#i think that's the first time i get to use that tag for him... might need to go back and edit previous posts

[thezombieprostitute]

The Prey

A/N: Follow up to The Hunt. Entirely written on my phone.

A/N2: Reader is big, tall and female.

Warnings: Implied smut, Implied violence, Self-deprecation, Stalking. Please let me know if I missed any.

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It feels like you've been on edge the entire week. Like you're being stalked, but every time you look, there's no one there. Figuring you could use a break you decide to eat at your favorite place for dinner. You're sitting in a booth at the pub, reading a book and eating some dinner when a man you don't know sits across from you.

"Damn you're cute," he says.

"No I'm not. And I really don't appreciate lying."

He gives you a confused look, "what do you mean?"

"I am, objectively speaking, unattractive. The way you said I was cute indicates a feeling of attraction and, let's be honest, that's not possible."

"You don't even know me but you really think I'm that shallow?"

"Look, it's not your fault society dictates attractiveness. Maybe it's just not something you ever had to deal with because you are very much an ideal. You've got beautiful eyes, a physique that is tall, muscular and healthy. And it just makes me wonder what's wrong with you that you're not already taken and you're slumming it with someone like me."

"Slumming it?" he asks incredulously.

"Yes," you nod. "All my curves are disproportionate to each other, too much here, too little there. I've got chin hairs and regularly get acne. My eyes are, at best, normal and boring. And let's not even get started on my hair. It's also a fact that men do not care for women as tall or taller than them. I am, objectively, physically unattractive. So when you call me cute, I have to believe you're lying."

"You are very weird," he shakes his head.

"I am," you agree. "Then again, you're the one who interrupted my dinner."

"Just trying to give you a compliment," he groans as he gets up.

"And all you accomplished was interrupting my reading."

You pick your book back up and pretend to read. Your eyes follow him as he heads back to his buddies. Your suspicions are confirmed when you see him hand some cash over to one of his buddies.

It's not the first time bets have been placed at your expense and it won't be the last. It's always a game of getting the ugly girl's hopes up. String her along and then break her heart while leaving her with the tab.

Maybe you'd have been nicer about it if you hadn't been so on edge lately.

Across the bar you don't notice Kraven watching you. It took all of his strength to not step in and punch the bastard so hard he'd never breathe right again. And when you kept talking down about yourself he quietly growled with rage. When you're his mate, he'll make sure you never feel less than gorgeous.

And you will be his mate. He's been following you, trying to find flaws, reasons to walk away, but he can't. You've picked up on him following you, indicating an alertness beyond most humans. Despite obviously being upset, you still helped anyone and everyone at the library without them even guessing you weren't feeling well, indicating your suitability for raising offspring.

And when you tried to release some of that stress in the privacy of your apartment? He breathed in the scent the next day when he broke into your apartment. It was all over your panties that now reside near his bed. It isn't quite "bitch-in-heat" but it still gets him going.

But first, he's going to follow those assholes who messed with you and make sure they never do so again.

Soon he'll have everything needed for your new home. He's determined to show his quality as a mate, as a provider, by building you a dream den. It'll have everything you've ever wanted and needed. Perfect for raising your children.

The only thing you might not like is his rule about no outside contact. At least not until you're fully his. But he's sure it won't take long. You're incredibly smart, kind and you'll know it's meant to be.

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Tagging: @alicedopey ; @delicatebarness ; @hederasgarden @icefrozendeadlyqueen ; @irishhappiness ; @kmc1989; @lokislady82 ; @ronearoundblindly

[rvmanoffbarnes]

I love you, I'm sorry || Bucky Barnes x reader! au)

Summary: James loved his wife, his son, and the life he had. However, lately he begins to remember his days as a sought-after bachelor in the past and all the opportunities and experiences he wasted.

One night, a magical being appears to him, who offers him to fulfill a wish, which will change his life completely.

Author's note: So i had this idea for a long time ago and i thought it'll be fun to see where this is going. This is some kind of au, where reader and Bucky are married. The magic being is Doctor Strange.

P.S: I love Bucky, and i know he will never do this 💌

《tags: angst, Bucky being a jerk, fluff, married life, arguments, curse words, a character that decide to step in 👀》

Bucky was tired.

He didn't know if he was tired of the long work day he had in the office, or if he was tired of returning to the routine. Sometimes he began to think what would happen to his life if he had made different decisions.

Don't get him wrong, he was sure of what he had chosen: he loved his son Theo, the sweet 5-year-old who looked up to him with a twinkle in his eye every time they spent time together. Bucky thought it was one of the best things that had ever happened to him. On the other hand, the job he had was good, considering that he must maintain a house, a family, pay the bills, put food on the table everyday and treat himself, his son and especially to his wife.

His dear wife Y/N, who had always been there for him. Who he loved with all his might. He can still remember the first time he met her. Well, the first time he actually saw her. Bucky used to be a heartthrob even back in the days when he went to college. He had a certain reputation with the ladies and never committed himself to a relationship; the black haired man wanted to enjoy his single days as much as he could. That's what he thought until he met Y/N, the sweet girl with glasses who helped him with exams and congratulated him every time he got an A. She had bewitched him from head to toe with her noble heart and sweet aura.

He had it all.

But he also had everything in the past.

A life without worries or bills to pay, girls who fought for his attention or to sit next to him in classes, a group of friends whom he still saw, but without seeing much because of their tight schedules. And well, he didn't want to sound like an idiot, but he didn't have anyone to send him to wash the dishes or change diapers. Plus, he always had someone to have a good time with, if he needed to... de-stress.

It wasn't that with Y/N ​​he didn't want any of that now. But he felt like the flame had gone out since she spent most of her time taking care of Theo, the house and resting from expecting her second child on the way.

Shaking off those thoughts of his head, James takes the keys from his pocket and begins to open the door to be greeted by the excited screams of his son, Theo.

"Daddy! You're finally here." Theo throws himself at him and Bucky reciprocates his hug.

"Hello champion" Bucky ruffles his hair and looks into the boy's blue eyes, who look at him adoringly "You didn't cause your mother any problems, did you?"

The little boy shakes his head.

"I helped her clean up the mess after I drew something for you," he mentions.

Bucky raises an eyebrow and looks at him softly.

"Yeah? I want to see it" Bucky says and the boy runs off to look for the draw.

Bucky sighs and puts his coat and briefcase aside to loosen his tie. All he wanted to do was finish the paperwork he needed by tomorrow without fail, take a shower, and sleep.

"Doll, where are you?" Bucky asks, running his hand over his face in frustration.

"In the kitchen!"

Bucky walks to the room and watches as his wife stirs something in the pot. The aroma of food invades the man's nostrils and his stomach growls with hunger. Y/N puts the spoon aside and hugs him lovingly, making sure her bump doesn't crush against the man's body.

“I missed you,” Y/N murmurs against his lips. Bucky accepts it and hugs her.

"Mhm. I'm really tired," he says barely. Y/N frowns and pouts.

"Long day at work?" He nods.

