#you’re weird and you’re gross and you’re an asshole

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for accidentally getting a guy isolated from our friend group

We’re all in our mid 20s, and we all work together but hangout after work. Id say it’s like 10 people and 6 of are women.

We have a guy, Joe* who I’m not really keen on and because of this he’s made it his mission to try and get to know me more. Because we have to get along because we’re co workers, I just keep stuff very base level. Joe has a hard time reading the room. He often relates topic to porn/sex. You’re going to a baby shower this weekend? He’ll say something gross I don’t feel like typing. You’re looking at getting a cat? He’ll show you a video of animals doing it. So I’ve kinda put my distance between us. I’m still nice, I say hi ask him how he is, but when he does that I just kinda move on from it and not give it much attention.

Joe asked in front of everyone why I’m so weird around him because I never talk to him one on one, and I never laugh at his jokes. Since he was asking, I said “I don’t dislike you Joe, but I am uncomfortable when you bring porn into every conversation.” A few other women agreed and were a little harsher and calling him gross and to read the room.

I was personally hoping it would never be mentioned, but if I’m gonna get asked I’ll try to say it nicest way possible.

Joe was mad, said I should have said something sooner, I turned everyone at work on him. He’s been aggressive at work lately. Someone will try and correct something he did wrong per the job and sometimes he blows up and says that he just does everything wrong.

I feel like I ruined a man’s job over this.

[sugardecay]

yall i swear to god i don’t want to have to close my DMs but the amount of you mother fuckers in there despite it being explicit in my pinned (which you should have read before ever interacting w me) that i am not interested in talking to strangers and certainly not sexting through there is getting ridiculous. i’m not gonna respond. i don’t want to sext with random men. i’m a real human person not a fucking reciprocal for your kinks. and sending repeated and increasingly explicit sexual messages despite me never responding and my clear disinterest, makes you an asshole and a creep. if you think this is about you, it probably is.

[cult-of-husbandos]

yami ai [yandere] - Hot Yandere Singles Near You

synopsis: you click on a random pop-up ad and are visited by weird smiling man in suit.

genre: pure crack (like fr), fluff, tbh there's not really a plot

word count: 4.4k

warnings: implied stalking

Isn’t insomnia just the worst? Like, seriously? What’s the point of being a human being with antiquated thoughts and impressive cognitive and motor skills when your brain fights you on the most basic stuff. For example, like sleeping!!

You must’ve refreshed YouTube and Twitter over a thousand times. Over 8 billion people in the world and there’s no new content anywhere? You groaned and jumped back over onto Twitter, silently praying and pleading for something new to show up on your feed. Maybe a wacky billionaire got eaten by a mob of homeless people or maybe a news article about a Floridian doing something gross and outrageous and virtually impossible.

But nope. Nothing.

Not a single thing piqued your interest. You groaned again and looked at the time on your dimly lit phone. It was past 2 a.m. and you were bored out of your mind. You then lazily clicked on Google and sighed.

‘Maybe someone posted a new fanfic over something…’ you hoped. And even if there wasn’t a new fic uploaded you’ll just read the old ones you favorited. Perhaps reading something might put you to sleep.

As you were scrolling through your favorite ship tags, you were startled by a pop up ad covering up 90% of the screen and flashing emojis.

“Ugh… seriously?” you groaned. “They should make ad-blockers on phones for this shit.” You squinted at the bright lettering emanating from your phone even though it was at the lowest brightness setting.

⚠️(99+) Hot Yandere Singles NEAR YOU⚠️

Yandere’s…? Singles? Near me?

The pop-up ad had flashing peach, cherry, and eggplant emojis with a water splash emoji at the end to signify… well, you’re not sure what it was trying to signify. On the sides of the ad, it showed pictures of very gorgeous men and women, all striking suggestive poses. Underneath the title was a small summary that read. ‘These lonely desperate yanderes wanna meet you! They’ll most likely find you anyway, but wouldn’t you rather be the honey to a bee instead of a fly? Try it NOW for FREE!! No hookups! No catfishes! No sign ups!’ Then below that were a few empty boxes to fill out requiring your personal information.

"..."

Was this a porn ad?!

No way at 2:45 in the freaking morning did you just get a porn pop-up ad while googling mafia au fanfiction. This has to be some kind of joke. Maybe it was prank and someone was just fucking with you. And how and why would there be 99+ yanderes in your area?! You couldn’t be surrounded by that many psychos. Could you? Whatever the case may be, it was now past 2 a.m. and as the rule of life states ‘Nothing good happens after 2 a.m.’. You don’t know if it was the lack of sleep or just reckless curiosity, but you gave your shoulders a shrug and mumbled a ‘fuck it’ as you put in your information. Your name, number, gender, age, preferred sex, email, and mailing address. As you clicked submit and continued scrolling, you gave very little thought about how this would go down.

On one hand, the ad turns out to be real and you get a partner out of this. Or

You get quartered, stalked, doxxed, and murdered like the dumbass you are for putting your personal info into a sketchy porno-like pop-up on Google.

Or, it turns out to be a prank and some asshole sitting in a basement has a good laugh at you.

Meh. You’ll deal with it in the morning.

*****

You were jolted awake with the sound of rapid knocking coming from your front door. You groaned into your pillow as you tried to ignore the person desperately wanting your attention from outside your apartment. You finally got some sleep only for it to get interrupted. Only minutes and minutes of continued knocking without any signs of letting up, you decide to get up and shoo away whoever it was. You wearily grabbed your phone to check the time.

8:02 a.m.

You huffed as you stormed towards the front door.

“If this a fucking Jehova’s Witness, I swear to god…” you grumbled. You swung open the door and threw the person a harsh glare, only to be met with popping sounds as confetti flew in your face.

“Good morning, my dear darling~!! Are you ready to begin on the road to happiness and love?” the stranger shouted a far too happy tone for 8 in the morning.

You took a step back in shock, fully awake as you waved and dusted the confetti from your face and hair. You looked the strange man up and down. He was smiling ear to ear and wore an expensive looking suit to warm for the summer weather. A briefcase stood right beside him along with dozens of other party poppers and a white plastic bag filled with brown bottles with oddly enough no labels on them. You looked at the man’s face. He was surprisingly attractive and without a single flaw anywhere. His hair was jet black and shined a very prominent gloss. You were honestly kind of embarrassed to be seen by him when you looked like such a mess. The man let out a chuckle.

“Oh my.” he said, gently putting his hand over his mouth with vague concern. “I hope I didn’t startle you too much. I probably should’ve sent you an email notifying you of the time I was coming. I’m sorry that must’ve been a troubling awakening.”

You quirked your eyebrow and took another step back, grabbing onto the doorknob so that you could slam it right in his face if things got too weird.

“And… you are?”

“Oh my, oh my. Where are my manners? How careless of me to assume.” The man bowed with a curtsy. “I am the ‘Matchmaker’. My job is to pair two people with their fated soulmate and give each of my clients their happily ever after. It’s very nice to meet you, (Y/N) (L/N).”

You felt a chill crawl down your spine. How’d this weirdo know your name?! You tried to close the door as fast as you could, but the ‘Matchmaker’ was even faster. He clicked his tongue at you, his smile unchanging, but his eyes seemed to harden his gentle tone.

“My, how rude. Is that any way to treat a guest?” He let out another chuckle. “You’ll never find love that way.”

“H-How did you know my name?” you stuttered.

Again, another chuckle. What was so funny? “My dear~. You gave it to me.”

What the hell was he talking about? How could you have given this creep your name? Was he a stalker? A junkie? Noticing the confusion on your face, the man spoke up again.

“Oh my dear. Do you really not remember?” he asked, tilting his head in feign innocence. “You filled out an ad to meet singles in your area. And here I am, coming to fulfill that ad.”

You eased up on the tension you had on the door and tilted your head in surprised confusion. “That was a real ad?”

The man stood up tall and smiled earnestly again. “Of course. However, you are the first person to actually fill out that ad. Really, this is more of a celebration to both of us.”

Huh, so the pop-up ad was real.

Not a prank.

And now there’s a psycho standing at your front door promising you a partner from an actual yandere.

“I honestly thought it was a prank. I mean… yanderes? Isn’t that just an anime thing?”

“Oh, I assure you my darling.” he said with a snide smirk. “Yanderes are real. And when they heard about signing up, it was like tossing chicken in a sea of alligators. All clamoring to be the first person to take a bite.”

Okay, gross but kind of sweet.

“May I come in?”

“Huh?”

“Well, my dear. It would be easier to come in and talk through the process of how this goes instead of standing here.”

“Oh, um… Suuuree-”

“Great! My my darling~. What a lovely home. Very well decorated.” The man quickly strided into your house and made himself comfortable in your living room, looking as if he was analyzing every detail about your house.

Richard Chase would’ve loved your dumbass.

You shut the door and followed him into your own apartment and offered him a seat on your couch. Might as well, right? You’ve gone this far and you're still alive.

“Umm…” you hesitantly shifted from one foot to another. “Do you… um… want some coffee maybe? Or tea? Maybe a glass of water? If you haven;t eaten breakfast yet, I whip you up something.”

Yeah, sure. Feed the man with only a title for a name and waltzed right into your house after showing up after you put in your personal information into a random pop-up ad at 3 a.m. promising you a happy life with hot single yanderes in your area. You are the pinnacle of human genius. The apex of natural selection. The creme de la creme of common sense. Charles Darwin would be so impressed.

“How thoughtful. Just coffee would be fine. Thank you.”

After brewing a quick pot, you sat across from the man facing him heads on and gently slid him his steaming cup. After a while of taking little sips in weird silence, he spoke up again.

“Before we continue, I’d just like to say: Thank you so much for applying for this wonderful opportunity!! Not many people would click on an ad requiring doxxing information to meet their soulmates! Again, congrats on being our number one willing client!”

“Willing client?” you asked.

“Well, of course! For some reason, humans seem to really love the idea of a yandere until there’s one standing on their front porch!” he laughed.

“Humans? I’m sorry. Are you not human, Mr…?”

“Ah ah! No need for formalities! Just ‘The Matchmaker’ or simply ‘Matchmaker’.

“Oh, so… you don’t have a true name? Or is that just a title?”

“Oh darling~.” he sang sweetly. “That’s none of anyone’s fucking business, is it?”

Your eyes widened and let out a nervous chuckle. “Okay, got it! Just Matchmaker. Lovely name. Adore it. In fact, I love when strange mysterious men only give a title for a name.” What the hell does that even mean? You had no idea what you were saying anymore.

“Heh, smart cookie.” He winked. “Shall we begin?”

“Um, yeah, so… how does this work exactly?” you finally asked.

“Simple, my dear darling. Think of this as an ordinary matchmaking appointment. I have a stack of potential soulmates all ready to meet you. I have the same information about them that I also have of you. Each potential soulmate also has a picture so if you don’t really feel up to meeting face-to-face just yet you can look over the picture and see who captures your heart.”

“Face-to-face? So these guys have my picture too?” “Of course! And might I say, those pictures don’t do you justice. In all my years in this business, I’ve never seen such an obsession and overload of potential soulmates for just one person.”

You lightly blushed. “I-I don’t know about that… I barely got any sleep last night so I probably look like a zombie right now…”

“Au contraire, Darling. You look absolutely stunning. If I weren’t such a professional I would burn all these forms and claim you as my one and only~.”

You felt your entire face flush red as the Matchmaker pierced your soul with his longing gaze. It felt like he was staring into your very essence – like he could read you like a book. You nervously cleared your throat and shifted your eyes away, hoping to bring down your blush.

“S-So! Um… should we get started?” you stuttered, internally kicking yourself for being so easily flustered by a couple of smooth words. Ted Bundy would’ve had a field day with your dumbass.

“Ready whenever you are, my dear.” The Matchmaker set his briefcase on your coffee table and pulled out a single form and slid it over towards you. “Let’s start off with an easy one.”

You looked at the form along with the picture of a very attractive man paperclipped to the paper. According to the form, his name is Hamazawa Akita. He was in his early 20’s, had a varying array of hobbies from hiking to scuba diving, and was very much in love with you.

“Well, what do you think?”

“Hm, well, he’s very cute. And very active.”

“Would you like to meet him?”

“Um, sure… is there a number I could call or…?”

“No need! We can bring him in right now.” The Matchmaker snapped his fingers and you whipped your head towards the front door where Akita strolled in, all smiles. You looked back over the Matchmaker. “Did I not lock my door? Wait. More importantly, how’d he get here?!”

The Matchmaker smiled. “My dear, when you’re in this business you pick up a few tricks.” He then turned his attention towards Akita who now stood in the middle of the living room. “No. 1 would you like to introduce yourself?”

Akita stood tall and his eyes seemed to beam directly at you. “My name is Hamazawa Akita. Ever since I saw your picture I’ve dreamed about sweeping you off your feet and claiming you all to myself!”

“So, like 8 hours ago?”

“Yes!! But those hours feel like years when being away from you.”

“Hmm.”

“So, what do you think? Are you feeling the butterflies?”

You looked up Akita up and down and your face twisted as if you’re deciding on whether or not to buy a car or a piece of clothing.

“Um, to be honest my guy. I’m not feeling it.”

“Huh?”

“Excuse me, my darling?”

“Weeeelllll…. I mean, don’t get me wrong! You’re very attractive and your words are sweet, but I don’t think I believe any of it. Like, you just admitted to wanting me all to yourself only 8 hours ago, but I don’t really feel anything. Not even a shiver.”

The Matchmaker and Akita both looked at each other like they weren’t really expecting that. With a quick wave of his hand, Akita slumped his shoulders and headed towards your front door. You shouted out an apology as the dejected suitor walked out.

“Well, I didn’t expect that. I don’t normally get such competent clients. At least those that get past kicking and screaming.” The Matchmaker grinned. You shrugged.

“I guess I just know what I like. All the anime I’ve watched kind of gives you that high standard of what makes a yandere a real yandere, y’know?”

He nodded. “I cannot agree more. Well, we have plenty more where that came from. Shall we continue?”

*****

Papers were strewn across your coffee table in an unorganized fashion as both you and your estranged guest were tired beyond belief. You had no idea how many hours had passed nor how many guests were in and out of your apartment. You’re honestly surprised none of your neighbors complained or called the police. Your apartment would’ve looked like a clown car if anyone had been watching from the outside. You honestly lost count after No. 256. You let out another yawn and laid on your side trying your best to keep your eyes open. Maybe 2 hours of sleep wasn’t enough for the multiple interviews you had to conduct today. Maybe your 9th grade biology teacher was right. Maybe you are going to die alone. A weary sigh brought you from your thoughts.

“My, my. You are definitely the most high standard client I’ve ever had. I didn’t think we’d get to the triple digits in just one day.”

You also sighed and sat up in your seat. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just… All these guys are cute and all, but they’re all lacking something. They’re either too forceful or not forceful enough. Too wimpy or too strong. Or too obsessed or just incredibly so lovesick that I feel like they’d fall in love with just about anyone who’d be willing. Ugh, why can’t this be simpler like adopting an animal?” You groaned. You also hadn’t thought this would take this long. You didn’t really think of yourself as having high standards until today. Until today, you’d be happy with anyone close to you in age and with a heartbeat. Who knew picking out a yandere soulmate would be so challenging. And who knew that there’d be so many willing participants! The Matchmaker reached into his briefcase and pulled another stack of forms and slid them over to you. There must be at least over a hundred papers in front of you. How did he have so many?!

“How about we switch things up, hm? You’ll look over the papers and when you see someone that catches your eye, I’ll bring him in.” He made it sound like you were adopting a dog or a cat. But if this made it go any faster, you were willing to try.

After about 3 more stacks of papers, you were starting to lose hope and patience. When you got to the last few papers, you stopped dead in your tracks. Woah baby!

“Woah baby!” you exclaimed.

“Did you find someone you like?” The Matchmaker asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah. This guy.” You showed him the paper. He furrowed his brows a little.

“Are you sure? I don’t think I remember this man. His name and face don’t seem familiar.”

“Really? Maybe he’s a late entry or something?”

Matchmaker stroked his chin in thought. “I’ll go check it out. Be right back, dear. I’m very sorry for this inconvenience.”

You waved off his apology with a smile and he left your apartment. You then leaned back with a groan. You just wanted to find your ‘soulmate’ or whatever and move on with this day. You closed your eyes for a second and waited patiently for Matchmaker to come back.

Tap tap tap

Just like deja vu, you were awoken by rapid knocking. Except this time it wasn’t coming from your front door.

Tap tap tap tap

It sounds like it’s coming from… your window?

Tap tap tap tap tap tap tap

You quickly got up and walked towards your window and opened it.

“Woah!” You jumped back a little as you were met face to face with the man that you had picked out and that the Matchmaker went to go find.

‘Wow… he’s even cuter in person!!’

He let out a delicious chuckle and gave you a charming smile.

“I didn’t mean to scare you, darling~. Hehe, though I think that fear in your eyes was worth it. So adorable~.” For the second time today, a complete weirdo stranger has made you blush. Wait…

“Wait! I don’t have a balcony and I’m on the third floor. How’d you-?” You peeked over the window to see if he was pulling a Criss Angel.

“I have incredible grip strength~.” he winked.

“Oooh I’m sure~.” you swooned. For a weirdo, he was a smooth talking weirdo.

“Oh, I got these for you, sweetheart~.” He pulled himself up and sat on your windowsill and pulled out a bouquet of roughly cut flowers from behind him. You gasped and grabbed them, giving them a smell.

“These are my favorite!! How did you know? I don’t think that was one of the pieces of info required for the Matchmaker.” you asked.

The stranger chuckled. “Easy. I never filled out that stupid application.”

You looked up from your flowers and titled your head like a confused puppy.

“I already know everything about you. I don’t need a stupid piece of paper to tell me what I already know about you. Like, how I know that you have secret sweets hidden all throughout your room. Or that whenever you have a good day you love to sing Stray Kids.”

He inched closer to you as you backed up further into the room.

“You won’t eat frozen pizza, but every so often you eat a lobster roll from a food truck from Gary on Main St.. You have life destroying evidence of your boss that you’re planning on using on your last day. You’ve seen the Barbie movie 5 times. And…”

You felt your legs hit the couch and tried to keep yourself from falling onto your back like a defenseless turtle.

“Your favorite anime is… Dar-” You quickly covered the stranger’s mouth with a furious blush.

“I only watch it ironically!! I don’t love it! It’s not my favorite!” you quickly clarified. The gravity of the situation was made perfectly clear after that. This man really knew all about you. Honestly, you’re so loud that you’re pretty sure that people on the ground outside could hear you singing. And you don’t really pay attention to your surroundings so it's easy for someone to know that you eat from a food truck every other week at specific times. But, knowing your favorite secretly watched anime?

“W-Who… are you?” you stuttered. You’re pretty sure you already knew the answer.

