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mggslover · 3 days ago

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Reflections

In which Spencer sees himself in a suspect, making him willing to do anything to protect her. Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader Genre: crime x angst? x fluff? Content warnings: post prisoner!spencer (but no spoilers bc i'm still on s11 lol, so sorry for inaccuracies), one time mention of suicide and rape (no details), fade to black smut so suggestive content Word count: 3,8k A/n: my own entry for #lovers1kevent ! bit different from what i usually write. didn't exactly turn out like how i had envisioned it, but i'm still very curious to hear your thoughts!

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise. I see my reflection in your eyes.” The sound of a clock striking midnight made you jump in your seat, the plastic stool screeching loudly against the cold, concrete floor. The interrogation room was filled with nothing but the rhythmic ticking of the clock and the pounding of your heartbeat. Everything in this room felt eerie: a harsh light shone down on you, irritating your eyes, and there was no escaping your reflection in the two-way mirror in front of you. You observed yourself through the glass, and to put it simply, you looked awful. The dress you were wearing was crumpled as it hung loosely on your frame, the dark circles under your eyes were noticeable from a distance, and your eyes themselves expressed no spark. They looked dimmed, with no emotion behind the colored irises. Though, that had been so for a while now.

The creak of the door jolted you out of your thoughts. You turned your head, feeling disappointment when the same agent as before walked in. He wasn’t hard on the eyes: dark skin, rolled-up sleeves that showed his muscular forearms, a neatly trimmed goatee covering his sharp jaw, and eyes that looked just as cutting as they darted over you. Maybe, in another life, you would’ve considered dating him. In a life where he didn’t suspect you of killing three men.

He stayed quiet as he made his way over to you, taking a seat at the opposite side of the table. He placed a folder in front of him, shoving it toward you. “Still not going to talk?”

You cleared your throat. Nevertheless, the words came out hoarse. “I have nothing to say.”

He rolled his eyes in annoyance before crossing his arms. “Do I need to remind you of your rights? You can contact a lawyer, or we can get you one.”

“I also have the right to remain silent.”

A small huff escaped his lips, and you noticed the way he clenched his fingers, as though trying to hold himself back from making a comment he’d regret.

His eyes landed back on you, glaring. “A girl like you won’t survive in prison.”

“Well, then it’s good that I’m not going to prison,” you snapped back with a small smile. You weren’t going to let him intimidate you. You didn’t do anything wrong, yet here you were.

“I’d lose the attitude if I were you because it’s not looking good.”

Before you could open your mouth to respond, he cut you off. “Open the folder.”

You inhaled deeply before obeying. You hated the way you couldn’t help the nerves from creeping in. Your hand trembled as you opened the folder. The picture that greeted you was one of three lifeless bodies slumped over each other in an empty alley. A bitter tang formed in the back of your throat, but you ignored it, forcing yourself to look back at the agent.

“Looks familiar?”

Your eyes flicked over the image again. “What exactly are you referring to?”

“The people. Do you recognize them?”

You nodded.

“I want a clear answer,” he said, his voice raised.

“Yes,” you replied, matching his tone. “We went to college together.”

There was no way you could forget them. Unfortunately. The idea that they were wiped off the face of earth gave you a strange sense of comfort. Maybe now you could find the peace you’d been looking for. The peace she was looking for.

The agent seemed relieved to have gotten an answer out of you. “And you met up with them again today. Is that right?” he queried, nodding toward the folder.

You got the hint and pulled the first picture off the pile, revealing another underneath it. It was a selfie taken by two women. You spotted yourself in the right corner by the bar, in conversation with the three men he was referring to. His gaze stayed focused on you, trying to see if you’d reveal any emotion.

“It was our college reunion. As you can see I wasn’t the only one there,” you explained.

“Multiple witnesses have told us you were the last person seen talking to them.”

You shrugged. “Is that something significant?”

“Not necessarily so,” he answered, sitting up straighter. “What is, is that you left through the emergency exit. And what makes it even more suspicious is that you left right after the victims got their drinks served.”

You gave him a blank look.

“The victims were poisoned.”

Ah.

You offered him a tight smile. “I think that’s something you need to bother the bartender about.”

“We checked him out already. The only person we can connect to this case is you.”

A silence followed. It truly didn’t seem like you’d be leaving anytime soon. You rubbed your hands down on the material of your dress, gathering courage.

“It’s an unfortunate coincidence. Like I told you, I had nothing to do with it. I don’t want anything to do with them,” you clarified, the disdain evident on your tongue.

The agent turned his head around, looking at the two-way mirror. The thought of other agents standing behind that wall, all analyzing you full of judgement, made your skin crawl.

“Seems like you’re not too fond of the men.”

You scoffed, “No one is.”

“What about Natalie Fisher?” he wondered aloud. “She seemed close to you. We found multiple pictures dating back to high school.”

Like a gust of wind, the memories came back to you. How you found Natalie standing in front of your college dorm room, smiling brightly as she introduced herself as your roommate. You instantly hit it off: sharing the same humor, the same passions. Only a year younger than you, but a carbon copy. From that day on you were inseparable.

It all came back to that one night — that one time you bailed on her, deciding studying for an upcoming exam was more important than joining her at a frat party. It was only when she called you awake in the middle of the night, her voice shaking as her words tripped over her tongue, telling you she didn’t know where she was and how she woke up in an empty alley, possibly drugged and with her clothes torn — that you knew you made the biggest mistake in your life.

You shook the thoughts away. Pursing your lips as you shrugged. “She was. I don’t know why you’re bringing her up.”

“Her report says she died two years ago from suicide. Or did you kill her as well?”

It felt like he’d knocked the breath out of you. You made a choking sound somewhere between a laugh and a cry. “You’re sick,” you spat in disbelief.

“I’m sick?” He chuckled sarcastically. “You’re the one who murdered those people.”

“I didn’t murder anyone!”

The sound of your yelling reverberated off the concrete walls, the echo scaring you. You squeezed your eyes shut, holding back tears as you bit your tongue. There goes your attempt at staying calm. He was playing games with your mind. You knew this was all a trick — a way to get you to admit to the crimes he was naming. And it drove you crazy that it was having an effect.

“I’m not talking to you anymore,” you muttered.

-`♡´-

Spencer couldn’t tear his eyes away from you as he looked through the glass. You’d been sitting there for three hours, forty-three minutes, and twenty-six seconds, counting. He didn’t know what it was about you that made it impossible to look away. Hotch had told him to go home. Hotch was certain that they got the right unsub, and he assured him that you’d confess at some point. But he couldn’t get himself to move. To turn his head even. All he felt was a nagging guilt as he watched you being questioned by Morgan. It was a different experience to see an interrogation when he’s been in one himself. He now understood what it was like. How pressuring their questions can be, how the weight of a sentence is crushed on your shoulders, and how they keep pushing you to the point where you even start doubting your own truth.

All he could think of when he saw you was innocence. A soft, radiant white light surrounded you. You were bright even against the harshness of the room. There was no rational way to explain how he felt, only that he sensed the deepest desire to keep you safe from everything that could hurt you.

“She’s working on my nerves,” Morgan exclaimed, tension visible in his shoulders as he stomped out of the interrogation room.

“We can’t stop,” Hotch stated. “We haven’t gotten an answer out of her yet.”

Morgan let out a deep huff. “It’s clear that she did it.”

Spencer's focus was back on you. Since he’s been to prison he’s been more aligned with his feelings. His heart overpowering his mind at times.

“She’s not our unsub,” Spencer spoke up, surprising even himself with the firmness of his voice.

Everyone looked at him expectantly, waiting for the genius revelation he always had. But the room stayed silent.

Hotch eyed him, “What makes you say that?”

“I just know.” Spencer replied, not caring to elaborate further. He nudged Derek aside and headed for the door. “I’ll take it from here.”

He pulled the heavy metal door open, at once met with your doe eyes as you faced him. For the first time tonight, you didn’t flinch when someone entered.

Spencer had to swallow. His gaze momentarily dropped to the floor, feeling overwhelmed by how beautiful you looked up close. You seemed tired, cold, yet somehow angelic.

His eyes never left yours as he made his way over to you. You held his gaze, observing him with the same intensity as he was. He carried a calm, magnetic presence, which made you feel an unexplainable urge to get closer to him.

“Are you cold?” he eventually asked, his voice gentle and considerate.

You blinked at his question, clearly not expecting it. You remembered how you were only wearing a light dress, noticing the goosebumps that had formed on your bare legs. Inevitably, you nodded.

He surprised you again by taking off his suit jacket and draping it over your shoulders. The fabric felt heavy, enveloping you like a warm blanket.

“Thank you,” you silently mumbled, noticing a small dimple appear in his cheek.

He sat down in front of you, resting his arms on the table between you, as though compelled to get as close as possible. The moment felt intimate, your eyes locked on his tender brown ones, making the world fade around you. “I believe you.”

For a moment, you just stared at him, a frown formed on your face as you realized he wasn’t about to say more. “What?”

“I believe you,” he repeated in the same composed manner. He leaned forward even further, and it was then that you noticed you had subconsciously mirrored his movement, drawn to him like a magnetic pull.

“They suspect you, but I don’t.”

He didn’t need to rephrase his words for you to understand who he meant by them. You could almost feel the other agents’ glaring stares pressing down on you through the glass.

“Try to forget about them,” he reminded you, as if reading your thoughts. You didn’t look up to face him, instead your focus was on the proximity of your hands on the table, his finger just inches away from touching yours. Spencer noticed the look in your eyes, and moved his little finger just enough to brush against yours.

An electric shock coursed through you. Simultaneously, both of you shuddered, stunned as you saw the other wearing the same stupefied expression. Sure, it could’ve been a static shock, but something told you it was more than that. And by the look of the curly haired agent, he felt the same.

“Why don’t you?” you asked, returning to the subject. “Suspect me, I mean.”

Spencer hesitated for a moment, searching for the right words. “Because I know what it’s like to be in a situation like you are.” He saw the confusion written on your face, continuing his explanation. “There’s something about being in a room like this — being treated like you’re guilty before you even speak — that makes you start questioning your own truth.”

Questions flooded your mind, but you chose not to press further. You had someone who believed you, you weren’t going to ruin that opportunity by being too curious.

“So, what now?” your voice sounded more sure, hopeful even.

“Usually, we ask people if they’re willing to take a polygraph exam,” he explained. “It can also be referred to as a lie detector test, even though that term is often used incorrectly. A professional will ask a series of questions, and as you answer, the device will measure multiple psychological indicators which are associated with lying, like your blood pressure and pulse. I know it can sound scary, but in cases like these — when there’s no clear evidence — it might be the only thing keeping you from going to prison.”

His words hit you hard, though the gleam in his eyes remained soft. You inhaled deeply before nodding. “I’ll do it.”

-`♡´-

“She’s telling the truth.”

You hadn’t known pure relief until now. Your eyes closed, trying to stop the flood of emotions from flowing in when the pressure cuffs and sensors were being removed from your arms and hands. You didn’t know whether to cry or to cheer, but when you opened your eyes and saw Spencer — who had introduced himself as Dr. Reid, smiling at you, you were sure everything would turn out okay.

“Impossible,” the agent who questioned you earlier huffed under his breath.

The chief who had introduced himself as Aaron Hotchner walked up to you. “For now you’re free to go. However, this case isn’t closed yet. You’ll remain our primary suspect until we find more proof.”

The sharpness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. You kept quiet as he and the other agents left the room, leaving you alone with Dr. Reid.

He closed the distance between you two, standing near enough that he could see all the details on your face. He fought the urge to tuck the loose strings of hair behind your ear, to hold you and tell you that you were okay.

“You did really well,” he said with a soft smile. “Your heartbeat stayed on an average of 70 beats per minute, only going up to 86 once, which is still in the normal range.”

“Did you peek at the monitor?” you jokingly teased.

“I- uh, no. I just counted.” Spencer shyly admitted, earning a playful grin from you. You took his hand in yours, his palm slightly sweaty, as if he was nervous about the outcome too. Then you placed his hand on your chest, right where your heart was. “What about now? Higher than average?”

He swallowed, a blush creeping up his neck. “95 beats per minute.”

The tension between you was palpable, though his touch felt comforting. Your hand was placed over his, and you could both feel the way your heartbeat steadily decreased as you brushed your fingers soothingly over his.

“Can I drive you home?” Spencer offered.

You bit your lip in an effort to hide your grin, but then the corners of your mouth slightly dropped. “I don’t really have a place to stay.”

His brows lifted in surprise, but an empathetic twinkle appeared in his bambi eyes. “You could stay at my place.”

Spencer wasn’t sure why the words came out, but he meant them. He could practically hear the voices of his team telling him to not get involved with someone on a case, let alone a potential suspect. But it wasn’t like he was the first person to do so. And he wouldn’t waste the opportunity of getting closer to you. Maybe if he could get to know you better, if he could make you comfortable enough to open up to him, he could prove to everyone that you were innocent. Because deep down, he knew you were.

-`♡´-

“Hey, hey, hey! What are you doing, man?” Morgan called out, rushing after Spencer, who had just entered the bullpen to grab his satchel bag before heading out with you.

“Hotch told me I could go home,” he hastily replied, stuffing his papers into his bag.

“Yeah, two hours ago. Before you decided to flirt with a suspect,” he exclaimed in frustration.

“I didn’t flirt with her,” Spencer recounted under his breath.

Morgan let out a dry laugh. “Everyone saw what went on in that room, Reid,” he shook his head in disbelief. “I would’ve least expected this from someone like you.”

“Someone like me doesn’t exist anymore, Derek,” Spencer snapped, a sharp edge to his voice. “I’m not who I was before prison, and neither will I ever be that person again. However, I can help her from turning into someone like me. So, if you don’t mind, I am leaving now.”

He left Morgan at a loss of words as he walked off. You were waiting on him; your posture stiffened as you wrapped his jacket closer around you. Gently, Spencer threaded his fingers through yours and guided you to the elevator.

Once inside, Spencer pressed the button to the ground floor, then leaned his head back to the wall, letting out a fatigued sigh.

“I am sorry for causing you trouble,” you apologized, nervously picking at the fabric of his jacket that hung loosely over your arms.