"And I still have to finish the paperwork," he mentions, rolling his eyes. Suddenly, a crazy idea - which he's sure young Bucky would like - occurs to him, he raises an eyebrow and lowers his hands to his wife's butt. "I was thinking that as long as I do the paperwork, and Theo falls asleep... I don't know, we could have fun in the office room."

Bucky starts kissing her neck, to which Y/N ​​giggles. She sighs and moves away from him a little.

"I have to finish doing the laundry and help Theo with his homework," she excuses herself. Bucky grimaces and can't hide the discontent on his face "But maybe later we can..."

"No, it's okay," Bucky says sharply. "I'd better take my plate to the office and eat there."

"Honey, I..."

“It’s okay, Y/N.” And with that, he grabs his plate of food and takes it to his office to lock himself in and not go out again.

"Theo!" Bucky exclaims.

His temperament overwhelms him, especially when he sees the drawing that his son had given him for him to appreciate. He had appreciated the gesture, since Bucky loved when his son drew him, but the man hadn't liked it at all when Theo decided to paint on the reports he had to correct for tomorrow.

Bucky enters the boy's room and he is surprised to see his father angry approaching him. He had never raised his voice at the boy like that, not even when he got into trouble. Y/N follows him when she hears the commotion from the bathroom.

"What happened?" the woman asks calmly. Bucky shows his sheet to the boy.

"Why did you draw on my work report papers? Why did you come into my office, Theo?" Bucky asks, about to lose his cool.

Theo purses his lips and his eyes fill with tears.

"How many times do I have to tell you not to come into my workspace without permission? Damn it!" Bucky screams and the little boy runs into his mother's arms.

"Bucky, this can be fixed, but please don't be so hard on him," Y/N asks, holding the child's head in her belly, in a motherly way.

Bucky shakes his head, laughing unamusedly.

"I have to hand these papers in tomorrow, Y/N! I'm going to have to stay late looking over them," Bucky says angrily. "Theo doesn't have to do this thing where he comes into the office and draws on my papers."

Theo starts to sob.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he says, choking back a cry.

But when James sees this, the man lets out a sigh through his nose and closes his eyes, trying to calm down. The black-haired man crouches down to the child's height and opens his arms. Theo hesitantly approaches him and lets his father's arms wrap around him.

"Oh, champion..." Bucky whispers "I'm sorry"

Y/N watches the scene. She knows his husband is under a lot of stress.

"Do you promise me you won't do it again?" Bucky says looking at the boy, who nods his head and sniffles. The man wipes his tears and smiles slightly. "Good boy. Sorry for yelling at you."

Bucky starts tickling him and the boy laughs in his arms. Y/N laughs when she sees the scene and touches her belly.

“Theo, you have to finish your homework and brush your teeth before going to sleep,” Y/N reminds him.

Theo nods and proceeds to look for his notebooks so his mother can help him. Bucky stands up and looks at his wife with a tired face.

"I have to finish this," he says and she leaves him, caressing his cheek before they both go to do their chores separately.

Bucky can't help but think about how tired he is as he goes to his workspace and locks himself in until he finishes the paperwork.

What would his young self be doing if he hadn't had children?

If he hadn't had Theo and his second baby on the way?

When Bucky comes out of the bathroom in the room he shares with his wife, he drags his feet across the soft carpeted floor and falls onto the bed, while his wife applies cream to his belly, which has grown quite quickly, indicating that there are a few weeks left to see their son be born.

The man just wants to sleep, because he must get up early. He turns off the light on his bedside table and lets his head fall back onto the pillows. He hears a playful giggle from his wife and notices how she turns off the light and approaches him, to begin kissing his neck and caressing his chest with her hand.

"Hi" she whispers.

She continues kissing his neck and Bucky lets her for a moment, even when he feels his wife's hand go down to his boxers. But he doesn't feel like continuing this, he doesn't know why. Maybe it's tiredness or... he no longer feels that way for the woman who caresses his manhood.

"I don't have the energy to continue, doll," he whispers, pushing her away from him and turning his back on her.

"Oh, I'm sorry..." she says, feeling embarrassed.

She raises the sheets until they cover her chest and looks at the ceiling. The truth is that she had also realized that something was distant between them, ever since she gave him the news that they were expecting another child together.

It's like Bucky doesn't see her with the same adoration as before and that makes her feel insecure. Especially when she didn't feel pretty or sexy with the pregnancy.

She closes her eyes, preventing another tear from falling, falling asleep.

Bucky can't.

He keeps thinking about what his life would be like if he hadn't married Y/N.

He loved her, yes. But he was bored of playing the role of the worried, caring, gentle and loving husband. He needed space.

He needed air, so he gets out of bed and watches the figure of the woman sleeping with one hand on her belly. Bucky leaves the room and goes downstairs to grab a beer from the refrigerator and go out to the backyard and sit on the bench to watch the starry night.

"Fuck" he mumbles.

He can't admit it.

No.

But....

"I wish I could go back to my past life" he wishes and takes a sip of his beer.

"Are you sure it's what your heart truly desires?" A voice surprises him.

"Fuck! Shit!" Bucky curses.

He stands up from his spot and notices a man floating in front of him and points the bottle at him, ready to defend himself.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?" James looks around and his eyes travel to the window of his room, where Y/N sleeps. "What did they do to my wife? My son?"

The man stops floating to walk on the grass in the yard. Bucky backs away on instinct and continues raising his bottle.

"James Buchanan Barnes" he says his full name, and danger scares him.

"How do you know my name?" He asks without believing it.

"My name is Stephen Strange, and I came here to grant you a wish" Bucky shakes his head, not believing it.

"Pff, sure. And I can fly" he says and raises the bottle, but Strange snaps his fingers and it disappears "What the hell...?"

"Now do you believe me?" Bucky swallows and thinks he's dreaming.

"Who the hell are you?"

"The man who can grant you your wish"

After explaining where it came from and why he was in front of him offering to grant him the wish, Bucky let out a heavy sigh and crossed his arms.

"So... you're saying that you can take me to another reality where I start my life again?" Strange nods calmly. Bucky grimaces. "What will happen to my life here? My job? My kids and my wife?"

Stephen replies: "If I take you to another reality, which in this case would be your past self, your life here will take a different direction. What you do there can completely change what happens here," he explains and moves his fingers to make a golden circle appear with scenes from Bucky's past appearing. The black-haired man approaches as if he were under a spell and remembers some things. "If you decide to go back and be in that reality, nothing you had here would be the same again."

Bucky smiles when he catches a moment where he was the most popular guy in college. Or when he dated Natasha, the most gorgeous woman in the school.

Bucky smiles falters when he sees Y/N studying with him for the exams. And when he carried his son Theo in his arms for the first time.

"Are you sure you want to leave everything you built here to go back to being the famous heartthrob Bucky Barnes?" Strange asks. Bucky swallows and finds himself in a dilemma with himself. On the one hand, he is bored with this domestic and routine life, he misses his life without ties and when he felt like he had everything in the palm of his hand. However, he loves his son Theo, his second child who is on the way and, above all, Y/N.

The woman he married. The woman he loved.

But right now, that didn't seem to care.

But Bucky wanted to have it all and more.

