clit. “You’re not going to be the only hah- one-”

Whimpering, you find your eyes blurring up each time the ridged texture of his tastebuds glissade between your folds. Curlin’ in just past the elastic circle of your entrance-

And you’re gasping - but you don’t know whether it’s because of the lecherous intrusion or because of the way you’re pushing down Sukuna’s snug underwear to free his massive cock.

Reddened, swollen.

He’s bulging all solid and girthy that it makes your hole clench ‘round his flexible tongue. The cutest ruby-red at the top of his shaft, forming a gradient all the way down to his tight, heavy balls. Mentally, you’re counting about nine- fuck, maybe even ten damn inches that hit the end of your chin as he springs up. 

And from where you’re straddling him, you can make out what looked like a matching thick, black band of ink around his bulky hilt. 

Letting the polished pink crown of his cockhead smear out a generous dollop of pre, you’re teasing your tongue out just enough to taste the salted caramel taste. 

“You’re so…” Sinking him past your spit-slicked lips, his swabbing mushroom tip is just so big that your jaw aches just by looking at him. Just by fitting him inside, right until his drivelling slit- “-s-sho big, Sukuna.”

“Fuck- fuck-” He’s spitting into your cunt and you find yourself flinching, hard enough that his pearly white canines nip at your thighs and you cry out.

And he’s only holding you back - not letting you shift your restless hips even a single centimeter as he’s eating you out like a man dying of thirst. Dry tastebuds lavishing himself with wads of slick, Sukuna’s stuffing your tight hole with the entirety of his tongue. “You’re m-making me drool.”

You swear you’re feeling the thin line of his wet spittle stain the front of your cunt, whimpering around his bulbous cockhead. “Made ya stutter, too, Sukuna.”

“Ohhhh- talkin’ smart, are we?” Snickering, he lets off a loud spank against the front of your pussy - one that makes your bones reverberate, and your mind numb. Pushin’ back to ride the circling girth of his tongue, to ride him. “Why don’tcha put that mouth into use elsewhere?”

Elsewhere - his cock was so hot and throbbing between your swollen lips. Just the slightest slip n’ slide makes it feel like he’s pulsing all the way at the back of your throat. 

Creamin’ out a spray of syrupy precum that slides down your tongue, “So big- too big.” And yet- it was just so cute how you’re suckling him like your favorite lolly, eyes criss-crossing when you’re trying to take more. He couldn’t even bottom out. “Mmm– dunno if it’ll even all fit.”

“Well…” 

The way he’s drawling out in a smoky tone makes you ponder that this won’t be ending well for you. And Sukuna’s dark chuckle hits your cunt in a murky gust, “You’re takin’ it in from here—” Just at that sultry second, he’s crowning the snug circle of your hole with two fingers. 

Making you break out with a shrill waiiil as he sinks in the thick, calloused curves of his fingerpads. Letting such thick digits stretch you out fully, make your head spin. “So shut it n’ take this looong fucking cock, ma.”

All that it takes for him to plunge a few more throbbing inches past your maw, oh-so-big that you’re drooling down the sides of your mouth already.

Striking the edge of your throat and making you choke on his sheer size, your nose wrinkles as you’re tickled by the curly tendrils of his pinkish hair. “This enough or you want three, pretty girl-”

“I-”

Letting out such a cloying squelch that spurts from your pussy once he’s teasin’ your entrance, “Not you, mama. She wants three.”

Moaning away wildly after each pump of his fingers- Sukuna doesn’t even have to try to dip into each nook n’ orifice. Slamming to fingers down to each knobbly knuckle with a resounding slam- “See? See?” 

So cockdrunk on the feeling of his velvety tongue that you’re only partly registering the way his vocals are higher. Unsteady. 

The way you’re clamping your dewy walls in a cute, squelching smooch ‘round his digits makes his voice fucking crack. “J-just take it a bit- fuck- deeper.” Mindless little half-thrusts up into your heated mouth like he can’t even control it- “You can swallow it up like a reeeeal good girl, can’t you?”

“Mmm—” Purposefully letting off your pretty sounds all over his fleshy girth, “Yes- yes yes yes- more.”

“More?”

“More.”

As if he wouldn’t fucking ruin you if he could. 

“You want more?”

“Y-yes- oh.”

Only to be gifted with such a rude slap of his doughy palm, “Not you.” And he’s waiting for the soppy squelches leaking out from your cunt, the way you’re talking to him from your swollen lips just to continue. 

Squelch after squelch.

Your pleas only spur him to tug at the sweet, softened ring of your cunt, latching his lips over the flexing muscle. “If you say so—” Crooning, you can feel the cold hiss of his metallic rings upon the insides of your thighs. Sukuna’s biceps shifting as he starts to tug them off–

“A-actually-” You’re popping off of the strawberry-pink curve of his cocktip with a plop! a few glittery strings of pre and spit still connecting you lewdly to it. “…Keep them on?”

“Oh. Ohoho- you naughty lil’ thing.” He’s swatting over the slope of your dripping wet pussy n’ giving your clit a good pinch with his ringed fingers. “You like it like this- like- this-?”

He’s spitting out each word into your cunt, thrusting the barrelling tips of his fingerpads to graze just below your pulsating g-spot. “All those mouthy lectures?” In vulgar tandem strokes with the thwack! of his heavy, curvaceous balls slapping your chin. “And you wanna take it like- this- mama? Ohhh, it just makes me wanna…”

Trailing off, Sukuna’s body is just bulky - oh-so-tall that he can bend and reach down to cup your throat with his one free hand. 

Digging five of his fingertips into the side of your throat as he’s holding your neck and squeezing- feeling the cylindrical outline of his cock bulging your poor mouth. Up n’ down, up n’ down- he’s feeling for the precise moments his plump cockhead lodges at the back of your throat. 

“Who’d have known the cute lil’ teacher would be such a slut f’me. Cat got yer tongue, girl, orrrr—s’it just my dick?” Humming over your clit, he’s adding a fourth finger that swabs at the texture of your gummy walls. 

“F-fuck off- ngh-”

“Wha’s that? Try- try and say my name?” Squeezing. Only feeling your ripped, pathetic vibrations. “Can f-feel myself over here.”

With four neatly pushing fingers. 

Pulling back with a sluuurp–! Slowly, just so that you whimper that the knobs of his joints, just so that he can thump right on the target of your g-spot and make you cry out in cute bliss. “So s’only fair that I’m over here, pretty girl.”

“Yes- yes yes yes—” Words bubble out and slur out of your maw, in unison with such sloshing spurts of saliva. 

You’re drooling everywhere - from both pairs of lips. Your mouth over Sukuna’s hard, vein-covered erection, glazing his puffy lines of veins with sap. And your pussy slide-slide-sliiiiding down the gaping area of his mouth, wide open and eagerly lapping up each sloppy drag of your hips.

Faster.  

And now that Sukuna had actually found your most favorite spot, he couldn’t fucking stop.

Not when each whack at that same exact spot makes you splash your sweetened slick all down his throat, not when you were clenching your walls and cryin’ out at the frigid brush of his thick rings.

Again and again, he’s probin’ his crowned fingertips to push against the insides of your pussy, “Don’t think m’gonna last ngh-”

 “Yeah-” And that’s not to say his tongue was letting you off easy, either- simply aching with the feverish state of his movements. But it hurt Sukuna more any moment he wasn’t snogging your glossy cunt, n’ so he’s slapping your clit with a wet one-two. Spank after spank to make your hips jerk back and forth, “Whaddaya want? To cum? S’that it?”

Blubbering over the taste of his slick, sensitive slit, “Yes- yes, please- m’so fucking close.”

“Not. You.” Each word ended with two swats on your simmering pussy, you’re webbing his chin all down with syrupy sap. 

Moving off from your throat with a final squeeze, a bicep tightening ‘round your hips to squeeze you in place. “Not you- but you, pretty girl.” Slickly gliding back and forth all over your pried-open cunt, all over the quivering rim of your hole. Everywhere and anywhere. “Why don’tcha talk louder?”

And it’s not just you riding his tongue dry - it’s Sukuna bucking animalistically upwards, too. Pressing the ridges of his washboard abs up against your front, you’re just fountaining out so much sappy slick that it’s running down to the large mouth that he had tattooed across his stomach. As if both his ravenous mouths were gulping up each of your slick puddles. 

Crooning at the oversaturated squelch that spills out of you- he’s nodding like he’s never heard a sweeter sentence. Nudging his knuckles to bump against your g-spot, “If you say so—”

You don’t get to find out what he’s hearing - but you’re registering the gist soon enough.

Because by then Sukuna has his ringed index swiping your g-spot, coldly massaging that bundle of nerves. Hard. Sloppy. At the very same second he’s settling the fringes of his canines on your perky clit and streeeetching-

“O-oh my god I’m—” Keening out a whimper, your high runs you over like a rollercoaster. And you’re rocking your boneless body to and fro just as much, thumping your thighs into Sukuna��s sharp jawline. 

“Yes-” Clenching around his motions so hard that he has to fight to unstick his digits from the sides of your bubblegum walls, still fucking you through your lecherous high. “Oh, hell yeah, been so good for you, mama- why don’tcha reward me? Use me- hck- use me.”

As if you weren’t thrusting your cunt back into his face in a frenzy already, he’s using the arm holding onto your waist to keep you repeatedly moving. 

Tired-out. Fingers tugging into each crevice of your velvety walls. Cheeks aching and hollow where he’s putting such force on your throbbing clit to suck- “Ride my- mmmf-” Talking with his mouth full, “Ride my fuckin’ face raw- wanted to taste y’cumming on my tongue for so long.”

With your spine arched, you’re pulling off of the bulged tip of his cock just as he’s spewing out a slimy ribbon of ivory white. Just a single drivel of cum- just from the way you’re cumming. 

“God- god fucking dammit.” Sukuna spits, right into your cunt. And he barely even takes his eyes off of your slobbering pussy to snake a free hand down and plug his geysering orifice with his thumb.

Stopping himself promptly from cumming if it isn’t anywhere near your pussy.

But that didn’t mean he was letting you get away.

Oh, no- he’s still pulling you back with inclines of his head like a man addicted. Thoroughly drunk on the heady globs of slick that travelled between your legs, pushing and pushing himself upwards to glue his glossed lips all over your cunt.

You can feel yourself squealing with each lap of his scratchy tongue- the primal overstimulation too much that great droplets of tears take over your eyes. 