He laughed and you felt his lips brush against your fingers. You blushed and tried to pull back, only to be stopped by his hands.

“Sweetie~. You already know who I am.” He grabbed the paper from the stack and put it next to his face. “See? I’m Yami Ai. Your soulmate.”

Before you could even process what was happening, you were gently pushed onto the couch with Yami hovering over you holding your hands beside your head. You couldn’t stop the blush erupting from your neck to your face. Your heart was beating way too fast and your stomach felt jumpy and queasy. Butterflies.

You cleared your throat. “Um… so, if you didn’t fill out a form then how come The Matchmaker had your profile and picture? And why didn’t you use the front door?”

Yami smirked and leaned in closer. “It’s pretty simple to pull off when your apartment does security checks on new guests entering the building.”

“But, my apartment doesn’t–” you stopped. “Ooooh… So you impersonated a security guard, slipped your profile and info into his briefcase, and were planning on showing up as one of the potential singles? That’s… convoluted. But, smart.” You shrugged. “And since you obviously knew which floor I was on and which window was mine, I assume you’ve been watching me for a while and were watching me last night when I couldn’t sleep?”

Yami laughed again. “You are so smart~. You really catch on quickly, don’t you?”

You shrugged again with a nervous smile. “W-Well, obviously not smart enough to not put in my personal info and have strange men come in and out of my apartment.”

Yami was quick to turn his gentle smile into a hard, harsh frown. His grip on your wrists grew tighter and you winced under the force he placed in you.

“You know, my darling. It’s partially my fault. If I hadn’t backed out and taken you that night, you’d never be in this situation. With those men eyeing you up and down like you were theirs. Having that smiling freak calling you ‘dear’ and ‘darling’ when only I can call you that. I was planning on getting rid of the competition, but you did that for me.”

Yami loosened his grip and lifted you up, staring into your eyes. You blushed again.

“Rejection after rejection. Some guys didn’t even get 2 words out before you turned away. Of course my darling would only want the most perfect man. Isn’t that right, darling~?”

“Hehehe~” you leaned in with a giggle. “You’re so sweet~.”

You are such a baby for flattery.

*****

“My dear darling, I’m so very sorry for the inconvenience. I didn’t mean to be gone for so long, but I could not find this person you–” Matchmaker explained, rushing in and stopping dead in his tracks when he saw both you and Yami, the man who left 30 minutes ago to go find, eating breakfast in the living room.

Sitting in his lap.

And feeding each other.

“Oh! Matchmaker!” you exclaimed, quickly swallowing your food. You didn’t notice Yami tightening his grip on your waist nor did you notice the cold glare and tense atmosphere enveloping the room. “Look who I found~.”

“I see…” he said hesitantly.

“He climbed up the building and came in through the window.”

“My~. How romantic~.” he sang. “So, I take it that you are satisfied with your soulmate? Or… do you wish to continue searching?” he asked teasingly. Before Yami could say anything, you quickly spoke again.

“Yep! I’m sure.” You ruffled Yami’s hair and nuzzled up against him. “I wouldn’t trade him for anyone else.” Yami hugged you closer to his chest as you giggled. “Plus, he makes the most amazing breakfast in the world, so extra points!” you cheered. You reached out towards the Matchmaker’s briefcase.

“Here you go! I put all the papers back in for you.”

Matchmaker quickly walked over and grabbed his briefcase along with your hand. “Well, my dear. It’s been an honor. You are truly the most remarkable and memorable client I have ever had.” he said with a bow and made his way towards the door. However, before leaving he chuckled and looked back at the both of you. “Although, it’s a shame,” he sighed. “Maybe if I had stayed, I would’ve snatched you up myself.”

And with a final loud laugh, The Matchmaker disappeared, but not before Yami stood up to lounge and attack the fleeting man like a guard dog. You snorted and caressed his face to calm him down. “Relax, Yami. He’s just joking.”

“Well, I hated his joke. Fuckin’ freak…” he grumbled. “And it’s Ai. You’re mine now. You should get used to calling each other by our first names.”

You smiled and leaned against him. “Okay, Ai. Whatever you say.”

“And if a man comes to the door, never EVER answer it, got it!”

“Mhm.”

“I’m serious, darling. I’ll gouge their eyes out right in front of you.”

“Yes sir.”

The rest of your life was going to be very interesting. Suck it, Ms. Braxton. I guess you’re the one dying alone. Because you have a yandere boyfriend! And she has gonorrhea. Bitch.

---

a/n: this is so shit. i'm so sorry that i've been MIA for a while. work has been pretty crazy and i haven't really felt much motivated to write. however, i'm trying to get back into it now. with this goofy shit. kind of a joke piece, but i needed to write something silly and not serious at all to relax. (also i've been writing since 4 a.m., so...) anyways, i'm going to try and update regulary or at least post something.

Here's my YouTube. I make anime playlists.

[luveline]

Could you do a drunk cuddly Steve if you're feeling up to it?

When Steve comes home to you that night, you evade his hug. “Steve, you smell awful.” 

Steve flinches away from you. In any other moment, you’d notice how lovely he looks —there’s something special about the way he squints when he’s pissed off— but his smell is overpowering. 

“Sorry?” he asks, offended and confused. 

“You’ve got stuff all down you. What is that?” You try to be kinder. It’s not like he smells bad on purpose. “Do you need help?” you ask.

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’m gonna take your shirt off,” you say gently. 

His scowl relaxes. “You are?” 

“What is it, do you know? It doesn’t even smell like beer. It smells like death.” 

Steve doesn’t laugh at your joke, he’s not as smiley as you’d like him, but you suppose that’s the perils of telling him he smells. You grab the ends of his shirt and you pull it over his head, careful not to get the wet part on his face, and then you snag a packet of makeup wipes off of your vanity and pull on out to wipe down the skin near his heart that’s still shiny. 

“That’s nice,” he says, swaying at your touch. 

“Yeah?” You fold the wipe and rub him down. “I’m gonna put that shirt in the laundry. Get in bed, sweetheart.” You touch his face quickly. “Make yourself comfy.” 

You forbid his gross shirt to the laundry basket in the bathroom and take a moment to stretch. Steve, though drunk, isn’t doing his usual sweet brigade. You must’ve really offended him when you said he smells. You aim to put it right. 

“Sorry,” you say, pushing open your door again. Steve’s done as you told him to do, sitting on his usual side of your bed. “That was mean. You didn’t smell awful, just the shirt.” 

You climb onto the bed and kneel in front of him, stroking a perfect lock of hair back from his forehead. “Forgive me?” 

Steve winds his arm behind your back. He presses his face to yours, before his head falls into the curve of your neck, where it stays. 

“I’m sorry for being gross,” he says, heartily drunk.  

“You’re not gross, the beer just surprised me,” you say. 

It’s clear he drank more than he tipped, his movements wobbly, but his hand curling protectively behind you in a good effort. 

“Oh, hello,” you murmur, “this feels like forgiveness.” 

“Some asshole tipped beer on me, I’m sorry.” 

“Steve, it’s okay! Don’t say sorry, you smell just fine now.” You take a performative sniff of his hair. “You smell amazing.” 

He squeezes you and pushes you down into the bed. He has just enough wits about him to be careful about your head on the headboard, shifting over you, and pulling the blankets up to cover your shoulders. His naked torso presses against your arm, your chest and your stomach, his skin feverishly warm. 

“Do you think you can call me sweetheart again?” he asks strangely. 

“That depends, will it make you feel better?” 

He scoffs, which is more like him. “I won’t beg.” 

“No, you asked nicely enough the first time,” you say agreeably. 

When he leans back and pulls you into his chest, you feel forgiven for certain. Slowly, you let your nose skirt along the curve of his neck before kissing the shadow of his Adam’s apple. 

“Sweetheart,” you say, barely audible, “I love you.” 

He’s like an octopus from that point onward. You’re dragged flush to his front with your hand on his collar, his nose and mouth pressed to your forehead. He’s soft underneath you but not without muscle, a strong bicep behind your shoulders squeezing you securely even as he mumbles drunkenly into your skin. “Love you…” And finally, finally, he seems to recuperate from your accusation, “It’s weird when you don’t wanna hug me.” 

“I always do. It was purely olfactory related.” 

“Ol-what-ery?” 

“It wasn’t personal.” 

Steve squeezes you until you sigh. “It felt personal.” 

“It wasn’t. I just blurted it out. You smell really nice now,” you say, and he does, cologne and skin and sweat, too. 

“So you still love me?” he asks. 

“I just said I did, didn’t I?” 

He wrestles you with both great care and great clumsiness to his face for a tipsy kiss pressed to the corner of your mouth. “Can you tell me again?” 

You offer to say it a hundred times, but after twenty he’s snoozing into your shoulder, his thumb stuttering where it lays against your back. 

[rrcenic]

those queer kids who say “oh it’s the ‘tisim” every they do something cute and quirky and yet make fun of and mistreat actual autistic people for displaying actual autistic traits make me sick.

there are too many people who use “autism” as a word to sound aesthetic or cute within their neurodivergent queer circles but still make fun of the girl who has shared about her diagnosis and struggles picking up when people don’t want to talk to her.

they still see it as “gross” when the boy that sits behind them keeps making noises as a form of stimming.

they shit talk the person they think isn’t fashionable enough only because that person struggles so much with fabric texture that they only have a few outfits they can tolerate.

you need to stop using autism as a way to sound cute and you need to stop being shitty to people for not being up to your standards of normal.

self diagnosis is wonderful and not a bad thing, but if you don’t do any actual fucking research and simply go “oh i’m neurospicy and quirky therefore i can go around telling everyone i’m autistic” is NOT OKAY.

it’s so hypocritical. not only do these people use autism as a way to sound cute and then act like assholes, but within the queer community especially, shouldn’t we be embracing differences?

so you find someone weird. just fucking be kind. you do not get the right to be ableist because you’re skinny and aesthetic and gay. stop it.

[tootiecakes234]

Sanji x reader

(You come back from a mission injured. )

You come back to Sanji after you two were on two separate assignments. Initially you’re facing away from him so he’s just relieved that you’re safe. He comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your front.

“My beautiful one and only. I’m so happy to see you safe.” Words mumbled because His face is nuzzled up into your neck and he’s breathing in the scent of you. Even though you’re sweaty and gross, you’re his favorite scent in the entire world and that includes his cooking.

“Are you tired?? When we get back to the ship I’ll run you a nice bath yea??” Mind you he says all this in almost a sing song voice.

Normally you would be just as excited as he was, but you know. You know the time he sees your injury he’s going to 1000% flip his shit and you were trying to postpone the inevitable as long as possible.

When Sanji finally looked up he saw the strange looks the rest of the crew was giving and he was confused.

“What the hell are you idiots looking at? Why do you assholes look guilty?”

“Hey you guys can I have a moment alone with Sanji please?”

They all excused themselves and set off very swiftly because they knew the shit storm was a brewing.

He starts pulling his arms from around you but you quickly grab them and hold him still.

“Babe, can you promise me something??”, you whisper in the most even tone you can manage.

“Of course. I’d do anything for you. You know that.” And his arms tighten around you.

“Ok, remember. You’re a man of your word. Promise me you won’t freak out” You start to slowly pull away.

“Why would I-“

“Just promise me ok?”

“I promise me sweet.” And he chuckles a little at how weird you’re being.

The twirl you do around is so achingly slow but Sanji is nothing if not patient with you.

When you finally catch his eye, you see the smile morph on his face.

He is livid. infuriated. No there has to be a word that means “ready to burn down the fucking world and everyone and everything in it!”

“Who! Had! The Goddamn Nerve! To Touch you?!?”

“Saaannjii, baby. It’s fine. I promise you. It’s just a scratch. Chopper checked it out and he said it wouldn’t even need stitches.” Trying to keep the peace was not working. AT ALL.

“Who!? And where are they now?” He was seething.

You could feel hellfire coming off him.

The laceration was a long one coming up from your clavicle and wrapping up right under your chin, but it wasn’t deep. You had managed to dodge most of it.

“Theyre dead and gone. He only got the one chance. I promise, I’m ok. Everyone is ok and safe. So can you breathe?? Cuz I don’t think you’re breathing…”

“Where the hell was everyone when you were nearly KILLED?!”

“Trying to avoid dying themselves. I’m not some damsel in distress, even though I know that’s how you see me.” You had started to get a little testy but you had to remind yourself, he honestly just loved you way too much to be faced with a situation where you could’ve been taken from him.

You slowly get a little closer to him and reach out to grasp his hand, and honestly that touch did more for him than any of your words did.

His shoulders sagged just the slightest amount and you heard him draw in a sharp breath.

“I know you’re upset, you have every right to be, but I’m right here.” You said with all the love you could muster and lifted your other hand to wrap around the back of his neck and scratch at the back of his head.

Another breath and now his eyes were starting to soften.

You smile up at him and that sets his heart back to thumping at the inconsistent speed it always does when you look at him like that.

Next thing you know you’re being pulled into his arms and squeezed to the point where it’s almost taking your breath away.

You don’t realize he’s crying until you feel dampness from where he’s again tucked his head down into your neck.

His words come out all mumbled, “I can’t l-lose you. I truly fucking can’t… you- you’re the only reason my heart beats. The only thing that gives me the strength to draw another breath. I love you. I love you.”

And now you’re crying because damn. This man is everything to you, and the fact that he never fails to make sure you know how he feels the same way if not stronger…. Your heart is just so full.

“I love you too Sanji. And I’m never leaving… you’re stuck with me forever and ever and ever.”

When he pulls back his eyes are all red and puffy.

“You mean it?” His voice sounds all groggy now, like he just woke up. But also bright, like morning sunshine.

“Of course I mean it. You and me always.” You give him a small genuine smile.

“Then marry me…”

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 20

part 1 | part 19 | ao3

"Eddie! Hey!" he brightens. Tells himself to take it down a notch; schools his face and voice into something a little less pathetically eager. “What’s up, man?” 

“Not much, dude,” Eddie teases, one dimple popping out. He looks good. Dressed up. Red and black flannel with the top buttons undone; light dusting of chest hair on pale skin, the edge of a tattoo Steve’s never seen. He’s got his black leather jacket and black jeans with no holes and black riding boots on. All he’s missing is a motorcycle helmet tucked under his arm.

“What’s with the, uh…?” Steve gestures to his outfit, because he realizes he’s sort of just been staring at the dip of his throat. Eddie raises an eyebrow. Steve clarifies, “You got a date or something?” 

“Oh, this?” Eddie laughs. “Uh, no. Nope. Can’t say that I do.”

He hops up backward onto the counter, his ass right next to Steve’s elbow, legs dangling over the edge, and he ignores Steve’s protests to get down from there as he leans in to ask in a mischievous hush, “Can you keep a secret?” 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat, twists into a bitter twinge of nerves. He can keep a lot of secrets. Maybe he learned that from his dad.

“Yeah…?” He leans in on his elbows.

Eddie moves in closer still, cups his hand around his mouth and whispers, “I totally forgot to do laundry last week.” 

Oh, my god. “You’re an idiot,” Steve laughs. “That’s your big confession?” 

Eddie’s smile widens. “Yeah. I got distracted with rehearsals. This was the only clean shit I had left.” He kicks one leg out straight to show off his boot. “I’m only wearing these so you can’t tell I don’t have socks on.”

“Gross!” Steve laughs harder and shoves at Eddie, who tumbles theatrically over the edge of the counter, flinging himself to the ground and rolling onto his back so he can fake a couple death spasms and then lie there with his tongue lolling out of his mouth like a fucking weirdo. “You’re so weird.” 

“This night sucked before I showed up, and you know it,” Eddie says from the floor. He opens one eye to wink at Steve, then he gives one final death twitch and drops the act, popping back up to mirror Steve’s pose, elbows propped on the counter between them. 

Steve’s arm hair stands on end. “How was your show, anyway?” 

“Oh, it was greeeat,” Eddie says. “Drunk assholes yelling slurs at me, Gareth barfing in the bushes. Standard Hideout gig.”

"Was someone harassing you?" Steve frowns. He knows the Hideout's a shithole — a ‘dependable dumpster fire where we practice for the gigs that actually pay us,’ as Eddie had put it — but he thought the people there were, like, accepting, or whatever.

Surely Eddie's style isn't any more out there than the rest of the regulars.

"Holster your eyebrows," Eddie sighs, "it was fine. Really.” 

“Holster my— dude, what?”

“Your eyebrows,” he repeats. He reaches out with the tip of his pointer finger and gently prods the space between them. “At ease, gentlemen.”

“So weird,” Steve says again. He rolls his eyes and swats Eddie’s hand away, and Eddie just laughs and says ‘There we go!’ because his antics actually did get Steve to unfurrow his face. Little bastard. “Were you gonna rent something, or…?”

“Hell no, my late fees are fucking ridic—”

Eddie cuts himself off, his eyes darting over Steve’s shoulder.

He goes skittish all of a sudden, starts backing toward the exit, stammering, “Ridiculously non-existent. Is, uh, is what I was gonna say. Obviously. Um. Right.” 

His back hits the front door, the bell jangling overhead, and before Steve gets a chance to ask what the hell his problem is now, Eddie starts rambling at triple speed that “Dustin wanted me to check in on you and now I have checked in on you so okay-gotta-go-bye” and practically sprints out of the store.

Doesn’t even look back to give Steve a parting wave. 

What the fuck?

What the fuck?

“What. the fuck…” Steve jumps a foot in the air at the sound of Robin’s voice. He whips around to look at her; realizes she must have been what spooked Eddie. Her nose and cheeks are bright red from the cold, her eyes bugging out of her head, and her jaw is halfway to the floor as she gapes at him, “...was that?”