"Strange.... I want to go back" he decides after a moment.

"There will be no turning back," the magician warns him. "With a snap of my fingers, you will wake up in another reality and your life will be different."

And without hesitation, he didn't let himself be clouded by anything other than his desire to have it all again.

"I'm sure"

And Strange snapped his fingers, feeling disappointed once again in people's desire.

Bucky was having a blast.

So far he attended all the parties, went out more with his friends and could go on dates with any girl he wanted. He was taking advantage of that and more.

It was a starry and cool night and with his group they decided to go for some burgers where they always went to eat. Bucky's arm was around the shoulder of his former girlfriend, Natasha Romanoff. The hottest and most outgoing girl he had ever met.

"Today Bucky must buy the burgers" Sam says pointing his finger at him.

Bucky snorts and rolls his eyes in amusement, ignoring the strange emptiness he feels in his chest.

"I'll do it as long as someone deigns to come take our order," says the blue-eyed one, looking around in search of a waitress.

Everything stops in the moment for Bucky.

A couple of tables away was Y/N chatting animatedly with Yelena, Ava and John Walker. He knew John because the blonde was with him in his class. He was a jerk, but somehow he was in Y/N's group since he was dating Ava.

Y/N looks beautiful with her glasses.

When he had married her, he may have commented how funny she looked in them, and how the next day she had gone to the ophthalmologist to see if she could wear contact lenses. An idiotic comment on his part.

"Good evening, what are you going to order?" asks a deep voice coming to their table.

Bucky turns around and sees a boy with slightly long brown hair, below his ears. He remembers it because he was in Y/N's class. His name was Robert Reynolds.

The brunette had always tried to woo Y/N, even when she started dating Bucky. Even at their wedding, Bob was there with a hopeful and hurt look as he saw the girl he wanted marrying Bucky. The latter could only give him a victorious look when he kissed the girl to close their engagement.

"James...." the redhead shakes his arm. He reacts and turns to look at the boy who is looking at him expectantly. "What do you want to order?"

Bucky clears his throat.

"I want a burger and a soda," he asks, not really wanting to eat now. Bob notes it and gives them a flat smile.

"Coming right up, excuse me" he leaves and takes the menus from their hands.

Bucky follows him with his eyes to see how he leaves the menus on the table.

"Are you alright, Buck?" Steve asks him.

Bucky nods nonchalantly.

"Yeah, yeah. Everything's good"

After a few minutes, while Bucky looked out of the corner of his eye at the table where his wife was, Bob arrives with everyone's orders.

"Thank you," thanks Steve.

"Sure. Enjoy"

Bob leaves again and the black-haired man notices how he talks to the man at the cash register, taking off his apron, and then goes to Y/N's table. She smiles shyly at him and he sits next to her, putting his arm behind her shoulder. Bucky watches this scene in front of him with jealousy.

She was his wife. His Y/N.

"Bucky, are you sure you're okay? You seem angry" Natasha points out, stroking his hand. But he feels a different sensation, comparing it to when Y/N used to do it.

Bucky nods curtly.

"Why do you keep asking me if I'm okay?" He takes a French fry and bites into it. "I'm clearly okay!"

Bucky turns to look at the table and sees how the boys from the other table start walking towards the exit. He notices how Bob leaves his hand on Y/N's lower back and gets up from the table.

"Hey!" They turn to see him. He is frozen in place as he reacts without thinking. Y/N frowns holding Bob's hand.

"Um, the burger was good" he says in an attempt to save himself "Thank you".

John, Yelena and Ava laugh watching the reaction he had. Bob nods his head, looking at him strangely.

"You're welcome?"

Bucky stands for a few seconds before Natasha tugs at his jacket, asking him to sit down. The black-haired man watches as the other group leaves the restaurant, ignoring the rest's eyes on him.

"What is wrong with you?" The redhead asks him.

"Buck, you're acting strange" Sam says.

That's it. Strange.

Stephen could help him.

Bucky gets up again and hurries to chase the group.

"Sorry, i don't feel so good"

Bucky rushes out hearing the screams of his friends behind him, but he doesn't care.

He is a few meters away from Y/N who hugs Yelena, Ava and John goodbye. Those three go their separate ways, while Y/N returns to Bob's arms, who takes her cheeks and kisses her sweetly. Y/N hugs him around the waist and Bob imprisons her against him with his arms.

Bucky feels something in his chest and thinks about the wrong decision he made. He would have to be the one to kiss her. She married him. With Bucky she had a family. With her he had everything.

"Strange. Damn Strange, I need you to help me" he whispers.

"I told you the consequences and you still accepted," Strange says, seriously. "Just like everyone else."

Bucky sighs angrily and waves his hands in exasperation. "Yes, i know. But I regret this. I want to go back to my stupid job, see my son Theo again and meet my son who is on the way. And Y/N...." he whispers hurt "My Y/N"

Stephen shakes his head in dissaproval.

"Humans are all the same. They have everything in their hands and it's still not enough," he reflects. Bucky feels the desperation for his body "I can take you back, but not to go back. But so that you can see and learn from your own mistake"

Bucky nods desperate.

Strange snapped his fingers, and the go back to where it all started.

His house.

It's the same as when he left.

Only the yard is with more flowers and toys scattered around. Bucky felt the urge to pick everything up and wondered since when they had so many flowers. Y/N had told him how much she wanted to plant roses for the garden, but Bucky never liked the idea. Now there were flowers.

Bucky walks to the door and Stephen's voice stops him.

"Don't hurry," he says. "No one will be able to see us, so it's better if you come with me."

Bucky follows him and they enter the house, where the aroma of home-cooked food fills his nostrils. His eyes light up as he sees a child painting on the floor. His adorable face rises when he hears the keys to the door.

"Mom, daddy is here!" he exclaims. The next thing he sees surprises Bucky.

"Champion! I missed you so much!" Bob exclaims, receiving the child in his arms.

The black-haired man's face falls as soon as he sees Y/N receive him in her arms and kiss him lovingly. Like she did with him.

"Are you hungry?" she asks.

"I'm starving," he says over his lips. And he plays a little longer without his little son hearing "Maybe later you could give me my favorite dessert."

Y/N laughs sheepishly and punches him in the arm.

"Dad" his son intervenes. Bob ruffles his hair.

“Wait, why isn’t Y/N pregnant here?” Stephen looks down in shame.

"Today they are supposed to do it so that Y/N gets pregnant with a girl."

Bucky chokes a sob. Y/N always wanted two kids: a boy and a girl.

Bucky remembers that he wasn't all that excited to have a second child. He thought it was already a lot of responsibility with Theo, and a second would be chaotic.

But she looked so happy here.

"I guess I'm not coming back here, am I?" Strange nods.

"It was my decision. And I have to face it like a man," Bucky says. He sighs and looks one last time at the scene in front of his eyes. "He won't hurt her like I hurt her, right?"

Strange denies. "It wouldn't cross Bob's mind to change anything about his life with Y/N, here. It's more than enough"

And with that Bucky leaves with Strange feeling like a sword is stabbed into his chest.