“O-oh– fuck- m’so sensitive, Sukuna.” You’re arching your back away- “I don’t know if I- oh!” Only to get pulled back down. Toes curling when this only spurs him to dive himself even deeper, flopping out the flexible end of his tongue to try n’ flit past your squeezing hole. 

Drawling, “Remember those fuckin’ sugar cookies? You taste- hah- even fucking better.”

Sniffling, your spine zings with a few more zaps of electricity as he’s starting to caress your sweetened g-spot once more. 

And the only thing you can do is try and pathetically pry his firmly-planted palm from his lengthy shaft, trying for the life of you to just get another taste-

“Oh. Oh.” Sukuna gasps from behind, pink brows raising. “I see what you’re doing, pretty girl. H-heh…hungry for more, are you?”

He didn’t need any further answer - because the way you’re cutely clenching to glaze his scouring digits tells him more than enough.

And before you know it, you’re finding yourself pulled off of his long, aching cock like some glorified ragdoll. Sukuna was just so large - in every sense of the word - that he could manhandle you with only one arm. 

Clinging onto the side of your waist as he’s sitting up, he makes you straddle the twitchy length of his cock. And now that you were seated upon his lap- oh, could you admire him.

Ryomen Sukuna was a fucking masterpiece. 

From the bands of tattoos circling his biceps, his wrists, straight down to the plush of his sculptured thighs. “Like what you see?” He tilts his head cockily down at you, slouching sexily back on your wooden headboard to let you take in all of his tensed core. 

Glistening pecs all temptingly large, abs ripped. 

“M’gonna get those pretty haaah- fucking initials of yours tatted.” He’s tapping the prominent side of his left v-line with a polished finger, “Right here.”

Climbing further upon his lap, you rest your ass cheeks back against his swaying cock, bobbing so hard n’ proud between your sheeny thighs. Pouting, “Only if you fuck me, Kuna— ngh-”

“Kuna? Tch- you see that lil’ tattoo here, mama?” He sounded as if he was shattering, and he’s leaning back so that you can take a goood, long look at the circular tattoo on his base. Nuzzled by the tufts of his pinkish happy trail, and his tender underside - but it was still there.

Like a target. And Sukuna’s thinking the exact same thing, “You’re gonna take it riiiight- till- here-” Lodging the swollen end of his shaft to plug your hole, it’s such a tiiight fit as he starts bullying inside. “Until- hah-” Feeling a hand down your tummy, your womb. “-here.”

He was going to fit himself until your pretty pussy won’t be able to forget him.

And it takes only seconds for you to be clawing onto his tattooed deltoids for dear life, feeling the inner parts of your thighs slip n’ slide down his own with perspiration. You scramble with the stringy, slightly-torn fabric of your panties still on- “Kuna- Su–Kuna, this-”

“Nah, let it stay.” Snickering, he claws onto the top of your scalp. “You have much…heh- bigger ngh- problems ta worry about, pretty girl.”

Bigger - his prolonged shaft was simply ravaging your walls. Plumply ballooned-up enough that his veiny layer rubs your sweetest spots without even meaning to, and you’re just seeing stars with every inch deeper his mazing cock spears through. “Fuck- fuck, it really is big-”

“Mhm– and you’re going- to take- it all.” Times like this he’s wishing he had just about four fucking hands. Because one’s pushing down, down, down on the lolling top of your head, the other’s pushin’ your trembling thighs apart just so you could straddle his meaty hips. “All hah- say my name. Say my name while you take it-”

And he always did love the way you said his name.

The way you’re letting free a few bubbly spurts of saliva as you’re babbling away–”Sukuna- Su-” Throat clogging up with so many sobs of utter bliss, “Kuna—”

“Again with the ‘Kuna’- s’not my name, silly girl.” Even though each sound of that slurring nickname makes him twitch against your deepest insides. 

But you can’t even hear him properly, eardrums distantly popped until the only thing you can feel is the thump! of your heartbeat between your legs. And the way that his reddened, slick-glazed tip was thrashing your tight insides, “Kuna- ngh, please, Kuna. Wan’ it a-all hck! Inside.”

The swabbing girth of his cock was so fat that he has you stupid with just his size, biceps bulging as he’s pressurizing down on your head. “God-” And you can only blink pathetically once he’s bringing up his free hand to your blurry line of sight. Hissing, “Bite down-” Lips smirking as you plant a kittenish bite, he fucks up into you once to make your force increase. “Bite down harder and take it.”

He wasn’t wasting any time - he didn’t have the fucking patience.

He barely even had the sanity to tease you and edge you for hours on end like he’d always wanted to. Instead fucking up into you like a damn animal- he’s swatting your cunt with the edge of his throbbing cock. Spitting through clenched teeth, “O-oh, if yer gonna ask for all of it then m’not playin’ around, ma.”

You sink your teeth in and nearly scream into the flesh of his forearm, gnawing down right at his tattoo. “Mmmpf- big- nghh–” Unable to fucking take it, the only thing you can do is arch your hips deeper and let his pummeling rams spike your poor insides.

Hitting the very back of your cervix with a wet thwack! that makes your eyes damn near bulge out of your head.

He…bottomed-out. 

“Lemme check now…” Taking a single peek at the way his hilt was all covered up by your bloated folds until he couldn’t see that tattoo anymore. “S’all in.”

And the towering man wasn’t celebrating once he did - he was pumping all his fleshy inches into you like he’d gone feral. 

Eyes dazed and hooded, mouth frothing with a line of silver drool - Sukuna grunts after each singular gliiiide of his watery orifice drawing down the bottom of your pussy. Sloppy. “F-fucking hell, never felt like this- what the…”

“Are you okay- oh god nghh–”

“M’fuckin’ more than okay.” Spitting out crassly, Sukuna swerves his hips off of the rickety bedsprings to drag his cock harder down your cunt. And it just felt so delicious to have his swollen veins stir up your walls, “S’just— who let you feel this good?”

Your honeyed cunt has made him way too pussydrunk that now he’s tattling out everything from his melty mind. And you can only whine– “Heh-” One hand grazing his scorched ear, “You’re blushing, Kuna- better not be ngh- tapping out on me.”

“Tapping out?” Punctuated by a hard spank against the door to your womb - exactly where he said he would be - and then a harder one against your mapped-out g-spot. “Me? Me tappin’ out?”

Blinking through the splotchy whites sparking in your vision, “Y-yeah- fuck!”

SPANK!

Oh-so-hard, he’s swatting your pussy with enough stinging force that it makes glittering drops of slick splash across his slamming palm. “You n’ this smartass pussy are gonna see.” He’s gritting through dangerously grinning teeth, “There’s a fuckin’ reason I’m Ryomen fucking Sukuna.”

Because he’s rude - and he fucks even ruder.

Pounding away upwards into you like he doesn’t care if he’s bruising great purple bruises at the bottom of your cervix. The mattress creaks in fervent protest after each gyration of his hips, “P-please-” The only thing you’re mewling out like a broken record, “I-it just feels so…”

Trailing off, your movements are sluggish as your hand starts to slither down between your rutting legs. Yearning to just touch your neglected clit-

SPANK!

“Oi- and who’d ya think you are to touch- hngh- my pretty girl?” He’s grinning, manhandling you in an instant. Before your candied brain can catch up, Sukuna has both your arms pinned behind your back, chin hitting his cushy pecs. “I’ll touch her when I feel like it-”

Such a fucking tease, at the constant timing of his slimy mushroom tip spearing your cunt like a headlight- Sukuna lifts off one of his hands downwards.

Replacing your own with his roughened fingers, he pinches your poor clit—“Sh-shit m’so sensitive there- keep going, Kuna–”

And at this point you weren’t just drooling you were sheening the entirety of his smooth pectorals with a shiny polish. Letting it smear down the side of your cheek as you drunkenly lean on them like pillows, “Chehhh-” He’s spitting out, staring down at the glistening glaze dripping down to his bumpy abs. “Tha’s supposed to stay inside, pretty girl.” 

“I-inside?” Dazedly, the only thing you can think of were your rummaging insides, the way that Sukuna was fucking you like he hated you.

But it was the complete opposite. And he’s draggin’ on your clit, giggling to himself like he’s in love as he watches you huff n’ puff. “God you love it like this- c’mon, ngh- teach, milk this fucking cock- why don’t ya?”

“I-I am-”

SPANK! 

“Harder, mama, make me feel it.”

With a right spank to emphasize his sentence, he’s jostling his hips upwards so you’re left throwing your head back at the full, stretching impact. Unable to even handle the slightly spring recoil that comes with striking your cervix, he’s bouncing you on his pelvis. 

“S’this what you thought about every- hah- time you saw me?” Taking hold of your neck for a brief moment, he’s spitting doooown your throat. “Wantin’ me to fuck this- ngh- pussy raw?”

And the locked restraint on your neck helps bend you into the perfect geometrical curvature to stare up at him as he collapses forwards. Hot breath wafting your features, you whimper- “Y-yes.”

“Not you.”

“Kuna.”

“I’ve been dreamin’ of this for aaages now-” His clammy forehead crinkles as he’s scratching down your clit with the rough texture of his happy trail. Leaving it all stinging n’ raw to make sure the impact is extra sensual as Sukuna rubs over a slooow ‘K’ right on top. 

Rutting into your poor cunt so hard that the skin surrounding his v-line was all reddened- and he can’t help but take one look and moan. “M’getting that tattooed.” Watching as his mean, curvaceous cock molded your walls constantly to him. “Oh- trust when I say-”

And then a ‘U’

“Fuh-fuuuuck, please-” It almost feels like you’re begging for your damn life by now, lungs ripping with moans every time he’s thumping up. You ride your hips in a sexy figure-eight and feel the way Sukuna’s thumb trembles on your clit. 

A wobbly ‘N’

And you already knew what was headed next- oh, you were already prepared. 

But what you weren’t ready for was the completely vicious way that he’s accelerating his papping hips, so fast that the dark tattoo nuzzling your entrance was almost a blur. Thump after thump- 

You’re falling over until that symbolic inking of a widely-opened maw on his stomach licks up your core. Body twitching with white hot flashes of something electric running through your veins, “F-fuck- fuck, s’not gonna last-”

“S’that soooo—?” Sukuna asks down at your pussy to confirm, and only after a few ‘uh-huh’’s does he bore into your stupidly heart-shaped eyes. Tongue lolling straight out for him to lap up into his own mouth, “She says you’re close-”

A firm ‘A’

Another SPANK!

“-and I say you’re cumming already.”