His gaze softened, and he shook his head before he reached out to hold your hand once more. It was ironic how he longed for your grounding touch. “You’re not causing me any trouble. I’m sorry for the way they’re treating you. It’s our job to be cautious, to not easily trust someone.”

You squeezed his hand. “But you trust me,” you stated, though it came out more as a question, waiting for confirmation.

His other hand lifted up to touch your cheek, and his heart warmed at how you instinctively leaned into his touch. “I do.”

You looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “Can you prove it to me?”

He responded with a soft chuckle, reaching up to cup your face in his large palms. You rose to your tiptoes, leaning in until his sweet lips found yours.

-`♡´-

Spencer had expected to spend the ride home talking to you. Instead, you spent the entire ride trying to resist the urge to climb on top of each other. Once he tasted your lips, he couldn’t get enough, and neither could you.

Your giggle sounded through the dimly lit halls of his apartment complex as he dragged you up the stairs.

“Hurry,” you impatiently chuckled as he struggled to find his keys in his bag. He joined your giddy laughter as you entered the apartment. The second he shut the door close, he gently pressed you against the wall, his lips finding yours again. You let out a satisfied hum, your fingers sliding into the soft curls of his hair, tugging on it as he bit down on your bottom lip.

“Wait—one second,” he murmured.

“No,” you pouted, capturing his lips.

He kissed you back—then again, and again—before finally pulling away. “I just need to put my gun away.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, pressing one last kiss to his lips. “Just make it quick.”

He gave you a big grin and walked to the cupboard, where his safe was hidden behind his jackets and a row of spare shoes. It felt strange to have someone in his apartment. Strange to be smiling so brightly, to feel so much, after the emptiness prison has brought him. But strange didn’t mean bad. It felt new. And new could be good. You could be good.

His fingers pressed down on the familiar buttons: 62383. With a soft click, the lock opened; he took his gun from its holster on his pants and safely put it away.

When he turned back, he saw you leaning against the wall, a sweet expression on your face as you awaited him. He strode toward you, immediately pulling you in and kissing you fiercely.

Spencer was aware of his actions. Aware that he shouldn’t be doing what he was about to do with you. But as his hand made contact with the warm skin of your inner thighs, and as your sweet sounds filled the air, he chose to simply not care.

-`♡´-

The next morning you woke up with messy curls tingling against your face. You chuckled as Spencer lay asleep with his head resting on your chest. Your fingers ached with the urge to graze them through his hair, to press a soft kiss to the top of his head. Instead, you held your breath as you climbed from underneath him.

The golden sun shone brightly through the curtains, illuminating your surroundings. You tiptoed through the room, gathering the items of clothes one by one, until you were fully dressed.

Wearing yesterday’s dress sent a shiver through your body, being reminded of the long hours spent in that bleak interrogation room.

You mumbled a sorry, before opening his closet and fishing a T-shirt out of it, a blue one with a faded Caltech logo, barely visible. You ignored the thoughts forming in your head, the itch to want to know more about the man who was still sleeping soundlessly in the bed that you shared.

Once you found yourself a suitable pair of pants, Spencer started groaning from the other side of the room. You turned around, catching his hand patting down the empty space beside him, as if in search of the heat of your body. It felt irresistible to not check up on him. You slowly made your way to his side of the bed, crouching down and lightly stroking his face. His eyes blinked open, and the way he smiled made your heart churn.

“I need to go,” you softly whispered to him.

His smile faltered. “Where to?” He sat up straighter on the bed, but you gently pushed him back down.

“Will I see you again?” Spencer asked when you didn’t respond.

Your lips curled in a smile, “I’m sure you will.”

And sure you were, because as soon as you left the bedroom, you were headed to the cupboard, pushing aside the jackets that hung on the hooks, until your eyes landed on the shining steel safe.

62383.

The lock sprung open, and in a swift motion you took the gun and hid it in the bottom of your purse. I will be seeing you again, Spencer. Just under different circumstances.

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jjk4isen · 5 months ago

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ꗃ 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐍𝐎𝐖.

❝ you're not a curse, you have never been. you were my blessing and my salvation– the best thing that has ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved. ❞

summary: when your entire village faced the king of curses' wrath, you were sure you'd be as good as food for him but life decides to weave the strings of fate and intertwine yours with the very person who tries to cut it short.

desc: 8.6k words, f!reader, sfw, angsty angst hehe, major character death, cannibalistic thoughts (sukuna is a cannibal after all), takes place in the heian era, true form sukuna, bit ooc bc we know his ass isn't capable of love, ! slightly gory parts!, this is canon bc i said so, kenjaku isn't known as kenjaku yet – he's still known as noritoshi kamo, yorozu mentioned, basically just me raw dogging the storyline during the heian era lol.

notes: this took way longer than it should but i battled like three burn out sessions to write this so lmao. also does anybody get the aot reference in the title? this might MIGHT have a part two if i can think of a good plot to mirror it. if you get the reference, you'll alr know what it's going to be titled :P

must be horrifying isn't it? being a mere human amongst sorcerers and curse users capable of destroying and killing— powerless among the powerful whose thirst for yet more power remain a bottomless pit of unquenchable desire.

in this state of the world, your life wasn't your own. it belonged to the people who were strong enough to kill you or considerate enough to spare you.

and among dangers looming throughout, one triumphs all. one whose name was even powerful enough to send curses back at just the mention of it.

ryomen sukuna. feared by curses and non curses alike. the ruthless evil entity who feeds off of humans. there is no doubt about him being the king of curses, capable of having any being in the palm of his hands.

including you.

your village faced the wrath of the king of curses himself, not a brick was intact nor a rock left unturned. and what's even worse? he didn't have any reason for his destruction. he just did it out of his sheer will.

perhaps you should consider yourself lucky to have your life spared, along with some other women and children. all the men were gone without traces — maybe for the better.

trapped in the basement of the castle’s kitchen, you await your fate to be eaten.

what was that you said before? lucky? no, you realise how horribly wrong you were. the wails and cries of terror as yet another person was dragged out of the small room was enough to ring in your ears forever.

the sudden quietness that followed soon after was enough to suffocate you.

the room was dark, wet and disgusting. it reeked of decomposed bodies and blood. nobody was fed well and even if one or two loaves of pitiful bread were thrown into the small cell, it wasn't nearly enough to feed a group of starving people.

at least the number keeps decreasing day by day.

you'd notice how the people who cried, begged or fought back were likely speeding up their deaths so you kept to yourself, waiting for your turn, even if it's just a while later.

after what you think was a couple of days came your turn. you had lost your perception of everything in this tiny suffocating room; you might as well be dead.

you heard some loud clanks of the metal door and suddenly, a harsh pull sends you essentially flying towards whoever was grabbing you.

“this is the last one” you heard a gruff voice say as a light shone inside. it felt like ages since you saw any sort of light, of warmth. in a way, you were relieved. your suffering must be finally coming to an end.

“its this one isn't it?” a low voice asks as they being a lamp closer to inspect you. your eyes were opened and after a long while, you saw again.

“why is she in such a weakly state?” the person holding the lamp grimaces at your sight. through your hazy vision, you could still make out the white hair, perfectly in place. they were beautiful.

“well that ain't my fault is it?” the big creature yanks your arm and you fall wherever it does.

suddenly shards of ice fill the room and the fire from the lamp is put out. in its place is a glowing icy caricature of the creature, holding you intact.

as terrifying as cursed techniques can be, they were also mesmerising. the beautiful fridgid sculpture leave you in awe; the rough hand holding your arm was now frozen and unmoving.

“now.” the icy person leans down, meeting your eye level, you hadn't realised the dim moonlight illuminating the ice crystals in the room “what shall we do with you?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you're concious enough to make out your surroundings, you find yourself in a small dimly lit room. it was heaven in comparision to the previous one.

you scrumble towards the small lamp and take in the warmth. you had no idea where you were, what happened or what would happen but for now, you were alive. barely, but alive still.

weakly, you sit on the floor— there isn't anywhere else to sit anyway. upon hugging your knees you notice an apparent bruse on your arm. the same place where you were grabbed, the memories come back slowly.

did the white haired person save you? could you maybe have a chance at life?

no, being in captivity by the king of curses himself tells you enough that you weren't going to make it out of here alive. well, it's not like you necessarily want to either. your home and the people in it were gone, some of whom you witnessed their end.

it's only fair for you to meet the same fate as them.

the sound of the door unlocking interrupts your thoughts, then in came the person with snow like hair.

“finish this” they hold out a tray of food and set it down next to you. you only lean away defensively.

without so much of another word, they make their way towards the door that is, until you decided to stop them.

“you saved me didn't you?” it had been a while since you even heard your own voice and you don't miss the way it sounded more resigned than it had ever been.

“do not be fooled. it is all in consideration for my master. finish the plate” with that they walk away, leaving you with even more questions than before.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

when the certain white haired person decides to show up, they look pleased with your health. well, it should come as a no surprise since they keep feeding you — overfeeding you in fact. and you know why.

fatten up the stock so that it's in top shape when it's time to consume it.

“follow me” they say, holding the door open.

obediently, you follow the person you owe your life to, for now anyway, and they lead you through alleys and stairways you had never seen before.

only sounds of footsteps and your exhausted huffs can be heard in the hallway filled with various markings on the wall. you don't even want to know what they mean.

“so… how do i call you?” you manage to ask, maybe if you try to get close to them, maybe they can help a second time.

don't kid yourself.

no reply comes and you feel heat rush to your cheeks from embarassment. but hey at least you tried.

your wandering eyes missed to see them stop before a certain door and you crash into them with a grunt. they must be well built because the impact did not faze them at all.

“sorry” you rub your nose that was sore from bumping your face into their back.

“i go by uraume. i am master sukuna's loyal servant. beyond this door is the garden and you are to take a walk twice a day to build up your stamina. i shall be checking on you daily.”

“why should i need to do that?”

“do as you are told. now go” they open the door for you.

beyond the door is a garden too beautiful to belong in the palace of such an abominable being. flowers of all kind adjourn each corner, flourishing in all their bloosoming glory.

the sky was as clear as can be, with the sun brightly shining as if it's wishing people a good day. the birds chirping and the gentle breeze that brushes through your hair reminds you of your home back in the village and your heart aches a little.

“thankyou” you turn back but uraume is now long gone.

gee must people be so cold around here?

you stroll along the garden, savoring your time outside in so long. how long has it been exactly? you couldn't recall. maybe you should ask uraume the next time they come around.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

only this time when uraume does show up, they don't lead you towards the garden. instead, you find yourself at the door of the king of curses’ throne room.

uraume doesn't say a word and only ushers you in.

is this doomsday? you recall the screams of fear from the people you used to share a home with. the look on their faces, their nails desperately clinging onto the prison bar while pleading for mercy — all of that for naught.

and the silence that followed.

it's possible that the well timed meals and the strolls you took in the beautiful garden was the mercy your people begged for but never got.

maybe you should be thankful you even got to have those.

“master is impatient. you should go in right this instant” uraume insists. something about their behaviour tells you if you don't do as told, you'd have a fate worse than what you could ever think of.

with all the courage you could muster, you unlock the door and take strides into it, as confident as you could make it seem.

the four armed monster looms in front of you, starting down at you as if you were only a mere bug.

perhaps you were — small and helpless, under the mercy of the predator who had seen you.

you bow politely, it seemed like it was the only appropriate thing to do.

sukuna thinks you're pathetic.

just a mere human and not worth his time. there was only a small reason as to why he hasn't had his way with you yet.

your flesh and blood.

to him, you smelled hauntingly sweet and hypnotisingly alluring. that was what drew him to your village in the first place — the hunt for the sweet scent that awakened all his senses, although he doesn't have any idea why.

sukuna is a curious being, he seeks to know the mysteries of the world — one of the reasons why he's so wise, adding to his strength.

so until he has his answers, he plans to keep you around. after that, he can enjoy your flesh however he wants.

just you standing mere feet away from him was enough to tempt him to bite you already. how would it feel to sink his teeth into your skin and have your blood flow down his throat? sukuna couldn't wait until he has the chance to do so.

“leave.” the monster only dismisses you after staring at you so intently, he might as well be staring deep into your soul.

you look up at him in confusion, why would he call you here without any particular reason?

“do your ears not work, human?” sukuna says, rather impatiently.

“lower your gaze and know your place, fool” he practically growls and you look away faster than the speed of light. one more bow and you're bolting out the door.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

your stay at the palace was a cycle of eating, sleeping and taking strolls. it was beginning to get monotonous, boring even. but its much better than facing the king of curses ever again.

you still had no idea why he called you to his throne room and honestly, you don't even want to find out why.

life wasn't so bad — the flowers were beautiful and smelled lovely, the meals were scrumptious and your sleep? well nightmares were inevitable but there were nights when you slept like a log.

and unbeknownst to you, a certain four eyed creature could be seen watching over you. no, observing you. its only right for him to observe his prey right?

it's not out of the goodness of his heart that when you whimper and cry out in your sleep because of a weak nightmare curse looming over your head, he kills it with only a tilt of his own. no, it's only because that curse deters your well being, hence your development to reach your full potential to be a perfect feast for him. nothing more.

weak human, you don't have the means to kill such a low grade curse or even see it. so why were you special? what makes you so different than the other filthy beings with no cursed techniques roaming the earth? sukuna still couldn't tell.

he's aware though — of your silent fear and unspoken resentment you have towards him. he's aware of your quivering soul whenever you sense his presence. he's aware of your desire to escape this place.

but he's also aware of how your smile becomes a little more genuine when you smell a particular flower in his garden. he's aware of how your eyes soften when you see the setting sun. he's aware of how you tried to get close to uraume and only get shut out. he's aware of you.

and that angers him to no end.

what infuriates him even more is how that pathetic servant thinks he can talk to you, and with such ease too. how dare he speak lowly of you? that's a direct insult to him isn't it?

‘you mean less than a concubine?’ sukuna scoffs at him for even comparing you to one.

so the next time he calls the council for a lecture, he doesn't even blink one of his four eyes when the said servant in question gets slashed by his formidable cursed technique.

the room grows thick with the smell of blood that was now splashed all over the carpets and tapestry hanging on the wall—a grueling task for the cleaners later.