[be-xkyy]

Hello! Since I read your Yandere stories, my head began to ask these questions, how many children do our yanderes want to have for us? Would they get a little jealous when our babies are feeding from us?

Hii Dear Anon!

First of all I'm glad you liked my content, thank you! And secondly, your question is very good Anon, although this will be a bit short, I hope you like it! 🖤

How many children would the yanderes have with reader? Would they be jealous of their children?

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Yandere Farmer Link

This man definitely wants lots of kids, five or six at the very least and about nine or ten at the most, I think he'd mostly prefer to have boys (since he thinks they're easier to handle) but he wouldn't mind having one or two girls, he has a big farm so he doesn't worry about space and he makes enough money from the cattle and crops to support them all.

As for being jealous of his children when they're breastfed or jealous in general, I don't think so. I honestly don't think he's the "Stay away son, she's mine" type but he also wouldn't let you have much time with the kids especially if they're boys since if you spoil them too much he thinks you'll make them "weak" and "mama's boys" which he doesn't want, so when they learn to walk he'll take them with him to do the farm chores.

"The kids are coming to work with me today. What if they're three and four? That's the perfect age to start getting to know everything, don't question me."

Yandere Cowboy Link

He would want at least 3 children, two boys and a girl, although he might want more, depending on his mood.

And regarding getting jealous when watching his child eat or in general, I think he would get a little jealous, although he would try to be playful and downplay it, saying things like "He's a little chubby, don't you think you feed him too much?" Or "Look, it's 1 PM, isn't it time for a nap? Come on, son, it's time to sleep." Of course you don't let him take the baby away, it's not his bedtime yet.

"Baby doll, when I was a child I was fed and put to sleep at any hour even if I didn't want to, and look at me, everything turned out fine!"

Yandere Dilf Link

This poor man wants to have two girls, two little princesses that look like you, he already has one son so you'd rather have girls but he doesn't care if one is a boy or if they both end up being boys (although not having a daughter that looks like you would break his heart) he's one of the few yanderes that promises to have only two children and keeps it. He doesn't force you to have more even if the ones you give birth to aren't the gender he wanted.

Well now I don't think he would get jealous of his children while breastfeeding, rather I think he would touch the baby's head while breastfeeding even leaving kisses on its chubby cheek, although seeing you breastfeeding might excite him a little (he has a thing for tits and milk, okay?) but he wouldn't try anything at that moment on the contrary he would try to hide it.

"You're so pretty little girl... look at that little nose and those round cheeks... you're so precious sweetheart... just like your mommy"

Yandere Sugar Daddy Link

Another one who wants to have two kids, only he wants to have a pair a boy and a girl, no more kids, just two. Not one more, not one less. I think he would have favoritism with his girl and the boy would be more attached to you as a result.

He would get jealous, he doesn't even want to hide it, although he would be more mean if the one you were breastfeeding was the boy, he would stare from the leather chair right in front of you, watch you rub the baby's head while he eats and make comments like "You don't rub my head when I suck on your boobs, don't rub his head either" or "You know there are high end milks on the market made from breast milk, why don't we try giving him that instead of your milk?" if you scold him or look at him the wrong way he would throw up his hands in surrender and say in an offended voice.

"Hey! Don't look at me like that! You should be grateful that I care, that brat will make your tits sag!"

[judesmoonbeauty]

Nica Schwartz Bond Story 8: "A Game With You"

Fan translation. Not 100% accurate. While I appreciate your support and welcome re-blogs, please do not repost my translations elsewhere. Thank you for you support! ☾.

Nica: A game? Sounds good, but do you think you can beat me, the brains of Vogel?

Nica: Chess, cards…..the winner’s plain as day. Yeah, this might be fair.

Nica: “Whoever gets shaken even for a moment by the opponent, loses” — Okay, okay, I won’t use my ability.

Nica may be quoting from a book here. I was thinking it could be from "The Art of War", but I couldn't locate such a quote. It would be cool though since Nica is a strategist. If anyone knows the quote, please let me know!

Nica: You wanna go first? Hmmm, as you wish. Then — let’s get started!

Options:

Hold his hand Nica: You’re probably the only one who’d hold my hand of your own accord.

Kiss on his cheek Nica: Oh? Where’d you learn such an adorably childish kiss?

Stare at him Nica: ………Haha…….You shouldn’t get embarrassed and look away.

Nica: Hey, did ya notice? It’s the first time you’ve ever made a move on me.

Nica: I thought if played the game, I could lure you in because you hate losing.

Nica: Haha, your face’s beet red….See, you can’t beat me.

[Bond Levels Master List]

Tag list: @sh0jun @theimaginativelyreticent @sapphire-323 @velisle @nateko @greatwitchsongsinger @injudescoat @aeyumicore @complexivelovely @yuoi-the-magnificent @drachonia

If you wish to be added to the tag list and are 18+ YO, feel free to comment below.

[lolitasangel]

Noah x Reader

Summary- Noah teaches you how to play guitar

Tw-none! Fluff

An- it’s short but later on I might continue this into something a little longer, if you ever want to be tagged in any of my writing please let me know, I never know I should tag or not (that’s if you want to be tagged no pressure!)😅🫶🏼

————Enjoy🫶🏼

• Noah definitely sits you down in his lap, your back pressed to his chest, all cozy and warm with him.

•You had seen him your shared bedroom playing a couple of chords, he was so focused on the rhythm he didn’t notice you walking in and watching him silently.

• “That sounds really nice, baby” you say as you take a seat next to him on the bed. You had laid your head on his shoulder as to not get in the way of his playing.

•”Thank you, angel baby, you wanna learn a few chords?” Noah asks, looking down at you cuddled up next to him. You have told him before how you loved the sound of the guitar and how you would love to learn but you didn’t think you could do it.

•”that’s okay, honey, I think it’s best if you just play” you chuckled, you loved seeing him use his creativity come to life, especially when he was home.

•”come on, it’ll be fun, I’ll teach you a few easy chords” Noah says, moving the guitar out of his lap and moving you over. Placing the guitar back in your lap, pulling you closer to his chest.

•”This is an a-minor note, and this is a g-note” he says, showing you the two different, seemingly easy notes. Noah moved his hand out the way for you to give it a try. It felt a little weird at first with your fingers against the fret or guitar, but you got used to it.

•”There you go, baby, and now the is an e-note” Noah guides you gently to play the few chords in order. You slowly try switching between chords but found that was a little tricky.

•”it’s okay, love, it takes time to get used to” Noah speaks up, giving you a kiss to your hair, pulling you closer.

•”We can practice more later on” Noah says, placing the guitar on the side of the bed out the way. “I wanna cuddle a bit” he says chuckling.

•Every once in a while Noah will call you up to his office so he can teach you more, he loved seeing the determination on your face when it came to practicing a new chord or a new melody.