—

part 21

tag list part 1 below cut comment if you want to be added tomorrow

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[makisoda]

𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 (𝐄𝐖𝐖) !

jjk boys and their icks… because no man is perfect…

jjk boys x implied fem!reader

cw : men being gross, slight nsfw in nanami’s part, very mild misogyny if you squint in megumi’s part, this post was literally just so i could rant kinda

a / n : long time no see… not much to say other than i’ve been busy !!! anyways hope you enjoy :)

yuji itadori - bad grammar

giving him the tamest one tbh because he’s such a sweetheart </3 idk why but i feel like he just has such shitty grammar… like he’s smart ! just not when it comes to grammar. for example, he mixes up his to, too, and two’s, his there’s, and don’t get me started on your vs you’re :/ again he’s the sweetest boy ever ! it’s just the fact he probably failed his lit classes…

megumi fushiguro - “females”…

i was so close to giving this to satoru but i didn’t cause he has shoko to hold him down, megumi on the other hand… look, i don’t think he’d say it in front of girls, but to other dudes, yk ? and i definitely don’t think it’s on purpose to try and be an asshole but it just happens. quickly unlearns it when he says it around maki though.

yuta okkotsu - referring to himself in third person

you guys know how elmo is like, “elmo wants to go to the park,” yeah… yuta does this. and no, it’s not ironically. he definitely thinks it’s cute too and sometimes it is ! but it’s to an extent. like it’s cute the first couple times where he is goes, “yuta loves you,” but then it gets weird and corny when he’s like, “yuta wants to get dinner,” like ermmmm ok…

toge inumaki - fish pics.

as someone who lives in those south i see these OFTEN. for those who don’t know, fish pics are basically when dudes hold up fish they caught while fishing and post pictures of them holding it… i think the main problem with this to me is that a lot of very weird and racist men do it, so that’s why i hate it. anyways i’m 90% sure he has an official art where he’s holding a fish ( i also didn’t know what ick to give him ).

satoru gojo - his height is his whole personality

this shit irks me so bad omg. as someone who’s short ( 5’0 ) and hates seeing other short people make their whole personality their height, it’s even worst when it’s a tall person. satoru is definitely the type to be like, “omg guysss i bumped my head otw hereeee i’m so tallll,” like no you’re just stupid ! he definitely has other icks but this was the main one i could think of… ik he gets on everyone’s nerves.

suguru geto - says “my bad” instead of “im sorry”

another personal one tbh. i hate hate hate when people do this especially if it’s something serious. i remember one time someone pushed me in the mud ( i didn’t fully go on, just my foot ) and i got mud all over my white shoes and they have the audacity to go, “my bad,” like yeah it is your bad lmao. anyways, suguru def does this often especially to shoko. i feel like he’s pretty clumsy and say if shoko’s studying and he knocks over a drink onto her books he’ll say “my bad” and not even attempt to help her clean it up. like dude at least say sorry or something idk ???

nanami kento - calls his dick anything but a dick

“my member” you are grown !!! say dick !!! he does it to be ‘classy’ but like, he is pushing 30 doing this, just say dick. i also think it’s a shame thing ? idk probably hanging out with stsg for most of his teen years rotted his brain so he hates hearing really nasty stuff but he won’t even say penis half the time. like it’s really not that serious nobody wants to call your dick a phallus ( it was also really hard to give him an ick ).

choso - using 🥺 / 🥹

oh BROTHERRRR this one pisses me off. i hate both of those emojis in general but especially when men do it, it’s cornball behavior. like aren’t you supposed to be fighting in wars ? stand up. but i don’t think he has any ill intentions at all, honestly just picks emojis that represent his mood often. however he definitely uses 😂 instead of 😭… sorry choso…

song : ick - lay bankz

[tryingtofindava]

some of the creeps with a cannibalistic reader? :> if thats okayy

── 𝐂𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐛𝐚𝐥! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫*ೃ༄

(Includes: Jeff the Killer, Eyeless Jack, Ticci Toby, Masky, Hoodie, Nina the Killer.)

: ̗̀➛Back to source

╰┈➤ 𝐉𝐞𝐟𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

He doesn’t hide the fact AT ALL that he thinks it’s absolutely gross.

And he’ll always make that clear to you.

Onetime you were in the woods after offing some poor camper, eating away at their flesh. And Jeff came by because he was on his way back to his hiding spot from the world.

He watches and mocks you the whole time, because he’s an asshole.

“Y/n, that’s fucking disgusting.” (he scoffs while being covered in like 7 different peoples blood…)

Anyways lolz he doesn’t support you :3

╰┈➤ 𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤

Whether you’re a cannibal by choice or forced to be (like him) he feels a weird connection to you in that way.

I’d be a liar if I said you two didn’t bond over the fact that you both have the taste for human flesh. (Which is like, a BIG deal for Jack since he isn’t the most social Creep out there.)

He may even share his little human organs with you, and it may as well become your guys usual hang out plan.

╰┈➤ 𝐓𝐢𝐜𝐜𝐢 𝐓𝐨𝐛𝐲

I’m actually sure he was supposed to be cannibal but was changed later on by Kastoway since it was too similar to EJ’s story and stuff. So it was set that he only ate some parts of his victims on rare occasions.

I’m also pretty sure it’s canon that the way he got the gash on his cheek is because he literally gnawed it off because his gloves prevented him from eating away at the skin on his fingers.

So yeah… he’s probably un phased by your desire to eat people. (Not that he’d give a shit in the first place, he’d probably just tease you sometimes about it)

Maybe even on his mini missions he’d take some human parts from his victims for you to scran on.

╰┈➤ 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞

Again, another two who find it repulsing-ish.

BUT!!

They don’t make it as obvious as Jeffrey does about finding it icky, though you can still sense their vibe being off ‘cause of your strange addiction.

Sometimes when you eat in the woods they may come across you and watch, though you can’t see their faces from their masks you know that they are silently judging you.

If I’m being completely honest, they’re both more curious about it than anything. They’ll both get over it eventually.

╰┈➤ 𝐍𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐊𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐫

She’s completely cool and chill about it!!

She canonically dated EJ, so she kinda had to be fine w it lolz.

Her love language is gift giving, and acts of service, so like Toby she definitely brings you humans to munch on.

You want them raw? Okay!! You want ‘em fried? She’s getting the pan out now!

She loves getting her hands dirty for you, and feels no regret what so ever when she ends an innocent person to bring you your dinner!! :)

Half of this was me babbling lolz

[pupyr0arz]

thinking about obsessive Gaz still…him being a bit of a weird bff. Male reader.

It’s not a shrine. Shrines are childish, weird things built by freaks who obsess over people, complete creeps who probably have bones in their closets and lick printouts. It’s….a refuse drawer, that happens to have acquired a theme. Not even a collection, that would imply Kyle was being deliberate, which he isn’t. He’s only keeping your things so he can return them, but he can’t exactly show up at your house with just a toothbrush now, can he? It’s only polite, and he’s sure when he finally has enough knicknacks you’ll smile and pat Kyle on the cheek like you always do when you’re pleased and somehow manage to get away with it without being condescending. Maybe even knock your heads together, like you do when you’re sleepy and staying over for a movie, giving him long molasses moments with his nose to yours. He isn’t some weirdo following some girl around and stealing her panties. Kyle hasn’t touched a pair of your boxers, though he hasn’t been able to get you to stay more than one night. He thumbs over Ghost’s contact in his phone and thinks about crime statistics a normal amount.

He doesn’t have a drawer for Johnny or his other guy friends because they’re assholes, that’s all. You’re just his nice friend, the one who smiles and genuinely talks about your life and encourages him to be soft and sweet and buttery instead of raucous and harsh. Kyle wants to smooth his rough edges in your presence, wants to charm you and see things how you do, he wants his ladykiller smile to soften to something genuine. That involves picking up the things you leave behind with a pure kind and full intentions to return them, not in some creepy, awful manner that would make you call him gross and shut the door in his face.

Kyle is a considerate friend to you, dutiful and generous. When you’re hurrying out of the door, one foot in a hangover, he passes you the closest jacket. It’s his, by sheer coincidence, his rack is solely his own clothes, and yours had gone missing from atop the couch mysteriously during the night. Kyle doesn’t mention folding it and tucking it away, it’s his right to have a clean home and he’s a good host tidying up after his guest. He pretends to find it a half hour after you’ve left, ensuring the temptation to use it as an excuse to catch up to you or drop by and steal an extra conversation. Sometimes he struggles with long term rewards over the short term, and you’re no help. It’s the lottery ticket in your pocket, he’s discussing to himself, what else could he be speaking about? He considers laundry for half a second, holding the jacket tightly in his hands. It smells like you more than the deodorant does, deeper, and Kyle decides he shouldn’t make assumptions about your clothes. What if it’s dry clean only, or he uses the wrong temperature setting and ruins it? It’d be rude to assume your nondescript hoodie isn’t anything special to you. He picks up the glasses both of you had used and if he forgets to wash yours before he takes a sip, he’s a bachelor living alone and can blame it on habit.

Kyle likes inviting you over more than he likes going over to yours. Your apartment isn’t far, and it isn’t ugly or overly cramped, and you are never anything but an angel to him there, but Kyle needs sleep and he finds himself face down on your couch, staring into the black all night. Or wandering home, restless and chewing his fingers bloody for hours afterwards. He’s so antsy in a room filled with nothing but you and your things. He catches his fingers in a door once out of impulse, trying desperately to shove away the urge to pick up a little statuette from some sudden uncontrollable kleptomaniac urge, and you notice and fuss and soothe and suddenly he has the desperate urge to smash something and take it to his skin and he wonders if you would stitch it together and kiss it afterwards. Kyle keeps the bandage. He sits on the couch and stares through the tv and thinks about it and he can’t bring himself to look at you because if he does, that unnamed, unknowable buzzing under his skin promises something and he’s too scared of himself to find out.

In his apartment it’s better. Kyle can cling to himself, a better man, a good man, when it’s soft and more controlled. You’re comfortable among his things and he doesn’t feel the drive to take the place around him apart. It feels like someone has taken a hot knife to him when you leave, which is fine. He counts the days before it’s too needy and strange to ask again. When he gives you back the hoodie, it smells like the two of you and he fibs about finding it under the couch while cleaning. Kyle digs his nails into his arm under the coffee table when you ask about his day and he wonders wildly if you knew about it. He wants to show you the marks on his arm, prick tears into his eyes and have you soothe him, but Kyle knows better than that. He doesn’t have a response to your inevitable questions. It’s not weird for him to want to seek the affection either. He’s like everybody else in this, starved for attention and cradling the source of it. He’s just smart enough to not grip too tightly and bruise you.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Part 7 - Date Activities

Slasher Handler Masterlist

NSFW under the cut.

CW: Non-descriptive mentions of torture, numbers and math, brief nudity, allusions to cannon-typical violence (Ghost's backstory), red herrings, bones

“Where ‘m I?” You slur around a dry tongue. Struggling to balance your weight on your hips, try to wrap your arms around yourself. Too late, you realize that there’s not enough slack on the chain to complete the motion. “Where‘re we?”

You want to scream. You want to cry and hide your face. You’re horrified to realize that you want Simon, your version of Simon, to materialize on the edge of the bed and comfort you. Unfortunately, all you can do is blink and sway.

“If you’re dizzy, you should lay back down.” Simon’s voice from that jaw-less skull is so disconcerting. In your nightmares, the skull mask sounds inhuman. Distorted, echoing. The burning bush overlap of every person who’s ever made you unsafe. Now, it’s just Simon’s measured speech.

But the rest of him is just as big and dangerous as you remember. He’s dressed like he expects to have to fight someone. His black jacket is covered by some kind of utility vest with a bunch of pockets. A handgun sits in a thigh holster, and on his other hip is the Big Knife. He’s not wearing his usual boots, these are heavier looking. If you weren’t so overwhelmed, you’d be terrified.

The masked killer on the other side of the room tilts his head and regards you for a long moment. The weird silence is such a Simon thing to do that you let yourself take your eyes off of him enough to take a quick look around the room. His chair is by the only door, a solid looking wood. To the left side of the room, there’s a bare folding table. On it, from what you can see, sit bottles of water, a bag of grapes, and some brown packaging. There’s another folding chair. At the foot of the mattress, there’s a huge, black hard case. The kind you’ve seen in action movies.

“Right now,” Simon finally answers. “You’re in the safe zone."

You blame the drugs in your system. It’s the only reason you can think of to look him in his eyes and blurt, “That’s not a fuckin’ answer, you cryptic asshole.”

You’re glad you’ve learned to read his eyes, because they’re amused when he stands. Even across the room, he towers over you. You clutch at the blanket to, what? Protect yourself? But Simon just crosses to the table and picks up a bottle of water and a sleeve of saltine crackers. He chucks both of them at your legs before returning to his seat.

“Sip the water, eat slowly,” he instructs. “And I’ll tell you the rules of the game.”

You can’t think of a reason not to, so you struggle for a moment with the bottle cap before bringing the bottle to your lips. Your mouth feels gross and fuzzy, but the water is cool. The crackers, when you finally tear the packaging, are exactly what you needed. You wish you had some ginger ale.

“You told Kyle that I’d taken you hunting,” Simon starts. “But I hadn’t really. First time was a happy coincidence. Second time, you planned the date activity and I kind of hijacked it, yeah?”

If your neck wasn’t so thick, I’d strangle you, you think. You take another sip of water.

“So I thought to myself, what parts of hunting might my sweet, clever girl be interested in? How can I make sure she’s having just as much fun as me? And I remembered your little cubes.”

You narrow your eyes at that. The Rubik’s cubes were one of the first signs that he’d been breaking into your apartment. By now, he knows that you know how to solve them. Two weeks after he’d moved in next door, though, he hadn’t figured that out. It had made your skin crawl to come home from work and see the colors in the wrong places. Now, sometimes, he’ll present the cubes for you to solve while you talk. When you hand him the completed puzzle, he scrambles it up and hands it back.

“You didn’t kidnap me to make me solve a giant Rubik’s cube,” you say.

“No,” he answers. If you could see his face, you think he’d be smirking. “But the first part of the game is a puzzle. You have to get out of the room.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you want to scream. Instead, you slowly eat your way through the crackers and sip your water and think. The metal cuffs on your wrists are far enough apart that you can easily reach the locking mechanisms. They’re just tight enough that you can’t wiggle out, but they’re not uncomfortable. You can’t see where the chain to the ground is latched, so if there’s a clasp on that end, maybe this will be more simple than you think. You doubt it.

Daylight is streaming in through the window behind you. The shadows of the bars are very obvious, so the only way out of the room is going to be through the door. Simon’s sitting on the hinge side, but the only way you’ll get out before he blocks the way is probably if he’s on this side of the room. Facing the table, maybe. Preferably not standing.

Maybe you can strangle him with the chain.

You freeze as soon as the thought enters your mind, cracker halfway to your mouth. Wrapping the chain around the neck of that death mask only makes sense. But the idea of killing Simon makes you feel like vomiting.

When you look back at him, his eyes are as heated as they ever get. “Don’t worry, precious. I made you a promise last night. No killing, no wounds. No “Saw” puzzles. Just a little escape room. Told me you like those.”

Had you? That sounds like something you would have said, back in the beginning, to see what he would do. You take another sip to clear your mouth and settle your stomach. You’re already feeling better. “What are the rules?”

“You’ve got ninety minutes to get out of the cuffs and get into the chest. Once you’ve done both, the timer stops, and I explain the next part of the game.”

“Can I ask you questions once I get started?”

“Of course,” Simon says, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest.

You bite your lip. “When does the timer start?”

“You tell me when you start,” he says. “We’re not in any rush.”

“What’s in the chest?”

“That,” he answers, eyes crinkling with an obvious grin this time, “you’ll have to find out for yourself.”

That is not an answer you want to hear, but there’s nothing to be done about it. You rack your brain for any more questions. There are, of course, about a million. But the one that sticks out is, “Why were you so nice to me, last night? You could have just drugged me. You did, anyway.”

Simon doesn’t say anything for a long time, just looks at you. He holds eye contact, so you don’t look away. After a full thirty seconds, he hums. “You said you missed me. That you wanted to be with me. You asked me to stay. I liked it.”

The way he says it, warm voiced and slow and soft, makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. There’s a spark of something in his eyes that you don’t want to examine. You’re too afraid to look away. But then he blinks and lets his eyes drift up and away from you. The breath you didn’t know you were holding whooshes out of you.

“Guess I’d better get started,” you say.

When you stand to the side of the bed, you find that you’re wearing one of his shirts, a pair of underwear, and a pair of socks. The room isn’t unbearably cold, but it’s not comfortable. The chain to your cuffs is much longer than you expected. You think it’s long enough for you to walk all the way around the room, unimpeded. If so, it’s long enough to get out the door, with a little extra slack. It’s locked to a loop bolted into the floor with a key lock.

You walk around to the table to get a good look at everything. There’s the water. The brown packages are four MREs, which you recognize from camping trips back when you were a teenager. There’s actually a few different fruits - grapes, apples, bananas, a bowl of chopped watermelon of all things. All of that is gathered on one side of the table. The side close to the empty chair has a manila folder. A glance inside shows printouts, three pages of text and forms, with some of the information redacted.

You let the folder fall closed and walk over to the chest. There’s two combination locks, each with four dials, one with numbers and the other with letters.

That’s two wrist cuffs, the lock for the chain, and two locks on the chest. If the cuffs share a key, this might be doable. If not… “Two or three keys, and two combinations?” you ask.

“Two keys, two combinations,” Simon confirms.

You do a quick calculation in your head. “A little more than 20 minutes per puzzle. That’s pretty tight, but doable. What happens if I don’t get it done in time?”

You turn to look at Simon and catch him looking at your legs. When he meets your eyes, his are smirking again. “You lose time in the second part of the game. And you’re going to want that time.”

With a sigh and a shake of your head, you walk to the wall across from the table. There are some cracks in the paint, a couple of scattered, discolored spots. But it doesn’t seem deliberate. So you leave it and head back to the table. The folder is tempting, but obvious, so you start with the fruit.

Bag of grapes, three apples, five bananas. You open the package of watermelon and poke around in it. No keys. Not in the bag of grapes, either. The apples and bananas are whole. But one of the bananas has a series of numbers followed by Xs written on it in black ink. 11 21 32 XX. You pry it from the others, carefully, and take it over to the folder.

The metal chair is cold when you use your hand to pull it out. You turn back to the bed and grab the thin blanket to cover it, then have an idea. You shake the pillow from the pillowcase and strip the sheets from the bed. No key, but the pillow has another set of digits and Xs written on it. 7 13 26 XX. You lift the mattress to look under it, but there’s nothing else, so you let it fall.

“Can I have a pen?” you ask, absently. You’re surprised when Simon plucks one from his vest and holds it out for you. You snort as you walk over to take it. “Can I have the key to the cuffs, while you’re at it?”

Simon’s eyes do something complicated as you take the pen. Then he tilts his head, reaches up, and pulls a thin chain from under his shirt. On it dangle two keys, one a tiny cylinder of a thing, the other a proper key. He lets them both drop against his collarbones.

You dart your eyes between the keys and his eyes. “Are you serious?”

“’D prefer if you opened the folder,” he says with a shrug. “But I do have the keys. Cost you… 15 minutes for one.”

“Did you just make that number up?” You laugh. Then it hits you and you glare. “You’re distracting me and stalling.”

“You asked,” he points out, chuckling as you whirl on your heel to go back to the folder.

That is neither disputable or worth responding to, so you don’t. You drop into your seat and open the folder. The first thing you do is jot down the numbers and where you found them on the inside. None of the numbers are repeated, so you leave them for now. Then you pick up the first sheet of paper.

It’s the service record for one Simon J. Riley.

A lot of the information is redacted. Most of the page is blacked out lines. But you see that he enlisted in 2001, had some kind of redacted gap from 2003 to 2004, then resumed his service. Then it jumps out at you. 2007, KIA. You can’t help but look up at him, and find him watching you already. You scour the page for any other information, but there’s nothing. So you flip the page.