“every tongue that rises against my prey shall fall.” the headless body of his once loyal servant serve as testimony to his words.

the palace may be big but rumours flew around: another servant ruthlessly executed by the monstrous beast. even the people under him weren't given an ounce of consideration.

is it a coincidence that it was the same person who cornered you just a day ago? you don't ponder.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

after the ruthless slaughter of your village and everything in it, it didn't take long for sukuna to find his next target.

it wasn't anything new to anybody at all that he was a bloodthirsty beast, revelling in chaos and ruin. one after another, his victims were crushed mindlessly and so easily, it made you sick how powerless other people are in comparison to him.

out of all his battles and countless destruction, one prominent opponent was the fujiwara clan.

they were an elite clan, taking pride in the strength of their squadrons. the world held its breath upon hearing of the battle, maybe they had the potential to rival the king of curses.

the outcome didn't change though. sukuna remained prevalent—bringing the sun, moon and stars at his feet. the five empty generals did not even measure upto him.

the battle must have been so agonising to the point where the authorities were willing to hold festivals in his honour, out of utter terror.

it was at this harvest festival where sukuna had encountered a certain shameless sorcerer who was on her way to be completely obsessed with him.

yorozu had only one goal: to alleviate sukuna's loneliness with her love — something she believed only she was capable of.

thus why she leeches onto him, much like a hick. perhaps sukuna doesn't see her as a threat or he deems her powerful enough, he didn't get rid of her, for now at least.

however, her dreams were short lived.

yorozu sits next to sukuna in his throne room, enticing him with gentle nudges of her exposed chest. her haori was united and her hair fell graciously past her shoulders all the way down her chest.

she only shrieks in horror as she stares at the uninterested man. “you look different… you are different!” she screams angrily.

sukuna only hums in response, deep in thought of how his little prey has been holding up. despite his festivities and celebrations, you were there in the back of his mind, like an itch that cannot be quite scratched.

she stares at him, stepping back further and further “it couldn't be…”

yorozu brings herself to her knees, looking up at sukuna desperately. “i have so much more to teach you about love and the ultimate strength and solitude that it brings!”

she rises, her eyes were erratic, anyone would be afraid of her outburst that was about to come. anyone but sukuna.

“im the one who will teach you about love. that is my purpose and my goal. now tell me, who is it that is taking away your loneliness?”

sukuna raises a brow. it's possibly the only time he indulges yorozu’s antics and also the last.

“i will find out who it is! it doesn't matter if i have to tear this palace apart” yorozu violently darts out the room in search of something, anything. to her, if it was powerful enough to move sukuna then she would have no trouble finding whatever it is.

and she doesn't. not because you're too powerful but rather because of the lack of it. you stuck out like a sore thumb with no cursed energy running through your body, weak and unarmed just strolling across the garden— like the pathetic human you are.

sukuna arrives at the scene, ever observing, ever thinking.

“that is not true love” yorozu mutters, her fists were clenched on her sides as her gaze burnt into you who was unknowing of the fury burning inside her.

“you're mistaken, sukuna. i will show you what real love looks like!” yorozu screams, making her way towards you who could only stare at her in fear, frozen in place.

it would take sukuna less than a blink of his eye to stop her but he was intrigued. what would he feel if you were to be killed? would he feel pain? anger? the beast always finds his answers so he waits.

and what was that about true love? does that woman think he was capable of it? with you, no less? she sees you, a mere human, as a threat so that must mean something.

yorozu lands on you, digging her nails into your skin, blood gushing out of it. sukuna admires the sight.

you scream in agony as she continue to scratch through you and into you with ease. a maniac expression forms on her face at your slowed breaths and now silent helpless whimpers.

but before you were completely gone, sukuna gets rid of her. you were too busy holding onto your life to tell how he did it but one blink was enough for her to be gone and another makes you realise you were caged in the arms of the four armed monster.

“interesting” you heard sukuna say, before your lashes flutter and your eyes close against your will.

sukuna holds your limp body in his arms protectively with calculated gentleness as if a slight jerk would hurt you. well, in your state, it would.

upon watching you get torn apart, sukuna realises he isn't as heartless as he deemed himself. it drives him angry. how could a being as weak as you would have the capability to move him? how could you inflict pain onto him when you're the one who's at his mercy? he scoffs at how ridiculous it is all.

but when his eyes land on you– your fragile body almost lifeless and bleeding, his only thought was towards your safety and not towards devouring you, albeit the sweet scent of your blood tempting him and calling out to him to drink it.

he stares at his hands tainted with the pretty crimson colour, glistening in the sun but it pales in comparison to the way your eyes were shut as if you were only asleep. sukuna sighs, alright then.

his reversed cursed technique flows through his body into your own, healing the deep tears and cuts. he only hopes you aren't too angry at him for waiting that long to step in.

your staggered breathing was replaced with slow even ones and your wounds disappeared as if they had never been there in the first place. a peaceful expression forms on your face and all of sukuna's eyes soften.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the next time you awaken you find yourself in the comfort of your own room making you doubt if everything that happened was a vivid dream. and you would have believed that doubt if not for the person sitting in the corner of your room, his four arms folded into each other.

you flinch upon seeing him and sit straight up, a groan escapes you involuntarily from your sore body.

“you're awake, brat” his deep voice sends shivers down your spine.

you nod slightly, your eyes on anything besides him.

“how are you feeling?” this makes you jolt your head towards him because did he just ask about your well being? you would say you misheard but the frown and distaste on his face only confirms that he was, in fact, concerned about your condition somehow.

“im feeling alright” you say quietly, still a bit afraid of the man sitting in your room who could easily overpower you if he wanted.

“i should hope so. your weak body didn't take much to heal as easily injurable as it is” he sneers from the shadows that enveloped him.

“so it wasn't a dream?” your voice shook a little which doesn't go unnoticed.

“no. i have taken care of the matter. you may rest at ease” he rises to his feet, he looks way too big to feel safe around. you hug your blankets a little tighter. wait, when did you even have that many?

“do not fear. i do not intend to harm you.” two out of four eyes narrow at you and how scared of him you looked. sukuna doesn't like how that bothers him.

“how do i know that?” your eyes didn't meet him, rightfully so, if it was anyone else who questioned him, sukuna would waste no second getting rid of them altogether.

“it is i.” a viable answer – one that doesn't need any further explaination. sukuna maybe a merciless hard hearted being but he's also a man of his words. anyone who knows him would be aware of this fact.

“but i don't know you.”

he supposes you're right. in a way, nobody knows him. this was also why he remained so strong despite people and sorcerers alike sharpened themselves while fighting him. he did not have an opening to allow them to kill him.

“then you can start from this moment forward.”

“i don't want to.” for the first time, sukuna faces disappointment; but it's a different kind of disappointment. normally he would be discouraged at how nobody was able to stand a chance against him but now, he feels helpless. much like he was the prey and you're the predator.

“and your reason for that is?” ever so curious, he glowered at your body which had somehow become smaller amongst the sheets of blanket you're enveloped by.

“because then… then i will grow to understand you. if i do understand you then that would mean id find out you have a heart. someone with a heart would never… would never…” your voice trails away and you look horrified by the memories flooding your mind.

“so i don't want to know you.” you muster up enough courage to stare into his eyes, all of his eyes and sukuna can feel your soul tremble.

he only watched silently as you fidget under his watchful gaze. great. he's at a loss by someone who's terrified of him, how much more could you hit a blow to his pride.

without a word, he steps out of your room and he could hear you exhale. he huffs in annoyance at how tense you are in his presence. and your words. they might as well be your cursed technique attacking him with every enunciation that came from your mouth.

and they were working.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the world was somehow shifting. you couldn't exactly pinpoint where or how but it was.

“master has assigned you a new room that would be more comfortable for your stay” uraume says, standing in front of you in a polite stance. “please allow me to guide you there.”

if this is his attempt to make you forget about all the destruction he caused, for whatever reason, it was futile. he was irredeemable.

your thoughts might have been apparant on your face because uraume continues, “master says he does not have an ulterior motive. he simply wants you to be comfortable.”

since when did that beast care about other people's comfort except for his own?

“fine then, show me” if he offered, then there's no problem in accepting. heck maybe you should be taking advantage of his hospitality and ask for whatever you desire. he has put you on death's row and wiped of everyone you knew after all.

you were led to a room that was closer to the main area of the palace, a stark contrast to the basement of the kitchen — where you started from.

pieces of beautiful art were decorating each corner, finest tapestry hanging from the walls, and the curtains? they were of the best material you had ever known. no doubt, this was a room that exceeded even your dreams.

uraume opened the closet revealing kimonos of various kinds, from silk to linen to satin— every kind was there. “i was not aware of your taste so i assorted various kinds.”

you were amazed at the room, the materials – everything but these measly riches don't bring lives back and the monster certainly wasn't capable of any empathy so the words saying he has no ulterior motive were nothing but empty to you.

“what? have i been promoted from prey to concubine now?” the word alone makes you sick to your stomach but it's the only explanation that makes sense.

“you are very wrong. master does not keep concubines. it is only an extension of his kindness.” you laugh, sukuna? kindness? please.

four eyes narrowed at your bitter laugh, sukuna stands in the doorway, each of his two arms folded in each other. he has lost count of how much disrespect he tolerates from you but strangely, it does not give him a drive to kill, only annoyance.

a brow raises when you turn around after being aware of his presence and your laugh, as mocking as it was, dropped into a frown.

seeing how speechless you are, he huffs. from out of nowhere, he conjures up a bow and an arrow to go along with it. sukuna moves stealthily, one step and he's already next to you.

the bow and arrow are shoved into your hands “i have heard you are exceptionally good with these” sukuna says, his voice was low and calculating – if you hadn't known better, you'd say it quivered a little.

he wasn't wrong though, you had to hone some sort of hunting skill for food. life wasn't kind and you learnt it the hard way. nevertheless you felt safer with some kind of weapon you were familiar with, even though they won't be of much help against a sorcerer.

“master’s very own bow and arrow” uraume interrupted, their face had an expression of shock you had never seen on them before. there was an engraving on them– the same mark that sukuna had on his body.

“why give me this?” you ask and receive no answer. not because sukuna doesn't want to answer you, he simply doesn't have a reason. he just wanted you to have it. it felt natural. he'll be damned before he ever admits that to you or even to himself.

“what if i use it on you?” you press on, clutching onto the wooden weapon tightly. “what if i wanted to fire this at you?”

“i would let you.”

it caught you by surprise. why? you want to ask but you also didn't want to hear his reason. you don't want to know him. the little barrier you had put between you both is the only thing giving you leverage against such a vicious being, you couldn't afford to have it break down.

taking a quick abrupt step back, you line the end of the arrow to the bowstring and pull on it with an expert ease, aiming it at sukuna. uraume was about to step in but sukuna waves them off. as if the most feared curse user couldn't defend himself.

he could already have you breathing your last breath in a mere second if he wanted to but of course, he doesn't. he just stands there unmoving. his lack of response to your threat made you all the more aggravated.

“aren't you going to stop me?”

“no. proceed with whatever you intend to do, i shall not stop you.” sukuna's folded arms fell to his sides, giving you an open target for his heart.

now you should be firing your arrow with no hesitation right? you have hunted down countless moving targets from as small as a bird to something as big as a deer.

and they were running while you manage to hit a bullseye – every single time. so now this unmoving big target within just a few meters would be a piece of cake. it's your chance to end the tyranny of his wicked rule and him altogether– a chance that had not been granted to anyone who stands against him.

but your hands wouldn't move. they wouldn't let go of the string to propel the arrow towards him. they were frozen in place. you would have doubted uraume’s technique being in play but no signs of ice crystals found themselves anywhere near.

sukuna waits and you wonder if he was ever this patient.

your hands tremble, slowly letting your form down. why couldn't you just do it?

“human–”

sukuna's words were cut short by a swift arrow flying towards him. he didn't make a move to avoid it.

your trembling hands were now perfectly stable holding the bow. your breathing was calm, collected even. if anyone were to see you now, they'd wonder who the beast is. empty eyes deadpan at your target.

sukuna stares back, his cheek bleeding from the graze of the arrow. unlike your soul-less face, a satisfactory smile creeps onto sukuna's. “you didn't miss, did you? you aimed here on purpose.” his hands caress the small wound in awe.

“next time i wont.”

“as i have said, i will not stop you.”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

the new room was comfortable, all your needs were tended to and your conduct exceeded your desires. you were treated equal to a queen, if you knew how.

and uraume, sukuna's loyal servant, was now your own. they were still very distant though, not speaking more than they needed to. not like you really minded anyway.

uraume was there to observe. they were under strict orders to keep you safe and also report your daily status to sukuna. you weren't exactly aware of this part but there's no harm done so by logic, there wasn't a problem with it either.

sukuna finds the corner of his mouth twitch when uraume mentioned that you sang obnoxiously loud because you thought nobody was around. he'd have loved to hear that himself.

the amusing brief about you was however rudely interrupted by a strange person brave enough to march directly into the throne room unannounced.

“you're from the kamo clan aren't you? have you come to die a meaningful death?” sukuna's thirst for battle heightened upon seeing a sorcerer from one of the three main clans in jujutsu. maybe finally, he can have a strong opponent and enjoy the fight without having it end too early.

but the man only chuckles “no, i have come here to negotiate with the almighty king of curses himself”

sukuna frowns, now staring at him unamused “you do not have anything worth a value to me. fight or die a pathetic death.”

“i will do neither of those.” noritoshi kamo, stands face to face with sukuna without a hint of fear in his eyes and that makes sukuna curious. just what kind of offer does he have to be so bold?

“prove that you are worth my time you filthy scum” sukuna glowers at the man, getting more and more impatient by the second.

“how about that prey? how is your little prey doing?” kamo smirks and it's enough to tempt sukuna to cut through his skull but no, he refrains because anything that involves you, sukuna doesn't take it lightly.

“speak up or i’ll have you slashed.” sukuna remarks impatiently.