——

Tags- @fadingintothegrey @fadingangelwisp @flowery-mess 🫶🏼🫶🏼

[starberry-cupcake]

I'm back!! and I have a bunch of chapters this time, so let's see how I do with this one.

previously, in nona del 9:

this happened

this is the general tag

CHAPTER 13 (third house skull for coronabeer)

the sticky notes with little giraffes my sister had gifted me to read nona ran out so I had to get a couple packets of colorful stickies to continue

I bought two packs of 200 each and was like 'this for sure is gonna be more than enough'

I'm not sure of that now, after first use

I think nona might appreciate the colors (and the previous giraffes)

even if they're not tlt aesthetic

ANYWAY, we're leaving the meting with BOE in the not-so-secret-very-obvious-actually meeting place

nona apparently all along knew that el machetes was actually la machetes and her name is our lady of the passion aka pash

coronabeer asks her how she knows that and nona says it's the way she moves her bones

camilla asks coronabeer to let her see "her"

and insists, saying she can help "her"

by this point I'm, of course, thinking about judith

turns out, it is judith

camilla asks if judith is part of the negotiation, to which coronabeer responds that she is not, she's "their ticket out of there"

judith is in an awful state, btw

she's doing really badly, hooked to stuff, fed through tubes, looking like hell

nona feels bad for her

I feel really bad for her

what are you doing to that wet mouse

with no necromancers around, she's the only one who can help herself, and she can't always do it

let's remember coronabeer was a fake necromancer

and, apparently, varun is hurting her

nona states again that she doesn't like the sunglasses and, since camolive are busy, I'm gonna take note of that myself

camolive (which I had stated before that I thought was actually palmolive right now, but here it's still undetermined) asks for some space to work and help judith in this rudimentary medical setting they have her in

coronabeer is being very tsundere about it all

she's acting like she's not worried about the love of her life

but nona is like "I see you"

coronabeer clocks palmolive being himself and not camilla

(I CALLED IT)

palmolive says he hopes she didn't mess up judith on purpose to get him to show himself

you weren't subtle, my man

wearing sunglasses inside like bono

coronabeer says she won't tell anyone about palmolive and camilla sharing the body apartment

she tells palmolive about how camilla, judith and her bonded in summer camp detention with BOE

and how she was grieving for him but, after meeting harrow, she was fine, so she assumed camilla had always been right about the bones thing

the gall of thinking camilla can be wrong

judith can do half of the job of healing herself and needs palmolive to help her with the rest, while she comes in and out of making sense

nona reminds palmolive about the timer

coronabeer reminds judith where she is, but she sometimes gets fuzzy with it

judith tells them that if they say they have been coerced, she'll tell everyone that they didn't meant it

I think we're past that point, but hope is the last thing to lose, judith

coronabeer holds her hand while judith talks about how they're using her to go against her house and when coronabeer says she isn't making sense, she responds that coronabeer hasn't made sense in months

judith says her hands are too filthy to save camilla

nona thinks it's funny to think of someone having to save camilla

same, tbh

and then, she talks to nona

"Ninth, where is the mercy of the Tomb? Where is your sword in the coffin? Who are your masters now, and who do you master? Where is my cavalier, Reverend Daughter? Where is yours? Because I saw her in the waves —she was there in the gray water— I saw them all—they hurt me—where is my hunger? I eat and eat and eat without surcease, my green thing, my green-and-breathing thing..."

SO

I think my tally of this being harrow's body might be correct

not so sure about gideon's soul now, though, if judith is out there seeing her?

in the river? maybe?

she says "in the gray water" so maybe it is the river

maybe she can access the river in her almost-dead state?

or perhaps the one she saw was martita and not gideon?

maybe she could see all of the ghosties, because she said "I saw them all"

how does she know about gideon's sword in the coffin, though?

AGAIN, PLEASE DON'T ANSWER ANY OF MY QUESTIONS

LET ME FAIL

after that, she screams, palmolive puts her to sleep and then he switches with camilla

he puts her/his hand on her shoulder, which is cute

coronabeer then understands that camolive switch places and doesn't like it much

she swears by yandere twin that she won't tell about this and reminds camilla that she has kept her secrets before

wonder what yandere twin is doing rn

swimming in the river maybe idk

kissing dr john's ass and all that

or maybe not, if dr reverend emperor john is out there taking his monologue show on the road with alleged harrow-not-harrow

camilla offers coronabeer an out from BOE but coronabeer is too deep into judith to leave her

she frames it in a tsundere way, like "if something happens to judith, how am I getting out of here?"

I see you coronabeer, you're doomed

you love that wet mouse

coronabeer tells camilla "you and I don't own our own souls"

to which camilla replies "My soul's mine. You give yourself away to anyone who doesn't want you."

coronabeer says she always had a soft spot for palmolive

to which camilla says "you were part of the lie"

I think this has to do with the sixth house situation

nona, trying to make things less tense, makes things even more tense, as a treat

she asks about the water and the green thing that judith mentioned

both camilla and coronabeer look at her as if she was a ghost

coronabeer says "The Captain didn't say anything when you came into the room. She only screamed."

??????????????????????????????????

I had to go back, because judith responded to things palmolive and coronabeer said

after nona touches palmolive's arm and reminds him of the timer, judith asks where she is and coronabeer answers

they have a back and forth there

coronabeer even says she must have some eight in her blood because of the melodrama

she talks about the green thing and the water right after her and coronabeer where having a back and forth on whether they had or hadn't lived

and after she talks to nona/harrow, is when palmolive makes her sleep

so, at which point was this?????

if this is some sixth sense situation, coronabeer and palmolive shouldn't have been able to answer things judith said

and coronabeer very much did

I'm gonna trust they're not gaslighting nona and that something went on here

maybe they meant the screaming was only in the part where judith talks to nona specifically

we'll see

DON'T TELL ME

CHAPTER 14 (we've got the tomb back!)

coronabeer offers to drop nona at school and nona is so excited about it that she doesn't even consider the dangers of jumping out of the van and leaving camilla and pyrrha there

she thinks it's a selfish thing that won't have dangerous consequences because they have a code for when dangerous consequences are imminent

still, gotta put a child barrier on this one

they get spare masks and coronabeer offers nona her hood

coronabeer says that she has as much right to nona as camilla does and that nona isn't that much younger than camilla is, anyway

when nona says that she loves camilla, coronabeer asks if she loves her romantically

not in those adult words I just used, mind you, she says "Do you love love Camilla? In-love-with Camilla?"

use your grown up words, coronabeer

nona, on the other hand, feels out of her depth when spoken to like an adult

so she changes subject, telling coronabeer that camilla isn't coronabeer's type

coronabeer wants to talk about herself, which is a subject she's very passionate about

but it backfires like crazy when nona calls her out on acting flirty without meaning towards we suffer, wanting camilla to hug her but not in a sexy way and being in love with "th—"

this is judith, we're talking about judith

coronabeer is upset at being dissected emotionally and nona says "You shouldn't ask me things if you don't want me to tell you the truth about them"

girllllllllllllllllllllllll

I want this as a welcome mat in my house

coronabeer getting owned like chad over here

third house annihilation, one by one

coronabeer thinks she should ask nona about whether she's pretty and ask yandere twin about emotional things, because that way she'd hear what she wants

this girl would have been a menace with social media

anyway, coronabeer and nona get to school and angel teacher is just coming in

angel teacher is looking worse every time the camera comes back to her

angel teacher is taken aback by coronabeer but doesn't let her meet nona's gang because she's carrying a gun

nona is very disappointed at this turn of events

coronabeer says she's camilla's partner and angel teacher is again surprised at this

nona thinks coronabeer is nearly pretty enough for camilla

nobody is perfect enough for camilla, though

also, over my dead body, coronabeer

go chase your wet mouse, thank you very much

could I beat her in a fight? no, but could make a very compelling power point presentation? absolutely

boobs, hair and a sword vs boobs, hair and a solid dissertation

nona thinks coronabeer should have said nona was dating her instead, because camilla doesn't need the street cred as much as she does

coronabeer says she knows what nona is, even if they refuse to see it, and that she envies nona more than anyone in the universe