This one is some kind of tactical… memorandum? Too much is redacted for you to be able to get much information about who the report is for, so you just start reading.

Mission to Mexico. Drug cartel, name redacted. Compromised leadership. Someone got double crossed. You start feeling sick at the description of torture, but most of the details are obscured, so you push through. Then a line makes you pause, and you have to re-read it. You flip back and forth between Simon’s service record and the report.

“Simon,” you say slowly. Your stomach is really twisted in knots, now. You’re afraid to look at him, but you make yourself meet his eyes. “Were you buried alive?”

He says, “Yes.” Your heart breaks.

The next few lines are blacked out. You really don’t want to ask, but, “How did you get out?”

“Blood, sweat, and tears,” he says, vaguely. “Probably not something you want to think about, sweet thing. Don’t want to waste time.”

“I need to pause the game,” you tell him. “because I just read that you were buried alive.”

“An explanation will cost you an hour,” Simon offers. His eyes are crinkled like he’s smiling.

“Simon.” Your voice is sharp to your own ears. “What the fuck?”

“Tick tock.”

You know from past experience that getting any more information from him will be like getting blood from a stone. So you make yourself read on. There’s a confusing bit about… brainwashing? Without the full context the report is a mess. Multiple civilian casualties, then… mission objective complete? Lots of blocked out text, surrounding a single word. ROBA.

You jot that on the lower half of the folder, then skim through the documents again for any numbers. Besides the years in the service record, there’s nothing that jumps out. So you jot down 2001, 2003, 2004, and 2007.

You decide this is a good enough place to start with the puzzles. The numbers on the pillow seem simple enough. You’re not good at math, but you’re good at patterns. You eliminate a few possible addition patterns, recognize it probably isn’t pure multiplication. Considering who Simon is, you gamble that there’s probably no fractions or decimals involved, so it’s probably going to be some combination of multiplication and subtraction. And as soon as you think of that, you see it. Times two, minus one. So the last number is 49.

The the second puzzle, from the banana, tickles your brain because you know you’ve seen it before. The numbers aren’t doubling. And it’s not simple addition. Adding in sequence seems to work. Adding 10 to 11 makes 21, then adding 11 works to get to 32. Plus 12 would make the next digits 44. That seems almost too easy, but these kinds of puzzles usually are. And it is a possible answer, so you write it down.

The only other potential numbers are the dates. If you pick the last four digits, that’s 1347. Another code. Unless it’s 2222. Or 0000. Or 2020...

Now you have a few potential 4 digit codes, and a possible 4 letter code.

“Time check?”

Simon looks at his watch. “Sixty-two minutes left.”

You hum an acknowledgment, and flip the pages in the folder, and the folder itself. There’s nothing else, so you leave the papers on the table and take your notes over to the crate.

Simon makes an interested noise through his nose. “That was fast.”

“Haven’t found the keys, yet,” you answer, “Gotta get a move on.”

You start with the letters, because it seems straightforward. And then you’re a bit stumped, because the lock doesn’t have a B available in the third slot. Or an A in the first. So you’ll have to find a cypher or something before you can tackle this one. Disappointing, but you still have time. You move over to the other lock and hope you have what you need. 4944 doesn’t work. Neither does 4449, 9444, or 4494. 2222, 0000, and 1347 are all a bust. You make your way through 1374, 1437, 1473, 1734, and 1743 before you give up.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

Crouched as you are, you have a new vantage point to consider. You scuttle your way under the table without putting your knees on the ground, and look at the underside. Sure enough, there’s a doodle of two bananas with a pillow in between. The dates were most likely a red herring. Or they’re the cypher to the letters.

“I got the numbers wrong,” you grumble.

“You’re a smart girl,” Simon says. “You can figure it out. Fifty-seven minutes.”

You scoot from under the table and make to stand up, but something on your leg catches your eye. Dropping onto the now bare mattress, you lift the edge of your shirt, Simon’s shirt, and see writing on your inner thigh, upside down so you can see it easily. Four digits, 01 10, and another fucking banana.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” you groan.

Simon snickers from his chair.

You grab your folder and pen and jot the new string of numbers down. 01 10 11 21 32 XX. Obviously, adding in sequence no longer works. It’s gotta have something to do with the number of 1s in the sequence, so you try to let go of math related assumptions. The first two numbers swap their digits. Then two ones. Then a two and a one. Then a three and a two. Zero plus one is one. One plus zero is one. One plus one is two. Two plus one is three. Three plus two is… five as the first digit? Sliding the tens to the ones place is one, zero, one, two… three. 53.

Banana pillow banana, then, is 5493.

Before you go to check, you stand up to lift your shirt up to look at your belly, then higher to look at the skin of your breasts. You ignore the low wolf-whistle Simon makes to do a quick inspection. Nothing jumps out, so you let the shirt drop a bit and pull your underwear away from your hips. You feel a bit silly staring at your own crotch, but it’s Simon so you figure nothing’s really off limits. And you’re rewarded with the discovery of a piece of tape with a doodle of a heart on it. The tape is garment quality, which explains why you didn’t feel it.

The heart doesn’t really give you much, but you pull it out and slap it on the folder anyways.

“Forty-nine minutes,” Simon says when you look up at him.

Back at the chest, you click the dials to the number sequence you identified and grin to yourself when the lock gives an easy snick as it opens. The other lock is still a mystery, but you’ve got one down, and still plenty of time to request the cuff key if needed.

You turn to look up at Simon from where you’re crouched. “How much does a hint cost?”

He pretends to think for a moment. “For that lock? Flash me your tits again.”

“Nasty,” you roll your eyes as you stand up. You lift the shirt up to your neck and are startled when he sits forward to rest his hands on your hips. The skull mask gets even closer, and then he’s kissing over your heart, eyes locked on yours. He leaves his lips against you through his balaclava, thumbs rubbing over the place where your hips meet your belly.

You stare down at that bone face from less than two inches away. You used to hope it was plastic. Now you know for a fact that it is not.

And then he lets you go and sits back, crossing his arms over his large chest. He looks at his watch.

“Forty-six minutes.”

You gape at him. “Where’s my clue?”

“That was your clue.”

“That’s the least helpful clue ever,” you complain.

“You found all the other ones,” Simon points out. “But I’ll tell you the solution if you let me fuck you.”

You scoff. “I don’t need you to tell me. I can figure it out.”

“I know,” Simon’s grin is easier to make out this close. “My clever girl.”

You grumble, but you can’t help but grin as you try to think of what the four letter sequence could be. On a whim, you try TITS. The letters are present, but that’s apparently not the combo. Heart has too many letters, but maybe has something to do with feelings. The lock doesn’t have the right letters for LOVE, forward or backward. Same with HATE. You try SRSK for Simon Riley the Serial Killer, but that’s not it. You’re on a date, so you try combining his initials with yours where it fits, but that’s not it either. In a fit of pique, you try TITS again.

Then you take a deep breath and think about Simon and you. Your relationship. DATE, KILL, and CARE are a bust. AMOR, EROS, HOLD, BOND. None of them work.

You’re getting antsy because you still need at least the key for your handcuffs and you're running out of time, but you make yourself take a deep, slow breath. SLOW and DEEP don’t work. And then you pause and look up at Simon’s face. At the skull.

BONE.

Nope. But it was worth a shot.

But thinking about skulls and bones makes you think of skeletons. Dead bodies. Cemeteries. Simon’s service record, breaking your heart.

BURY.

The lock clicks open.

You’re giddy as you swing the lid of the chest open. And, almost immediately, you scramble backwards, shoulders colliding painfully with Simon’s knees. Without thinking, you clamber up until you’re perched in his lap, staring in horror at the human skull grinning up at you from atop black cloth.

A piece of tape is on the right temple. In Simon’s scrawl, it simply says BRANDON.

[webslingingslasher]

I want trouble to go up to Peter and tell him to leave her alone PERMANENTLY bc that "no one is gonna try to date me bc we were seen together" shit is so annoying. I want her to tell him thats toxic and she would never do that to him pls

‘i unblocked you to yell at you.’

‘Please do.’

‘you’re toxic. you’re mean and toxic and holding me back. i would NEVER go around telling girls to watch out and be weary because you’re mine. it’s weird and gross.’

‘funny how you never wanna respond when you’re caught in your shit. you act like a tough guy but you can’t ever back it up.’

‘I’m not holding you back. I told Tarrent to stop his bullshit. It’s not on me if people still don’t want to mess around with you, I did what you asked.’

‘there’s an underlying threat and you know it.’

‘There isn’t.’

‘you know what? i didn’t wanna do this to you, parker but you made me.’

‘i’m gonna go out with zach kelph and you can’t do shit about it.’

‘That’s a low blow, trouble.’

‘Real low.’

‘you think it’s fun messing with me. it’s not my fault the only guy who isn’t scared is the guy you hate.’

‘if you were smarter you would’ve thought this through.’

‘I’m sorry that guys are blowing you off and making you feel shitty. That was all Tarrent, I had nothing to do with it. The worst I’ve done is follow you around, I never threatened anyone with violence. Even I know that’s too far.’

‘you didn’t stop it. you knew what was going on and you let it. you’re just as guilty.’

‘it’s a good thing zach doesn’t care.’

‘He’s not doing it because he likes you.’

‘He’s doing it because he hates me and knows you’re my only soft spot.’

‘you’re so selfish.’

‘you really have to make this about you?’

‘If you want to date other guys, go for it. I’m just letting you know Zach has zero good intentions. You’d be something to show off. That’s it.’

‘I CAN’T DATE OTHER GUYS!!!!’

‘WHERE HAVE YOU BEEN FOR THIS CONVERSATION???!!!!’

‘YOU FUCKING RUINED EVERYTHING!’

‘I COULDN’T PUT UP WITH YOU ANYMORE AND I FUCKING END IT AND YOU’RE STILL FUCKING WITH ME.’

‘date other guys he said!!! DATE OTHER GUYS???? I’VE BEEN TRYING!!!!’

‘asshole.’

‘i fucking hate you.’

‘i hate you so fucking much.’

‘i hate everything about you and i regret every fucking kiss and every time you fucked me and every time I THOUGHT YOU CARED ABOUT ME.’

‘you don’t like me. you never did.’

‘your aunt would be so so SO disappointed in you. i hope you know that. may would HATE who you are. this isn’t who she raised.’

‘surprise surprise. he has no response.’

‘I don’t know what you want from me. Do you want me to make an instagram post saying you’re free game? Do you want me to toss you to a friend? What do you want my answer to be?’

‘this is your fault.’

‘You dated a chapter member at the number one frat on campus, of course people aren’t going to move in on you two weeks after it ended.’

‘i didn’t date anyone.’

‘You’re right, everything we did was a waste of time and it never meant anything to me.’

‘oh?? he admits it??? wow. never thought i would’ve seen the day.’

‘Date who you want. Kiss who you want. Fuck who you want. But don’t do it to get back at me.’

‘And for the love of god don’t fucking pick Zach. This isn’t about my ego, trouble. Zach is a terrible person and he only wants to use you.’

‘you spelled parker wrong.’

‘You used to be nice to me.’

‘and i used to think you loved me.’

‘funny how wrong we both were about each other.’

‘I think you should block me again.’

‘you just love playing a martyr don’t you? you know you’ve never said sorry? not once? you never actually told me that you acknowledge you weren’t good to me and that you’re sorry it ended this way. that’s why i can’t stand you. you act like it still doesn’t matter. i just want real emotion from you and i still can’t get that. i mean come on peter. what else do you have to lose?’

‘It does matter to me. It matters a lot, trouble. I’m sorry I’m not crying to your voicemail but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t fucking suck for me. It does. I miss you. A lot. I miss you waking me up every night, I miss you reading next to me, I miss you taking naps with me, I miss you every fucking minute of everyday.’

‘It fucking hurts to think about. Even worse to talk about it with you. It’s my fault. All of this is my fucking fault. How do I have any right telling you it hurts me too? I only hurt because of me.’

‘There’s nothing more I want to do than hug you and tell you how sorry I am but I can’t do that without breaking down. I can’t.’

‘i don’t believe you’re crying over me.’

‘Ask my disappointed aunt.’

‘You weren’t wrong about that.’

‘that was a little mean.’

‘It was honest.’

‘doesn’t mean it was nice.’

‘I really don’t deserve you being nice to me anymore. I’ll tell Tarrent to make it right, okay? I promise you can have any guy you want. Even… Zach Kelph.’

‘i don’t want zach. i just wanted to be heard.’

‘I listened. I’m trying, trouble. I promise I am.’

‘yeah. i’ve heard that before.’

[ladykailitha]

Staking My Claim Part 4

Now we get to the part that started this whole thing. It was really meant to be the boys being silly and getting to be goofy.

Steve really has found his people.

@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @emly03

Part 1|Part 2|Part 3

***

When Steve woke up again he could hear the faint sound of a female voice talking in the front room. He was on his feet in an instant. He knew that voice.

He swayed a little when he stood, so he stopped to take stock of why. After a moment or two he decided it was because he stood up too fast as opposed to a remnant of the drug.

He went flying out of the bedroom and threw his arms around Robin.

She squealed with laughter. “Dingus! I was so worried about you!”

“I know, Robbie,” he replied and kissed her cheek fiercely. “But I was in good hands.”

Robin’s eyes narrowed on Eddie. “And were you going to get handsy with those hands, Mister?”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, but Steve laughed.

“That was the fucking plan before the asshole interfered.”

Robin slapped her knee. “Stevie was going to get laid. I told you going out was a good idea, even if things got derailed a bit.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head. “Maybe.”

“Robin here has been telling us all about the different jobs you two have had,” Jeff said with a large grin from the sofa.

Steve turned slowly to Robin. “You didn’t.”

She grinned up at him. “You looked cute in the shorts, babe.”

“I most certainly did not,” he defended hotly.

“I don’t know,” Brian said with a shrug. “The one time I took my sister to mall for ice cream, I didn’t think the uniforms looked too bad.”

All eyes were riveted on Brian.

“You’ve seen the uniforms?” Jeff asked eagerly leaning forward. “Do tell.”

Brian laughed. “Just cutesy little sailor outfits, dude. I don’t know what you want me to tell you.”

Eddie narrowed his eyes. “It is a pox upon mankind that I missed the cute little sailor outfit.” He held his hand over his forehead like a swooning maiden.

“The hat was hideous,” Steve insisted.

Eddie straightened up, eyes wide. “Lo! There was a hat, too?”

“Yeah,” Robin said. “Like the ones Donald Duck wears.”

Eddie then mock fainted. “Be still my beating heart.”

Steve leaned over the counter to look down on him. “Oh no! Looks like I’ll have to do CPR.”

Eddie was sitting up, suddenly flopped on the floor again. He stuck his tongue out.

“Darling,” Steve cooed, “isn’t it a little too early for tongue action?”

Eddie tilted his head as thought about it and then stuck his tongue out as far as it would go.

Steve laughed. “Let me guess, it’s never too early for tongue action?”

Eddie shook his head.

Steve walked around the counter and knelt next to Eddie. Everyone was bracing for a makeout session when Steve picked up Eddie’s hand and licked it.

“Ew!” Robin hissed, her face twisting in revulsion.

“Gross!” Gareth agreed.

Jeff buried his head in his hands. “Why would you even do that, man?”

Steve smirked, still holding Eddie’s hand. “You know, it’s like when you’re a kid and you lick the best cupcake to claim so no one else will it eat?”

Eddie sat back up in a rush. “Did you just claim me?”

He smiled back. “Yup!”

Eddie tackled Steve to the floor and began kissing all over his face as Steve laughed.

“Oh no!” Brian groaned. “There are two of them?”

Robin’s eyes went wide. “Weird little dorks with no sense of personal space?”

Jeff nodded.

“They’re going to be absolutely disgusting, aren’t they?” Gareth asked, scrunching up his nose.

“Mwah!” Eddie said, putting a big kiss on Steve’s cheek, before sitting back up.

Steve followed suit and put his head on Eddie’s shoulder, lacing their hands together.

Eddie nudged him with his shoulder. “Come on, darlin’,” he cooed. “You shouldn’t be sitting on the floor when you’re still sick.”

He got up and then helped Steve to his feet, too, their hands never parting.

“I’ll take his clothes to get them washed,” Robin said, breaking into the gentle moment that lingered there. “Where are they?”

Eddie frowned. “I think they’re still on the bathroom floor, unless one of the neat freaks cleaned up after him.”

Jeff and Brian both stuck out their tongues at him.

“They’re still there,” Gareth said, wrinkling his nose again. “No one wanted to touch them.”

Steve wrinkled his nose, too. “I’m sorry. They must have really been rank.”

“Hey, man!” Jeff said. “No is judging you or blaming you. You were sick. Drugged even. We didn’t touch them because we didn’t know what to do with them, not because they were gross.”

Steve blushed and ducked his head as Gareth led Robin to the bathroom with a plastic bag to gather Steve’s things.

Robin came back out and waggled her eyebrows at Steve. “Damn boy, you were dressed to fuck.”

Steve’s blush darkened and he tucked his hands between his legs. “Was not.”

“A crop top and booty shorts?” she questioned. “If that isn’t your slut outfit than what is?”

Eddie frowned. “Hey, hey. We don’t slut shame in this house. Nor do we victim blame.”

Robin blinked at him in confusion and then her face cleared, her eyebrows shooting up in shock. “No, no! That wasn’t what I meant! I was being... supportive? Excited for him? Because he was out to pull doesn’t mean he was down to fuck whoever asked. Steve is a choosy bastard that way. That’s all I meant. I swear!”

Eddie gave her the side eye, then looked to Steve. Steve nodded, indicating that yes, that’s what she meant.

Eddie sniffed disdainfully, causing the guys to laugh.

“I’ll allow it,” he said haughtily.

Robin laughed. “Stevie, you’re in good hands.” She turned to the guys. “I can take anyone home if they need to be back sooner rather than later.”

The other guys looked around each other.

Brian and Gareth raised their hands.

“I have to go into work tomorrow,” Brian said.

“And my mom said that if I could get home sooner, she’d feel better,” Gareth added.

Robin turned to the remaining Corroded Coffin member. “How about you Jeffy? You need to be back?”

Jeff shook his head. “I’d rather stay here and head back with Eddie and Steve. I don’t work until Monday because the shop is closed for inventory and between the two of us, I’m better equipped on handling anything if Steve gets sick again.”

Robin looked at Eddie who half shrugged.

“His mom is a nurse,” he explained.

Robin nodded. “Let me know when you boys are ready to go.”

Gareth and Brian nodded.

“Call me when you get home, dingus,” she told Steve.

He saluted and she laughed.

Soon their numbers were cut in half.