“it would be a shame to have her taken away from you isn't it?” the old man sneers.

the next thing he knows is his ragged breath and a sharp pain across his chest, kamo falls to his knees. sukuna’s technique had manifested a cut through his chest, although not deep enough to end him. with blood oozing out of the fresh cut and his mouth, he still has the courage to glare at the four eyed creature.

“you must not value your life” sukuna says nonchalantly, leaning against one of his hand, the grotesque sight was nothing new to him at all.

“your reign is coming to an end isn't it?” kamo laughs, although it comes out through splutters of blood. “no matter how powerful you are, you are not immortal sukuna, you still won't defeat death!”

as if sukuna is one to fear death. sukuna only sighs, revelling in the bloodied state of his intimidator.

“and your little human toy won't either” that earns a reaction from him. sukuna's eyes narrow at the pitiful man fighting for his life.

“what are you suggesting?”

“what if i tell you– that there is a way for you to be immortal? and that it's possible to find her in every lifetime?”

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

everyone who knows sukuna knows that he does not get hurt. or yet, there's nobody who's strong enough to hurt him. generation upon generation, sorcerers have teamed up to get rid of him but with no luck. not even one of them could land a hit on the ferocious being.

all the more reason for you to be speechless when he returns with a huge hole in his stomach, bleeding continuously.

it was during your stroll that you saw him staggering over to his room.

okay maybe that was a lie. maybe you'd heard that a very prominent sorcerer in the jujutsu society had challenged him. you didn't know much about that world but it was enough to worry you, even if sukuna was undefeated.

so maybe that worry brings you into a situation where he arrived just while you were taking a stroll in the garden. you definitely didn't purposely take longer to watch the birds fly back to their nest in hopes of making sure sukuna returns. definitely not.

that's also NOT why you're knocking on his door boldly.

the door opens, revealing a confused sukuna. your eyes dart down to his injury but it seems the blood had stopped, still looking nasty regardless.

you wince just by looking at it but sukuna interrupts your unwarranted examination. “eyes here human. what do you want?”

for someone who's supposed to be prey, you're bold because in the next moment, you find yourself pushing through the door and asking him to sit down.

yes. you— a mere human, barged through his room and asked him to sit. when he doesn't comply, you walk up to him, pulling on one of his hands, guiding him towards his chair and sat him down. and strangely, no hint of protest came from him – not even a grunt or a growl.

with familiar ease, you call in uraume and ask for an emergency kit. they hesitate but comply regardless.

your expert hands slowly disinfect the wound and start stitching it up, not even sparing a glance at the man who just watches you and lets you do whatever you want to him.

“where have you garnered skills to do this?” sukuna asks mid stitch and it's only then that you realised he hasn't done so much as flinch. you could imagine how painful it would've been for a normal human but apparently this counts for nothing to him.

“when you're desperate enough, you just know” the last string goes through his flesh and you tie a knot, snapping the thread off. your movements slow when you realise you're touching him– skin and all, with your own.

your eyes lock when you search for his and they stare back. this time, you don't see a vicious brute but in its place, you see the eyes of a man. and not just any man, if you allowed your thoughts to wander you'd say it was the same look of a man capable of love.

but you don't – you look away. and sukuna's could feel a slight pull in his chest.

“human.”

“i have a name”

“human.”

the disregard for your name only makes you roll your eyes in annoyance. the man only chuckles at the sight.

“you do realise i can heal myself?”

a pause. of course how could you forget? reversed cursed technique they call it? all these magical powers granted to them made no sense to you at all. you only stare at the wall dumbfounded as sukuna downright laughs at your humiliated expression.

“why didn't you stop me then?” your grumble only amuses him further.

“perhaps because i wanted you to acknowledge how foolish you are?” his tone was teasing and not a hint of malicious intent was within it. a smile creeps on your lips and sukuna could swear his heart rate accelerated.

“i could show it to you if you're curious” your wide eyes give him all the confirmation he needed. sukuna rises on his feet, the prior horrid injury long forgotten.

“you could… take off the bandages. if they aren't effective anyway since you can heal” you shrug, trying to brush off your wholly service that was in fact not required in the first place.

“i rather they stay.” his hands graze them gently and you could swear he smiled at the pitiful mounts of cotton plastered on his abdomen.

“come. allow me to show you what im capable of.” he offers you a hand, out of the many he has and his shoulder slumps in relief when you take it without any protest.

he takes you outside and leads you towards your favourite spot in the garden. you don't let yourself wonder if it's a coincidence or not.

“see that fruit?” he gestures to a ripe apple hanging on its tree – super red and just the perfect size.

“yeah want about it?” you tilt your head towards him curiously making sukuna more enthusiastic to show you his perfectly crafted technique.

an invisible slash cuts the single fruit out of the tree, making it fall. it was barely noticeable and you'd think it fell on its own if not for the perfect slices it has all while it landed in the palm of your hands.

your wide eyed gaze only delights the man responsible for it. you take one slice off and admire the precision “you did this?? no way!”

sukuna heaves his chest proudly. strangely, your adulation to his antic gives him so much more satisfaction than wiping out an entire village.

“wait till you see this” sukuna takes a step back, his lips quirking up into a tight smirk upon seeing your expectant expression.

he places his hands together and gestures up signs that were not familiar to you. “fuga « open »” his low voice chants while fire manifests into the palm of his hands. he moulds the flames skillfully as it takes the shape of an arrow – a fire arrow.

and you're left with your mouth agape, he was truly terrifying. such bright flames don't even burn him but instead falls into his command.

sukuna likes the way you stare at him in wonder and was tempted to tell you that he created this very technique in honour of you and your bold decision in grazing his cheek with your arrow but for now, he holds his tongue and lets you admire as long as you want.

when the flames burn away, you're still in a haze— staring at the man in front of you with diluted pupils: one might think you're in love.

as sukuna focuses his eyes into your own, he's certain he could see into your soul which grows a little more familiar to him everytime he sees you. no it's not how he feels the familiar terror in someone's soul when they tremble in fear of him just as he was about to take their life.

it's not the same shudder of fear he used to feel when he's around you. this time, it's inviting. he feels he could be stripped of his technique and just be a normal being if it meant he could submerge himself in it.

───────────── 🃜 🃚 🃖 🃁 🂭 🂺

sukuna used to anticipate how he would die. he wanted to meet someone who would be strong enough to give him a formidable death fit for the most evil being to tread the world. news of fresh generation of strong sorcerers would excite him.

but the moment he knew he was entranced by you, that prior excitement was now replaced by fear. not fear for his death but rather, for yours. if anything were to happen to him, who would protect you?

it doesn't help how his enemies were catching hints on his possible weakness now. it all started with that damn bastard from the kamo clan, whom sukuna swears to kill. him and everybody else that could pose as a threat to you, he swears he will kill them all.

a little part of him also starts to fear for his own end. he fears that no matter how long he lives, he might think he doesn't have enough time with you. how could he when you're here, showing the sides or the world he never knew existed? the same world you weaved with every gentle word you say, no matter how insignificant.

sukuna can't get enough of the small smiles that were appearing more frequently when he reaches out to hold your tiny hand in his big ones.

he can't get enough of your soft snores when you're asleep in his chest– no more nightmares haunting your sleep because as long as he's around, any curse would have to fight him to get to you. no curse was bold enough to do so.

and mostly, he can't get enough of your small gentle strokes across his face. your touch was feather light and curious but so so loving that even when your hands were about to be pulled away, his own grabs them and makes them stay.

sukuna has nothing at all to base it off of, but if he had to name what he's feeling right now, it would be along the lines of complete devotion to you – in other words, he suspects it's the feeling these weak humans and yozoru keep preaching about: love.

and he's not denying it– not to himself at least or he can't. during his recent battles, he observes himself ending it as quick as possible.

instead of luxuriating in the thrill of battle, he finds himself rushing to kill his opponent – to end it as quick as it was humanely possible because every second he spends away from you is a second wasted.

he was becoming more precise and ruthless now that he has something to protect.

that's why even when you ask about his murder streak and if he could lessen it, he just ruffles your hair and tells you not to worry.

any sorcerer who has gotten close enough to land their sights on you were brutally tortured until they give up on their life altogether.

however, life can be funny at times. his own fear for your well being is possibly responsible for the curse that now latches onto you, consuming and draining the life out of you and sukuna's forced to watch as you slowly became a husk of who you used to be. so really, it's not funny at all.

he feels helpless and he is. none of the cursed techniques he has could exorcise the curse blooming inside you and spreading through your veins.

he has been warned before and he didn't care. he never fathomed to ever find someone to love so he traded his soul for his fervent reign – a binding vow: any being whose soul remotely gets near his own would ruin itself without any means for its resurrection.

another condition of the vow was for him to forget about it only after it was too late. at the time the vow was made, sukuna had thought, no, he'd known he lucked out by a power at the price of such a feeble condition but now… now he knows how gut wrenchingly wrong he was.

sukuna slumps in defeat at the sight of your weak body fighting itself. all his four hands encased one of yours as he listens to your staggering breaths that slowly becomes more faint than the last.

for the first time, no matter how tainted his hands were of from the numerous people he murdered in cold blood, sukuna finds himself praying; not for salvation or forgiveness but for your suffering to be placed onto him instead.

he has just found happiness with you, and in you, had just started to learn how to love someone so much that all his wicked ways were something he wished he never did. he had been stupid and arrogant – too arrogant. he was sure the heaven and whole generations of people he killed were now laughing at him drowning in his own misery. how the tables have turned on him and humbled him.

“kuna..” your barely audible voice mades him lean closer to your face, one of his large hands coming up to caress your face delicately.

“human. save your energy” sukuna scolds but his tone was not demanding by any means. it was desperate, desperate for just one more second of you.

a faint smile ghosts your almost now deathly pale face “it's not your fault.” you manage to cough out through staggering breaths.

sukuna's world might as well stop. it was his fault, everything was his fault. from the moment he caught a whiff of your sweet sweet blood to when he looked at you as nothing but prey to the moment when you became the sole reason for his existence, it was all his doing. he has taken you and tangled you amidst the string of despair.

his head shakes in denial, no words coming out of both his two mouths. so much to say, so many ways to say it but nothing.

but you know, the four pupils staring at you take the form of hearts, and that tells you everything. it could be just an illusion you'd heard people speak of on the verge of death but it's enough for you.

your sweet blood slowly looses its essence as you close your eyes, the last light inside you leisurely fading away.

“oi human” sukuna calls but there was no response.

“answer me” a plea.

still no answer as your hand slowly goes limp in his own. there was silence and nothing. so much of nothing that was unfamiliar in the otherwise air of curiousity that always surrounded you.

“human.” sukuna's voice wavers as his hands come to cup your too peaceful face. he searches for any signs of life but he finds none. before he knew it, a drop of water landed on your clueless yet beautiful features, then another and another.

the monster was crying. not just crying – he wept.

his entire body shakes as he lets out his pain, holding onto you desperately as if that would bring you back.

“human” he dries away his own tears on your face and brushes away the hair that dared hide even a portion of it.

“you're not a curse. you have never been. you were my blessing, my salvation. you are the best thing that have ever happened to me. you cleared my skies and showed me how it was to love… and be loved.”

sukuna trembled in grief at your loss. the king of curses– reduced to a man in love.

perhaps he wasn't the cannibal here. perhaps you were the one who slowly teared him apart and consumed his very being– merging yourself into his core without him even realising it.

but one thing he knows for sure is that if he were to do it again, he'd let himself be devoured entirely by you. over and over again. to be loved is to be consumed and he's offering himself to you, flesh and bones on a silver platter.

“until next time, my love.” he leans in and places a fragile kiss onto your forehead and that's the first and last time he has a taste of you.

with the last drop of your blood running dry and the absence of the warmth that made you, you; sukuna finds his answer – the reason why your blood tasted so sweet was because he was made to crave it. something he could quench his thirst with but never getting the chance to do so; a punishment perfectly fit for him.

“your deal. i shall agree to it on a condition” sukuna glowers at kamo who only smirks with an ‘i told you so’ written all over his face. sukuna would have slashed him to bits if it weren't for the agreement he agreed to take up on.

“i shall trade my soul to become a curse only if i get reincarnated exactly a thousand years from now” sukuna proposes, no, commands. it is said that a soul is reincarnated only once every thousand years and he wants to make sure he finds you in the next lifetime. maybe then, he'll have enough time with you and if he's lucky enough, be able to love you without bounds.

“that could be arranged” kamo quirks his head in a way sukuna despises. “but she'll have no memory of you. you're proceeding with this knowledge, yes?”

sukuna only narrows his eyes and ignores his question “that is not all. erase her existence from the minds of everyone besides me. generations hence, no one shall know who she is. her name shall be removed from every mouth that speaks of my reign.”

kamo smiles lazily “your soul is not worth that much sukuna”. the man strolls freely in the room, not minding the looming presence of the king of curses. “however, a binding vow could be arranged.”

great. another binding vow. but if that means he'll meet you in a thousand years time, he'll vow as many times as required.

“the grounds of the vow is as follows: you shall be reincarnated only if there appears a vessel suitable to withstand you.” kamo proposes. “your fingers will be cut and hidden in vast areas across the world and you shall only succeed in full reincarnation if you find them and consume them, all while being suppressed by the vessel.”

sukuna frowns and kamo only laughs “do you agree to the vow knowing all the risk it carries?”

conditions and regulations were a pain but nothing could stop a man desperate enough to give up his soul twice. “very well” sukuna agrees.

and that is how the heian era and sukuna's legacy came to an end; sealing himself – and the memories of you only he carries with him – into his twenty fingers, each of which turned into cursed objects scattered far and wide like pieces of puzzle waiting until the time comes for it to fit itself together again.

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thepitlanepress · 1 month ago

Text

I DON'T LIKE IT –

↳ lando norris + bestfriend!reader

⌗ :: masterlist

⌗ :: a/n: im actually in a lando phase (maybe its bc i f1 is gone for months) but its effecting me so much so im blessing you all with JEALOUS/POSSESSIVE LANDOOOO AHHEHE. merry christmas my lovelies <33 (also if this is bad im sorry i was extremely tired when i wrote this lol)

usually you don't like going out with lando. the clubs, partying, drinking it wasn't exactly your scene.

so when he insists you come out with him to celebrate the constructors championship, you can't exactly say no. hence, the short fitting black dress, and nicely done, hair and makeup that you've put on. when you go out, you go out, it just doesn't happen very often.