I mean, yeah, childish wonder and relentless will to believe in the best of people sounds great right about now

nona is steven universe

CHAPTER 15 (seventh house skull again!!!!! very sus!!!!)

everyone's kind of fighting about having seen coronabeer and sriracha girlie was worried for nona's safety

nona asks her not to be sad if something happens to her

sriracha girle also has the angel teacher update, says she was dropped off by a car this time

sriracha girlie considers this an additional protection towards her, to which nona asks why is angel teacher so special

great question, imo

apparently, everyone but nona, sriracha girlie and kevin are leaving for lunch

main teacher is very confused about this until sriracha girlie informs her that there's gonna be a broadcast

main teacher asks angel teacher about it

(angel teacher's name is apparently aim)

(as in aim for the door if they come for you, angel teacher)

main teacher asks if they're gonna start arrests and they decide to move the conversation to another location, away from the kids

sriracha girlie knows more than they do, though, but ok

we need to protect kevin from this

we love kevin

nona is weird with food again, this time eats only ice cubes and a pencil

at this point, I'm realizing it isn't just me thinking she's particular with food, she indeed is particular with food and also very weird about it

she behaves exactly like our puppy who eats what she shouldn't and we have to be looking at her with 26 eyes because she hunts for snails and pieces of wood

nona asks sriracha girlie what the broadcast is about

as you might have guessed, it's about necromancers

nona tells sriracha girlie that she knows she's been at the park at night and sriracha girlie tells her not to go there, ever

she confirms that the "you-know-what" were killed

says that someone high up took them before they burned, with a shot to the head

sriracha girlie says she goes with two others, nona guesses it's honesty and born in the morning

nona says "Born in the Morning" and sriracha girlie corrects her and says "You mean Born in the Morning"

I don't see how that's different? neither does nona?

???????????

hope this is just a nona pronunciation thing I can't get in written form and not yet another ortus vs gideon thing, I can't take another one of those

it's written exactly the same, once without and once with emphasis

nona asks sriracha girlie if she's with BOE but sriracha girlie also hates them

she calls them traitors but also says they sell them guns

which...idk what to think of that

I mean, I understand the traitors bit, since they're currently in dialogue with necromancers

but selling guns to civilians is definitely A Move from BOE

sriracha girlie talks about how her family was killed and how she trains with a sword because she doesn't want to be caught off guard ever again like her brother was

while also saying that she wishes nona was her sister

god, this is gonna end terribly

sriracha girlie, I don't know about your future

this looks bad

so, nona tells sriracha girlie "her Secret"

????????????????????

sriracha girlie recommends her a clinic where angel teacher works

nona asks her not to tell anyone about it because she's the only one who knows

I assume this Secret isn't that she's potentially one of two people connected with the Ninth because sriracha girlie hasn't stabbed her yet

right in front of kevin's salad

we love kevin

I also don't think it's about her having memory loss, because pyrrha, camilla and the entire BOE know that, and nona says sriracha girlie is the only one who knows

unless she meant only one except for her people

but it wouldn't make sense for her to just say "Secret" and not elaborate, if that was the case??? in her recount of events????

also, why does she need a clinic for it????

nona can heal herself, she can't have a Secret related to anything physically damaging that she'd need a clinic for

the only thing she's got going on is memory loss and being potentially one of two people

neither of which are things nobody else knows about but sriracha girlie and nona

she's not having a baby or having a surprise degenerative disease

am I making too much of a mess out of something obvious?

DON'T TELL ME

I feel like this book is a lot more difficult to grasp than the other two, tbh, when it should be the opposite, because now I know things

it's the first time in which I know supposedly more than the protagonist, but it's the hardest one

it feels so much more complicated to me and makes me feel so stupid so often

in any case, nona falls asleep

none of this sounds like it's gonna be a great time for either of these two

and I don't think trusting someone who has a vendetta against your people is a good idea, nona

if push comes to shove, you're gonna go against each other, and what are we gonna do then???

JOHN 8:1

"but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives."

this is the part in which jesus does the famous "Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her"

alleged harrow says her body is a mystery to her and that she'd collapse and fall asleep where she fell and wake wherever dr reverend emperor john put her

alleged!harrow which could be ice cube barbie, for all I know

WAIT

should I put ice cube barbie as another potential occupant of harrow's body as nona?

was there a third option nobody thought of because nobody knew about ice cube barbie but harrow and gideon?

could nona be ice cube barbie without memory?

could they have switched when book 2 ended inside harrow in the vacant tomb?

dr reverend emperor john god-forbid is, like I said, taking his monologue on the road

last time we met up with the monologue, lyctor team had decided to stream the necromancy stuff to put it out in the open

like anyone who has ever depended on social media to do a job knows, when you're trying to make something take off, it doesn't happen

it doesn't matter how good the content is, the algorithm is awful everywhere

so they got like 5 viewers

until one of the people the invited live turned out to be a flat earther and THEN it picked up

after that, people came in for him to heal them and he says he enjoyed playing jesus

he said the government said "this is a cult"

WHICH, YOU KNOW

SOUNDS VERY CORRECT

he says M brought in a nun, gonna assume M is mercygirl and the nun might be anastasia?? anastasia sounds like she was a nun, I mean, look at the ninth

"You've got two scientists and an engineer and a nun and a lawyer and a banker and a cop and an artist. That's not a defence force, that's a cop and six different kinds of nerd."

new meme format just dropped

sorry but I need to try it out

(should I post that separately, I wonder)

it really is a great meme format, dr john, I'll give you that

thank you for your minuscule service

"A and M were making black jokes about taking volunteers from the crowd for the skeleton army. One day we ran out of time before those jokes could become suggestions."

not to bring in star trek again but

so, dr reverend emperor john kills every animal in a big ass radius to build a bone wall around them

he, of course, has a lot of excuses for it, as he usually does

I have another data meme for that, but I'll save it for another time

"They treated us like we'd done some kind of huge crime."

"I wanted to talk about you"

again here with the "you" which clearly cannot be harrow

at least not how we know her

alleged!harrow not!harrow says "I still love you" and he says "that's a good one" and cries

I don't feel bad about him crying one little bit

AND THAT'S ALL!!! sorry that this one is so long, I wanted to make up for lost time T_T

[jungkoode]

OFF-LABELS | O6

→ PAIRING : Med Student!Hoseok x F!Reader (Brother’s Best Friend AU)

→ RATING: Explicit, 18+.