***

Part 5 Part 6

Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @justforthedead89 @bookworm0690 @vecnuthy @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @scheodingers-muppet @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @genderless-spoon @anne-bennett-cosplayer @irregular-child @lololol-1234 @monsterloverforhire @mugloversonly @live-the-fangirl-life @hellfireone @lublix @breealtair @mycatsstolemybiscuit @croatoan-like-its-hot @f0xxyb0xxes @jamieweasley13 @confuseddisastertm @sleepdeprivedflower @thedragonsaunt @r0binscript @dissociatingdemon @dragonmama76

[strbymacaroon]

Silent Love: Ch. 4 - Project Week

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Four

Previous Chapter: Fake Dinner Date W/Feels

Chapter One: New Roommate(s)

Master-List: Here!

.・゜゜・ ｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

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

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

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

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

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

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

Monday

(Day 1)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“And he agreed?!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nobara.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But Yuuji still walks away. 

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

They look so nice and big…

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It’s Yuuji’s.” 

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

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

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

“I don’t fuckin’ remember.” 

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

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

Gojo is just… that good. Unfortunately. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sukuna’s answer is quick, “Yeah.” 

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

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

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

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

Tuesday

(Day 2)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That’s cute. 

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

No, not cute. 

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

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

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

“Oddly specific.” 

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

“Weird blue-eyed freak.” 

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

Choso shrugs again, opening his locker. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You got into a fight?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wednesday

(Day 3)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look at me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hey.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

— 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Thursday

(Day 4)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Mahito just laughs. 

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

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

Sukuna shoves him off, groaning in disgust. 

— 

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

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

“Fuck off.” Sukuna barks. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The coach glares at Sukuna, quickly shutting him up. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck?” Sukuna smirks. 

“No.” You deadplan. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Nothing.”

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

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

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

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

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

That makes Sukuna flinch, “What?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Define a lot of girls.” 

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

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

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

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

He picks you.

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

Uraume.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t want to stop talking to him. 

A part of you wonders if Sukuna thinks the same. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“How was that?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You grab his hand. 

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

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

“I thought?–”

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

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

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

You nod, “Okay. Keep telling me.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘I’m a burner phone.’ 

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

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

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

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

Especially Yuuji. He didn’t do anything wrong. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You point your pinky up. 

Then, your pointer and thumb next. 

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

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

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

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

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

Sukuna stays quiet. 

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

Friday

(Day 5)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yuuji decides this is the best time to lay down in your bed, cuddling with all your girly stuffed animals and your pink sheets. “This is amazing.” 

You laugh, applying some of your makeup while Yuuji scrolls on his phone. It’s silent, and silence leaves you with your thoughts, your thoughts lead you to Sukuna. 

“Tell me about Sukuna.” You ask Yuuji, turning over your chair and giving him your attention. 

Yuuji seems to perk at this, giving you a curious look. “Random.” He tilts his head, “What do you want to hear?” 

“Anything.” You smile at him through the mirror, picking up your concealer. “Tell me absolutely anything about you two.” 

Yuuji thinks for a moment, looking at the roof then finally back to you. “Okay, so… back when we were younger, we were obsessed—and I mean, obsessed with Sailor Moon.” 

“Who was your favorite?” You point an accusing finger at him with your makeup brush. 

“Jupiter.” Yuuji says, his hand clapping as he tells you, “The ponytail, dude, the ponytail.” He places his hand over his eyes, “The athletic girl aesthetic.” He deeply breathes, “She was made for me, literally made for me.”

You laugh, tapping your lip in thought with the back of your brush. “I was a Venus girly.” You smile, recalling your youth, even humming the theme song. 

“No way! So was Sukuna!” Yuuji joins in with you, but actually sings the theme song, “Sailor Moon! Fighting evil by moonlight, winning love by daylight…”

You hold your brush like a microphone, “Never running from a real fight!” 

“She is the one named Sailor Moon!”

“She is the one named Sailor Moon!” You laugh, applying your light brown color to your eyelid. “That theme song will never leave my mind.” 

“Yeah, that show was amazing.” Yuuji pulls up his phone, “We loved it so much, we even dressed up as the characters for Halloween.” He flips the phone to you to reveal a picture with a small Yuuji and Sukuna, where they’re dressed in their characters along in their respective poses. 

“Oh my god, Yuuji, I need this photo.” You grab his phone, absolutely adoring the photo. “You guys are so cute together.” 

Yuuji sighs, pulling his phone away, “We used to be, now we’re just moody adults.” He sits down on your bed, while you grab some lip gloss and apply it to your lips. “Everything is fine, I just wish we could talk, you know?” 

You pass him a comforting smile and nod, “Yeah, I get you, Yuuji.” 

Yuuji awkwardly smiles, to himself, “Like, I love my brother, but… I don’t think he loves me.” He shakes his head, waving his hand. “I’m being dumb, ignore me. It’s fine.” 

“You’re not being dumb, Yuuji, not at all.” You rub your lips together. You also notice that Yuuji is staring at them, and you can’t help but smile. “Do you want some?” You sit down next to him, your knees touching. 

Yuuji’s eyes seem to light up at this, “Hell yeah!” He leans in close to you, “I wanna be a pretty girl.” He bats his eyelashes at you, pucking his lips. 

You laugh, grabbing his face and putting the lip gloss over his lips messily. You fake a cringe, “Oh, oops! I think I messed up.” You rub your thumb over his lips, just worsening the lips gloss, “Oh oops! It happened again I think I have too–” 

There’s a knock at your door frame, and both you and Yuuji look at it. 

“Am I interrupting something?” Sukuna looks at Yuuji, eyeing the sheer sticky substance on his lips, along with your matching ones. 

You practically bounce from your spot, your eyes full of glimmer, “Sukuna!” You go to hug him, only to be met with his finger flicking your head. You pause, cupping your forehead. “You could’ve just hugged me back.” You’ve been dying to see him all day, yet, he’s acting as if nothing happened between you two. 

Something did happen. 

“Too much, brat.” Sukuna whispers at you, but there’s a hint of amusement in his voice. “You’re bad with personal space.” He teases. 

You look to the side, crossing your arms over your chest while mumbling, “As if you’re not…”

“What was that?” He barks at you. 

Yuuji shakes his head, grabbing your shoulder and pulling you to his side. “No, we weren’t busy? Why, what’s up?” He lets his arm slide around your shoulder, pulling you into him. 

Sukuna takes a moment to respond, eyeing the way his brother holds you, but it isn’t long until his attention is back on you. “We’re going to a party tonight.” He tells you, “So, be ready by like seven.” 

You tilt your head at this, “Really? Oh my gosh, I love parties.” You dance a bit in your spot, excitement seeping through your body. “Are we going to a bar, or maybe a friend's house?” You tilt your head. 

Sukuna shakes his head, “No, I got invited to a frat.” 

Your expression falls, “Nevermind.” You turn on your heel, and duck under Yuuji’s shoulder. “I’m going out to eat with friends, who knows how long we’re going to be out?” You grab your lip gloss from the bed. 

Sukuna turns on his heel, “Be back before seven then.” 

You huff, turning back to Yuuji, “Ugh, can you believe him.” You grab Yuuji’ shirt and tug him down with you on the bed, both of your legs flying in the air for a moment. “He’s so dumb.” There’s a small smile on your face. 

Yuuji blinks at you, “Yeah.” He's smiling, nonetheless. He whispers your name, which makes you turn to look at him. This is when Yuuji moves in and cups your ear, whispering a single sentence in your ear. 

It takes you a second to process, but the moment you do, you immediately pull away from Yuuji, falling off your bed as you do so. Both of your hands cupping your mouth as your face is burning with embarrassment. 

Yuuji laughs, hand mimicking you. “I was just joking, I wasn’t being serious.” He tilts his head at you from your comfy bed, “Looks like you are, though.” 

“Don’t say that Yuuji, I don’t–” 

“Yes, you do. Don’t lie to me.” Yuuji swings his feet off your bed, narrowly missing your head. “This is actually crazy, he managed to make some like his bitchy face.” He places his hand on your head, “Who knew it would be an absolute angel like you?” 

You tilt your head to the side, “Wait, you’re not mad at me?” You cringe to yourself, “Usually when a girl likes their friend’s older brother, it becomes a huge mess.” 

Yuuji laughs, “I mean, are we not going to be friends anymore? If so, then, yeah, I’d be pretty mad you’re leaving me for my older brother.” He wrinkles his nose, “That would suck, like genuinely.” 

You laugh, pulling your legs together so you can hug him, “Yeah, that would suck.” You smile at him, “But that’ll never happen, I like being friends with you, Yuuji.” You push yourself off the floor, tackling him in a hugh while the two of you fall on your bed. “You’re a bit stuck with me right now, Yuuji, and if this is your pathetic attempt to get rid of me, I’m sorry to say it isn’t working.” 

Yuuji pushing you on the bed, hugging you back. “I’m so glad.” He smiles into your arms, hugging your way harder. You are a bit worried that you can’t breathe. Still, you find it endearing how much Yuuji cares for you, despite the small time the two of you have spent together. 

You’re also happy he still cares for his brother. Sukuna clearly cares for Yuuji, too, if only the two of them could talk to each other. 

When your phone rings, the sound startling you. You glance at your bedside drawer, seeing how Yuuji is closer to it. He leans over and peers at who the caller is. 

“Who is it?” You push yourself up and try to look at your phone with him. 

“Nobara.” 

“Oh.” You turn to look at your door, your eyebrows furrowing together. “Really? Shit, do you think she’s here?” You grimace, waving your hand. “Uhm, just pick up.” 

Yuuji follows suit, watching you turn back to the mirror and finish getting ready. He picks up the phone, “Nobara?”

“Yuuji? Where’s the love of my life?” Nobara asks ludicrously, it makes you and Yuuji laugh. 

“Currently hiding her body, why? You need her, or something?” 

There was a moment of silence. 

“Yuuji, I swear to god!” 

You and Yuuji burst out laughing, you come onto the call, “I’m here babe, I’m here babe. Tell me, what’s up?” You grab your phone. 

Yuuji can hear distant music in the background. “Are you already outside?” He asks, “Cause, we’re not ready—“ Yuuji quickly says your name as a correction, “She’s not ready, so, you may be waiting outside for a bit.” 

You send him a nasty glare, one that only makes him laugh. 

Nobara takes a moment to respond, and when she does, it’s not directed at any of you. “Did you hear that, Megumi? We’re going to be chillin’ here for a moment.” She sighs, “Alright, I’ll see you in a few.” With that, she ends the call. 

Yuuji sits on your bed, placing the phone back on the drawer. “With gas prices, I’m so glad I don’t have a car.” He leans his back, letting his head tilt. “That’s why I take the bus everywhere.” 

“You also don’t have a care.”

Yuuji nods, “I also don’t have a car.” 

“Does this mean that Nobara is our sugar mommy?” You narrow your eyes in thought, “You know, since she buys us everything, drives us around, is pretty hot…?”

Yuuji blinks a few times in shock, “Oh my god, we’re sugar babies.” He slaps his hand over his eyes, “I swore off this life back my freshman year… I can’t believe I’ve fallen back into this madness.”

“Back into this life?.” You repeat slowly at him, clapping your hands together. “You’ve had experience being a sugar baby?” You place your shoes on, glancing at the mirror and smiling to yourself. Perfect.

Yuuji nods his head placing his head on yours while looking at the mirror with you, “Of course, you think I’m paying for this place.” He scoffs with a laugh, “You’re funny, I would never. That’s too much work for me right now.” 

“Babe, Yuuji, love of my life, you’re telling me you’re Sukuna’s sugar baby?” You raise your eyebrow at him, looking at his face through the mirror. 

“I’m just Sukuna’s baby.” Yuuji nods to himself, “Yeah.” 

You laugh, pulling yourself away and walking towards your door, “Alright let's go, seems like I have to be back before seven for Sukuna.” You sigh, “Sukuna’s twenty one, right? It wouldn’t be snitching him out if I wrote down he drank.”

“I think so?” Yuuji follows you, finger against his bottom lip in thought. “I mean, last time I checked, he was seventeen.” 

You deadpanned at Yuuji, “Sukuna is not seventeen, I swear, you and your grandpa..” You smile to yourself, “Seems like Sukuna is the only one who’s good with birthdays in your family.”

Yuuji blinks a few times, “Really?”

You nod, “Yes, babe, he’s the one who corrected your grandpa when he said you were sixteen.” You grab his arm, pulling him to your side, “Now that I really think about it, Sukuna is very observant.”

Yuuji looks over his shoulder, “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” 

—

“I already told you, I don’t plan on drinking, I can just drive us back.” You huff on the window, drawing small shapes. Angry shapes. “I hate that I’m here right now, I never agreed to this.” You’re lying to yourself now, you like being around Sukuna. Even if it is a stupid frat party which you swore off from… still, you know you’re not going to have fun. 

Sukuna smiles to himself, “Yes, you did, the moment I agreed you could follow me around.” Sukuna places his hand on your head, “Don’t tell me you forgot our agreement, this is your project we’re talking about here, right?” He cooed at you. 

You feel your eyebrows mesh together, of course he’s going to use that against you. You hum, “Sure, whatever.” You scoff, keeping your eyes on the houses passing by, “I can’t believe you even have friends to invite you to these types of things in the first place.” 

Sukuna widens his eyes, “You’d be surprised.”

“Name one.” 

“There's no one you’ll know. Hopefully, you’ll meet some new people.” 

“I wish they’d be in my year.” You finally pull away from the window, leaning back in your seat with your legs crossed. “That would be nice.” 

Sukuna playfully rolls his eyes at you, “You’ll meet someone you like.”

You laugh dryly, “Sure.” The rest of the car drive is of that nature, laid back and comfortable. Riddled with small quips back and forth. 

Sukuna parks his car in the house's driveway. Which you think is rather convenient. Almost as if the spot is reserved for his car only. Which you can’t help but think is rather kind. 

Ah, yes, there once was a time where you did enjoy going to frat parties. The experimental freshman year, however, the one thing people never talked about was parking spaces. How hard it was to find one when a big party was being thrown. 

It was either Nobara parked in some random space far from the actual party, and the two of you had to walk over a block to get to the house. Or, show up a few hours earlier, avoiding the whole thing all together. While also helping the host get things ready.

Which is so incredibly embarrassing. 

You push the door open, and place your feet on the floor. Being careful to keep everything covered. Wearing skirts isn’t always the most convenient, but it is always the cutest. The particular skirt you’re wearing is a bit hard to move in. It was frilly and light. So, if you're too fast to take a turn, you’re sure you would flash people the panties you were wearing. 

Which brings up the argument, why wear it in the first place? You just really like how your ass looks in it, and that’s reason enough. 

Then, there’s your shirt, a piece of clothing you and Yuuji picked out together. You had taken too long picking out a skirt, only to give up and ask for his opinion on a shirt, which you’re more than happy you did. It's a crop top long sleeve. Over the shoulder while the material bunched up between your boobs in a loose tie. You amend Yuuji for this one. 

Your perfume was sweetly smooth, almost like vanilla. You also made sure to wear the jewelry Sukuna had yet to take back from you, almost in a taunting fashion. You threw on some bracelets to mix up the fun. 

Sukuna’s by your side, pushing his hair back with his hand. “Hope you’ll have fun.” He smiles to himself, walking towards the door’s entrance, “Your stuck up ass needs a few drinks.” You swear you hear him mumble, ‘I do, too.’

You tap the back of your hand hard, your eye twitching for a moment as you slowly follow Sukuna towards the porch. You can feel the music's vibration. It feels like it’s vibrating within you, which isn’t a feeling you were fond of–just grew to tolerate. Besides, after a few drinks, you’re sure it will tune out of your brain. 

Waiting at the door with Sukuna, you can’t help but notice the odd stares the few people outside are giving you. This time, you can confidently say it’s you they’re looking at, but you do your best to ignore them. Besides, they’re not even in the house. Why does it matter to them?

Sukuna’s quick to meet the person standing by the door, passing them a quick boyish smile. The guy passes an equally boyish grin back, he passes a glance at you, “Brought someone? That’s new.”

“A friend.” Sukuna leans in, and you swear that you see him mouth, ‘Babysitting.’

The man laughs, “Sure, whatever. Another friend.” The guy sarcastically remarks, he opens the door, eyeing you up and down, “Go have fun, gorgeous.” 

You pass him an uncomfortable smile. Oh. How lovely. You just know freshman year you would’ve been jumping with joy from the attention. Now, you’re a bit repulsed by it. You’re quick to pull yourself to Sukuna’s side. 

Sukuna notices your demeanor, “I feel like I should ask why you don’t like this.” He gestures his free hand around, indicating the party. “But, I’m not entirely curious.” He’s wearing a shit-eating grin. 

You lean into him, thinking for a moment. “I’m choosing to ignore that last sentence.” You say, looking at the people around you. Some people pass you a kind acknowledge nod, others give you a look you can describe as envy. You wonder if it’s because you’re with Sukuna, “I feel it’s the environment...” You trail off, having trouble finding the words. 

“You mean the college life?” Sukuna sarcastically quips, smirking to himself as if he’s the funniest man alive. The things you’d do to just have ten seconds to fight him. “Just say you’re a prude, puppy.” No, twenty. 

You look at Sukuna, rolling your eyes at him. “No. I don’t know if you noticed, but this type of party isn’t for women.” You push his shoulder, “It’s for horny college boys like you.” You laugh briefly, “I mean, why else do you think the ratio between men and women is so large?”  

Sukuna shakes his head. Waving at someone, he doesn’t know who they are, but they clearly know who he is. He should feel bad, but he doesn’t. They don’t matter. 

You nod your head, “See. You’re too close minded to notice these things, ass-hole.” You sing annoyingly at him, your arm looping through his. “Aren’t you happy to have someone like me around you? Sometimes, you need a quick reality check.” 

“Happy is one hell of a way to put it.” Yet, Sukuna doesn’t push you away, he does however, pull his hand away from your grasp and put it on your waist. “But, if that makes you happy, who am I to ruin that?”

You laugh, biting the inside of your cheek. “Sometimes, I think you should just agree with me without being a smartass.” You laugh, “It’d make me like you more.” 

“As if you don’t like me.” 

You scoff, but turn away with your face burning just a bit. “Sure. If that makes you happy, who am I to ruin that.” You mimic with a smile on your face, tilting your head back to poke his shoulder. You pull his shirt, bringing him down to your face level. “Besides, we both know you like me way more than you let on.” You smile at him. 

“Sure.” Sukuna looks away from you. 

“Just say I’m right, and I’ll praise you.” You smile at another girl, at least some people are nice here. “I mean, that’s why you come to these parties, right? To make out with anything with a pretty face.”

“I’m not.” 

“Sure, Su-ku-na.” You pull away from Sukuna, a bright TV screen catching your attention. You make your way over, leaving Sukuna to himself. Your eyes nearling sparkling at the game on the rather big TV–weren’t these college kids also broke?–and watching the careless gameplay. 