“Wh-what…”

He’s ending off with a perfect heart shape rolled over your clit. What’s that spell- he’s asking mentally. 

Only for you to mewl wantonly as if you’d just heard. “Kuna- Sukuna- Yes- yes m’cumming m’cumming—” 

It’s like you’re enveloped in a tidal wave - you didn’t know where your orgasm started and where it ended. Just that Sukuna’s moans break into something octaves higher as he fucks you through your bliss.

You claw down the expanse of his flexing back with each burst of pre splattering your gooey insides. Toes curled, eyes all teary. “I-it’s so- hck! Feels too good…”

Turning you into absolute mush every time he pumps his thorough inches into you- and the mean fingers on your nub just tug n’ tug.

And it’s only after a few more of your shrilling whines that you’re still feeling the hot entrance of his shaft plummeting through, your walls squeezing ‘round his flared tip. “I want you to cum, too, Sukuna.”

“F-fuck.” He lets out, softly.

Cupping his attractive face, if you thought you were gone then you weren’t ready for the way that Sukuna looked. Cheeks burning hot and red, mouth parted with overspilling drool, brows furrowed into such an expression that it almost makes you feel shy.

Repeating those very same words, you start sloppily swervin’ your hips straight to his. “Cum inside m- ngh, please?”

All this time and his cute lil’ teacher was still minding her p’s and q’s. 

So, of course, when you’re asking him that nicely- it’s the least he could do to listen. To let out a final, vulgar stroke that has him spilling over the edge.

In great, piling heaps of ivory cum that puddles at the bottom of your pussy. There’s so much of it that your ears ring with the lecherous sluuurp–! as your cunt walls suck up every last steaming drop. 

You can feel it trailing down the insides of your thighs like a waterfall and keen, “Just like that, f-fuck…” Almost like you’re hypnotized, you drag one of his much-larger hands to palm the outside of your tummy. “Can feel it all the way here.”

“O-oh my god…” He’s groaning, eyes drifting off to the back of his head as soon as you’re meeting his tempo. Slamming down to rob his aching balls, milking him all dry - you were overspilling and it still wasn’t enough. “Y’really are a dream.” 

And there’s something about the way he’s sluggishly brushing away a stray bead of perspiration from your temple. Something about that lazy, half-lidded look in his eyes, the complete n’ utter reverence in his tone as he asks- “So…s’your type ‘dangerous’, mama?”

Almost…shy.

Oh, it hits you. He’s pussydrunk.

You’d made big, bad Ryomen Sukuna completely and utterly pussydrunk.

To the point where his studded ears flare a deep crimson once you giggle, “Mmm- pretend dangerous, Kuna.” His eyes shine. You think back to that night at the Itadori household, “And I also remember something about quadruplets?” 

It’s then that Sukuna whimpers. 

Not even pulling out. Not even considering such an impossible feat for even a split-second before he rolls your weakened body over.

Hovering over you now, it’s so easy for his beefy arms to tug your legs over his shoulders. Still shaking. Still suffering from the aftermath of your orgasm as he’s holding them tight and bending down, down, dooooown.

Straight into a mating press. 

Oh, your breath catches.

“Before I pound you until you can’t haaah- walk, mama-” Uncharacteristically, Sukuna gulps as he shifts his crimson eyes away from you. “-m’I giving you quadruplets that’ll have my last name?”

Now that was a round-about way to ask someone out- and he knows it, too. 

But it only makes you shuffle up onto your elbows on the now-ruined sheets, sticking to you like glue. You place a lingering peck on Sukuna’s wobbly, overstimulated lips, “Mm- I love you, too, Kuna.”

Oh, how he loves you. He almost cums right then and there. 

Fuck.

He does. 

.

.

.

“You.”

“You.” Yuji narrows his eyes down at the sight of Ryomen Sukuna towering over the busy preschool pick-up. Trying to look over his broad shoulders for any sign of his father, “Huh? But dadda said he was coming to pick me up today?”

Sukuna gingerly scratches the back of his head, “Yeah, well…listen, twerp- I mean, kid. There’s something I need to-”

Only to be cut off by a dramatic gasp—“Oh no- Did dadda go to jail just like you-”

“No,”

“Did he drive fast-”

“No.”

“Did he drink-”

“No-”

“Did he slash tires-”

“Maybe once?”

And fuck- he really didn’t understand tiny children, because explain to him why the pink-haired boy starts bawling in his arms. Pitiful enough to draw the glares of parents wrenching their own children away from the perpetrator, loud enough to draw the sweet concern of you.

Walking from your station saying goodbye to one other student, “Yuji what- oh!” You’re pressing your lips together to contain your smile as you happen to see who was throwing Yuji on his shoulders to soothe him. Bouncing him lightly until he smiled- and you did, too. “I didn’t expect you so early today, Kuna.”

“Yeah, well.” He’s using Yuji’s palms to cover the pinkish ends of his blushing ears, “Decided I wanted to see ya off from work today.”

Now past grief and straight into utter nosiness- “Wait- what do you mean ‘see off’.” He gasps, “Is she going to ja-”

“Brat-”

“What your uncle means to say, Yuji-” Playfully pinching his chubby cheeks, you try to ignore the gawking stares of every other one of your remaining students as you promptly turn to face Sukuna. Giving him a sweet, sweet peck on his. “-is that you’ll be seeing a lot more of me around.”

Another gasp - well, multiple.

One from Itadori Yuji, who gapes, open-mouthed between you and his uncle - as if wondering how he ever managed to bag you, and wait does that mean you’re his auntie now?

About twenty from your crowd of students, right along with a few whispers. 

“Hey, isn’t that weird Mr. Mugshot?”

“So that’s why Mr. Mugshot was always red- eugh! In my momma’s dramas they don’t get together, they just die.”

Fushiguro frowns, “I would rather die than watch him like this. Gross.”

“Caviar.”

Walking up from the group, Fushiguro tugs on your skirt. Innocently - but Sukuna could feel the evil intent. He just knew that boy was a villain. “Inumaki asks whether you mind that he sets fires, miss.”

What the fuck is with the fires-

And then finally - three distinct, unfortunately familiar gasps that make Sukuna dread turning around. Struggling against it, even as his nephew tugs on his locks of pink hair with a delighted squeal- “Dadda–! Bubba–! Gramps-”

You smile, watching Choso take flustered pictures of his uncle. “How the hell did you even win her over? All of these are going in the blackmail folder. Maybe your wedding presentation too.”

Sukuna bites back a shy blush- turning it into a scowl, “Maybe…”

“Well, I’ll be.” Wasuke nods his head in approval, “All thanks to the ah- ‘wingmanning’ as the kids say. I’ll be expecting at least three grandchildren in the future, sonny. And when I say ‘future’ I mean in nine months-”

“Dad! It’s too early for that.” Jin, ever-the-voice-of-reason, gives you a breezy handshake. “Congratulations- by the way.” And it’s all soft. It’s all sweet- that is, until you’re trying to pull your hand back and he only tightens his grip. Smile still tightly in place, “I will be the kids’ godfather, by the way.”

Settling an arm around you now, You and Sukuna don’t know whether to laugh or stand in shocked silence as Jin finally sets you free - but you don’t have to make the choice.

Because the annoying, grating voice of Todo Aoi breaks through—“Noooooo– my bride!” 

A/N. Hope you have a lovely week <3

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

if you ever need me, just remember im only 6 messages, 8 dms and 12 missed calls away

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

I'm having way too much fun with this AU <3

[Part 1] [Part 2]

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

— ❥ [ link to my AO3 ]

— ❥ [ requests / asks ] (for requests - john price related preferably - or to say hi! <3)

— ❥ [ my art ]

🌙 nsfw / contains smut

✨ sfw / no smut

— ❥ [ somewhere only we know ]🌙 [16k words]

john price takes you on a road trip through the english countryside - just the two of you, a few pieces of his past, and the unpredictable weather

— ❥ [ where you belong ]🌙 [3.6k words]

john price knew you'd always obey — no matter how hard he pushed — and that’s what undid him.

— ❥ [ heavy, dirty soul ]🌙 [3.7k words]

after a long mission, john is exhausted, bruised and distant. you take care of him.

— ❥ [ carve your name into my bones ]🌙 [7.1k words]

butcher john price carves through flesh and bone - he never expected a florist’s touch to cut the deepest

— ❥ [ chamomile ]🌙 [8.4k words]

after a painful divorce and unexpected reunion, you and john rediscover a love that never truly faded.

— ❥ [ bite marks ]🌙 [4.4k words]

you show john exactly who he belongs to when other women won't take a hint.

— ❥ [ hold me close and tell me that it's real ]🌙 [4.7k words]

a message to a wrong number turns out to be just perfectly right.

— ❥ [ skin on skin ]🌙 [1.4k words]

a surprise waits for john when he returns home earlier than you expected…

— ❥ [ you could be the death of me ]🌙 [3k words]

disobedience has consequences, especially when it comes to john price.

— ❥ [ coming home ]🌙 [3,5k words]

three weeks apart is three weeks too long for john.

— ❥ [ caught in the undertow ]🌙 [7k words]

john made the right call that day. it could have cost you your life, but it saved a dozen others - innocent men, women and children. he made the right decision. …did he?

— ❥ [ luna sanguinis ] 🌙 [4/8 chapters, 19k words/??]

john price is dragged to a fancy halloween party, where he finds himself captivated by the stunning and mysterious hostess, victoria di corvo. (vampire!AU / kinktober)

— ❥ [ floral misdelivery ] ✨ [2k words]

overwhelmed by the task of gifting his mother flowers, john makes a mistake that turns into a chance to show you, his assistant, what you really mean to him.

— ❥ [ mirror image ] 🌙 [3k words]

john comes home from a training mission with new recruits and desperately needs to feel to be back in control over something (hint: it’s you).

— ❥ [ family dinner ]🌙 [9k words]

john asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for one night, to save himself from annoying questions from his family. turns out, you're actually who he really wants.

— ❥ [ keep me breathing ]✨ [22 chapters || 73k words]

one day, captain john price brings his team home, a small house in a london suburb, after a mission that changed everything. you didn’t know that you would soon be back in the field again, chasing demons. if only you knew that sometimes, what you believed to be true wasn’t always as it seemed… (alternative ending fic)

— ❥ [ a private lesson ]🌙 [4k words]

your husband, captain john price, insists on teaching you how to shoot at the range. but you soon realize that his instructions involve a lot more than just handling a gun.