"are you nearly done?" lando's voice calls out from the living room as he waits for you.

"yeah, i'm coming now," you call back, walking down the stairs and mentally preparing yourself to talk and interact with people.

you grab the car keys off the small table in the hallway and make your way into the living room your footsteps announcing your presence to lando, he turns around and slightly falters in his movements when he sees you.

"uh, wow, okay," he says looking you up and down slowly, his eyes raking over your body.

"what?" your brows bunch and you look down at your outfit. "i thought it looked good, is there something wrong?"

"uh... no, no, you look amazing, i just wasn't expecting you to look so nic-"

"you weren't expecting me to look nice?" you raise your voice playfully.

"no, no, no i- uh- no- look... shit," lando mutters looking down and shaking his head. "you look amazing, seriously. i just forgot how well you can pull off a black dress."

you smile, and chuck the keys towards him, "i can pull off anything lando norris, even you. and that's not something everybody can do." you wink and walk back out through the hallway to the car.

"you can pull off me?"

"yeah, not every girl can have lando norris on her arm and still be the centre of attention. there are perks to being your best friend you know."

"and there are perks to being yours," lando says unlocking the car and sliding into the drivers seat. you feel the safest when he's driving, always trusting him when he's behind the wheel.

"oh really?" you ask looking over at him. "like what?"

"you," he murmurs backing out of the driveway. you don't hear him though, too distracted by a text you received from your sister.

–––

he didn't like it, you could tell. was it the murderous looks he was sending in the direction of the guy's - who's name you've already forgotten - or was it the looks he was sending you, heated and something else? both probably.

he wasn't even focused on the crowd around him dancing and drinking their nights away.

when the guy started getting too handsy that is when you felt lando's hand wrap around your waist and causing butterflies to erupt in your stomach - which you promptly ignored.

"leave her alone, mate. she's mine," lando's voice comes out harsh his anger directed towards the man who steps back apologising - typical of him to only step back when another man steps in.

"oh sorry, i didn't know," he slurs and walks off, most likely to go puke in some poor person's handbag.

you're about to spin around in lando's arms and thank him for rescuing you but you stop short at the expression on his face. "what?" you look down at your outfit. "is it the same thing from earlier? what's wrong?"

"i don't like it."

"don't like what?" you ask furrowing your brows.

"when other people touch you," he responds quietly his voice low and tempting. thats new.

"oh," you reply slightly dumbfounded. in all your years of knowing lando norris you've always had hidden feelings for him, sure there were points when said feelings were buried deep deep down, but they were always there.

and you always thought they were never reciprocated but they way lando is looking at you right now is... something new. something you like... a lot.

"i don't like people thinking they can just touch you. they can't. because you're mine not theirs. you're my best friend. you're my person. you're not theirs to touch or hold or flirt with, because you're mine."

his arms tighten around your waist as if he's expecting you to run away at any moment.

"oh my," you breathe. "i don't know what to say."

"tell me you feel the same way, tell me that i can be yours, because you're mine, and i'm not letting you go anytime soon."

"possessive are we?" you chuckle trying to diffuse the tension because he's probably drunk, he's going to wake up in the morning and apologise about this insisting he doesn't know what he was talking about and how sorry he was.

its happened so many times before.

your heart gets crushed every time. so you don't go out with him to avoid it.

but tonight this feels different.

"i haven't had a sip of alcohol tonight, this is the most clearheaded i've ever been in a long time... please talk to me."

"lando," you whisper. your heart is teetering on the edge of being shattered to pieces and finally telling the truth. you're walking a thin line between the two hoping to fall on the right side. "i don't want this to be like those other times when you wake up in the morning apologising for what you say."

"i never meant those apologies. i remember all those nights, i lied," he breathes swaying with you to the music. "i freaked out in the morning because you would always want to talk about what happened, and your face was always so distrusting so i shut it down pretending i didn't know what happened."

"really?" you're tilting on the line, swaying from side to side waiting for the words that are going to make or break you.

"really. i've been in love with you ever since the day you stopped to pick a flower that reminded you of me."

"lando," you give him a look. "that was like the second time we met."

"and i've been yours ever since." he smiles at you, his eyes filled with clear adoration, which quickly turns to a pissed off look when someone steps up behind you and asks for a dance. "piss off mate, we're clearly talking."

you smile and don't even bother to look back at the man, everything you've ever wanted is standing in front of you and offering himself on a platter for you. and you're tired, so tired of staying on the ledge between friends and more,

so you take the leap.

pulling him imperceptibly closer you wrap your arms around his neck and hug him tightly whispering in his ear, "i'm yours too."

you can physically feel his body relax and mold around yours - a perfect fit of course.

if you fall, it will hurt for sure, but this moment, right now; flying with him, together, will be worth it if you do.

2024 © thepitlanepress | please do not steal, use, translate or repost any of my works

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themultifanshipper · 5 months ago

Note

penny for more thoughts on paddock bunny reader 🙏🙏🙏🙏🙏

If you were asked to describe your status on the grid, you wouldn't say paddock bunny.

You were friends with the drivers, and sometimes you fucked them. Simple as that.

Warnings: Foursome?, but two are just voyeurs, Dom reader, Sub Lando, Max and Charles are just there, choking, PinV sex, teasing, dirty talk? Praising, one singular use of mommy, bc Lando has a mommy kink but it's not him that says it, Lando get humiliated in this one guys but he likes it I swear

Part 2 of One of the Boys

If the drivers were asked, they'd say "she's just one of the boys" with a smirk, and move on.

It was more like a reverse harem, you decided who, when and where you fucked. It was all completely under your control, and that was how you liked it.

Some of them might get a bit possessive from time to time, but they understood your limits, and always respected your decisions.

That didn’t mean you didn't like to indulge a little bit, though.

Take Lando’s win in Zandvoort for example.

Max and Charles were two of the most possessive brats of the lot, and Lando knew just how to torture them.

You were in his hotel room, ready to give him his reward, when he told you his plan.

Why not invite Max and Charles over to watch? And only watch, while Lando fucked your brains out in front of them.

The size of this man's ego…

It was a fucking wonderful idea, you thought, and you sent a text in the group chat to tell Max and Charles to come over.

It took them less than 10 minutes.

Meanwhile you and Lando had arranged the room for your convenience.

You placed two chairs a the foot of the bed, for Max and Charles, and lay down on your stomach, propped up on your arms while you waited.

What Lando didn't know was that although he just wanted an ego boost, to show off in front of his rivals, you had other plans for him.

You wanted to knock him down a peg. Lando was a switch by nature, but you knew just how to push his buttons to make him whimper and squirm in no time, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

When the knock came, Lando opened the door and let them in.

You explained the rules to them: they were free to touch themselves, but no touching you, and no talking. This was all about Lando, not them.

Once the two were firmly seated, Lando got to work, spreading your legs and using his expert tongue and fingers to make you drip down his face as you heard the tell tale noise of zippers opening.

As Lando worked, you moaned loudly, overplaying it a bit, and Lando assumed it was to put on a show for Max and Charles. But you knew exactly what you were doing, it wasn't for their benefit, it was for his.

Lando quickly made your legs shake and you got close to coming, but at the last moment he retracted himself and you were left gasping and scowling at him.

He was going to be mean, huh? Well you could be meaner.

“I don't want you to come unless it's on my cock, sweetheart. Turn over and lift your hips for me”

An opportunity! You bit your lip to hide the smirk threatening to appear on your face.

“No baby, you won the race, it's your reward. I want to ride you.” You purred in your most seductive voice.

His resolve slipped so fast, bless his heart.

“You're right, I'll let you do the work” he tried to remain cocky as he lay down, head at the edge of the bed on the boys' side so you were facing them, “Why don't you show them how good my cock makes you feel, love”

‘More like I’ll show them how good my pussy makes you feel, you smug bastard.’ You thought.

You straddled him and winked at the other two, both of them palming their bulges though their underwear.

You held his cock against you, barely pushing the tip in as you rubbed it up and down your slit.

You could tell Lando was tensing up under you, but there was no way he was going to submit to you in front of his friends and ask for what he wanted.

So you lay his cock down against his lower stomach and rubbed your cunt over it, rolling your hips enticingly while looking at Lando through lidded eyes as his tip bumped your clit on every glide.

His pupils doubled in size and you knew you were on the right track.

“What are you doing?” he whispered, although the others were barely 2 meters away so they heard perfectly.

You leant down and kissed him sweetly.

“Giving you your reward, baby. I'm making you feel good, aren't I?”

He gasped out a yes and you bit his lip lightly, knowing that would drive him nuts.

His hands went to your hips to lift you off his cock slightly and he looked at you with wide eyes.

“I'm gonna fuck you now, love”

Adorable, he was trying to put up a façade in front of the others but it was rapidly crumbling.

You raised an eyebrow at him and took his cock in your hand, rubbing the tip with your thumb. His hips bucked up involuntarily.

“And what's the magic word?”

He blushed and glanced at Max, who was closest to him.

You grabbed his jaw and turned his face back to you.

“Don't look at them, they’re not here. It's just the two of us.” Lando licked his lips, mouth suddenly dry.

“Now tell me, what do you want?”

He shuddered at your tone.

“I want to be inside you” he whispered.

You hummed and squeezed around his cock, rubbing the tip along your folds again to tease him.

You looked at him pointedly, waiting.

He blushed and his brain went fuzzy for a second before he spoke.

“Please”

“What was that? I can't hear you if you mumble” you popped just his tip inside before taking it out and resuming your movements.

He took a deep breath. “Please”

Bingo.

“Good boy”

You sank down on him in one go and he let out a guttural moan at both the stimulation and the praise.

You heard a sharp intake of breath next to you and you looked over to see Max and Charles gripping themselves, jaws dropped as they looked at Lando.

Now you were giving them a worthy show.

You looked back down and Lando had his eyes screwed shut.

This was so easy.

You raised your hips and dropped them back down, pulling a strangled moan from him before starting a rough pace, hands on his chest for leverage.

You clenched around him rhythmically and he whimpered every time. It was mean, but damn it if you weren't enjoying the sight of the cocky two time race winner falling apart under you.

His hips were jumping in time with your movements, which was a telltale sign that he was getting close.

“Lando look at me” he opened his eyes and moaned.

God, he always responded so well to your orders it was insane.

“Don't you dare come before me, baby”

He shuddered. “But I'm so close”

You chuckled. “Then you'd better hold it.”

“I can't” he whined.

“You can, and you will. Or you're never seeing this pussy again, Lando”

His eyes filled with tears and he gasped.

“No! Please, I need to come so bad”

You leaned down to mouth at his neck. “Then you'd better help me out, because I'm nowhere near, baby”

That was a lie. You were on the edge as well, you just wanted to see how desperate you could get Lando.

His hand went to where you were joined and he rubbed a thumb quickly up and down your clit, sending sparks flying through your body.

You couldn't help but let out a moan at that and he smiled lazily.

“Please, baby, come on my cock like a good girl” he said, almost managing to sound not completely ruined, and his hips started thrusting up into you with intent, nailing your g spot and sending you hurtling towards your own release.

Time to bring out the big guns, then. You looked up at the two older men, who looked dishevelled and quite close themselves, and mouthed at them “be ready”

They nodded quickly, not really knowing what they were supposed to be ready for.

You pinched Lando's nipple, hard, and before he could yelp, you wrapped a hand around his throat and squeezed, cutting off his air flow. You quickly beckoned Max and Charles over to you.

“Fuck, such a good boy, making me feel so good, baby. Need you to fill me up, fuck all your come into mommy, while Max and Charles come all over your pretty face”

He let out a strangled moan as his hips bucked uncontrollably and he did just that, filling you up as you took over rubbing your clit and the sight of Lando's face getting streaked with cum was more than you could handle and you fell over the edge yourself, head thrown back and colours bursting under your eyelids.

Lando whimpered as you clenched around him, getting turned on again at the sight of the mess of the three men in front of you.

“Holy fuck, that was…” Charles started.

“unexpected!” Max finished for him.

You smiled at them and back down at Lando, who was staring blissfully at the ceiling, in a post orgasmic haze.

You pulled off of him slowly and leaned down to kiss him, your lips joining passionately for a moment.

When you sat back up the other two had zipped their pants back up and were staring at Lando open mouthed.

You followed them to the door, bidding them goodbye and giggling softly when they kissed you on the cheek.

You walked back over to Lando and noticed he hadn't moved an inch, but his face was red and his eyes were glassy.

You grabbed a wet cloth from the bathroom and wiped his face clean, making sure to not get any in his eyes, then wiped his cock gently, and lastly your thighs, where Lando's come was dripping out of you slowly.

You lay next to him, pulling the blanket over the two of you and stroked his arm tenderly when you noticed he was still staring intently at the ceiling with tears in his eyes. Oh… oh no.

“You okay, baby? Did I go too far?” you asked.

He blinked.

“I'm never gonna be able to look them in the eye ever again…”

You wrapped your arms around him and giggled. You'd forgotten how much Lando could overthink a scene after it was done.

“Don't be dramatic” you turned his head and kissed him. “They enjoyed it, you enjoyed it, I definitely enjoyed it. There's nothing to worry about.”

He hummed, wrapping his own arms around you and pulling you close.

“And besides…” you continued, stroking up and down his spine “If they give you any shit about it, i'll make sure you can watch next time I give them a reward.”

A few seconds later he groaned and buried his face into your neck. “Now I'm imagining covering Charles’ face in my cum and I'm getting hard again”

Well… “You did just win a race, baby. And I could certainly go another round…”

That was the fastest you've ever been flipped over in your life.

#my thots #lando thots #lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris smut #charles leclerc #max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #ask #request #one of the boys

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lostinlads · 3 months ago

Text

Delicious Desire

Synopsis: after a heavy makeout session, xavier finds out that you've never been eaten out. he takes it upon himself to bless you with his mouth

Tags: xavier x afab!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, no use of y/n, smut, porn with little plot, not proofread, not edited, xavier is a MUNCH, eating out, fingering, first time, not virgin mc, use of pet names (angel, beautiful, bun), tongue fucking

Words: 2.1k

a/n: this is my first smut fic i have written in a WHILE so please be kind as i find my footing again! but shout out to my horny xavier moots on twitter for making me want to write this bc i wasn't going to do one shots for a while. anyway xavier is a munch that man is a slut and i love his ass sm! thank you for reading!

ao3 | kofi

Your relationship with Xavier was still pretty new, so many beautiful firsts with each other that will forever be engrained in your mind.