You lean on the back of the couch’s frame, letting your weight rest on it. Sukuna follows you, turning so his hand is to the couch and leaning on it alongside you. You lean into Sukuna, eyes bouncing from all four screens.

“I bet money, I can beat all these people.” You whisper, “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m a slut for Mario Kart.” You don’t even bother to listen to Sukuna’s reply before you're leaning into the couch. Watching these strangers horribly play, entertaining nonetheless. Yet, a part of you wonders how they can even hear each other. 

The music was so loud. 

Sukuna leans into you, “I genuinely do not understand how someone could be this bad at a game.” He laughs in your ear, “And, of all things, Mario Kart.” 

You look at him, nose practically touching, you didn’t realize you two were this close. “Don’t tell me you’re also good at Mario Kart.” You place a hand on his chest, creating a small distance between you two. 

“I’m good at everything.” 

“Ha. Ha. Right, of course you are.” You exaggerate. Yet, your eyes trail to the side, noticing a person standing to the side, yet glancing at Sukuna every now and then. Sukuna notices your distracted gaze, and follows it. However, the person is already by his side now.

For the first time ever, you watch as Sukuna lights up, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen him utter splitting his lips. “Uraume!” He turns away from you, “God, how have you been? It’s been some time?” 

Uraume smiles back equally as excited, “Sukuna! It’s been some time.” They wrap their arms around him, closing their eyes for a moment. “My stove’s been quite cold since you’ve moved out, you should really come for a visit.” 

Sukuna laughs loudly. 

You can’t help but think, it wasn’t that funny… Also, that name sounds… very familiar. Uraume… Uraume… Uruame… wait? Is that the saved number— 

“Hell yeah, you know I can’t go long without you, Uraume.” He pulls away, still smiling brightly. His dimples denting into his skin, while his pearly teeth flash at Uraume.

You want him to smile at you like that. 

You can’t help but feel a bit shocked, you’ve never seen Sukuna smile like this. Smile like he’s really happy, truly pleased with the person he’s talking to. You give the person a unsure smile, “Uh, hi, I’m…” 

“Uraume..” Sukuna places a hand on Uraume’s back, your name leaving his lips with far less enthusiasm compared to theirs in an introduction. “She’s the girl I’m stuck with for the week. I’m pretty sure I texted you about her.” 

Uraume nods, “Yes, I remember.” 

You blink a few times, recalling back to when you blocked the blonde girl. Mentally noting the few saved contacts, three to be exact. Two that you’re familiar with, and one you’re not. 

Uraume. 

“I used to live with Uraume.” Sukuna tells you, boasting in a way. “Absolutely love food, and their cooking is…” Sukuna breathes out in relief. “Immaculate.”

Uraume nods, “You should’ve met him when we first moved in, you should’ve seen how picky he was.” They roll their eyes, “I used to call him Lord Sukuna, that’s how stuck up he used to be. Good thing he’s finally gotten over that phase.” 

You didn’t know that. They seem close, really close. You’re a bit jealous. You bite the inside of your cheek, turning away. You push yourself off the couch, swiping your hand down Sukuna’s chest. “I need something in my system.” 

Uraume tilts their head, “If you want, I can mix up a drink for you?” They look to the side, “Actually, I’m supposed to be making drinks outside right now for some of your friends.” 

You watch Uraume leave, a bit disheartened. 

Sukuna eyes you, “Naughty puppy, I thought you said you weren’t drinking.” He taunts you. 

You turn over your shoulder, walking backwards as you tell him. “Maybe I’d stick to my word if you weren’t up my ass calling me stupid nicknames.” You turn on your heel, making your way to the kitchen. Yet, you could’ve sworn you heard him call your name again. You wave it off, it’s a party, a loud one, you’re going to hear all sorts of things tonight. Even now, pushing through the crowd, you hear some incredibly questionable conversations happening. 

You hug yourself, as much as you love the shirt and skirt you’re wearing, you can’t help but find it a bit inconvenient. You don’t have pockets, so you have to shove your AirPods and small wallet into your bra. Leaving you with your phone in your hands.

Reaching the kitchen, you peer into the backyard through the sliding door. Catching a rather large group of people sitting and talking. Which isn’t uncommon, yet, it looks more male dominated. 

More specifically, all the women are conversing with a few individuals. He’s leaning on a bar table, drink in hand while everyone is listening to what he is saying, his friend next to him adding small comments. Or, who you assume is his friend at least. They look… familiar. 

A part of you want to join them, hear what story they’re telling. You know it clearly caught the attention of many people, so it has to be somewhat interesting, right? More specifically, women, of course. It almost entices you, you feel an urge to go and listen. See what is being said to catch the attention of so many beautiful women. Albeit, you do think one of the men talking is attractive, so that can be a reason alone. 

Yet, only certain men have the power to do that at parties. Draw crowds and have them listen. Which strikes a small feeling of curiosity and jealousy, you wish you can have that power. It would be nice to be the center of attention. 

You shake your head, turning away. It doesn’t matter.

You look at the kitchen, your eyes dancing over the array of colorful solo cups. Red, pass. Pink, DTF. Blue, taken. Green, complicated. You wonder where the hell they acquired all these colorful solo cups. 

Naturally, you would want to grab a pink one, but know better. So, you grab a boring red one, making way to a soda bottle and pouring yourself a hearty amount of soda. You’re quick to take a sip, relaxing as you lean on the counter. 

Yet, immediately tense up when someone calls your name. 

You look to the side and relief washes over your body. Maki. Thank god you know at least someone here. 

Maki looks you up and down, “Never took you as the party type. You look good, though.” She eyes the location, “Did you come with someone, or are you..” She looks at your red solo cup, “Alone?..” 

You shake your head, a small laugh leaving your lip, “No, actually, I came with Suk–” You immediately shut your mouth, eyes widening with realization. “I came with my project.” 

“Really?” Maki asks, a bit estranged. “Who is your project on, anyway? I think I already told you who mine is on.” 

You take a ginger sip, nodding. “You just said it was on your brother, you never told me his name.” You tap your foot on the ground, “Although, I have a feeling I know who he is.”  

Maki gives you an expectant look, “You mean Megumi?” She laughs a bit, tapping her finger on the marble countertop, “I thought everyone knew that, I mean? Have you seen us?” She gestures to her face.  

“I didn’t know!” You yell, a bit too loudly. You quickly tense up, holding your cup above your lips as if that was concealing you from the world. “Why would you think I would know that? We barely even talk in class.” 

“Sure. I guess you have a point.” Maki takes a sip of her drink, “Anyway, what about you? You didn’t tell me.” 

“About what?” You respond, tilting your head. 

“About who your project is about?” Maki gives you an amused look, clearly trying to hide her smile. She’s not doing that well of a job. 

“Oh! Uhm, well…” You play with the end of your skirt, “Remember those football boys who passed us? Like, forever ago?” Maki nods. You bite your lip, suppressing an unsure smile. “Well, I kinda’ got one of them to agree to my project.” 

Maki punches your shoulder playfully. “Shit, did you really seduce one of them? Didn’t take you as a temptress, although I didn’t think you were a fan of parties either.” She tilts her head, eyes skimming up and down your body, “What other secrets are you hiding from me?”

You feel your face grow hot as you turn away from her, “Gross, more like forced.” You lean into her, “Remember the guy you told me you hated?” 

Maki’s eyes widen, “No.” It comes out so exasperated, and you swear on everything, that two letter word is the most emotion Maki has ever shown. “You kidding–how did you..? Is he here?” She pulls back slightly, “I don’t believe you.” 

You nod, “Yeah, I can go look for Sukuna.” You play with the rim of your cup, your finger circling it. “I can grab him really–” 

“You’re the girl Sukuna came with, right?” A feminine but scratchy voice comes from behind you. 

That voice… it sounds… familiar. Way too familiar. You peak over your shoulder, looking at the women behind you. Your eyes widen at her figure, and blonde hair. Oh my god, it’s the girl you blocked!

No, wait, you actually recognize her. It’s the girl from back when you first moved in with Yuuji. Holy shit, what a small world. 

As soon as her brown eyes land on your face, they’re filled with anger. “Oh my fucking god, there’s no way.” She smiles mockingly at you, “Oh, shit, no, I mean…” She pushes a chuck of hair behind her shoulder, “I recognize you, you were the crazy ex.” 

You blink a few times, before shaking your head timidly. “N-No, not the crazy ex.” You take a hesitant drink of your soda, “And, Sukuna’s only had one ex back in highschool. I promise, she’s long gone.” 

Maki sharply breathes behind you, clearly laughing, before taking a quick sip of her drink. The blonde girl seems to notice this, her expression souring, “Oh, yeah. You’re right, I’m probably just mixing people up. I mean, he was hanging out with this girl like two days ago.” 

“That was probably me, too. We’ve been together all week for a project.” You tell her slowly. 

She nods, “Oh, that makes so much more sense! Sukuna wouldn’t choose to be around someone like… well.” She looks behind her at her friends, “You know… He’s not into the whole..” She gestures to you, her hand loosely referencing up and down your body. “He’s more into someone… you know.” 

You feel unsettled by her smile, “I don’t think I do?” You blink a few times, looking at Maki for a second, “I’m confused here, are you insulting me? Or, are you trying to be mean?” This is so weird, you’ve never experienced something like this before. 

She gasps dramatically, “Oh, good lord, no. Why would I be mean to you? I’m just giving you advice!” She moves in closer, “If you want, I can tell you how he likes to be sucked off. Or, what position is his favorite? Whatever you prefer, babe.” 

You shake your head slowly, “I–I’ve never done anything with Sukuna?” You wrap your arms around your body, starting to feel a bit… insecure. 

She blinks at this, her lips parting ever so slightly,  “Oh, right, that makes sense.” She turns away, letting out a breath of relief. “I really thought for a second his standard fell. Good to know they haven’t.”  

A part of you wants to bite back, say something along the lines of, ‘I don’t need to touch him, he jacks off to me when I’m right next to him.’ But, you bite your tongue and force something more pleasant out, “Yeah, it’s no wonder he blocked you. Twice.” Maki laughs behind you, which gives you some semblance of security. You pretend to think, “Actually, now that I remember, I was the one who blocked you the second time, since he asked me too.” 

The girl’s eye twitches, her demeanor crumbling before she bites her cheek with a smile, leaning back ever so slightly. “Okay, well. Tell him, since the two of you are so close now,” She wrinkles her nose with a smile, “That I’m not going to be free this weekend, but I can make it Monday.” 

“Oh, okay.” You smile, “If you want, I can make sure he doesn’t have anyone over in the meantime.” You take a sip of your drink, “I’m sure I can actually entertain him other than whoring myself out and tossing my panties to the side.” You wipe the side of your mouth with your thumb, “I’m sure he’s told you the story behind his tattoos.” 

Her fake smile seems to completely fall at this, her depression hardening into something… dark. “You fucking bitch.” She seethes at you, “He didn’t tell you shit, why the hell would he tell something like that to an ugly bitch like–”

“Awh! I told you she’s cuter up closer.” Two arms lay over your shoulders, a head resting on top of yours. “Something else is even better up close, too.” His voice is sickly playful, and he’s touching you as if the two of you had been friends for years. “And to think, Sukuna’s been purposely hiding her away from us?” His head twists to the side, clearly talking to someone that isn’t you. 

“Yeah, sure. If that’s what you want to call it.” A lazy voice responds, it sends a shiver down your spine. “Sukuna’s going to kill you if he sees you touching her, though.” He gives you a quick look, it almost looks like a silent look a girl gives you as a warning. 

Is he warning you? About… the guy hugging you? That makes sense, right? A shiver shoots down your spine when you hear him laugh above you again. He’s definitely warning you about the guy. 

The girl freezes, her eyes moving above your head. “Mahito.” She says with forced enthusiasm, an equally forced smile accompanying it. “I was just having a fun chat with–” 

“Your lying face is really ugly.” Mahito says, his hands pulling up and hugging your shoulder. He leans down, lowering his face to your ear, “You should give her some tips.” He tells you, “Maybe she’ll be as pretty as you one day.” He turns his face, and his hair tickles your cheek, “Don’t you agree, Choso?” 

There’s a slight pause, and you can only read the girl's expression across from you. It’s sour. “Yeah, maybe if you weren’t a bitch, you’d be more bearable.” Choso finally adds with a lazy shrug. 

“Ah, don’t say that, she’s not completely bitchy.” Mahito pulls off you, reaching into his back pocket. “You should see the video I have of her, so much better and cuter.” Again, you can’t stress how enthusiastic he sounds, it’s unnerving. 

Choso scowls at that, pulling away from Mahito. “Get away from me…” 

The blonde groans at Mahito, twisting on her heel and walking away. 

Instinctively, you go to thank the stranger, but immediately push yourself into the counter trying to back away from him. He’s so close, his nose is practically touching yours. “I can’t believe he’s been trying to hide you away from me, that selfish Sukuna.” His hair is a bright blue, and you start to wonder if your hair is considered normal or flashy. 

You look at Maki, only to see her equally confused. You look back at Mahito again, “Uh?... Hide me away from you? I’m sorry, but I don’t know you.” You pass him an uncomfortable laugh, leaning farther into the counter. 

“Yeah, I mean, that’s why he has you following him around campus.” Mahito blinks at you, his eyes sucking your expression and movements. Knowing that you’re off limits, something that Sukuna has purposely tried to keep away from him, has him high on excitement. “Right, Choso?” 

When you look to the side of Mahito, you feel a realization click. Choso, he’s the cute guy from earlier, along with Mahito. These were the guys in the group. “Yeah, you should’ve seen Sukuna’s face when Mahito talked about you.” He smiles to himself, taking a drink from his cup without taking his eyes off you. “Wanted to kill him.” 

You look back at Mahito, and really think. He looks familiar for a reason. 

It hits you like a truck. 

You push on Mahito’s chest, “You’re–you’re the guy who messed up Sukuna’s shoulder.” You stand up straight, “The one who tried to hurt him…” on purpose. The sentence finishes in your mind. 

Mahito smiles crudely at this, “Awh, look how scared she looks.” He pulls himself to the side, allowing Choso to look at you, “Her puppy ears are practically pulled to her head in fear, isn’t that so cute?” 

Choso seems a bit disturbed by Mahito’s antics, but just passes him a half-assed shrug. At this moment, you truly think this is karma for all the times you’ve called Yuuji a cute puppy, it just has to be. 

Mahito only smiles at this, leaning in closer to you, “C’mon, I’ll treat you like one too.” He wraps his arms around your shoulder, pulling you close to him. “I’ll get you treats, pet you, pull you around on a leash…” He lowers his face in front of yours. “Doesn't that sound nice?”

You shakily exhale, there’s no way this is happening. “No. Why the fuck would I want that?” You look at Maki, watching as she’s moving closer to you, shoving the man off you. You just shake your head at her, “Let’s go, this guy’s a creep.” You place your cup down, grabbing Maki. 

Maki huffs, but leaves it as is. “Sure.” She pulls herself to your side, “What weirdos, I swear…” 

You just nod in agreement, but pause when you see Sukuna eyeing the place. When he notices you, he’s already by your side, “Where the fuck were you? I thought you said you were getting a drink.” He looks at your hands. 

“I was getting harassed.” You say a bit bluntly, “By a boy, and a girl.” She’s definitely not a girl’s-girl. 

Sukuna’s eyebrows pinch, his hands coming to your shoulders, “What? What the fuck do you mean? Who the hell was bothering you?” Despite his tone, his hands are actually really comforting. It’s a bit weird. 

“Uh, the girl from when I first moved in.” You tell him, which immediately garners an eyeroll. “And, the blue haired guy–Mahito, the one who hurt you on Thursday. He was like…” You look to the side, “He was bothering me.” 

Sukuna lifts his eyes from your face, and you naturally turn to look at what caught his attention. Only to close your eyes the moment something sweet and sticky hits your face, it’s wet and trails down your neck. Your skin, and hair clumping together. 

Well. Fuck me. You blink a few times, your mascara clumping together as you lift your hand to carefully wipe your eyes. Someone just threw their drink at you, and immediately your mind goes to the annoying bitch from earlier, but it’s quickly debunked by a sinister laugh. 

A boy laugh, more specifically. Because, of course it is. Mahito tosses the cup carelessly behind him, placing his hand over his lips. “Oops! Mistakes happen, dear. Let me help you with that.” He immediately goes to wipe you down, but Sukuna’s hand grabs his wrist tight. 

“Don’t you fucking dare.” Sukuna twist his hand painfully away from you, “I’ll slam your head so hard, it’ll fix whatever fucked up mental shit is going on with you.” He shoves him away, watching Mahito stumble over his footing. 

You quickly threw your hair over your shoulder, looking down at your now red stained shirt. You blink a few times in pain, what would Yuuji think? You look back at Mahito, only to see him grinning. God, I want to punch him. 

Mahito tilts himself to look past Sukuna, “If you want, I can grab a shirt from my room. Then, you can toss your shirt in the wash.” He’s taunting you, but before you can respond, Mahito’s speaking again, “And, you might want to make a quick decision, that bright red color stains if you leave it in too long.” 

You groan, looking down at your outfit. This shirt was something you bought with your plushy-money, a spend that took way too much will power to swipe your card on. Yet, you did because you thought it would be nice to treat yourself. 

Which means, it was an absurd amount of money. 

You shake your head, “I need it washed now.” You can feel the sticky liquid seeping down your body, collecting into your skirt. “I really like this shirt.” 

Sukuna shoves Mahito away, not letting him respond as he tosses Maki his keys, “There’s an extra shirt in my trunk, bring it to the washroom.” He places his hand on your back, “Here, let’s go get you cleaned up.” 

You just nod. 

——

Frat parties aren’t my thing. You chant in your head like a prayer, hugging yourself. It has been over half an hour, and Maki still hadn’t turned up with the shirt. So, Sukuna decided it was best to give you his shirt–the only one he was wearing–while your clothing washed within the first five minutes of waiting. 

So, that’s how your day is going. Sitting on top of a washing machine, in a random frat boy laundry room, practically naked, while Sukuna stands shirtless three feet away from you. Truely how you envision every Friday night to turn out as. 

You can feel your face burning at the close proximity. It feels worse than Thursday, at least you were clothed, but now you’re probably equally as naked. God, this is horrible, you genuinely can’t handle this anymore. Luckily, the muffled music and rumble of the washing machine clouds your mind. 

You sigh, crossing one leg over the other as you lean back. Enjoying the vibrations over the lower half of your body. Like a nice massage on your legs and thighs. When the door props open, an unsure version of your name follows. 

You pop up, tilting your name at the person, “Maki?” You ask, tilting your head. “Is that you?” Please be Maki, please be Maki. You genuinely can’t stand the idea of being in a quiet room with a shirtless Sukuna any longer. 