— ❥ [ a million miles apart ]🌙 [2k words]

it's the middle of the night, and the phone is ringing. it's john, and something is wrong... but it's a different kind of urgency. (phone sex)

— ❥ [ when lilacs bloom ]🌙 [5k words]

the aftermath of a mission leaves you shaken, and only john's presence can ground you as you face a new part of your life together. (shower sex, pregnancy)

— ❥ [ the fall of crowns ]🌙 [8k words]

as a sniper, you're not exactly known for close-quarters combat. john price wants to test your limits, and you both end up pushing each other beyond the point of no return. (consensual noncon!)

— ❥ [ the wolf and the nightingale ]🌙 [14k words]

witnessing something you shouldn't have, you're thrown into a world of shadows and danger, placing you in captain price's protective custody.

— ❥ [ champagne dreams ]🌙 [9k words]

task force 141 had taken on an unusual mission for a night: they were playing bodyguards for a retired general's daughter. captain john price expected it just to be a quick and well-paid gig - turns out, he and you weren’t seeing each other for the first time, though…

— ❥ [ they say don't open old wounds ]🌙 [3,7k words]

the mask hides more than just a face; it hides a shared past, a love lost, a ghost you thought long buried.

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Bird Watching

Construction Worker!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x single mom!reader

‘Birds of a feather,

We should stick together, I know,

I said I’d never,

Think I wasn’t better alone’

Part one (2.3k words)

Part two (2.4K words)

Part three (3.6k words)

Part four (4.5k words)

Part five (6.3k words)

Part six (coming soon)

‘I knew you in another life,

You had that same look in your eyes,

I love you,

Don’t act so surprised’

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

𝔜𝔢𝔫ℌ𝔞𝔫

Yen/Xuxi ✮⋆ twenty ✮⋆ cod, one piece and music

⭑.ᐟ I do not write nsfw

✩ 𝔐𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 ✩

𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒖𝒕𝒚

TF141 & International student neighbor

Itty Bitty Breakdown

Aunt Wang VS TF141

Dinner with the Lads

S'i' Fosse Soap

Yeah, no. STEM kinda sucks

Study session with the Lads

Accidental pregnancy scare

TF141 & Retail worker!Reader - Here

Simon 'Ghost' Riley - For the lore

TF141 as types of pasta - Here

𝑼𝒑𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒈...

Simon Riley - Silent Readers Club

TF141 judging your 'Hear me out' cake

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

paladin oaths :)!

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Stop the Stars Masterlist

Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Billy Hargrove x OC Katelyn Henderson

Summary

Billy Hargrove is new in town. He has secrets to keep, a reputation to uphold, and his one rule is not to get close to anyone. He came to Hawkins against his will and he doesn’t plan to stay long.

Katelyn changes everything.

Warnings

Abuse, drug use, eventual smut and probably a lot of it, make sure to check individual chapter warnings because I’m bad at planning ahead! Katelyn is described as being Dustin’s sister and having long, very curly brown hair. But you can really imagine her however you want!

Current total word count: 11.2k

❤️‍🔥 - Smut

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three ❤️‍🔥

Chapter Four

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Real Love, Baby - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Billy Hargrove Masterlist

Taglist

Billy Hargrove x female! reader

Summary:

When you, one of Hawkins High’s Freaks, find out you’re pregnant with your secret hookup’s baby, it turns your world upside down.

Warnings:

Pregnancy, labor, birth, angst, smut, abuse, Neil Hargrove is his own warning, drinking, weed use, bullying, Billy is a dick at first, check individual chapter warnings!

Current total word count: 12.4k

❤️‍🔥 - Contains smut

Chapter One

Chapter Two ❤️‍🔥

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Part SEVEN of Simon Riley and his single mother god bless <3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six

A few more months went by -- broken up by a couple of deployments, but easily the best months of Simon's life. He started sleeping over, every once in a while, sleeping with you. Going to bed with you in his arms after a full day, a full life? It was almost too much. Too good.

He should have known it couldn't last.

Charlie turns five in January. The cold outside is bitter and biting, but there's no snow on the ground just yet, so when he asks to go play outside, it's not that difficult for him to convince you that it's a good idea.

"Please, Mum, it's my birthday," Charlie tells you, eyes wide and pleading. "Simon'll take me, you won't even have to go out there. Just want to go to the slides for a little bit, please."

Your eyes shifts to meet Simon's, and he gives you a small grin. You know he'd do anything for Charlie, Charlie knows it too. Even Emma, the little baby who's getting bigger every day it seems, probably knows it.

Half an hour and a short walk later, and Simon has Charlie at the park where all this began. He goes down the slides a few times like he wanted, then moves to the swings for a bit. It's freezing, but he's having a blast, and so is Simon.

These little moments are getting easier with time and practice. It feels like his heart is expanding, widening to bring in you and your children, the flesh pulled taut but still sturdy, capable of holding all of it.

Until it snaps.

It happens so fast. Charlie always has seemingly boundless energy, but it's been kicked up a notch this afternoon with the excitement of his birthday. He runs wild around the deserted park, laughing and playing, hardly stopping to think as he climbs one of the narrow sets of steps that lead up towards the slides. He makes a detour this time, wanting to try the monkey bars. Simon keeps a watchful eye on him, but the boy isn't paying enough attention, and slips as he tries to navigate the high bars.

He falls to the ground, hard, and Simon hears the unmistakable snap of bone breaking. Charlie starts wailing, piercing and immediate, and Simon does a quick assessment, trained enough to keep his head even as his heart races.

There's no blood, no visible injuries besides his left arm, bent in a way it isn't supposed to go.

"You're all right, Charlie," he says quietly, carefully picking him up, making sure to keep his arm stable. "Going to get you taken care of, hear me?"

It's a quick walk back to your house, followed by a quick drive to the hospital with you and Emma in tow. Charlie's crying sets off the baby, and you're quietly weeping too, trying to tend to Charlie, and Simon navigates the streets with a clenched jaw, certain that he's destroyed everything.

Once everyone is inside the hospital, it's another quick blur of doctors and nurses poking and prodding Charlie, followed by an x-ray that confirms the clean break in his upper arm. The boy is sedated so the bone can be set, and then, while you wait for him to wake back up and while Emma finally calms, there's a stretch of silence.

Finally, you look up from the hospital bed to Simon, studying him with a frown, before saying, "You've been very quiet."

When Charlie hit the ground, Simon felt like he'd gotten the wind knocked out of him himself, and he hasn't been able to catch his breath since. It feels like the sadness, the constant weariness he'd felt for as long as he can remember, that emptiness that you'd filled so perfectly, was clawing its way back inside him. Like it never left, and you were just a pretty distraction but not something he could ever really have.

After a moment of strained silence, he mutters, "I ... fuck, I'm so sorry, love. So sorry. I shouldn't have let him on those fucking bars, I should have --"

"Stop," you tell him, your voice low too as Emma dozes in your arms. "Are you blaming yourself for this?"

"My fault," he admits. "I was the one watching him."

"Simon, don't ..."

He wants to apologize again, but he doesn't want to make you feel like you need to comfort him, but there's no way he can put on a neutral face right now ... he tries to take a deep breath, tries to finally catch it but it eludes him again.

"It's not your fault," you tell him firmly. "Accidents happen. He's a tough kid, he's going to be all right."

"He shouldn't have gotten hurt, not on my watch," he insists.

"Do you honestly think there's something you could have done differently? That you willingly let him do something unsafe?"

He racks his brain -- the logical part of him knows that it's not right. He's always careful with the children, and if he'd thought that Charlie could have gotten hurt like this, of course he would have stepped in. But the panic still rises persistently in his chest, flashing him images from a future in which you stop being understanding, where you understand how dangerous he is, how unworthy of everything you've given him. He's seconds away from being alone again, and it would be worse now that he knows what it's like to be loved.

"Simon."

Your voice is firm, solid and strong like it was that very first day when he heard you command Charlie to stop messing around on the playground. Charlie was too young and headstrong to listen then, but Simon wants, more than anything, to listen.

"It's not your fault," you tell him again. "Stop. It's not your fault."

You wrap your free arm around him, your grip firm, and he takes a shaky breath, then another. His eyes find Charlie, still out cold, and he shakes his head, but you give him another squeeze.

"It's not your fault."

That night, Charlie goes home with a sling, drowsy but no longer in pain. He asks Simon to carry him inside, and when he does, he asks him to stay, his good arm slung around his shoulder while Simon carefully cradles the one in the sling.

"Can it still be my birthday tomorrow?"

"It can be your birthday all month long," you tell him, putting Emma down on the floor with some toys.

After you make sure both your children are good for the moment, you pull Simon to the hallway, close enough to keep an eye on the kids but far enough away to speak privately.

"Are you ok?"

"Not the one you need to be asking."'

You give him a pointed look, one he knows by now means that you want him to stop being strong or stoic or whatever else and just be honest.

"I'm ... nervous," he confesses. It feels like a weak word to describe what he's feeling, but it's in the right arena, at least.

"About what?" you ask.

"That I ... that you'll want me to leave."

Your eyes widen, and you shake your head immediately, pulling him down for a hug. Your hands stroke his back and his hair, struggling to pull him even closer, and you start whispering to him. More of what you said earlier -- it was an accident, it wasn't his fault, just an accident.

What cuts through though, like a lightning rod through whatever storm is going on inside him, is when you say, "I don't ever want you to leave."

He pulls back, troubled eyes meeting yours.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, Simon. I love you. Don't leave."

It's the first time you've ever said it. You've danced around it before -- "Charlie loves you, the kids love you, we love having you around" -- but never as plain as this. He's done the same, told you in actions every day, in promises to take care of you, but actually saying the words ...

"I love you too," he says. "More than anything."

Charlie's birthday does, for the most part, last the whole month. Simon slowly starts to feel the air come back into his lungs, breathing a little easier every time Charlie acts like himself. When the boy slips, every once in a while, and calls him Daddy, or when Emma grips his hair in her chubby little fist. When you tell him that you love him, with words or kisses or promises ...

It's another lesson. Another piece of evidence that, despite everything he's ever believed about himself, he has value even when he's not perfect.

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Duke(King)dom Fae AU

Beginnings

Continuation

Pets || oneshot + very beautiful art by @just-a-little-nut 💕🫶🏼 || Glowy the Moth + cutest glowy art by @grombs-blog

Jealousy

Bathtime

Adored Humanity

Softness (not canon compliant)

The Pets vs Queen Mother

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Chapter 7

Rainstorm

AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 4.9k Words

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

The den proved to be way more than Celeste had bargained for.