→ DATE POSTED: February 18th, 2025. (Hobi’s birthday special — 2 chapters! <3)

→ SUMMARY: You’ve spent four years convincing yourself that your brother’s best friend is just being nice when he remembers your coffee order, quizzes you on neuroanatomy, or lets his touch linger a second too long. Because there’s no way that the golden boy of Seoul National’s medical program might actually be flirting with you. Especially when he keeps saying things that could be perfectly innocent… if only he didn’t say them in that voice.

→ TAGS: second person perspective, female reader, medical school au, brother’s best friend trope, age gap (4 years), pining, touch starved, overthinking reader, confident hoseok, gentle dom hoseok, medical terminology as flirting (lmao), study sessions, domestic moments, innocent (but not really), plausible deniability king hoseok, anxiety, internal monologue, guilty crushes, subtle teasing, emotional edging, gentle manipulation, praise kink undertones, intellectual attraction, competency kink, hand fixation, voice kink, medical intern hoseok, first year med student reader, home setting, casual intimacy, unresolved sexual tension (for now), secret attraction, nervous rambling, self-doubt, intrusive thoughts, anatomy lessons with ulterior motives, competent hoseok, flustered reader, close proximity, accidental touches that aren’t accidents, virgin!reader.

→ CONTENT in this chapter: Late night study interruptions, chipmunk-themed socks that need mending, educational multitasking, thorough anatomy reviews, parasympathetic nervous system demonstrations, and party background noise that nobody seems to notice. | study breaks, bedroom setting, party backdrop, casual intimacy, domestic moments, academic testing, nervous system responses, physiological reactions, academic authority, late night encounters, casual clothing, short skirt horny trigger, theoretical demonstrations, practical applications, fingering (f).

→ MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQ | WORDCOUNT: 2,6k

→ MINI SERIES: PREVIOUS | NEXT

→ A/N: Remember when studying used to be boring? Yeah, me neither anymore. Shoutout to everyone who's ever had their anatomy revision get thoroughly derailed. Also, apparently I have a thing for making medical terminology sound… interesting. My search history is just getting more concerning at this point. Do I care? Not really. You shouldn’t either, this is only going down south.

PLAYLIST

The knock startles you.

It’s soft, almost hesitant, but it cuts through the quiet hum of your desk lamp and the faint noise of Caleb’s party downstairs. You glance at the door, your heart already climbing into your throat. 

You don’t need to ask who it is. You know.  

Still, you move slowly, chair scraping against the floor as you stand. Your bare feet pad across the carpet, and when you open the door—of course—it’s him.  

Hoseok leans against the doorframe like he has all the time in the world, one hand tucked casually into the pocket of his baggy jeans. His green sweater hangs loose on his frame, but it does nothing to hide the way his shoulders fill it out. He looks relaxed. Effortless. Like he belongs here in a way you never quite feel like you do.  

“Hi,” you manage, voice barely above a whisper.  

His eyes meet yours, dark and unreadable under the soft glow of the hallway light. 

“Hi,” he says back, and it’s so casual—so steady—that it makes your own greeting feel ridiculous in comparison.  

Your cheeks burn as you step back instinctively, retreating to your desk like that will somehow shield you from him. 

You sit down too quickly, fumbling with your highlighter as if that’s what you were doing before he knocked—studying, not thinking about him or Thursday or the way his thumb had pressed against your tongue like he owned it.  

(He hasn’t said anything about it since then. No mention of Thursday beyond a vague text asking how your paper was coming along. Nothing to suggest that he’s been thinking about it as much as you have.)  

Your hand trembles slightly as you drag the highlighter across your notes, leaving a thick streak of neon yellow that bleeds into the next line of text.  

“You’re gonna ruin your notes like that.”  

You jump at his voice—closer now—and whip around to find him standing right behind you. 

When did he move? How did he move without you noticing?  

“I—” Your words catch in your throat as his head tilts slightly, studying your ruined page over your shoulder. His scent—clean and warm and always bergamot—wraps around you like a second skin, making it impossible to focus on anything else.  

“You’re too heavy-handed,” he murmurs, voice low enough that it feels like it’s meant just for you.

His hand reaches out—not for the highlighter but for you—and hooks a finger under the thin strap of your tank top.  

Your breath hitches as he slides it down your shoulder with deliberate care, his finger grazing your skin in its descent. The touch is light—barely there—but it leaves a trail of heat in its wake that makes your pulse stutter wildly in your chest.  

“You should use lighter strokes,” he says, like this is normal conversation, like his hand isn’t now tracing down your arm to where it rests on the desk.

His fingers brush yours briefly before continuing their path downward—to your hip, then lower still—to the bare skin of your thigh where your skirt ends.

You can’t move. Can’t breathe. Your entire body feels locked in place under his touch, every nerve ending attuned to the slow slide of his hand against your skin.

“Hoseok…” His name comes out shakier than you intended, barely audible over the pounding in your ears.

“Hmm?” 

He doesn’t look at you—his gaze is still fixed on your notes—but his hand pauses just above your inner thigh, thumb brushing idly against the sensitive skin there.

“You’re…” You swallow thickly, trying to find words that don’t sound insane or desperate or both.

“I’m what?” He finally glances at you then, head tilting slightly as if this is just idle curiosity—as if he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

You shake your head quickly, dropping your gaze back to the desk because looking at him feels impossible right now.

“Nothing,” you mumble.

His lips twitch—not quite a smile but close—as his thumb traces slow circles against your skin.

“Relax,” he says softly, almost teasingly. “I’m just helping.”

Helping? Helping what? Your brain scrambles for context—for any explanation that makes this feel less dangerous than it does right now—but all you can focus on is how close his hand is getting to—

“You’re tense,” he observes quietly, fingers sliding another inch higher.

Your breath catches again as heat floods every inch of exposed skin.

“I’m not,” you say too quickly.

He hums—a low sound that vibrates through the small space between you—and leans closer until his lips are close, way too close. 

“You are.”

Lips brush against the shell of your ear, soft and fleeting, but it’s enough to send a violent shiver down your spine. The shaky exhale you let out is mortifying, and you clamp your lips shut immediately, praying he didn’t notice.  

(He noticed. Of course, he noticed.)  

But Hoseok doesn’t comment on it. 

Instead, he pulls back just enough to return his attention to the desk in front of you, his gaze flicking lazily over your notes like this is all perfectly normal. Like his hand isn’t sliding higher under the hem of your skirt, fingers skimming the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.  

“What are you studying?” he asks casually, as if his knuckles aren’t brushing against the edge of your panties now.  

You open your mouth to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled sort of sound that doesn’t resemble words at all.  

“Hmm?” His head tilts slightly, and you feel the faintest press of his lips against your shoulder—a kiss so light it might as well be a breath. “Cat got your tongue, Chip?”  

“N-no,” you stammer, forcing yourself to focus on the question. “I’m—um—neurology.”  

“Neurology,” he repeats thoughtfully, his tone almost approving. 