“Yeah.” She pokes her hand in the room, a shirt and key attached. “I thought Sukuna’s car would be parked around the block, not on the fucking drive way.” She laughs, but it’s littered with pain and exhaustion, “Imagine my horror when I spent thirty minutes running around the block only for it to be here.” 

You pass her an awkward laugh, pushing yourself off the machine and grabbing the things. “Thanks Maki, I totally owe you one, babe.” She waves you off, “Sorry, again, I’ll see you at class.” You pass her a polite goodbye, before shutting the door and locking it. 

You sigh, letting your head fall on the door with a soft thud. “I hate this.” 

“Yeah, me too.” Sukuna sighs alongside you.

You turn to look at him, “I don’t know what to say.” You move back to the washing machine, pushing yourself to move atop of it again. “Maybe… you have shitty friends?” You place his keys on a shelf. 

“They’re not my friends.” Sukuna says, closing his eyes and trying to relax. 

“I told you, you didn’t have friends.” Uraume flashes through your head, and you feel that sting of jealousy again. You drape the extra shirt over your lap. “I guess except for Uraume.” You turn away from him, “I’ve never seen you smile like that, were the two of you–”

“No.” Sukuna stops you, “Don’t tell me you’re jealous.” 

You flinch, quickly looking back at Sukuna, “What? Why the hell would I be jealous?” You furrow your eyebrows, your face burning up. “Gross.” You stick your tongue out dramatically, pretending to gag. 

Sukuna finally opens one of his eyes to look at you, “Whatever.” He closes them again, “If you don't like me, just say that. It’s annoying to deal with you being a bi–” He stops himself, your name slipping your lips as a correction. 

You find it funny, a small laugh leaving your lips, “I don’t like the blonde girl, the one from where I first moved in.” You lean back, softly swinging your legs back and forth. “She totally tried embarrassing me earlier.” 

“She’s here?” Sukuna asks, almost tiredly, “God she’s annoying, it’s why I blocked her.” He laughs to himself, “I swear, the unsaved numbers are always the most annoying.” 

“She told me she can’t make it this weekend, but is free Monday.” You look at Sukuna, “She thinks we’re sleeping together, too.” 

“Oh, okay.” Sukuna opens his eyes at you, “Did you tell her we are?” 

“No, I told her I could entertain you without being a whore.” You look down, playing with his shirt on your lap, “And, I kinda’ implied it, too. Maybe…” You bit the inside of your cheek, a small pout forming on your lips. “She just bothered me..” 

Sukuna’s shoulders jump up, before a quick breath of air leaves his lips. You snap your head at his face, watching as his hand presses over his lips, trying to hide his laugh. “S-Seriously? You let that annoying bitch get to you?” He is laughing between his sentences. 

You can feel your face burning up even more, “Don’t–I didn’t let her get to me!” You turn away, “I just didn’t like the way she was talking to me, or about you...” But, she did get to you. 

It’s true, in some weird sense. Maybe, Sukuna didn’t find you that attractive, and all you are to him is his little brother’s annoying friend. It’s true he masturbated to you, once, but that’s when you first moved in. You were new and shiny, now you’re just his roommate. 

Maybe, she’s right. 

Sukuna laughs one final time, shaking his head. “Cute.” He tilts his head to the side, “You’d be a good girlfriend.” He gives you a playful look, it’s something you’ve never seen before. A bit of a boyish smile.

You absolutely love it. “I’m a good friend, is what you mean to say.” 

Sukuna shrugs, “Maybe. Besides, you’re way hotter, I already know she said something about being my type.” He rolls his eyes, “She only says that because I said she had interesting hair.” 

You shrug, recalling her hair color. “Blonde. Do you have a thing for blondes?” 

Sukuna seems to laugh loudly at that, “She’s not a real blonde. So, I don’t know why she boasts so much about it. But, I honestly don’t care.” He looks at you, his eyes moving to your hair. “You have interesting hair, by the way.” 

You roll your eyes and grab his shirt, lifting it. “I can’t take you seriously shirtless, come get dressed.” You push your hair behind your shoulders. 

Sukuna looks down at his body, before laughing to himself and pushing himself off the wall. He’s quick to say, “Dress me.” 

You give him a questionable look, “Dress yourself.” But, you’re still bunching his shirt together, sticking your hands through the collar. “C’mere.” You naturally spread your legs for him, wanting to give him room.

Sukuna exhales, slotting himself between your thighs. His hands rest on top of them, soft despite their big size. It’s softer than he’s ever touched you before. “I feel like a kid.” He whispers. 

“You asked for this.” You scoot closer to him, and his hands slide to your waist. You lift your hands, looping the collar through his head. Sukuna pokes his head in with his eyes closed, before opening them back up to look at you once the shirt hung from his neck. 

“You’re soft.” He squeezes you a bit harder, his pupils wide. “Smell good, too. What type of perfume are you wearing?” He looks so… pretty. 

It’s so cute, so domestic and sweet. You’ve never seen this side of Sukuna, “Do you… want to feel more?” You lower your hands to his, pushing them down and under his shirt. His fingers ghosts your bare hips and stomach. “You can.” 

Sukuna sighs, his eyes fluttering for a moment, “Fuck…” He places his head on your shoulder, his nose tickling your neck. “This is so weird.” This is so hot. 

You giggle, “Yeah, you’re acting weird—different.” You lift your arms around his shoulders. 

“I feel like I’m going to break you if I touch too hard.” Yet, Sukuna wants to do that, he wants it so fucking bad, it’s driving him insane. He genuinely feels like he’s losing his mind, “But, I want that.” 

You look down, your lashes fluttering. 

“..Me too.” 

Sukuna feels himself snap. His hand tearing away from your waist, and grabbing the back of your neck to pull you into a kiss. One that he’s been dying to have. Groaning against your as the hand on your waist pulls your body flush against him. 

You softly gasp. Before wrapping your legs around his torso, pulling him closer to you as your hands tangle in his hair. It’s so soft, and he feels so nice against you. His lips are perfect, moving against yours in a way you’ve been dreaming of.  

Yet, you’re surprised by how sweet it is, slow and a bit sloppy. He’s treating you carefully, his lips more passionate and longing more than anything else. Sukuna moans into you, his thumb resting behind your ear while his fingers lift the back of your head. Clearly trying to make it easier to kiss you deeper.

“Fuck, you don’t know how fucking long I’ve been wanting to do this.” Sukuna’s trying to control himself, he wants to be nice with you, he really wants to be sweet and treat you like glass, but he wants to absolutely ruin you, too. He wants to see you cry and moan, he wants everything to be filthy and dirty. 

You give him a quick kiss, before pulling away. “W-Why didn’t you?... I–I thought you–you hated me?...” You grab the shirt and toss it off Sukuna, pressing another kiss into his lips while the shirt is covering his eyes. 

Sukuna smiles against you, “You think too fucking much.” He tosses the shirt to the side, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you into him. “Jump, I want to feel you… closer.” 

You immediately listen, applying your weight on Sukuna while he carries you, twisting the two of you so his back is on the washing machine and resting his weight on it. You go to kiss him again, only pause when his hand grabs your jaw. “Wait, puppy.” 

Your lashes flutter at his harsh actions, your stomach flutters with a shivering sensation, something about his harsh actions is… really hot. You can feel your knees hit the top of the washing machine as Sukuna sits on it, your thighs sinking into his as you sit in his lap. 

You can feel him underneath you, you can feel his cock perfectly between your legs, and it makes you dizzy. You just want to… move, or push your hips forward to get a little bit of friction. Something to satisfy your sopping pussy. 

“Can I?...” You place your hands on his chest, moving your hips forward. Immediately a satisfied sigh leaves your lips. He feels thick between your lips spreading you open, your clit catching perfectly and creating delicious friction. You let your forehead rest on his shoulder, you wish you could feel it. Without your panties in the way. 

Sukuna looks down for a moment, a shaky breath leaving his lips. “Oh, of course babe, take what you need.” He places his hands on your thighs, letting his fingertips ghost under the shirt you’re wearing. Grabbing your hips and working your pussy against his dick print. “And don’t stop fucking stop, I want to watch you.”

The idea of Sukuna watching this–watching you, makes your body warm. Knowing that he’s getting off to you, and your body is gratifying. It’s you who he’s thinking of, and it’s you who he wants right now. It’s almost feel rewarding, after all the shit he’s put you through, after all these days of being an asshole, he’s finally warming up to you. In the best way possible. 

You nod, “Okay, I want you to–to watch.” You push your lips against his, giving him a quick kiss. “Wanna’ make you feel good, too.” Sukuna just smirks against you, kissing you back with a sloping tone, before pulling away. 

“Yeah?” He places his hands behind him, leaning back and lifting his hips into you. “Fucking make me feel good, slut.” He looks down at where the two of you connect shamelessly, “Don’t use that smart brain of yours either, let this control you.” He rolls his hips into you, groaning when you join him in the motion. 

Who fucking new grinding was this amazing. 

You whimper, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth as you grab the bottom of Sukuna’s shirt, and pull it up your torso, revealing the panties you’re wearing to Sukuna’s perverse eyes. He instantly groans, drinking up the way you’re absolutely soaking. Fuck, he wants to fucking ruin you, do shit that will ruin you for the rest of your life. Make it so the only cock that can get you off is his, and his alone. 

You pull the shirt off your body, tossing it behind you. Sukuna takes this time to press open kisses on your cleavage. His finger hooking around the middle band of your bra, tugging it down to let your tits bounce out of their confinements. He groans at the sight, his dick swelling underneath your cunt. 

He moves to cup one, “Fuck, the things I’ve thought about doing to these.” He kisses around your nipples, his tongue working around them. “Been dying to look at them, knew they’d be perfect.” He finally licks a strip up your nipple, sucking on them to emulate pleasure throughout your body. You pussy throbbing against his dick. He can fucking feel you, he can feel how nasty you are by liking what he’s doing to you. 

You’re a bit gone, head feeling cloudy and heavy, almost as if you’re going to faint. It’s almost too much, and he hasn’t even touched you yet. You’re just grinding on him like a desperate slut, happy with any type of attention he’s giving you. But, you love it, it feels so good, it’s amazing. His dick rubbing between you, and his tongue working at your tits. You want to feel it inside, you want to feel–you can’t even… you just want him inside you, anything inside of you.

One of Sukuna’s hands harshly grabs your cheeks, forcing you to look up as his mouth moves to your collarbone. His free hand continues to work your hips into him, loving how you’re ruining his pants. If there’s one thing that Sukuna absolutely loves about sex. 

The depravity. When a girl cries over his cock, or loses any sense of reality from how good she feels. When drools or strings of silva coat his cock or lips, the sheets or any surface are absolutely ruined. Sukuna wants to see you crumble into that sense of pleasure, and pain. Feel the very lows so that the highs are absolutely blinding. 

Sukuna’s fingers hook underneath your jaw, his hot tongue sliding over your collar bones, forcing your hips to twitch, then still. Clearly a bit shocked by his actions. Sukuna laughs a bit, before rolling his tongue all the way up to your chin, his mind high on your soft squeaks. He needs to fucking taste you right now. 

“Stick out your tongue.” Sukuna’s fingers pull you back down to look at him, his thumb hooking around the corner of your mouth. You immediately follow his directions, your pink tongue falling out of your mouth. Sukuna nods, “Fuck yeah, that’s a good slut.” Immediately his tongue rolls under yours, wrapping around in a circle.

It feels so nasty, like he's doing whatever he wants to you, but it feels so good at the same time. Degrading your mind into nothing but a pile of mush as you just do as he says. You can feel your split mixing with his, his taste clouding your mind. It feels so good. You moan, your lashes fluttering while rocking your hips. So–so good. 

Sukuna laughs at you, nodding his head, “Yeah, I know you like this shit… becoming a stupid mess on my dick, and I haven’t even done anything?” He pulls his thumb from your mouth, a string of silva pulling and falling on your thigh. “Want me to make you feel good?”

You nod dumbly, naturally following his face for more sloppy kisses, if you could even call them that, before soft moan tears throw you. His wet thumb is carefully slotted right above your throbbing clit. You silva wets your cloth underwear to create a small wet stain. 

You sigh, melting into his touch, your cunt rubbing against his clothed dick. You gasp when his thumb starts moving, circling your clit slowly yet pressured. A perfect in between that has your thighs trembling. 

Sukuna laughs again, nodding his head, “That’s right, that’s right. Just relax, let me use you.” He whispers, pressing kisses into your ears and cheeks, “You want that, right? To become my fuck toy, a hole for me to fuck for however long and hard I want?” You nod thoughtlessly. “Yeah, I know, baby, I know. You want me to use you, fuck you so hard you’re begging me to stop, right? Don’t you want that?” 

You fist your hands around his shoulder, “Y-Yes, puh-please, I want that… I-I want you!” You let your body rest on his, soaking up his warm body heat. It’s suffocating as much as it is dizzying. “Please, I wa–wanna’ co–I wanna…” You babble.

“I know, I know… You want to relax, forget about your studies and anxieties, and just lose yourself in pleasure.” Sukuna mumbles in your ear, “I know how good it feels, you just relax f’me, okay? I promise, you won’t have to use your pretty puppy-brain for any of this.” 

You just nod, resting your forehead on his shoulder while his thumb works pleasurable circles into your clit. “Yeah, just like, doll.” He kisses your shoulders, “So fuckin’ glad you let me do this before the week ended.” 

For some reason, that clears your head a bit. “Wh-What?” You let out a deep sigh, pushing your hips into his thumb. “What does… th-that mean?..” You moan again. 

Sukuna laughs a bit, but it sounds unsure. “You know, this is the last week–”

You stumble on your feet, bumping into the wall across from the washing machine. Your breath is uneven, your lips a bit swollen. Your lips part as your breathing grows in severity, your eyes glazing over. “You’re joking… y-you’re joking, right?” You sniff, “You didn’t just do all that with me, knowing it wasn’t going to change anything–knowing that you’re just not going to talk to me anymore.” 

Sukuna looks… indescribable. 

You furrow your eyebrows, “Talk to me!” You seethe, your tears sliding down your cheeks. “You’re telling me, that you were just going to fuck me, then still say we made a ‘deal?’ Were you planning to pull that shit on me after we…” You groan, lifting your head and whipping your tears. 

Sukuna whispers your name, but it isn’t comforting, it isn’t even to draw your attention, it sounds more like a warning compared to anything. “Don’t be like that, we’ve talked about this.” He pushes himself off the washing machine, taking a step closer to you. 

You shake your head, fixing your bra. “Get out.” You bite the inside of your cheek, looking at your feet. “I can’t look at you right now.” You push around him, looking at the washing machine, seeing that the clean cycle has finished. 

“It’s not like that.” Sukuna tells you, “I’m just…” He groans. 

“I told you to get out.” You toss his shirt at his face, opening the washing machine and grabbing your clothing. It’s damp, it’s cold, but it smells good, and the stain is gone. “Go to the car, wait for me there.” Sukuna says your name, but you shake your head. 

Then, you’re alone. You’re alone in a dumb, and hot laundry room. The music pounding in your head, with your clothing damp in your hands. Your feet are in pain from wearing heels, and your body is sweaty and littered with marks. You feel… used. 

You sit down on the floor, your eyes blurring with wet tears. 

—

Sukuna is… he doesn’t know what he’s feeling. He’s just sitting in his car, leaning back on the headrest, and waiting for you to come back. He feels like he’s fucked up, but at the same time–fuck, he doesn’t know how he feels. 

However, Sukuna knows one thing for certain, he feels like shit, and his body is riddled with anxiety. It’s been such a long time since he’s felt like this–well, he’s feeling a lot of things right now, but those are the only things he can pinpoint. 

Sukuna flinches when the door pops open, you name almost slipping your mouth, only for Uraume to make a questionable face at him. “Sukuna? Weren’t you here with a girl?” They look in the back seat, “Where is she?”

Sukuna cringes, “Uh, getting changed in the laundry room.” He looks away from Uraume, hands on the wheel. 

“You left her–” Uraume pauses, narrowing their eyes at Sukuna, “Why do you look like that?” 

Sukuna furrows his eyebrows, “Like what?”

“Like shit, Sukuna, like shit.” Uraume says with an emotionless face, they close their eyes leaning back for a moment, “I swear… What did you do to her? She seems nice, too.” They sigh, pouting slightly, “Why would you do that to the girl you like, Sukuna?” 

“What?” 

Uraume smiles, leaning on the door, “What?” They tilt their head to the side, giving Sukuna a smug look, “You’re telling me you don’t like her? I thought that’s why you introduced me to her?” 

Sukuna looks to the house, “I–” He sighs, trying to phrase his words, he has so much to say, but he has no clue on how to say it. “Uraume, I think, I–”

“Excuse me.” You softly say. 

Uraume blinks a few times, taking a step back. They bow their head for a moment, “Apologies.” They hold the door open with you, their face emotionless, a stark contrast to when you first met them, “I hope to see you again.” 

You just nod, clicking your seatbelt on. 

Uraume passes Sukuna a knowing look, before allowing him to pull out of the driveway. Passing the two of you a final wave. Which isn’t returned by any of you. 

You shiver, hugging yourself as you lean on Sukuna’s car door. You feel bad about wetting Sukuna’s seats, but you don’t have anything to cover them, and it wasn’t your fault Mahito decided to be an asshole. 

And, it isn’t your fault Sukuna is an asshole. 

You feel the heater turn on, the cold air hitting you first, before slowly turning warm. It feels nice. You can hear Sukuna adjust himself in his seating, before you shake your head, “Don’t say anything to me.” Telling him that makes you feel absolutely terrible. 

Sukuna opened up to you, spent time with you, and fixed his terrible temper–just a bit–because you told him too. It’s endearing, you’ve seen a glimpse into his mind, and a reason behind his actions or why he is the way he is. 

But, it still hurts. It hurts so fucking much. It hurts even more when Sukuna calls your name once the two of you arrive home. Yet, you ignore him in favor of returning to your room. 

You stay quiet. 

Next Chapter: Ch. 5 - "Good Guy."

Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l

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Yandere! Incel! Scaramouche x NB! Reader

This is an 18+ blog!!!! If you don’t like yandere content or are a minor, do not interact. thank you!

CW: Yandere content, stalking, creepy scaramouche, incel behavior, creepy behavior, toxic relationships, kidnapping, his friends encourage and enable his problematic behavior, brief fantasizing about a domestic husband/spouse dynamic, forced romantic relationship, non-consensual touching

*also just to be clear, this is loosely based off the term “incel,” his behavior is more like a creepy recluse if anything?? I just couldn’t think of a better word to use and I thought it fit okay. there’s no misogyny or extremely gross behavior involved, but he is creepy so just. keep that in mind. anyways, enjoy!