It turned out that leaving it virtually uninhabited for months allowed for small issues to grow into much larger ones. When Celeste and Alice finally cracked open the door the day after the anniversary, Celeste had been immediately overwhelmed. There were boxes stacked everywhere, sheets covering the furniture to help with the dust, and it seemed that every step and glance unlocked a memory she had been trying to stuff down all year. But Alice had been there, careful to slip things out of Celeste’s sight if she saw something first, resorting once to abruptly shoving it into her shirt as Celeste came over to see what she had found.

Alice couldn’t stay forever, though. She had work to get back to, and after forcing Celeste to promise her she’d keep going through the room, she left. They had plans to get together over the summer, especially when Alice noticed that the ‘weird’ neighbors had a boat. Apparently, the thought they could go out on the lake negated any oddity factor. ‘We can just push them overboard’ was Alice’s argument. Celeste didn’t bother to correct her that she would, in fact, not be making friends, and they would still not be going out on the lake unless they swam.

“That’s not drinking water!” Celeste hissed as she shooed Samson away from the bucket that was presently collecting a leak from the ceiling.

The yellow and brown spot on the ceiling was a huge halo and water was dripping from its center at a steady pace. Celeste hadn’t even noticed until Alice stepped into a wet spot on the carpet and let out a disgusted noise as she pulled back her soaked socked foot. The leak had to have been there for weeks, and Celeste was extremely apprehensive of what she would find on the roof, the rest of the ceiling, and underneath the horrendous burnt orange carpet.

The den was the one area her husband’s mother had not been allowed to decorate. That was the ‘men’s’ area, where her husband and his dad would spend all of their time together. Hence, the horrible colored carpet. The wall color was no better, a beige that could only be described as semi burnt toast, and the furniture was a bunch of mismatched monstrosities. The whole room was out of place compared to the rest of the house, but the chaos worked together somehow.

Dumping the full bucket of water out the window Celeste quickly placed it under the drip again and sighed as she fell back on her bottom to stare up at the problem. The spring rains were torrential, as they were every year, and the water was dripping in a fast staccato. The paint was starting to bubble under the drip, and she could see the water pooling in the gap before it dropped into the old paint can she had found in the garage. No one was going to come out in this weather to fix a roof; there would be no way, and the damage was probably far worse than just a patch job.

“Tomorrow’s problem,” she muttered before looking at the rest of the problems she had to get through.

Dragging a box to her she started shuffling through it, picking out each piece and setting them into piles in a half circle around her. Keep for herself, ask his family if they wanted it, donate or trash. It was a slow process, and the room grew darker by the minute as the sun that had been behind the clouds all day started to set. She needed to get up and turn on a light, but the loose paper that seemed to have been a journal of her husband’s when he was younger caught her attention. So much so that she didn’t pay much mind to the sucking noise as the ceiling paint separated even more from the sheetrock. Nor did she hear the cracking until it was too late.

The large yellow ring had been where the ceiling finally gave way. The sheetrock tumbled down in chunks, knocking over the nearly full can of water and all over her piles of items. Tufts of insulation followed, hitting the soaked carpet in loud splats, which was also completely soaked.

“Oh shit!” Celeste yelled as she scrambled away from the mess. The water was now coming down in multiple steady streams, and it was soaking everything around, including the things she planned on keeping and boxes she hadn’t gotten to yet.

Mumbling multiple curses to herself she frantically grabbed things. She shoved them away, slipping on the wet carpet and cutting her hands and arms on some stray nails and sharp corners. Samson had abandoned ship the moment the waterfall hit, and she saw him sitting in the hallway attempting to clean himself, despite the fact he looked half drowned. Reaching for the light to better see the damage and to make sure everything was out of the way, Celeste flipped the switch. The ceiling light popped and flashed loudly before going out, and she could hear a sizzling noise. This was a much bigger problem than she thought, and now she was terrified she was going to burn the place to the ground thanks to a short in the old wiring.

Tomorrow’s problem had just turned into this moment’s catastrophe, and she needed help now. But who could she call? Nine nine nine? This wasn’t a life-threatening issue, well, at least not yet. Was there such a thing as an emergency electrician line? Roofers?

Wiping her hands on her pants, which was a mistake because they were coated in insulation, Celeste dug her phone out of her pocket and started frantically searching. The water was falling so fast she wouldn’t have been surprised if she looked through the hole and could see the sky outside. But she was too afraid to walk over to it in bare feet, her bleeding hands were enough of a deterrent for sharp objects. But there was also the fact the floor was already wet, had been wet for days, maybe weeks, what was stopping her from standing in the spot and going crashing through to the kitchen?

Even with the light off she could smell what she could only correlate to ozone, the smell when an electrical storm was about to tear apart the sky. The light was off in that room, but there was still power in her house. Her avoidance of the den was proving to be a gigantic issue and she felt the panic really settle in as she thought about how bad this was. Maybe she could call her former father-in-law and swallow the embarrassment of what she had done. But he was still hours away, and while handy, he certainly was not up to speed to handle something like this. And she was not having a man in his sixties get on a ladder in the rain.

Scrolling on her phone not really seeing what she was looking at as her mind spiraled, headlights blasted through the window making her squint a bit. Then she snapped her head up to look out the window to see her neighbors had just pulled in. They were updating and fixing their place and she knew how bad of shape their house was in. Maybe they would know what to do to at least save her place from more damage and not risk catching on fire until she was able to get someone out there.

Throwing her own rules about not making friends, or encouraging any sort of relationship with her neighbors aside from friendly waves, out the window she bolted for the stairs. Samson was still trying to clean himself, and she scooped him up in her run and deposited him in the kitchen while pulling on her tennis shoes. She left the kitchen door cracked so Samson had a way out of the place if it suddenly combusted and she ran out in the rain, not caring about a jacket. She was already soaked, covered in dirty water and bits of insulation; a jacket wasn’t going to help her.

“Hey!” She yelled as she jogged over her gravel driveway and toward the line of trees between their properties. “Hey! Ah…John?” She tried as she saw a head pop up from the boot where he had bent over to pull something out. He hadn’t been around in a few days, least she hadn’t seen this car in a while.

“Celeste?” John asked as he peered at her, reaching his hand up to close the boot. She looked a mess, the light-colored shirt she wore was soaked and stuck to her skin on her left side, and she had pink little fluffs all over her pants. But most concerning was her wide eyes and rivulets of blood on her arms.

“I know you’re just getting home,” Celeste started as she pushed her hair out of her face as the rain continued to pelt her. “Well, I don’t know that, I’m just assuming,” she continued, the voice a few octaves higher than normal, giving away the panic. “I have a small issue at home, and I was,” she huffed, turning to look back at the house to make sure it in fact was not on fire or half the roof wasn’t caved in. “My den had a leak apparently, and it’s really bad,” she tried to explain before stopping herself from rubbing her eyes where water had run in them, her hands still having little fiberglass pieces on them. “And I turned on the light, and something popped.”

John blinked a few times as he listened to her explain, sounding like she was two steps away from hysterical babble. She looked frantic as she kept glancing over her shoulder to her house before back to him, hands fidgeting for something to hold in her panic.

“Let me put this inside,” John said calmly, raising his duffle to indicate what ‘this’ was. “Then I can come take a look. Why don’t you come in and get out of the rain?”

“No, I need to get back, Samson,” Celeste started before forcing herself to fist her hands in her shirt to keep from touching her face. “And get this insulation off,” she muttered as she twisted to look at her house again.

“If that is insulation you need to shower,” John said suddenly as he peered at her. “And toss those clothes for that matter,” he added as he looked at her pants. “Go do that right now. I’ll be there in a moment.”

It was Celeste’s turn to blink at him. She didn’t realize how bad the insulation really could be. Did she shut the den door when she ran out? What if Samson was back up there poking around? Without another word, trusting John meant that he would be right over; she turned tail and jogged back to her place.

“Took you long enough,” Johnny greeted John from the couch as the man walked in the front door. “What were you doing out in the rain?”

“Celeste caught me,” John answered as he tossed his duffle at the stairs. “Problem at her place,” he explained, which caught Simon's attention in the kitchen.

“What kind of problem?” Simon asked as he rounded the counter, his back already stiff as if there were some threat.

“Not sure yet, some sort of roof leak,” John answered. “She said something about her lights popping, and she’s covered in insulation.”

“That’s all you,” Johnny answered as he unmuted the television and settled back down on the couch. “Simon said she’s got some leaky pipes too.”

“Downstairs bathroom,” Simon answered with a crooked grin, not bothering with his mask when they were inside with just the four of them.

“It’ll be your problem if I need help,” John answered as he grabbed a rain jacket off the hook and shrugged it on. “Where’s Kyle?”

“Here,” Kyle said from the top of the stairs as he tossed a towel over his shoulder after having just finished getting dressed from his shower. “I can go with you,” he offered, “if it’s a roof leak, you aren’t getting on a ladder.”

“And neither are you,” John countered immediately, his eyes darting to where he knew the bullet scar would be in Kyle’s shoulder under his shirt. “But I could use you anyway, she’s pretty shaken. Looks like she cut herself a bit too.”

Kyle jogged down the stairs, grabbed the first jacket he laid his hand on, and followed John out into the rain. It was coming down in buckets now, and they walked quickly through the tree line and up to the house, peering up to see if they could find any damage from the ground. Everything seemed to be in working order, but that didn’t mean anything aside from the fact that the whole thing hadn’t toppled in.

“Celeste! It’s John and Kyle,” John called as they walked in the back door and knocked their shoes against the door jam. It didn’t look as if she were too worried about mud in the house as he could see her shoe prints leading from the kitchen to the living room. She had ditched her shoes at the stairs though, and it seemed her clothes as well. At least she had listened about getting out of them as quickly as possible.

“Celeste?” John called again. He looked around at the ceilings and didn’t see any damage on the first floor. Kyle was also looking around, though he was being nosey instead of trying to be helpful. He had wandered over to her coffee table and picked up a book she had been reading.

“It’s John and Kyle. I don’t want to scare you,” John added as he heard the water cut from a shower.

“Top of the stairs, second door on the left!” Celeste yelled through her bedroom door. It was a quick shower, she didn’t even shampoo, it was just to get all the itchy insulation off. “Second door!” she emphasized because if they opened the first, they’d be walking right in on her.

“Who reads history books for fun,” Kyle muttered as he set the book back down on the coffee table before both he and John said ‘Simon’ at the same time.