This morning was no different.

You two spent the night at his apartment, binging movies and snacking all night until the two of you fell asleep in each other's arms on his soft bed. Waking with the soft morning rays on your face, your boyfriend already awake with his head resting on your chest, fingers drawing small circles onto the flesh of your stomach.

Sweet nothings said between the both of you, enjoying each other's company.

Until you find yourself on his lap, mouths working against each other as you thread your fingers through his feathery locks. His strong arms wrap around you, holding you in place as you slowly grind your hips against his. Your mind growing fuzzy, getting drunk at the feeling of Xavier's lips on yours, the way he nibbles at your bottom lip before sucking it. The fluttering deep in your stomach never ending at every small movement under you, his hard cock growing larger with every move you make.

Xavier breaks your kiss, his lips trailing down your neck before sucking at the sensitive spot at the base. A moan slips from your lips, earning a satisfied hum from him, vibrating on your skin only making your head spin more. This wasn't the first time you've been in this situation with him, heavy make out sessions were inevitable with how whipped he is for you. Him knowing exactly what buttons to press for you to sing so sweetly for him, it drove him insane.

"Bun," Xavier nearly whined against your throat, your hips bucking slightly at just his voice alone. Fingers tightening in his hair.

"Hm?" You hum, words failing to form on your tongue. He nips, another gasp fluttering from your lungs.

"Wanna taste you," He mumbles, hands gripping your sides as he guides your hips against him, making you feel how fucking strung out he was on you. You blink, confused. Eyebrows knitting together as you try to piece together his words through the thick fog in your mind.

"What?" He groans, lips still abusing your neck as you feel his hot tongue lap at your skin.

"Please let me eat you bun," He begs. "You're driving me insane, please let me." Xavier thrusts his hips up to you, grinding his hard cock against your clothed heat as if to show you just how much he wanted this. You pull back, a whine leaving his lips as he loses contact.

"Uh-" Cheeks flaming, you don't meet his eyes. This was... unexpected to say the least. You weren't new to sex, having lovers in the past, but none of them ever ate you out before.

"If you aren't comfortable, angel, we don't have to," His hand coming to caress your face, thumb brushing your cheek softly as he reassured you. It's not that you didn't want to, you just were inexperienced.

"No, no," You start, shaking your head as you finally meet his awaiting eyes. Fuck, those eyes. Pupils blown wide with lust and want, glossy and searching as he waited for you to answer. "I just haven't... before..." You trail off, hands gliding over his clothed chest, heartbeat pounding against your skin. Xavier is silent for a pause, eyes flicking between yours as he takes in your words.

"No one has ever eaten you out before?" He almost sounds offended for you. You shake your head, heat from your cheeks stretching to the tips of your ears.

"No, it's never been brought up," A small smile grows on his gorgeous face as his hands run down your sides, gripping your plush thighs.

"We'll just have to change that then."

Xavier flips you over in a fluid motion, him looming over your shocked body as his eyes grow dark. Your boyfriend quickly strips of his shirt, tossing it behind him somewhere in the room. He looks starved, almost ravenous as he leans in, lips to your neck again. This time his assault isn't as graceful, needy and sloppy as he drools on your skin as he makes his way down to your chest. Hands sliding under the hem of your shirt, fingers grazing your skin as they roam over your stomach and waist. You arch your back, hot breath panting from your mouth as he makes his way down your body. Wetness pooling between your thighs as you feel the all too familiar tingle.

"So pretty for me," He mumbles against the soft skin of your exposed stomach, placing a soft, delicate kiss to it before he settles between your thighs. His hands run down, slowly spreading them as his eyes stay locked on your clothed heat. The only thing keeping him from his meal is a flimsy pair of sleep shorts and your soaked underwear. His pupils dilate, almost consuming the blue of his beautiful eyes. Tongue darting out as he swipes his lips, saliva glossing in the morning light. You wanted to drink him in when he looked like this, already so ruined for you and nothing even happened.

"May I?" Fingers curling under the waistband of your shorts, eyes flicking up to meet yours, pleading. You would pause time if you could, stay in this moment to stare at his face forever.

"Yes," Voice nothing more than a whisper as you breathe the single word out. Without a second thought Xavier pulls the shorts down your legs, eyeing your weeping cunt through your soaked panties. He groans, hands spreading you further as he leans in.

You gasp as his lips brush your inner thigh, hands fisting the sheets. He places a soft kiss to the fat of your thigh, then another, peppering your skin with the most loving caresses.

"You don't know how long I've been waiting for this, angel," He moans into you, pulling back so his face is right in front of your heat. The scene in front of you unfolds in almost slow motion, Xavier leaning down, lips placing a soft kiss to your clothed clit. Your stomach jumps, breath hitching as his tongue flattens, licking a stripe up your panties.

"Smell fucking divine," His tongue diving back in to lap at you through your underwear once more. A soft whimper leaving your lips, snapping him out of his high, eyes dancing over your face. You pull your lip between your teeth, nibbling on it as you sit under his intense gaze.

Xavier pulls down your panties, an agonizingly slow pace almost as if he wants to tease you. You watch the obscene string of your cum connecting your cunt and panties snap. He sucks in a breath as you lay bare, exposed to him. The cool air hits your slick heat, a chill running down your spine as goosebumps rise in its wake. Xavier swears under his breath, air fanning over your cunt making you squirm. You could see the last of his control slipping, fingers digging into your skin as he closes his eyes, taking a deep breath. He would be the end of you today.

Anticipation wells in the pit of your stomach, wanting nothing more than his tongue pleasuring you, to experience why he craves it so bad. You wiggle your hips, coaxing him to give in. Xavier's eyes flutter back open, looking only at your face.

"Eyes stay on me, beautiful," Before you notice the pink tip of his tongue poke through his plush lips.

He leans into his meal, fingers coming to part your lips as his tongue finally makes contact and-

Fuck.

A string of moans flows from your parted lips, back arching off of the bed again as his tongue licks again. Eyes never breaking contact with you, his lips come to wrap around your clit. He sucks greedily, cheeks hollowing as he moans. The vibrations ricochet up your heat, fluttering around in your stomach as your hands grip the sheets tighter, knuckles a ghostly white.

You feel the tip of his tongue add to the mix, lapping at your bud as he continues to suck. How were you supposed to last longer than five minutes with him working you like this? The coil hot inside you as you shift your hips, grinding your cunt on his face. You swear you feel him smile before he lets go, tongue prodding at your entrance.

"Oh my god-" You gasp, his saliva and your slick mixing together beautifully as his tongue glides into you. Xavier slurps, sucking down your spilling juices. You swear it's the most erotic sight you've ever seen.

"You taste so good for me, bun," Lips grazing your pussy as he speaks. He places another soft kiss to your cunt before he flattens his tongue, long strokes to your slit. His eyes never waver, locked onto your flushed face as he continues to pleasure you at an agonizingly slow pace. Wanting to saver you, your taste, your expressions, your soft fluttering moans.

Xavier's nose bumps your clit as he glides his tongue up, thighs twitching as your eyes roll for a split second before snapping back down to his blushing face.

You couldn't help yourself, hand releasing she sheet before reaching forward. Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging softly at his scalp earning a beautiful grunt from the man devouring you. Sweat shining on his forehead, plastering his hair to his face, the light blond locks turning darker. You've never seen him like this before, so lustful, so needy. It tightened the coil deep in your stomach, a heavy moan flowing freely.

His tongue glides back down to your entrance again, sliding between your gummy walls.

"Oh my god, Xav," You gasp, lungs not getting enough air. Hips grinding on his face, wet tongue burying deeper inside of you.

"That's it, bun," Breathy, fucked out voice blessing your ears. "Fuck yourself on my face for me." You couldn't help yourself, head falling back into the pillows as you buck, pressing his face further as you grip his hair tight in your fist. You were getting close, the wet sounds of his tongue fucking inside of you so deep bouncing off of the walls of his room, making your head so fuzzy. Mind going numb, the only thing you could think of is how you have gone this long without this pleasure before.

His nose brushes against your clit again, eyes rolling so far back you swear you could see your own brain. Hips lifting from the bed as you chase your high, wanting nothing to cum on his face. Xavier grinds hid leaking cock into the mattress, reeling in the pleasure he is gracing you with, getting off on that alone.

"Look at me, beautiful. Please, let me see your pretty fucked out face." Vulgar words you've never heard from him, voice so whiney you couldn't help but obey. Opening your eyes, glancing back down at him. You watch his hips hump into the bed, his lips wrapping around your clit before you feel one of his long, slender fingers fuck its way inside of you.

"Gonna... cum-" You manage to choke out, a cry of pleasure leaving your lips as he adds another finger, curling just right to hit that sweet spot inside of you.

"Me too, angel," He moans, the sound so beautiful it buzzes in your brain.

The sounds of him slurping your leaking cunt becomes too much, his hair tickling your thighs, his fingers hitting in you just right. The band in you snaps, hips lifting from the bed, back arching as you cry out to him. His moans join yours, blue eyes half lidded as his noises vibrate in your heat. Your cum coating his hand, dripping down his wrist as his hips stutter before halting as he cums in his pants.

Xavier's fingers slip out of you as he rests his head on your thigh, lips and chin glossy. Your hand falls to his damp cheek, a lazy smile spreading on his lips. You couldn't help but be in awe, how ethereal he looks after he cums, your work of art.

"That was..." You breathe out, brain fuzzy as you try to find the words. He laughs, hand caressing your thigh.

"You did so well for me," Nothing but love and admiration in his soft voice. "Let's get you cleaned up so we can go back to bed." Wet lips plant a kiss to your thigh before he stands, a wet patch spread on his pajama pants.

#love and deepspace #lads x reader #lads smut #lnds angst #lnds fanfics #lnds smut #xavier smut #love and deepspace smut #smut #lads xavier #xavier x mc #xavier x reader #xavier x you #lnds xavier #love and deepspace xavier #xavier love and deepspace #xavier lads #lads xavier x reader #xavier x y/n

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vaspider · 2 years ago

Text

Last year I wrote about what happened at Pride when a couple of kids didn't understand why us older folx were so bitter about Reagan.

This year, I have something a little softer.

Someone who looked a little older than me came up to the booth wearing a pink t-shirt proclaiming him one of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence, San Francisco chapter. As I was ringing him up, I asked if he'd been involved for a while.

"Yes," he said, "for a bit," in that way us middle-aged people do when we're sort of wincing and feeling old.

"Okay, well," I said, sitting at my register in my queer booth full of queer clothes and patches and pins, topless in public for the first time. (I had pasties on for my own comfort bc I was working, but I live in the city of the Naked Bike Ride, and I took full advantage). My baby brother and both of my partners ran around behind me, my brother wearing a loose tank top that makes his scars visible.

"I need to tell you that you all helped keep me alive."

He blinked at me as I continued, "I was a kid in high school in the early 90s. I lived in the middle of nowhere in Pennsylvania, and what you all were doing was so loud and so out there that even I heard about your work. It was one of the things that kept me alive. So thank you, and please thank the rest of the Sisters."

I heard about them through people in my parents' church complaining about them, and then I sought more information through the beginning of the internet, through newspapers, through anything I could find. I found the cover of Newsweek that one of the Sisters was on. I read about their "exorcism" of fundamentalist preachers whose books sat on the shelf in my parents' basement and probably still do. I saw how loud and colorful and unapologetically queer they were.

The knowledge that someone was out there, so full of defiant joy, refusing the shame that people kept trying to put on them? Oh, that kept me alive. I saw them, and I knew I could make it through. I wrapped my hands around that knowledge, and I held on so tight.

It took me a long time - a long, long time - to unwind most of it for myself and get to the point where my fat butch ass was sitting bare-chested in the July breeze, looking up at him as he held out his arms and said "you're actually giving me chills." I answered, "I mean every word. You helped keep me alive. So thank you."

I never know what to say when people come up to me in public and tell me that I helped them or changed their life in some way. I appreciate it, and I genuinely love the people who apologized for "fanpersoning" at me last weekend, I just never know what to say. I'm incredibly grateful that the Sister I spoke to was incredibly gracious, saying "usually we give blessings, but I feel like you blessed me." Another member of the party let me pet their tiny dog, who was not very interested in me, and that's okay. It was an overwhelming day. Then, they moved on.

Me? I'm still sitting with the fact that I looked last weekend into the faces of people who didn't know they were holding my head above water, and that I got to tell them the work they do matters. It's a rare thing to get to tell someone, "You saved me," and I'm treasuring it.

Last weekend, I wore my new battle vest with nothing underneath it, unless it was too hot, and then I just sat in my chair, chatting and ringing ppl out with my skin free to the air. I decided last year that top surgery isn't for me, but that also I'm going to love this body unapologetically, and it's no less a transmasculine body because the soft new dark hair on my belly isn't accompanied by pink scars along my ribs.

I didn't get here on my own. I got here because someone else cut through the undergrowth ahead of me so I could take another step forward. Here I am, decades later, still taking step after step, one at a time, and trying to lay paving stones behind me.

Last weekend was another step along that way, another step through unwinding the fear and shame and sadness that my parents and their church built into me. Another step out of hating myself for hiding parts of myself for so long, for acting out in other ways to distract people from my queerness, for feeling so much guilt when other people tell me I'm brave, because I know how much of myself I hid for how long because I was a coward, because I was afraid.

Another step into expiating stigmatic guilt.