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Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t get out much not because he has bad social skills (he does but that’s not the point), but because he loathes the idea of big crowds and being around lots of people. Socializing with people is already irritating enough, since he’s the only one on this earth who seems to have braincells. Why go out when he’s got everything he needs at home?

Incel! Scaramouche who has more money than he knows what to do with from his (insanely) loaded and emotionally distant mother (who gives it to him because she doesn’t know how to show affection any other way). he spends it all on expensive gaming set ups, take-out, and new technology all while being up in his top floor penthouse with a horizon line view.

Incel! Scaramouche who has friends, they’re just all online (and just as fucked up as he is) who he talks to (yells at) through the microphone while gaming.

Incel! Scaramouche who meets you while doing something mudane. He sees you at a grocery store picking over vegetables one day. Ignores you. 30 minutes later, he proceeds to bump into you and then acts like an asshole about you touching him, something that was clearly his fault. The two of you get into it, and eventually you’re the one to turn and walk away, already in a bad mood from the interaction. He’s interested now.

Incel! Scaramouche who isn’t delusional enough to convince himself that it’s fate, but who is curious enough to stalk follow you around for a while. He’s not hurting you or talking to you, what’s the harm done?

Incel! Scaramouche who while stalking monitoring you begins to note things about you. Unconsciously, of course. It’s not like his life revolves around you or anything. He just…starts to notice things. How you spend your days, what you like, what you don’t like, who you interact with and the places that you spend your time at the most. Soon enough he knows just as much about you habits and daily life as your friends do, if not more.

Incel! Scaramouche whos friends encourage his problematic behavior. They’re just as chronically online as he is, and have no conception of the morals and boundaries that come with having a healthy relationship. (Some of them, like Venti and Kazuha, even have a more romantic view of his infatuation interest, repeating that it’s okay to cross some lines, as long as it’s for love)

Incel! Scaramouche who has a weird view of relationships because his only knowledge on them comes from anime, the internet, and all the other types of weird media he consumes. (Should the kidnapping happen before or after your first date?) He’s not doing any of the cheesy shit the internet says. He’s not going to bring flowers, that would be stupid. (He’ll end up buying an overly large bouquet which he sends to your doorstep. there’s no note and you find it extremely creepy. You refuse to leave your home without pepper spray now)

Incel! Scaramouche who eventually just plucks you from the streets, right outside of your home/apartment building. No struggle to go along with it. Obviously you do fight back, but the men he hired to pick you up are far too experienced for you to even have a chance of running away.

Incel! Scaramouche who doesn’t really care about your feelings surrounding the whole situation. and well. he was getting a little lonely. most of his friends live too far away for them to meet up frequently, and it’s not like he’d want to see those crazy bastards everyday anyways. You’re much better company compared to those psychos, as much as he loathes to admit it. and you’re just so…pretty, and he can feel and touch you as much as he wants. it’s pleasant, and his apartment has never felt so full before, not at all empty like it did before he brought you here. you should be grateful you’re here too; he gives you everything you could ever want (within reason). really, you should feel grateful that you’ve been chosen by someone who’s so financially stable, who can provide for you.

you can have a good life with him, better than you could’ve had without him.

Incel! Scaramouche who kind of begins to see you as his little house spouse. nevermind that you’re here against your will; you’ve taken up doing chores around the house if only to fill the time, and it’s really only confirming his belief that kidnapping you was the best thing he could’ve done. when he comes through the door after a rare visit to the outside world and he sees you sitting there, idle, practically waiting for him? he feels like the typical breadwinner coming home to a loving domestic life. he’s not so delusional to think that you’re happy to be his little house spouse and captive, but it’s not like you can do anything about it, so he might as well enjoy the thought while he can.

[eveningepiphany]

hotel room | H.S

summary: harry & Y/N are friends but it’s a love hate relationship with so much tension you can hardly breathe. this tension isn’t any better when they get stuck in a hotel room together for the night. and it only has one bed.

warnings: SMUT! hand job (f+m receiving), PIV unprotected, sloppy morning sex, teasing, swearing, praise, friends to lovers.

A/N:I have opened my requests! and I’d love to write some from you guys, so send them in here <3

———

“So there’s only… definitely only one room for us?” I say slowly, and the lady behind the counter nods.

“Y/N,” Harry says, “we’ve shared a room before—“

“I’m so sorry the inconvenience— Since the multitude of delayed flights from the storm we’ve had an unexpected influx of last-minute bookings…” her hands are zipping along the keyboard as she is clearly under the pump.

“You’ve been booked under a single room.” She glances up, face turned up apologetically, confirming.

I nod, knowing there’s so many other people needing somewhere to stay right now, there’s no point being picky.

It’s just one night.

Because Harry and I live in the same part of the UK, we usually catch the same planes to and from when we get short breaks from touring with the band.

So of course we flew out for our Australian leg of the tour several hours ago and got stuck at our layover destination, Abu Dhabi.

The storm rolled in quick, putting hour— even day long— delays on flights. So now people are scrambling to book hotels for the next few nights.

Luckily our management got on it as soon as we’d called them about the delay of out flight, but I suppose they only could get us the one room for two.

We get our room key and head up the elevator to the 7th floor.

When we walk into the room there is a single queen bed in the centre of it, and I glance at Harry out the corner of my eye. We are always close to one another being in the band, but never “share a bed” close.

“Don’t stress.” He says.

“I’m not stressed.” I quip.

“Yes you are, don’t try and bullshit me.”

“Harry, we’re adults it’s fine.”

“Hardly adults.” He chuckles.

I scoff at his constant digs, there is a fineline of how much Harry I can tolerate in a day and we are really pushing it.

“Well if you think that then I implore you to take the couch.” I know just by looking at the couch he’d hardly fit on it, and I’m not that much of an asshole to let that happen.

“Oooh, you’re just trying t’get the bed all to yourself? Bloody bed hog.”

I open my bag up, pulling out fresh clothes and my toiletries, “Was just providing you the options. I’m going to shower.”

“Too bad if I wanted one first.” He sighs dramatically, with a little smirk that usually indicates he’s teasing.

“Too bad indeed.” I smile sarcastically at him as I shut the door.

It’s so nice to wash away the gross feeling that sticks to your skin after long flights like we just had.

When I come out of the bathroom he’s laying in the bed, crisp white doona pulled back.

“Dude you’re getting airport germs in the bed.”

He glances up from his phone, eyeing me for a split second— I’m just in sleep shorts and a plain tshirt.

“It’s fine, I’ll just have this side.” He replies, a smile breaking out over his face.

He leaves me no room to respond as he stands up, “im gonna have a shower as well, and then we can order room service, how’s that sound?”

I nod, “I’ll get the menu and have a read through.”

It’s weird how we one minute can’t stop sarcastically niggling and the next we’re back to being normal friends.

I browse through their relatively large menu as the shower runs in the background. If I strain, I can hear Harry gently humming.

I’m happy to see my favourite foods on there… and heaps of deserts.

He comes out shortly after while I’m still reading the menu, and he’s clad in only grey sweatpants, adorning damp hair.

I choose to tear my eyes away from his bare chest, “I’ve figured out what I want to get, have a read through.”

I chucked him the menu and he comes to sit down next to me on the bed.

Im surprised we don’t end up in another debate about the sleeping arrangements, but I think we’re both so exhausted from the flight. The 8 hour plane trip settling deep into our bones.

“They have y’favourite.” He says with a smile playing on his lips.

“Yea, I’m so glad. It’s all I’m craving right now.”

“What are you gonna get?” I lean to look over his shoulder at the menu.

“Maybe I’ll try their tacos?”

“I’m gonna order some of the desert stuff too.”

“Y’gonna be so full.” He laughs.

“It’ll be worth it.” I say, as I stand up to go over to the phone on the desk in the corner of the room.

I ring up and order an unnecessary amount of stuff before giving them our room number and hoping back into bed.

It’s so cozy, and if it weren’t for the food I knew was coming, I’d probably curl up and fall asleep straight away.

We lay together, talking about the plan for the next few days until the food gets delivered with a knock on the door.

I get up to open it, taking the trays of food from the kind waiter.

He groans, “God it smells good.”

We both spread the dishes of food on the bed and quickly start eating.

The TV starts playing reruns of friends, the episode where Ross makes the paste with his leather pants, trying to get them up.

We’re both tearing up with laughter, stuffing our faces with our first proper meal since dinner on the plane over 5 hours ago.

“Holy shit.” He says, and we’re are letting out fits of giggles, as Ross says “—and the lotion and the powder have made a paste…”

“I swear— why did he listen to joey.” I scoff, shoving a bite of food into my mouth.

“No, because the way it just keeps getting worse.” He buries his face into his hands with a pained grin.

We watch a few of the episodes that were playing, sharing the last of the chocolate cookies that I’d ordered.

I stood up to move all the trays our food came on over to the small kitchen bench, leaving them for the morning.

“That was so yum.” I sigh out, content and full.

I go into the bathroom to brush my teeth and finish up my night routine, ready to honestly just go to sleep.

I come out with a small smile on my lips, excited to get back into bed where it’s cozy. Slipping back under the crisp white sheets, Harry turns off the TV.

The room is now dark, “fuck… can’t see now— I gotta brush m’teeth as well.”

“Have my phone.” I chuck it in his general direction, and clonk him straight in the side.

“Ouch.” He huffs, grabbing it and turning the flash on.

He pads over to the bathroom while I roll my eyes at how dramatic he is.

He turns the lights on in there, coming back over to give me my phone now that he can see.

I text a few of my immediate family members to let them know we’d settled into our hotel, choosing to leave out the fact we’re sharing a bed.

I mean assuming that’s what the plan is. I highly doubt he wants to sleep on the couch.

Being the only female in a band of boys leads to lots of assumptions throughout my family unit. Especially with Harry.

They mistake our arguments as ‘pent-up sexual frustration’. Which is far from how I like to think of it.

He steps out from the bathroom, and I turn my torch on so he can flick the light off.

He scrapes a hand over his face, looking to me with tired eyes.

The hotel was relatively quiet now, only a few drunken laughs echoing down the hallway as it nears 12am.

He climbs back into the bed, pulling the covers over himself.

I tug my pillow down a bit before turning off my flash.

“Y’tired?” He asks quietly, sounding already kind of groggy.

I hum in agreement, rolling to face him. It’s quiet a few beats.

I can just make out his outline next to me,

I can feel the warmth of his body from where I’m laying. And it feels like I’m being enveloped by it in a strange— yet lovely way.

The thought floats around in my head, images conjuring from the darkness.

I blame this on the 8 hour flight and sleep deprivation.

Usually I can ignore it, but as much as he’s a proper pain in the ass sometimes, I’d have to be visually impaired to say he wasn’t good looking.

And hell he’s laying in the same bed as me without a shirt on.

“Y’staring at me.” He chuckles softly, and I startle a little.

“How can you even see me?” I ask, amused.

“I can’t, can just feel it.”

“As if you can feel it.” I scoff, “I’ll roll over if my eyes being on you makes you too uncomfortable.”

“No, no, wait come back.” He whines as I start to move.

I huff out a laugh, and roll back over to him.

I keep my eyes shut, “better?”

He whispers a yes, and I smile.

I keep that very smile as I drift off, listening to Harry’s slow breathes from beside me, allowing them to lull me to sleep.

———

I can only half remember waking up.

I was warm, heavy, and I felt his body before I saw it.

My eyes had only opened a tiny bit—there was light creeping through the thin curtains, making his unruly hair just visible.

My leg was thrown over his hip, and I was pressed right into his chest. We were fully intertwined, and fuck did it feel nice.

I close my eyes again, I can feel his morning wood. My heart jumps a little in my chest. Maybe I can just roll over— pretend I didn’t feel it, and go back to sleep.

I carefully strain to make the movement, but I instead get pulled closer to him.

He pushes himself against me, a sigh slipping from his nose, and I realise moving may have been a bad idea.

“Fuck…” I hear him mutter against my hair, bucking his hips up again.

“Harry.” I say, voice croaky with sleep. Of course this does nothing.

I have no idea how awake he is, I’m not even fully awake yet. But Jesus, this feels better than it should.

I feel like a horrific person for enjoying the way his clothed-length is pressed into me. But by god I am not strong enough to remove myself from this situation.

“Harry, wake up.” I groaned, squirming a little in his grasp.

He seems to come to it, just enough to realise whatever the fuck is happening in a couple seconds.

“Y/N…? Fuck. what is—“ I feel his body tense underneath me as it hits him, and he probably feels his boner pressed between my legs.

His hand flys up to my thigh that’s resting on his hip, “Holy shit—“

“It’s fine, H.” I whisper, and I’m not really sure why I say that, or what I’m implying by doing so.

Or what it means paired with the fact I haven’t protested to his dick practically grinding against my cunt.

“What do you mean?” He asks, groggily.

“Not sure.” I confess, whimpering a little as he still is hard underneath me. I push into him a bit out of unspoken desire and I hear him swallow.

He doesn’t say anything as he slides his hand up my leg, cupping it on my ass.

I glance up to see his face, his eyes still half-lidded, and his cheeks have a gentle flush to them.

I feel myself getting wetter as he keeps rubbing himself along my thin sleep shorts.

He moans a bit, and I slip my hand between us to palm his cock through his sweatpants.

“This ok? Want me to help you out a bit?”

“God— yes please…” he groans.

I push it underneath his waistband, tugging him out.

He’s heavy and hot in my hand. Glancing down, its bigger than I expected. The tip is flush and red, glistening with the damp beads of precum. Hardly surprising he’s got such a pretty cock.

“Fuckin’ Christ— look at y’little hand wrapped ‘round me.” He swears.

I slowly squeeze the head of it, and that quickly has him bucking into my palm.

His own hand travels between my sleep shorts, “Mind i return the favour?”

I hum in agreement, but he doesn’t do anything, “Gotta hear you say it, tell me what you want.”

I roll my eyes, of course he’s like this in bed, wants to hear how bad I want him.

“What do you want me to say to you Harry? How bad I want your fingers in my wet cunt right now, or how I want you to fuck my clit with your tongue?”

“Want my tongue do you? Because yes that’s exactly what I’d like to hear.” He says, smirking as he dips his hand under my shorts, running his fingers through me.

“No panties… been next to me all night with your pussy so easily accessible. Such a little slut.”

He collects my arousal, carrying it up to my swollen clit. I moan with the action, trying to keep my hand pumping rhythmically.

This proves to be a challenge, as he’s very clearly skilled with his fingers.

“Fuck, you’re so wet. Hardly even touched you.”

“Been grinding your dick into me for a bit, actually.” I hiss as he slips a finger into me.

“Sorry, Baby. Did my hard cock get you all worked up?” He teases, and I hate the fact that he’s right.

I give a particularly hard squeeze and he grunts, “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He quickens the pace of his fingers, fucking them in and out of me.

“Hard to hate me when I’m making you feel so good, hm?” He kisses my forehead, curling his fingers in me.

I cry out. Fuck— I was going to come.

“Wait, wait, wait— don’t wanna come yet, please…” I clench my thighs around his hand and it stills.

I look up at him, his green eyes burning with desire.

He doesn’t say anything, just leans his head down and places a wet kiss on my lips.

He keeps his fingers pumping slowly in and out of me as we start to kiss.

He brings me close to coming again a few times, just to tease me, but he keeps his focus on my lips— pulling my bottom one between his and sucking on it.

It’s messy and sloppy, edges of it blurred from the morning haze still over us.

“Harry.” I say into his mouth, legs shaking a little.

“Want you in me.” It comes out of me as an unbridled thought.

“Jesus…” he murmurs, stunned by hearing the words fly out of me so openly.

He pulls his lips away, cock twitching in my hand, “you want…”

“You want me to fuck you?”

I nod, grabbing the hem of my shirt and slipping it off.

He’s enamoured by me, it’s clear in his eyes.

He reaches his hand up, out of my sleep shorts and he cups my breast with it gently.

He moves his mouth down to place gentle kissed over them.

“You’re perfect, yknow that?” He says against my skin, tugging me closer to him as I smile at the flattery.

“I’m on birth control too.” I state.

He glances up, and it appears I’ve shocked him yet again, “you wanna take me raw?”

I haven’t gone without I condom in ages… but I trust him.

“We’re both clean, right? I trust you.”

He smiles, “I’m clean. As long as your sure.”

I don’t think I’ve ever been surer of something.

He pulls my sleep shorts off, and I help shuck his sweats the rest of the way down his legs.

We’re warm between the sheets, and he’s peppering open-mouthed kisses along my neck as he lines himself up with me.

He locks eyes with me as he pushes in, and both of us moan at the feeling.

“Fuck— you’re tight.” He squeezes his hands on my hips.

I am blinded with the pleasure of him filling me up, I can’t even think about how bad an idea this could be.

“Feels so good, H.” I groan, scraping my nails along his chest.

“Can feel you clenching around me.” He reaches a hand down to play with my clit.

He’s gonna make me come embarrassingly quick— especially considering he sort of edged me a bit while we were kissing.

He was thrusting into me, a perfect pace to have me squirming in his arms.

I can tell he’s getting close, my name flying out his mouth paired with vulgar words and moans.

“I- fuck- I’m not gonna be able to drag this out if you keeping squeezing m’cock like that.” He pants.

“I’m close, so just come with me.” I plead, the thought of him finishing with me adding fuel to the fire in the pit of my stomach.

“God H, I’m gonna come— hard.”

“Fuck, sweetheart, keep talking.” He says, his skin slapping into mine, chasing his orgasm.

“You’re so pretty.” I blurt, spewing the first thing that comes to mind as I look at him.

He really is, his hair is tousled from sleep and my hands, his eyes half lidded from pleasure and tattooed chest slightly damp.

He swears, bottoming out and coming hard without warning. His hand circles my clit fast, bringing my crashing down with him.

“Harry!” I cry, burying my head into the crook of his neck as I ride out the waves of pleasure.

“Good girl, Y/N.” He groans, still thrusting into me trying to prolong his orgasms.

The high slowly ebbs away, and he stays in me for a bit. Nothing but the sounds of our laboured breathing filling the room.

I think we don’t know what to say, after something like that happens— when it all comes on instinct and you’re without any clue on what it changes.

Our dynamic, though it was a love-hate kind of thing, it was a consistent one. You knew what to expect. Now that this has happened…

“I have no idea what you’re thinking right now.” He whispers, “and that kind of scares me.”

I lay quietly for a few heartbeats, “just… that was really good. And I’m not 100% prepared for what might happen after this, y’know. To us I guess.”

“Well. To keep it simple, I really like you— and that was some of the best sex I’ve ever had so…” he trails off, unsure where to go with the sentence.

“Ok— so this isn’t gonna ruin our friendship?” I sigh in a bit of relief.

“Of course not,” he pulls back to look at me, and a smile spreads across his face, “after all, we are adults.”

———