Celeste pulled on the first things she could find, fighting with her sweats as her legs were still wet from her rough drying job. Her top was dirty, but it was presentable enough, and she clipped her sopping hair in a messy bun atop her head. She hadn’t addressed the scratches and one particularly deep gouge on her arm, which were still bleeding, but they could wait. She needed to get the water to stop soaking her house and probably cut the power to the den, but she had no idea which fuse it was.

“Small issue?” John asked as he stood just inside the doorway to the den and glanced up at the hole in the ceiling, bits of sheetrock dangling and barely hanging on as more rain soaked them.

“I thought saying my ceiling exploded would be too dramatic,” Celeste answered anxiously as she stood at the door, watching John and Kyle peer up at the mess and around the room at everything. They carefully avoided the most soaked spot of the rug, and Kyle toed a box to the side a bit more to make sure it was out of the splash zone.

“I think that’s an understatement at this point,” Kyle answered with a grin as he looked to John for what was next. He could tell this was going to be a job but he certainly had no idea where to start. John had been leading the way on all the renovations at their place, telling them what needed to be done and how to go about it. John’s father used to build houses so he had taught John from a young age what to do, dragging him to job sites while his friends were enjoying their weekends and summers.

“Do not turn on any lights in this room,” John warned as he circled, eyes looking at the walls and outlets to make sure he didn’t see any burn marks. “Or any of the upstairs for that matter,” he tacked on as Celeste quickly swiped off the hallway light. “Until we can get into the attic and see what’s what.”

“The breaker is downstairs, but I wasn’t sure what to pull,” Celeste answered as she clamped her left hand over the cut on her right arm to stem the bleeding. The sting of the injury was finally starting to set in but she just pressed harder to numb it. “If you can just tell me which one I can do it…then I guess I can get some totes to collect water and toss them out every few hours overnight.”

“We can tarp off the roof,” John stated as he looked at Kyle who was staring at him. “Rain isn’t letting up any time soon.”

“Johnny can climb on the roof,” Kyle stated as he dug his phone out of his pocket. “He won’t melt.”

“I don’t want you all-” Celeste started as Kyle walked over to a window to talk to Johnny on the phone. “I can call someone tomorrow to come out and look at all the damage. I just wanted to make sure I would survive the night without having to worry about the roof coming in.”

“We can help with that,” John stated simply. “Some of it may be out of my hands but I can at least look at it in the daylight and make sure no one tries to rip you off,” he offered. “Show me where the breaker is then let Kyle patch that up.” He nodded toward her arms where she had marks all over them.

Back downstairs Celeste let Samson out of the laundry room now that she felt a bit safer about a fire and showed John where the breaker was. He was already on his phone scrolling, looking up different items, and asking Celeste things about the house for verification. Most of them she didn’t know, such as when it was last wired, what year the roof was put in, and where the attic access was, among other things. Those were all her husband’s knowledge, and the more she said ‘I don’t know’, the worse she felt.

“It’s fine, he’ll figure it out,” Kyle stated as he picked up on Celeste’s face falling with each question. “He probably doesn’t need to know half those things anyway,” he tacked on, leveling John with a look that told him to shut his mouth. “Let’s see that arm.”

As Kyle tended to her arm, carefully wiping away the blood and picking through Celeste’s meager first aid kit, Johnny and Simon showed up at the backdoor. The kitchen had always felt like it was a decent size, enough for company to gather and talk. But now it felt small and cramped with all of them in there. Perhaps it was because the four men were all large and could probably count as two men each with their size. It also didn’t help that she was sitting at the table feeling like a useless child as Kyle wrapped her arm.

“I really didn’t mean for you all to have to come over,” Celeste muttered as Johnny wiped his hand through his mohawk, and bits of water flew off. “I’m going to get someone out here first thing to take care of it. I promise you don’t need to feel like…”

“It’s not a problem,” Johnny answered with a grin. “I’ll never hear the end of it from John anyway. He’ll fret all night about you if we leave you alone with this ‘fucking implosion,’ as Kyle described it.”

“Go be useful and get a ladder and the tarp,” John huffed as he slid his phone out from his ear, ending whatever phone call he had just made.

“I’ve got one in the garage,” Celeste stated, “it’s in working shape…unlike the rest of my stuff it seems.”

“Already have the tarp,” Simon said as he gestured to the bright blue item on the counter, along with rope and bungee cords. “Our roof had a leak when we first moved in,” he explained as Celeste stared at it curiously. “And give me my jacket if I’m going back out in this,” Simon tacked on as he held his hand out to Kyle for it.

As Johnny and Simon stepped back out into the rain and John went back upstairs, Celeste let out a sigh and slumped into her chair. The last thing she wanted was to put them all out like this. But now she had four men assisting her and she knew she was going to feel obligated to pay them back somehow. Be a friendlier neighbor and get to know them, as Alice had instructed her to do. Shit, Alice was going to have an absolute field day when she heard about all of this.

“Don’t let John fool you,” Kyle stated as he took his seat again and watched Celeste. “He loves this stuff. It’s not work to him.”

“It feels like work. And favors, lots of favors, that I won’t be able to repay,” Celeste answered as Samson pawed at her for dinner. The disaster was nothing in his little mind compared to getting his food. “And if one of them gets hurt on the roof or falls off in this rain,” she stated, suddenly sitting up straighter as if she were going to go outside and tell them to stop right then and there.

“Helping someone doesn’t require payback,” Kyle answered lightly as Celeste seemed to mull over a million different scenarios in her head. “Johnny has fallen and busted his head more than once,” he joked as Celeste glanced over at him, eyes still a bit of a deer in headlights. “They’ll be fine. Climbing on roofs in the rain is the least hazardous thing they’ve done in a while.”

With a sigh, needing a moment to breathe, Celeste went into the pantry to find Samson his food. He was hot on her heels as she pulled down the container of kibble, and she popped it open to find it empty. Pushing up on her tiptoes, she looked on the shelf for the bag; sure, she just hadn’t poured the rest out into the green tub, but there was none, not even a stray piece of food on the shelf.

“Shit,” Celeste groaned, feeling as if everything were just piling on her. This is what she got for putting things off all the time. For coming home and always saying ‘tomorrow’. It was one thing not to feed herself, but to miss getting Samson's food was a whole other. Looking at the clock on the stove, she knew she would not get to the store in time, and Samson meowed pitifully as he wound between her legs.

“I’m sorry, buddy,” Celeste stated as she felt the tears finally well up. He looked at her expectantly. “I forgot to,” she huffed wiping at her face with the back of her hands. “I’ll have to find you something else.” She hiccupped as she looked at the shelves with bleary eyes trying to find something she could feed him. The weight of everything was bearing down on her and forgetting a bag of cat food was apparently going to be her tipping point.

Kyle was doing his best to give Celeste a second, contemplating going upstairs to help John, when he heard the hiccup. He turned instantly in his chair to look back at her and saw her with her head rested on a shelf, doing her best to keep herself quiet. He rose from the chair instantly and was at her side at the pantry as Samson continued to yowl at their feet.

“Hey,” Kyle said softly as he came to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s alright,” he coaxed as she turned her face to him. Her eyes were still brimming with tears and he knew she was barely hanging on by a thread. “I’m sure we could convince Simon to get a bit of chicken. I think he carries it in his pockets for the little guy. He’s always hanging around back when Simon’s out,” he joked as Samson took to half climbing on the shelf to beg.

“No, I can’t ask for more,” Celeste started before Samson gave the most pitiful meow yet, as if he were withering away. “Damn it,” she groaned as the tears spilled over and down her cheeks. “My house is falling apart; I can barely take care of myself and now I have to ask my neighbors for food to feed my cat. Because I am failing. At everything.” The overwhelming feeling that she had been fighting was starting to bubble over and she could feel the anxiety pushing at the seams.

“You’re not,” Kyle answered firmly as he ducked down a bit to get on her eye level. “You’re doing things alone, which is hard,” he affirmed as she avoided his gaze. He wasn’t about to tell her he knew just what was haunting her, so he stuck with what he was supposed to actually know. “A leaking roof and a hungry cat are hardly signs of a failure,” he continued as she trembled, fighting so hard to not cry in front of him and put on a brave face.

He could see the walls starting to go up behind Celeste’s eyes, that she was about to stuff down all the emotion and then cry alone to herself later as she probably did often. Just the thought of her curled up in her bed sobbing made Kyle’s chest physically ache. Before he asked, or she could pull away, he tugged her into a hug. It was quick and strong as he pulled her to his chest, and surprisingly, she didn’t lurch back. She sagged into him, and he squeezed a bit tighter as she buried her face into his chest and cried, her hands wrapping around him and holding on almost as tightly as he was to her.

Celeste knew she would regret this in about five minutes, but at the moment it felt too good to pass up. She couldn’t remember the last time she had fallen apart around someone and been held, comforted, like this. Alice was one thing but Celeste would be lying if she didn’t say Kyle was different. This felt safe, it felt reassuring, strong, and warm, and all the things she missed about her husband. His steady presence, his unwavering optimism, and his ability to fend off the fears and stress in her life by just holding her. And as the thoughts of her husband washed over her, and how she wouldn’t get to feel that with him again, she clung harder to Kyle.

Kyle remained quiet as Celeste sobbed, one hand rubbing soothing circles on her upper back. He could still hear John moving around upstairs and the guys messing with the ladder. He silently thanked whoever was listening for giving them a few minutes of privacy. He knew the minute one of the other guys came in the moment would be over. And judging by how Celeste was gasping, she needed this release, a few minutes of falling apart where someone would be there to keep her grounded.

When she quieted a bit and let go of her white knuckle grip on his shirt, Kyle leaned toward the kitchen table and grabbed a napkin. He didn’t let go of her fully though, careful to let her to decide when to step back. Kyle knew if he was the first to push away, she’d question it later, be embarrassed, or any of the other million things that went on inside of her head. He had managed to get through one of her barriers, he wasn’t about to let her reinforce them.

“Here,” he said quietly, looking to the side to give her a second to compose her face. His shirt was soaked from her tears, but he didn’t acknowledge it as she wiped her eyes and nose. “Don’t,” he added as Celeste opened her mouth, ready with an apology and explanations. “This wasn’t a favor or anything you need to repay. No need to explain yourself either,” he smiled down at her, and she gave him a very weak one back.

“Thanks,” Celeste said quietly as she looked up at the ceiling to try to rein in the tears. The look of sympathy on Kyle’s face and perhaps a deep understanding of what she was feeling almost made her fall apart again. But he wasn’t giving her the belittling pity that she’d come to expect from strangers. It was recognition. As if he knew her suffering ran deeper than a collapsed ceiling and lack of groceries; what the true catalyst for her crumbling was.