#sisters of perpetual indulgence

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777heavengirl · 13 days ago

Text

Bless the Telephone ; ##04

James Potter x f!muggle!reader

word count: 1,163

warnings: none?

a/n: HELLO IM ALIVE- ummm did break up with my boyfriend, after spiraling for a week i am feeling much better! I did what was right for me and i am happier for it!! JAMES OR SIRIUS WOULD HAVE NEVER TREAT ME LIKE THAT! so yea I'm back :D thank you for putting up with my disappearances i should be uploading SEMI regularly just bc classes r in full throttle now

series masterlist

main masterlist

It hadn't been as difficult as you thought. Getting rid of Josh was a pending item on your to-do list for months. But for some reason or another, you never could, not completely. More often than not, he’d find some weak spot in your resolve, and crawl back in like a cockroach.

But not this time, at least not yet. After that day, when James’s call saved you from a bit of an uncomfortable situation, you managed to easily avoid his calls, if he knocked at the door Charlotte and you stayed unbearably still until he went away. He left voicemail after voicemail, called Charlotte’s phone with a bit more anger, and called your phone with crocodile tears.

But you weren't sweating it. You had fallen into an easy pattern with James, he’d fill the time that you would've been itching to fill and end up calling Josh out of boredom.

James was a good friend! At least that's what you’d tell Charlotte. She’d look at you with a glint in her eye and a smirk on her lips that you ignored. If only she was so keen and observant with women that she liked, she tended to lack awareness often.

You didn’t dare tell her about the playful jabs, the comments you didn't dare label fully as flirty, or god forbid the butterflies that fluttered at the pit of your stomach every time he called, laughed, or gave you some stupid cloying nickname.

“Come on pretty- just tell me” You could hear the pout in his voice

You groaned in defeat, “Okay okay- if I had to be any creature…” You thought about it for a second more “Potter this is stupid”

“Indulge me”

You sighed “Fine, I think I would be… a witch”

“That's not a creature love”

“Well they are to me”

“I know a few that would be greatly offended by that comment” he retorted

“Oh yeah? You’re friends with witches?” you mirrored the smirk you heard in his voice

“Quite a few actually, nasty women the lot of them…” James smiled, thinking of his friends. How Marlene would probably flick the side of his head, and Lily would wholeheartedly just roll her eyes. Dorcas would definitely send a book flying straight to his head if she heard, not that she hadn't done that often enough during their time at school. It was always deserved. “love them nevertheless though- Pick something else, witches are human”

You hmph in disagreement and thought about it momentarily

“I don't think it would be very pleasant to be a werewolf you know? A bit inconvenient-” you thought out loud

“You don’t know the half of it,” he said under his breath

“Vampires sound kind of cool… wouldn't be able to go out into the sun though so that's quite a shame” James hummed in agreement “Maybe a mermaid, they’re pretty right?”

“Allegedly, they’re more scary than anything else- foul foul creatures” The ones in the Black Lake had messed with him more than once.

“Oh, what do you know Potter?”

“Quite a lot thank you- more than you anyway”

“And why do you think that? Mermaids aren't scary dummy”

“You say that because you haven't seen one pretty” James’s mouth was faster than his thoughts, he prayed you’d just laugh it off.

“Oh, and I suppose you have?” He slapped himself on the forehead as he thought of some excuse. The witches' comment he was able to get away with, maybe his tone had been too matter-o-fact.

“Well, yes I have!” he said, confidently, ironically. You started laughing, his worry melted away. Would you even believe him if he told you?

“Is that so? Well okay, what creature would you be Potter?”

“A hippogriff I think”

“What the hell is that?” James burst out in laughter

You could feel Charlotte’s eyes on you as you scooped ice cream into your lips. You focused on the cold chocolatey flavor and whatever movie she had found. You didn’t know what you were watching, you thought of James.

James and his stupid laugh, and the way he always called you pretty or doll or some other completely repulsive nickname you wanted to hate. But you couldn't. He was sweet, and he always asked how you were, after he found out about your roommate’s existence, he asked about her too.

“y/n”

“yes charlotte?”

“What does he look like? is he cute? Is he tall? I reckon that’s an important one with men is it not” you groaned as she launched question after question

“Char, I already told you I don't know anything about him”

“But you talk all day, every day” She scoffed

“It’s not every day- nor is it all day I have things to do you know”

“It is though, every bloody day, you come in and launch yourself at the telephone like clockwork” You stared at your pint of ice cream, suppressing the small laugh that threatened to leave your lips.

You felt a tad silly.

“It’s just-” You started to say, Charlotte leaned in with an excited smile on her lips as if egging you on. “It feels stupid, I could be getting totally scammed right now- sure he sounds young, and sure he said he’s twenty- but he could be anyone, anywhere”

“Let’s think about it though- you guys talk a lot he has to be in England no? Calls out are so expensive” She grabbed the pint of ice cream from your hands, shoving a spoonful into her mouth.

“That doesn’t change anything Char, I don't know him” She waved the spoon around dismissively. For someone who was so cynical about her own love life, Charlotte was always ready to be invested in yours. You never minded though, you were happy to bond over the raging disaster that it seemed to be.

“You guys have never thought about meeting up? You haven’t even talked about it?” You shifted uncomfortably as she wiggled her eyebrows “Have you even asked him what he looks like?” You took the ice cream tub back, shoving ice cream into your mouth

“We’re missing the movie y’know?” She scoffed at your weak attempt to change the subject

“As if I care about that- come on, you’re rolling in laughter every time you’re on that damn phone so there is clearly some chemistry there”

“So what I also have chemistry with circus clowns?” You said, turning to give her a deadpan stare.

“You know what I mean” She took the ice cream back

“What if I meet up with him and he kidnaps me…” she offered you the last few scrapes left in the tub. When you shook your head she ate it gingerly, a small smile on her face. “Suddenly I’m in the arctic tundra being trafficked”

“As long as it's not with Josh,” she shrugged her shoulders “I reckon anything is better,” she said, snorting

“You’re terrible” You both fell into laughter

tags ; @ilovejamespottersomuch @ravisinghs-wife @hidontmindtheintrovert @stella-thestars @caspiankingofnarnia @lovelyteenagebeard @starkluvrr @hisparentsgallerryy @leilani13gc @katsusayhi @auroresce @lovemiss-vale @alessiaparigim @unconventional-lawnchair @moonydoodlez @eissaaaa @ailoda @nahhhwhatthefrick @notapoetjustscar @hiireadstuff @the-rat-king1902 @n1ght-vngel @littlewhitel1es @rreporterbby

permanent tag ; @laufeysvalentine @heyyyloverr

PLEASE PLEASE LMK IF I MISSED YOU I HAVE BEEN GONE FOR WEEKS AND I DID MY BEST TO COLLECT EVERYONE AHHHH thank you for reading <3

#harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #the marauders #the marauders era #marauders #marauders era #james potter fic #james potter oneshot #james potter fanfic #james potter fanfiction #james #james potter x reader #james x reader #james f potter x reader #james f potter #james fleamont potter #prongs #prongs x reader

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oh-no-its-bird · 9 days ago

Text

Ok so, thinking about this post, specifically the "dumb au where the Uchiha just really like Kakashi for some reason (clan stuff??)" part, and it got me thinking;

AU where the Hatake's have a reputation for being "good luck charm" to the point where some clans view them as genuine symbols of prosperity, and marrying one / getting one to join your family in some way is supposed to bless you, your family, and your fields for as long as they remain yours

Maybe their white chakra specifically is actually some sort of good luck thing? Idk, but like, there's that abstract idea.

"The Hatake, with their steely hair and blessed white chakra said to bless any fortunate enough to see it"

Could totally mash this in with the Sexyman Sakumo agenda and say part of his insane popularity was bc of the rumors about how his bloodline limit is supposed to give fortune to any who might tie him down

Oooo what if after his mission gone wrong, the rumors and reputation twists and suddenly people are saying no, they got it opposite, the Hatake's bring bad luck

Then Sakumo offs himself and Kakashi suddenly has to live with the reputation of being a bad luck charm

Could be fun.

Anyways, rewinding:

Gonna think ab the warring states with this idea first.

So, half Hatake Tobirama, right? Senju Butsama marrying a Hatake woman would be such a power move for him,,,

Oh my god wait ok: Something about the Senju clan and their planty stuff, then marrying a Hatake woman said to bring prosperity to their "clan and crops" is so good.

And then she also goes and proves it right by popping out the first mokuton baby in forever

So fun !!

I like the idea that their luck is said to specifically be in their white chakra, so like. None of the Senju boys being born with white chakra and their dad being upset by it bc that means the luck wasn't passed down. But Tobirama, being an albino, looks pretty Hatake so maybe some of the charm passed onto him...?

(It hadn't, but there's some fun to be had in the belief that it had.)

Tobirama never marries in part because he has no interest in it, and in part because many of those who approached him only wanted him for his supposed 'Hatake Luck'

You could so easily turn this into sort of a parody to a blessed eyes au by rolling with Tobirama having the social flex of being a Hatake, a good luck charm in human form.

Skipping back ahead to Kohona back to Kakashi— umm supposed "bad luck" Hatake Kakashi (to the general population of Kohona) being fuckin pspsps'ed at by the older clans who know Hatake's are good luck and are so trying to get him to join their clan (and bring them luck)

He's an orphan now!!! That means he's free realestate!!! Pspsps cmere little boy come let the nice old clan people adopt you teehee <3

This was meant to be a funny silly lighthearted thing but I can see several ugly paths to take with that actually. Let's stick to lighthearted fun for now tho

Ummm Obito actually survives the rock fall bc of Kakashi's Hatake luck, pass it on. He so should have died but he didn't and it's bc of Kakashi taking him as his "best friend" and suddenly boom, luck.

Ooo maybe when they swap eyes, uh, yk, Kakashi's eye has a bit of white chakra in it and now it's in Obito.

So now Obito suddenly has this double conundrum of "physically has a Hatake's white chakra in him (in his eye, even, which is a culturally and spiritually significant body part to highlight)

And he's considered family by Kakashi, who Kakashi thinks of (and unknowingly sends good luck towards) every day,,,,

Obito's plans keep going so well even when he does a half assed job at them bc of the fucking Hatake blessing Kakashi unknowingly placed on him, pass it on

Alternativley: silly fluffy 'everythings good and nothing hurts' au that's just older Kakashi being aggressively pursued by people both bc hes hot and also the Hatake luck.

Mothers want to adopt him to get him into their clan and fathers want to fuc—

Sorry what was I saying?

Anyways

Good luck charm Kohona sexy man Sakumo and his son Kakashi who grows up into a good luck charm Kohona sexyman himself....

Hatake good luck charm au. Make it happen. I believe in us

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chrissdollie · 1 year ago

Note

Dad Bakugo x mom reader - I need more children in my life 😭✋🏾

def calls his kid "squirt" and "buddy"

in mY universe, he has a boy and a girl bc he needs the best of both worlds

CALLS YOU "MA" GOODNIGHT

we all know he wakes up really early, earlier than you even, so he's the one to check on the babies/kids every morning to see if they're ok :)

definitely keeps schedules of you and your kids days like exams, report cards, if they're going to a friend's house, etc

yk how most kids tend to be like "ewwww" whenever their parents kiss?? not ur kids nono. first of all, your son is the quieter one. not that he's not talkative, he just has a little bit of a hard time expressing himself. anyhow, his sister is very loud. but either way, they both think its sweet. your daughter even said something like "i hope my husband kisses me like that" once (when she was an older kid tho lol)

your son goes to talk to you a lot. he adores you so so much. but one day when he wanted to hang out with you, you weren't home. you were busy running errands while katsuki was at home watching tv. your son started crying and katsuki was like wtf?? eventually, your son grew accustomed to speaking to katsuki. as he got older, he actually talked to him more than you.

teaches your son how to be a man :,) katsuki knew he was bitchy in his younger years and he didn't want either of his kids to be like him. he taught them both manners and how to properly have a conversation.

little pitter patter of their feet ran into your guys' shared bedroom on christmas morning and began jumping your bed. katsuki groaned and rubbed his eyes aggressively. "it's christmas, mommy!" your little boy shouted. "wake up daddy!!" your daughter shouted in his ear. "alright alright you rugrats"

at your daughter's kindergarten graduation (idk if everyone had this but i did lmao), katsuki was tearing up and although he tried to hide it, he had to remain the strong one while comforting you while you bawled your eyes out.

p.s your daughter is the oldest

when she brought home her first boyfriend... ooo chile

i see a lot of people writing how katsuki would act up but tbh in his older years, i think he'd be a lot more mature. he'd greet the dude politely and treat him like he would any of her friends

btw lemme just say: your daughter is a mommy AND daddy's girl. she loves u both insanely

honestly while eating dinner with the boyfriend or something, katsuki would be very blunt and not pay too much mind to him LMAOO he'd be like "'tis is great, doll" as if you don't cook dinner every week and it's only when your daughter brings up how he wants to work at katsuki's angency, where he perks up

"oh shit, no kiddin'?" and you smack his arm lightly.

well this changes everything! he practically gave the kid his blessing. "welcome to the family son"

your son doesn't really care about them together, he just doesn't wanna see his big sis get hurt. lets say that your son is 15 and your daughter is 17. "so, bf/n. have you fucked her?"

you almost spit out your drink like a cartoon. your daughter is shook, katsuki's rage from UA is all coming back to him, and the boyf is scared for his life

you, katsuki, and your daughter have a little talk after dinner

"use condoms" kats stated. "i- WH- nono you can have sex next year." you corrected but ur daughter is like huh?? "wha why next year?" you scoff. "because you'll be a legal adult thats why." "no offense, momma, but that's really dumb. when did you and dad start having sex?" she folded her arms. katsuki shrugged. "like i said, use condoms."

you and your daughter gossip like crazy alr?? ur like the gilmore girls except you're married and didn't get pregnant at 16 (almost)

and this is nothing new to katsuki, he's heard u guys gossip trillions of times. but when he found out you guys talked abouy HIM TOO??

he busts into the room. your daughter squeals and runs behind you. "hi honeyy-" he shushes you, "you guys talkin' shit 'bout me?" "nope" you guys say in unison. "there's this other guy, uh.."