While her husband’s death wasn’t a secret, it was easy to look up online, she couldn’t help but wonder how he did know. And what else had he figured out about her?

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

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[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

Chapter 6

Friends and intrigue

AO3 (Full list of tags/warnings. Please check them.) Masterlist 4.4k Words

Chapters 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

“How long have you planned this?” Celeste asked from the couch after she had been sufficiently stuffed with homemade baked ziti.

“Few weeks,” Alice answered as she nudged the fruity mixed drink she had made toward Celeste. “Thought I almost spoiled it on our last call.”

Celeste thought back briefly to the call, and an innocuous comment about airports being busy at this time of year had gone right over her head. She hadn’t truly been locked in on a conversation in a long while, so to her it wasn’t a surprise she missed it.

“I’m surprised you didn’t just flat out tell me,” Celeste answered after a second, taking a sip of the drink that was about three times too strong. “When was the last time you managed to keep a secret?”

“I can keep secrets!” Alice answered indigently as she downed the last dregs of her drink and headed to the fridge to get more from the pitcher. “Just…not that well from you.”

“My point,” Celeste responded as she curled her feet up on the couch. “Now I’m beginning to doubt your sincerity that you didn’t call William back when he asked for his third chance…” she grinned around her glass at the offhanded note.   

“Rude!” Alice snapped from the doorway as she pointed with the hand that held her glass. “And I didn’t call William back because I don’t think Shaun would appreciate that,” she tacked on with a laugh as Celeste looked at her wide eyed. “Hang on, this calls for cookies.” Alice disappeared into the kitchen again.

It seemed that while Celeste was at work, Alice had swept in and did exactly what Alice had always done; take care of her. The house had been picked up, the layer of dust and tumbleweeds of cat hair that would have made Celeste squirm with embarrassment had anyone else seen it were gone. The ring marks all over the glass coffee table from drinks wiped away, and much to Celeste’s protests her pantry and fridge were pretty well stocked again. Not to mention, laundry that had just been piles of dirty versus clean was sorted, and the machine was currently running. Of the pair Alice was certainly the neat freak, though Celeste usually didn’t let the house get so far behind. It was hard to find motivation when it was just her and nothing else.

“Shaun is a very cute courier that comes into the lab to drop packages,” Alice explained as she dropped back down in the armchair across from the couch. “Walked me to my car when it was pouring and…maybe we made a pitstop to the back of his van.” She smirked as she shoved a cookie in her mouth at the end of her explanation and tried not to laugh at the look Celeste gave her.

“The back of a van! Alice!” Celeste admonished with a laugh, a real laugh, as her friend laughed along with her.

“It’s roomier than the back of a car!” Alice answered as if that were an obvious reason. “All above clothes, he has to take me to dinner before he gets any of this,” she explained with a wave of her hand over her body. When Celeste raised an eyebrow at her she huffed, “fine. Any of this in person.”

“There it is,” Celeste laughed. “Let’s see then,” she paused as Alice smirked. “Him! Not you. I’ve seen enough of your dirty pictures to last me a lifetime.”

 “Someone has to make sure I get my good side,” Alice answered as she dug out her phone and came over to the couch to show Celeste the pictures. “See? Cute.” She stated as Celeste scrolled.

“I mean, I guess,” Celeste answered with a tilt of her head before swiping and finding a picture that very much was not Shaun. “Why do you have a picture of my neighbor?”

“Ah,” Alice said before snatching the phone back. “He may have caught me breaking into your house…then helped” she admitted with a small wince. “Your key was missing,” she started to explain.

“He broke into my house?” Celeste asked suddenly sitting up a bit straighter.

“Under my supervision,” Alice tacked on. As if Alice could do absolutely anything to Simon besides annoy him. “Hence the picture. So if I was murdered there was evidence.”

 “I need better locks,” Celeste muttered as she looked at Alice.

“Funny, that’s what he said,” Alice answered with a smirk. “What’s up with that anyway? He didn’t talk a whole lot, just hovered while I worked.”

“How long was he in here for?” Celeste was certain she was going to die from embarrassment at this point.

“Just…a bit. I needed help with a few things, and since he wouldn’t leave, I put him to work,” Alice paused as Celeste let out a sigh. “I didn’t let him see your underthings! I’m a better friend than that,” and when Celeste cut her a look she finished. “He just brought my stuff in for me, asked a few questions…and helped me reach the areas I couldn’t to dust.”

“You coerced the gigantic masked guy to help you…dust,” Celeste inquired, “you know what? That doesn’t shock me nearly as much as it should.”

“I’m persuasive, or annoying, whatever works,” Alice answered with a shrug. “Since I feel like I’ve surprised you enough, I’ll give your nerves a rest this evening. But we’re going to talk about all those unpacked boxes I found and the den before I leave in a few days.”

“Do we have too?” Celeste asked, and when Alice gave her a firm nod, she sighed.

“Now, back to Shaun and how I accidentally sent William a message meant for him,” Alice continued as if the conversation hadn’t just turned dark for a moment.  “Well…I told William it was an accident anyway.”

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

“Slick,” Johnny said into the kitchen as Simon tossed dishes into the dishwasher.  

“It’s not hard when people aren’t paranoid,” Simon answered as he stood up and looked at Johnny and Kyle sitting at the island staring at him. He told them everything that had transpired between him and Alice while they ate; he was going to make sure they had something besides prepackaged meals so help him. “I could have probably tricked her into giving me her number,” he tacked on with a smirk.

“Could just be your charm,” Johnny teased as he hipped Simon out of the way to finish cleaning up. “You’re irresistible, especially when you creep up on people and scare the shit out of them.”

“Worked on you,” Simon replied as Kyle chuckled. “I wouldn’t laugh,” he added as Kyle pressed his lips together, “because you are no better.” And when Kyle held his hands up in mock surrender Simon rubbed the back of his neck, rolling it a few times.

Alice had kept him working for longer than he would have liked to admit. He disguised it as to keep an eye on her because she could still be up to no good. In reality, he had caught on quickly that she really was Celeste’s friend, and all she really had been up to was his nerves. Hanging around had been a good enough excuse to snoop through Celeste’s house, though anytime he spent too long lingering somewhere, Alice would crop up to stare at him. Neither truly trusted the other, which was fine.

“So what else?” Kyle asked as he lounged on the couch, leaning into Johnny’s raised arm on the back of it as he flipped channels on their limited television.

“What else what?” Simon replied as he sat down hard into the armchair, the furniture creaking ominously under his bulk.

“I know you didn’t just dust,” Kyle said as Johnny settled on some grainy movie, tossing the clicker onto the coffee table. “What did you find?”

“Aside from the fact her house feels like an empty museum?” Simon replied as he ran a hand over his face. “Nothing. Nothing weird or…well, really anything. Just a house that feels half unfinished, a few leaky pipes, and shit security.”

“John can fix the pipes, he loves doing that shite,” Johnny replied as Kyle leaned further on him, feeling the other man’s shoulders tense at the mention of Price. John had been gone with radio silence for four days. “So, in other words your dismal apartment,” Johnny finished.

“Piss off,” Simon said.

“Have you been able to figure out what happened?” Johnny asked Kyle after a second, pulling him from the spiral of thoughts he had just gone down. He had done his best to avoid John all day and he managed to undo his hard work in just seconds.

“Once you got the name off the dart board it wasn’t too hard,” Kyle answered. He had taken what he learned about Celeste through conversation, tax records on the property, and some googling to find just what had happened. “Tomorrow is one year since the accident.”

Celeste had been married almost a decade; they had been together almost fifteen years total when her husband was killed in a car wreck.  It had been a freak accident, late at night in a rainstorm. The articles Kyle had found had been unremarkable without much detail. Just there was no alcohol or anything of the like involved and he had been the only person that died.

“Explains the friend,” Johnny answered as he dropped his hand to wrap around Kyle’s upper arm to tug him a bit closer. Death was a companion they all walked with on the daily, but he knew John not being there and having zero word from the man was eating Kyle. So talking about a sudden death was certainly not going to help his nerves. “Hopefully she’ll be able to keep Celeste from stumbling off that dock for a few days so we can get a break from babysitting.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Simon answered. “Both of them will end up in the water if they drink that fruit disaster Alice made,” he explained. “It’s a straight mix of three different types of alcohol and a dash of fruit to make it somewhat drinkable.”

“Not everyone likes scotch and whiskey,” Kyle interjected. “A little sweet never hurt anyone.”

“Disgusting,” Simon replied before he stretched back in his chair for the makeshift bar to grab three glasses with his fingers and then the bottle of Scotch, as if reminded. He didn’t bother to ask if the other two wanted one. It had turned into a bit of a nightly routine to have a drink after dinner and a smoke if John was there, though Simon just joined for the company, never smoking himself.

Kyle leaned forward and grabbed his and Johnny’s glasses, handing the man his over his head as he settled back in more comfortably. He had known what today was, that Johnny was keeping him busy as well as keeping him company. He didn’t hate it, though. It was nice to spend time with him again. Not that he didn’t want Simon around, but one on one time made things a little different. It made Johnny more entuned to him instead of splitting his attention a bit unevenly.

“I’m going to make sure they don’t decide to go on a little adventure,” Simon stated. An excuse, a poor one, to give Johnny and Kyle some alone time. “And make sure that cat isn’t hanging around.” It was an empty annoyance; he enjoyed the little creature.

“He’s only hanging around because you feed him!” Johnny called as Simon disappeared out the backdoor onto the deck.

When silence fell over the living room, Johnny and Kyle turned their attention back to the movie. It had been one they had both seen plenty of times but it was a nice excuse to tangle up on the couch. Kyle had, for the most part, avoided seeking out attention or affection from Johnny when John was around. It wasn’t because John didn’t know, it wasn’t a secret, but more for the fact to show John that Kyle was interested. Would refrain from another’s touch if that meant he would finally accept and welcome his own feelings.

Simon, of course, knew. Had allowed Kyle into his and Johnny’s bed without question in the past. Seeing as Johnny and Kyle had been together long before Simon finally figured his own issues out. He wasn’t a man that needed Johnny to himself and while the two of them certainly had their own gravitational pull, Simon seemed to enjoy some solitude now and again.

“There,” Johnny stated after a while, “how they missed seeing that in editing when it’s so obvious,” he bemoaned as the scene in the movie continued.

“You point that out every time we watch,” Kyle answered as he leaned forward to set down his empty glass, plucking Johnny’s out of his hand to set it down as well.

“Someone has to point out the mistakes,” Johnny answered as he looked at Kyle, who was still half leaning forward on his elbows, looking as if he might get up. “Better than Simon telling us the ending of the movie only ten minutes in.”

“It’s a neat little party trick,” Kyle countered. “I don’t know how he enjoys movies or reading, though, if he knows the ending before he gets there.”

“He likes being right, that’s his reward,” Johnny answered before he reached out and pulled Kyle back, not letting him escape to the seclusion of his room as he shifted to rise from the couch. “No running off tonight,” he stated as he nuzzled his face up to Kyle’s neck, “just us here. Stay with me.”

“You? Or you and Simon?” Kyle asked quietly as he inhaled sharply and shut his eyes as Johnny’s lips ghosted over his ear.

“Me,” Johnny said, his teeth nipping at the skin. “Simon went outside for a reason; his little party trick extends further than just fiction. Unless of course you want Simon.” There was no jealousy or hesitation, a simple offer to fulfill whatever Kyle needed.

“Just you,” Kyle breathed as Johnny’s hands slipped around his waist under his shirt to splay on his stomach. “For now, just…us.”

“Just us,” Johnny agreed as Kyle twisted in his arms to kiss him properly. It wasn’t a chaste one, it was needy and hungry. Johnny knew the sentiment well. Kyle wanted to get lost a bit in the feeling, block out the other hurt, and just let go, and Johnny was more than willing to oblige.

Simon had grabbed the discarded book he had left on the kitchen counter on his way out and was propped up in a chair reading. It was almost completely dark outside, and the replaced patio light was attracting a few of the early season bugs. As he flipped another page, half paying attention to what he was reading, he heard a door swing open.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he mumbled as he looked up and saw two figures appear out of Celeste’s backdoor. As he predicted they had enjoyed the drink that barely passed for punch, both of them laughing loudly and stumbling about. Though the screams of laughter as one of them took an almost nose dive into a rose plant were a bit obnoxious, Simon smiled to himself. He hadn’t heard Celeste properly laugh in any of his time around or watching her. She gave courteous ones at her job, forced ones at not so funny jokes, but nothing real like this.

He watched as they headed to the dock, and he shifted, debating on getting up or staying put when one of them waved. It was hard to make out who it was in the semi darkness but then the voice that trilled ‘hello’ over to him he knew it was Alice. All these weeks he had managed to avoid Celeste knowing he was there, or at least caring, and now she had pointed him like a beacon. He grumbled and didn’t return the wave, which only caused the woman to stop in her step, hands on her hips, before giving him an over exaggerated wave while Celeste attempted to stop her. Failing miserably.

“I can see you!” Alice said in a singsong voice. “You are bad at being sneaky!”

“I wasn’t trying to be,” Simon muttered more to himself before he held up his book to show what he was doing. “Go pester someone else!” He called back, this time loud enough for them to hear.

“You-you go pester someone--, ouch Celeste!” Alice attempted to taunt back, stumbling over her words before Celeste finally yanked her further down the dock.

Laying the book in his lap he watched them make their way down the dock, eyes trained on each of their steps to make sure they didn’t stray too close to the edge. He was fully prepared to have to go save one of them if they slipped but just thinking about how cold the water was made him shiver. It would sober them up at least. Though Celeste deserved to be a bit numb this evening, and tomorrow for that matter.

When they made it to the edge of the dock they both sat with their feet dangling off the edge. The water was still too low for their feet to be submerged, and now that they were safely still, Simon dared to turn his attention back to his own place. Eyes darting to the window in the kitchen door he squinted a bit against the light of the porch to see inside. He couldn’t see much, the living room swallowed by darkness save for the television, but he did catch a quick glimpse of Kyle before diverting his gaze. They had opted to be alone, which was fine, so he wasn’t going to pry.

“Tha’s it, fuck,” Johnny groaned as Kyle shifted in his lap to grind down on him.

Kyle slipped his hands to the back of Johnny’s neck and laced his fingers before pressing his forehead against his. The couch was not the most comfortable thing in the world, the cushions lumpy under his knees as he rode Johnny. But he didn’t care. He was chasing the high that he had denied himself for so long. And for what? For what end? To be alone.

“Get out of that head,” Johnny groaned out as one hand gripped Kyle’s side, fighting off his own release until Kyle had some sort of fill. Despite the hot and heavy kissing that had resulted in clothes being ripped off and tossed in desperation, he could still tell what Kyle was thinking about. Because he had been in the same spot not that long ago, pining after Simon. And it was Kyle that had been there for him to keep him from the precipice. “Be here with me.”

“Sorry,” Kyle sighed, more in pleasure than apology.

Capturing Johnny’s lips, he kissed him properly, disconnecting his mind from everything else except the man in front of him. Digging his fingers into the back of his neck he pressed even harder against Johnny’s chest, seeking more skin contact. His breath was starting to come out in huffs as each roll of his hips caused him to pump his cock into Johnny’s other hand that had moved between them.

Johnny adjusted his footing on the floor and used his leverage to meet every downward roll of Kyles's hips with an upward snap of his. He had missed being with him, missed hearing the soft whine he’d fight to keep quiet. How he’d eventually get so lost in his own pleasure, he would give up being quiet and use Johnny’s mouth to muffle the sound instead. Stealing his breath with his sharp inhales as Johnny hit that perfect spot. But most of all he just missed Kyle in general. Missed tugging him close when he wanted, stealing moments alone and just enjoying his friend’s company uninhibited.

“Johnny,” Kyle breathed as the man tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. He knew they were both close and as Johnny snapped his eyes open to meet his, it was Kyle’s undoing. Those crushing blue irises that were heavy with lust and need for him sent him over the edge. He fought to keep their gazes locked as Johnny pumped him, letting him come all over his stomach.

The slickness between them seemed to only spurn the two of them on and Johnny used both hands to bounce Kyle faster. His own release followed soon after and as he arched up, fighting to fill Kyle as deep as he could. Kyle gasped a bit at the fullness before he cupped Johnny’s face to kiss him. It wasn’t as frantic as before, not as needy and feral, but softer as Johnny fell apart under him.

“We made a mess,” Johnny laughed as Kyle adjusted to slowly pull off him once he settled but didn’t go far as he collapsed forward on his chest. “Your shirt is half covering the television,” he mused as he looked at the glow of the light from behind the blue material.

“I think your pants ended up halfway to the kitchen,” Kyle answered without looking as he kissed Johnny’s collarbone and neck softly.

“Simon’s going to take the piss if he finds it like this,” Johnny stated as he arched his head back to see if he could see through the kitchen to the back patio. He could barely make anything out, but he thought he caught Simon shifting in his seat.

“We can let him in from the cold,” Kyle joked as he rolled off Johnny’s lap onto the couch.

“He tells me constantly I need a playmate to keep me occupied. I’m sure he enjoys a few minutes of silence,” Johnny answered as he grabbed his own shirt and wiped at his chest and stomach before gently leaning over to wipe up the trail of spend on Kyle.

“I’m all yours tonight,” Johnny added as he leaned over and kissed him once, twice, three times before rising from the couch to find the rest of their clothes. “Let’s go clean up,” he stated, flicking his eyes to the ceiling to indicate for them to go upstairs.

“Or a few minutes of spying on the neighbor,” Kyle joked since that had honestly been what all of them had been doing for a while now. They could disguise it as looking after or just keeping an eye, but they were definitely spying.

“He thinks if he stares hard enough his mental will can stop her from doing something dangerous. Like falling in the water or taking her arm off with the ancient mower,” Johnny joked as he grabbed Kyle’s hand to drag him upstairs. “Doesn’t work though. I do stupid shit all the time, and he’s always staring at me.”

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

“He’s too creepy,” Alice stated as she looked back at the house where Simon was sitting on the back porch. She had to duck a bit to see him through the tree branches, but she could make his figure out under the light. “He’s just staring at us,” she said.

“He’s not staring,” Celeste answered quietly as she grabbed Alice to force her to turn around. “You’re staring. He’s just sitting on his back patio, it’s not illegal.”

“Mmm…I think he likes you,” Alice slurred a bit as she turned to stare back at him again. “He’s awfully curious about you.”

“I think he’s more interested in you. You wrangled him into cleaning, who does that for a complete stranger?” Celeste asked, pushing away the thought of anyone being interested in her. She wasn’t ready for any of that. At all. And especially on the eve of what was coming tomorrow. “If you keep looking, he’s going to come over here.”

“Maybe he should,” Alice said, her thoughts obviously scattered since a moment ago she remarked how creepy he was. "You need more friends here. I don’t like you alone all the time.”

“If you do not sit down right now,” Celeste warned as she grabbed Alice’s waist and swung her dangerously toward the edge of the dock to get her back down. “I will toss you in.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” Alice laughed as she sat down a bit hard so the dock rocked a bit. “Fine, I won’t introduce him to drunk Alice. Yet.”

“No one needs that,” Celeste joked, but as she looked back between the trees, she noticed Simon had moved. He was no longer sitting in the light but standing up and looking like he was almost to the stairs of their deck.

He had been staring at them. And had been concerned enough at their small wrestling match and raised voices that he was about to come over to check on them. The thought sent a squirm of a feeling that was so long dormant in Celeste she actually gasped in surprise.

Celeste quickly turned her attention to Alice, who had switched topics four times in her drunken ramblings, her words coming out at lightning speed. Celeste had missed most of them, too caught up in the guilt that ate at her for even entertaining the fleeting curiosity about Simon. But when Alice began undoing her lopsided bun, Celeste figured out that she was asking her to plait her hair. Something about not wanting to get sick in her hair when she inevitably threw up from how much they had drank tipped her off.

With a slightly shaky breath, Celeste ran her fingers through Alice’s hair and began to work, but her gaze kept drifting back to Simon. He was still standing at the railing watching them without caring how obvious it was. And when he cocked his head to the side, indicating that he’d caught her staring for a bit too long, she felt herself flush and quickly turn her attention back to Alice’s hair. Which was a mess and she had missed a whole chunk on the left hand side. Even while Celeste concentrated on fixing the mess she had made of Alice’s hair, the intrigue that had been squashed by her guilt creeped back. Especially since she could feel Simon’s eyes on her back as she worked.

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]

New York City ballet production of Midsummer Nights Dream

[lovingwolfwagonhuman]