#gonna probably make this a separate thingy where its like one part is when the kids were little and one where they're older #just so its more organized bc this was all over the place #katsuki fluff #katsuki #bakugo #bakugo x reader #dad bakugo #dad bakugou #mom reader #fem reader #mha #mha x reader #𝓴𝓪𝓽𝓼𝓾𝓴𝓲 𝓫𝓪𝓴𝓾𝓰𝓸𝓾

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eloquentlytired · 2 months ago

Text

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

fisherman! logan howlett x older! reader

word count: a lot

warning(s): smut, build up to smut, logan is 30 while the reader is in her 40s ( u choose how much ), cheating, logan is smitten with his beloved customer, reader has a daughter, and logan calls the reader mama sometimes bc she is indeed the best mama, reader’s husband is a dckhead if it makes u feel better, mentions of neglect and shitty behavior ( from husband ), but logan makes everything better, I LOWKEY LOVED WRITING THIS

note: I haven't written for older!reader before but I hope I didn't disappoint you my beloved anon! In the meantime I hope everyone enjoys reading this one if YES pls interact it'd make me happy🩷🥰 thank you always for the support !!!

There's nothing that makes Logan happier than doing the work he likes. It's a blessing to have found a small area he's fond of and an even bigger blessing to help out customers. Or to help you specifically.

Logan sees you for the first time when he opens the fish shop — it's the first one to open after the old one has shut down. You greet him with the sweetest smile while your daughter holds your hand.

“Good morning.” You tell him so kindly and your smile turns out to be contagious because Logan returns it instantly.

You ask him about his life and how he's ended up in this place while Logan prepares your groceries. He tells you but purposely leaves some things out of the way. It isn't wise of him to talk about his mutant abilities either way, he wouldn't want to scare you.

He finishes your order purposely slow but you don't tell him off, you don't even reprimand him for it. You smile and wave him off — and your sweet daughter does too.

After that he sees you many times. If he was a fool he'd assume that your diet is mostly sea food but no — Logan has caught on. And you have caught on his stares in return.

“My husband likes this but I much prefer tuna. I'm not sure why.” You tell him as you scan the new products he's stuffed his shop with.

Logan nods.

“Tuna is the best in my opinion.” He says.

“You really think so?” The way your eyes sparkle when you ask him, happy to just share something common with another person.

Logan is an absolute loser— “I really think so.” —and he actually despises tuna.

It's raining heavily when you enter his shop one day, drenched from head to toe. You're shivering while your hands are filled with shopping bags, making your shoulders fall because of the weight. Logan rushes to you — he was about to close up but it doesn't matter anymore — and takes the bags from your hands, stacking them on the counter of his shop.

“I’m sorry.” You tell him softly and Logan can hear the regret in your tone. “I know I shouldn't have come so late. I was trying to stack up the fridge because of the incoming storm. And I've left my daughter in the house alone too, my husband wouldn't pick up the phone—” He's heard that one before from you surely. The bastard.

You stop talking when Logan is suddenly by your side, wrapping a blanket around your shivering body. Your eyes meet and Logan prays that he stays sane through it all. Promises he hasn't noticed the way your long dress has become one with your skin or how the little mascara you've worn has run down your cheeks. Yet you look flawless to him.

“Hey.” Logan calls your name softly and you wonder when it's the last time you've heard someone say it like that, in that loving tone.

Logan doesn't speak your name to order you around to do his laundry or his food. Or the dishes. Or the chores. Or the gardening. Or...

His palm is warm when it settles on your shoulder and it pulls you off your trance. He's kind with his touch and with his gaze — Logan always has been with you. “I’ve got you.” He mutters and you break down in his arms.

Moments later, he's dragged you into the back of the shop and you sit on top of a counter wearing his clothes, sweatpants and a sweater, which barely fit. Logan is big— really big.

“I look ridiculous.” You say with a small chuckle but Logan's eyes regard you differently as he cooks. For you.

“You look perfect.” He whispers and it makes you freeze a little, makes you question everything that the golden ring around your finger stands for.

He notices, of course he does, but he doesn't mention it. Hell, Logan doesn't even think he cares when your husband is the way he is.

“Tell you what.” He suddenly says breaking the long silence. His hands move swiftly as he finishes preparing a giant portion of tuna and rice. You watch as he places the food in tupperware, counting the little boxes. “This is big enough to feed three people and coincidentally—” Both of you smile at the last word. “— we are two. And your daughter is one more, isn't she?”

Your heart beats fast within your chest and your tears prickle your eyes. It's perfect. It's too good to be true.

“I would hate for this food to go to waste and I'm sure the two of you are starving.” You watch him as he uses one hand to hold the food bag and the other to carry your other six shopping bags.

You move forward, hands reaching out so you can help him but Logan tuts instead and uses his knee to keep you back.

“I dare you.” He grumbles playfully and you nearly shudder because of the way he says it.

“You should respect your elders, Logan.” You manage to say between heavy breaths but all Logan does is feel amused.

He grins, then takes a step closer and you momentarily lose air when he leans too close. “Careful, mama. I wouldn't want you to be late.”

You stare at him still processing his words as he walks away to start his car. The ring around your finger feels weightless.

The dinner is good and you can't register a time when both you and your daughter have laughed so hard before. Dinner is usually dull, especially with your husband around, but you didn't even miss the good old times anymore. They were always overshadowed by the bad ones.

You watch as Logan plays with your daughter and your heart secretly flutters. Yearns for a different life than the one you have right now.

But it's too late, you think, and Logan could still build a good life with someone his age. Why would you even destroy that when he's been so good to you?

But then Logan turns to you and begins to talk. I'll do the dishes, don't you dare move. Stop thinking so much, you'll hurt your pretty mind. What a lucky girl to have a mama like this one.

So that's why you can't let go.

Your daughter is fast asleep. Husband nowhere in sight. No answers, no nothing.

Logan watches you from where he's doing the dishes, sitting on the couch and looking outside. You've drawn the curtains open to watch the rain. It's worrisome weather but it somehow soothes you.

“You worried about him?” Logan suddenly asks, taking you by surprise.

“I should be but I..” You shake your head and leave it at that. Logan understands.

There's more silence but it's not uncomfortable. There's no such word when Logan is around you, taking care of you. He wraps it up with the dishes and heads over to your stereo, fidgeting with it to find a signal.

“It won't work, Lo. Leave it.” You tell him softly and the petname makes him want to drop dead. In a good way of course.

Logan doesn't listen — he searches and searches. Then he finds it and turns to you with a wide grin in his face as if expecting some sort of praise.

Instead, he walks to you while the unknown beat of jazz fills the living room and offers you his hand.

“I don't think we should..” Your voice trails off when Logan doesn't budge. He simply won't.

You take his hand as he pulls you to the center of the room and slides an arm around your waist being so carefully. You rest your hand on his shoulder while your other two intertwine.

He sways with you and you sway with him. There's rhythm, there's harmony. There's something there you haven't had for over a decade and although Logan could have anybody else in this world, he looks most content there. With you.

“There are many people out there for you.” You begin to say as he leans his head closer to yours.

He doesn't reply so you insist.

“People your age. As old as you are—” Logan spins you around and then presses his chest against your back. You're somehow all over him, moving against him.

Both of his hands move to your waist and Logan takes the courage to press his lips against the spot behind your ear.

“I hate tuna.” Logan mumbles, his voice raspy and filled with need. His next actions shock you as he slides one of his hands over yours and strokes over your wedding ring. Logan grips it, removes it and lifts it to your eye level. “But I hate this more.”

The moment he tosses it away, he turns you around and his eyes speak so many things. Need. Desperation. Love. Struggle.

“Wear it back and I'll leave. Don't—” He swallows nervously. “—and I'll make you happy, mama. I swear I will.” But you've never doubted that for a second.

You stare at the carpet, at that little golden band shimmering somewhere. Then back at Logan.

“I’ll hold you back. You'll get bored with me, of me. Having me and my daughter— you won't—”

Logan kisses you because he can't stand listening. But he also can't stand holding back anymore.

The surprise is momentary as you squeeze your arms around his shoulders, struggling to fit all of him into a hug. Logan surprises you more when he uses a single arm to pick you up by your hips, your legs instinctively locking around his waist.

“Lo—”

You're more desperate than he is and for so many different reasons. He carries you to the nearest efficient surface — the dining table — and sits you there carefully.

Your eyes lock for a moment as Logan steals another kiss from you. “You want the ring?” He asks and you almost laugh. Fuck the ring.

You're the one who initiates the next kiss, tilting your head to deepen the action. Your hands tremble with excitement, Logan's tremble because he's never touched such a beautiful woman before in his entire life. His woman.

He's quick with your his clothes although a little messy. You can feel his excitement but also his nerves shifting as he reaches for your bra next, struggling to take it off.

“Easy.” You whisper against his lips and Logan is surely dead, must be dreaming. The hook never comes off because Logan rips the front of your bra with his bare hands and disregards it like it's nothing.

You can feel yourself physically react, cunt clenching around nothing although you want it to be around him. Now.

He's right here, your arms wrapped around his head as Logan takes a bud into his mouth and sucks. You react by whimpering softly and Logan sucks harder as his hand occupies your other breast, fondling it within his fingers.

The attention on your chest makes you weak, you love it. You're sensitive, he murmurs before grazing your nipple with his teeth. “I need more.” You find the courage to tell him and Logan nods because so does he.

His fingers grip your panties and rip it too — he has no control over that. It's like a primal urge to do it.

“How long?” Logan asks as he rubs two fingers across your cunt, parting your lips teasingly before releasing them. Every motion offers a wet noise from you. It's embarrassing.

“I don't remember.” You answer and it's all he needs to know to confirm about the failure your husband is.

You watch Logan drop to his knees. His eyes are blown wide with lust and his mouth parts as if starving. You realize what he wants and that he's been craving this moment since forever. The thought alone makes you shiver.

“I have never—” done this, you want to tell him but Logan let's his youth take over his reactions.

His hands are strong around your thighs, they're secure and sure. He won't drop you and you fucking know it as he guides your lower half over his face and sits you down hard.

Your hands shoot up to cover your mouth.

Logan mouths against your pussy before parting your folds with his tongue, dragging it high and low. Your hips shake and he flexes his fingers around your thighs, squeezing every skin he can get.

He licks everywhere. All of you.

His face gets buried into your weeping pussy as his nose grinds against your clit and his tongue circles your entrance teasingly slow. There's too much coming out of you, you're like an endless stream, and Logan isn't afraid to taste every drop.

It becomes worse when he distances you from the table and your legs dangle off the floor. You stare wide eyed because your only means of support is Logan's hands on your hips oh — and his face which has basically turned into your personal seat.

“Logan wait—” You yelp but your voice is muffled by your hands.

Logan doesn't listen, doesn't even pull away to breathe. The man is starved and there's only one thing he wants to achieve — to eat you whole.

You've given up trying to reason with him especially when he eats you out this way. You move your hips fast and are desperate to reach your peak. Logan's fingers tighten around your thighs as he guides your thrusts, moaning while you ride his face.

You bite your lip as you throw your head back and arch your entire body, thighs shaking around Logan's head. He wiggles his tongue against your clit as you orgasm, the stimulation of your bud making your entire body quiver.

He's got you, hands steadier than ever and keeping you safe, as you come.

When he slowly pulls you off, you look down at him but the concern melts away. You stare at his face and faint beard covered by your slick. It's not embarrassing anymore — it's different. You can't have enough.

The door of your marital bedroom is shut and locked firmly. Whatever shame or guilt you might have felt at the start, it doesn't exist anymore.

Your legs dangle on Logan's shoulders as he pounds you, his cock rummaging through your tight walls and hitting spots you didn't even know existed. Not like this.

His balls are heavy again and full of the load he wants to fill you with. But it's been hours like this and he hasn't stopped — Logan is something else.

“You think you can fit one more for me? Let me fill you up?” His lips brush against your ear and you shiver. You nod, lips fallen wide for sometime now and blabbering incoherent words. Logan only catches the more leaving your lips.

His hands keep your legs risen and over his shoulders as he fucks you, his balls smacking against your skin with each pound. They're covered in cum too because of how many times Logan has filled you, some of it pouring out.

It's too much but at the same time not nearly enough.

Your hands twist the bedsheets beneath you and you look at him — silently pleading with him to swallow your noises. Logan knows and his lips find yours, silencing you just in time as he comes again and pours his seed into you for the last time.

His heels dig against the bed because it's so intense as you squeeze around him and use one of your hands to toy with your over sensitive clit, feeling it all. Taking everything in.

“Logan.” You moan against the kisses and he grunts softly, swallowing every sound and word. You come around his cock with a shuddering gasp again and Logan releases your legs to wrap his arms around you, pulling you into him.

Your hands move enough to grip his bare shoulders, scratching them.

“Ride it out. So good.” Logan pants while squeezing you by your waist, lying on his side and dragging you with him.

He guides your hip around him, letting his hand linger there as his cock softens within you.

“There she is.” Logan whispers, looking at you. Seeing you receiving pleasure is one thing but to witness your peaceful expression, looking so content and happy... How could Logan ever let go of that?

You grab a hold of the hand that caresses your thigh and bring it to your lips. Logan watches you as you kiss every space between and on top of his knuckles, eyes fluttering. Your gaze lingers and so does his.

“You know.” He states after a while, nose brushing against yours.

“I know.” You reply and his heart jumps a little; not knowing if it's good or bad that you've discovered his true nature. His mutant side.

You kiss him, slow and gentle.

“You’re beautiful.” Is the answer that slips out of your lips and Logan wants to take you all over again but he doesn't. It isn't his intention to break you in such little time — now is just the start.

His strong arms pull you close and he blindly reaches for something. A blanket. He covers you with it and when your eyes meet again, Logan nudges your nose with his.

“You’re so perfect.” He says, voice raspy per usual, and kisses your face. Your cheeks, your nose, your forehead. “Gonna fucking die for you. Kill too.”

Your heart fills with affection and love. Your worries and the demons keeping you away from him are long gone now — Logan is right there. He's chosen you like you've chosen him. There's only one thing left to do.

“You happen to have two spots open in your heart?” You ask him and Logan smiles — it's the widest smile you've ever seen from him.

He nods.

“Just two? We can make it more than that. If you want I'll make you a mama again right now—” He's blowing raspberries at your nape as you wiggle, supposedly trying to shake away from his grip. That hollow room is filled with laughter after years of dullness.

Like you've said.

There's only one thing left to do.

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