His fingers trace slow motions against the fabric covering your slit, and you tremble so violently that your knee knocks into the desk.  

“Relax,” he murmurs again, voice low and coaxing. “You’re usually so good at multitasking.”  

You don’t know what to say to that—don’t know how to respond when his fingers press just slightly harder against you, finding the dampness already pooling there.  

“Hoseok…” His name escapes in a broken whisper before you can stop it.  

“Shh.” His thumb strokes the outside of your thigh soothingly while his ring and middle fingers continue their slow exploration over the thin cotton barrier. “Tell me about the vagus nerve.”  

Your brain short-circuits completely at that. “W-what?”  

“The vagus nerve,” he repeats patiently, like he’s talking to a particularly slow student. “What does it control?”  

“I—” You gasp as his fingers dip lower, teasing along the edge of your panties now. “It—it controls…”  

“Come on,” he coaxes, leaving another kiss on your shoulder before resting his chin lightly there. “You know this.”  

“Autonomic functions,” you manage shakily, though it sounds more like a question than an answer.  

He hums softly in approval as his fingers brush over your clit. You mewl at the contact, thighs clenching instinctively around his hand, but he doesn’t stop—doesn’t even falter as he continues:  

“And those would include…?”  

Your mind is blank—completely blank save for the overwhelming sensation of his long fingers doing small little circle motions with deliberate care.

 “I—I don’t know,” you choke out finally.  

“You don’t know?” He tsks softly under his breath, almost disappointed. “Chip… I thought you were better than this.”  

“I am!” The protest slips out before you can stop it, but it’s hard to sound convincing when your voice is shaking so badly.  

“Then prove it.” His fingers press harder against your clit now—an all-too-knowing touch that makes you jolt in your seat—and he chuckles quietly at your reaction. “Tell me what the vagus nerve controls.”  

You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, trying desperately to remember something—anything—that will get you through this without completely falling apart under him. 

“H-heart rate,” you stammer finally. “And—and digestion.”  

“Good girl,” he murmurs approvingly, circling your clit once more before sliding lower again. His fingers tease at your entrance now. “See? I knew you could do it.”  

You whimper softly as his lips brush against your shoulder again—this time lingering just long enough for you to feel the faintest scrape of teeth against skin before he pulls away.

“I like this skirt,” he murmurs suddenly, voice still maddeningly casual even as his hand moves with devastating precision between your legs.

Your eyes snap open at that—not because of what he said but because of how he said it: low and amused and just a little too knowing.

“It’s cute,” he continues conversationally, like this is small talk over coffee instead of whatever this is right now. 

His fingers slide back up to circle your clit again—slowly, lazily—as if to punctuate his next words: 

“Easy access.”

Your breath catches sharply at his words, mind reeling as you try to process what he's implying. But before you can even attempt to form a response, he continues:

"You should wear it more often." His voice stays light, even as his fingers continue their torturous circles against your clit.

"W-what?" The word comes out breathless, uncertain.

"Around me," he clarifies softly, and there's something darker in his tone now. “I mean."

You open your mouth to respond—to say what, you're not sure—but the words die in your throat as his other hand slides up your side, fingertips ghosting over your ribs before cupping your breast through the thin fabric of your tank top.

"Now," he continues, like he hasn't just short-circuited your entire nervous system, "tell me about parasympathetic responses."

Your brain scrambles to catch up as his thumb brushes over your nipple, the fabric doing nothing to hide how it pebbles under his touch. Because of course you’re not wearing a fucking bra in your room.

“I—what?"

"Parasympathetic responses," he repeats patiently, though there's an edge of amusement in his voice now. "Basic anatomy, Chip. You should know this."

His fingers pinch your nipple lightly through the cotton, and you have to bite your lip to stifle a moan. "I do—I do know it."

"Then explain it to me." His other hand hasn't stopped moving between your legs, drawing slow, maddening circles that make it impossible to think straight. "What happens when the parasympathetic nervous system is stimulated?"

You squeeze your eyes shut, trying desperately to remember anything from your textbooks. 

You shouldn't be doing this with him. Not when he helps grade your practicals, not when he'll be observing your clinical rotations next year. But the thought only makes you wetter.

"It—it causes..." You gasp as his fingers dip lower again, teasing at your entrance. "...relaxation."

"Mm." He sounds pleased, though you can't tell if it's with your answer or with the way you're trembling under his touch. "And what else?"

"Increased..." Your voice breaks as his thumb flicks over your nipple again. "Increased blood flow."

"Where?" His breath is warm against your ear, and you can hear the smile in his voice—gentle but knowing. Always knowing.

"To—to..."

You can't say it. Can't form the words when his fingers are right there, proving your point with devastating accuracy.

"To?" he prompts softly, and now he's definitely teasing you—waiting for you to say it out loud while his hands continue their merciless exploration of your body.

Your face burns hotter. "You know where."

"Do I?" His innocent tone doesn't match the way his fingers press harder against your clit, making your hips jerk involuntarily. "I think you should tell me. For academic clarity."

His fingers slip past the damp cotton barrier of your panties without ceremony, long digits sliding through your slick with a soft, obscene sound that makes your entire body flush. 

“Ah—Hoseok—”

“Shh.” His breath fans across your ear as his middle and ring fingers begin a slow, methodical glide through your folds. “You were explaining parasympathetic vascular responses. Continue.”

His other hand moves to the hem of your tank top, lifting it slowly until both breasts are exposed to the cool air. Your nipples immediately tighten, and you hear his breath catch slightly.

“Poor circulation here though.” His palm cups your left breast, thumb rolling your nipple into a stiff peak. “Look at these.”

You don’t want to look. Can’t look. But his hand slides to your throat, tilting your head back until your neck arches over the chair’s headrest. The new angle forces your chest forward, breasts fully on display as he hums approvingly.

“Beautiful. Like two rosebuds blooming just for me,” he whispers, voice thick with something you’ve never heard from him before—something dangerously close to worship. “Keep talking, Chip.”

His hand returns to cup one breast, thumb circling the sensitive peak as you whine his name.

"Hoseok, please—"

His lips find your pulse point, pressing a soft kiss against the frantic beat there. "Come on, Chip. If you pass, I'll let you cum."

You mewl as both his fingers slide into you with ease, your walls clenching around the intrusion desperately.

"Mm, excellent lubrication," he notes, voice steady despite how his fingers curl inside you. "Explain why that's happening."

"It's—ah—" You try to focus as his palm grinds against your clit, his other hand still teasing your nipple. "I can’t—Hoseok—”

"Shh." His lips trail up the column of your throat, pausing to suck a bruise just below your ear. "You wanna cum, don’t you?"  

The stretch burns deliciously, his long fingers crooking to stroke deeper. "Then answer."  

Your nails dig into the desk, textbook pages crinkling under your grip. "T-the hypothalamus—"  

"Mm." He nips your earlobe. "Specifics."  

"Triggers—" A gasp as his palm grinds harder. “Triggers pelvic nerve activation—"  

"Which causes?" His thumb flicks your nipple sharply.  

"Blood vessel dilation!" You nearly scream it, back bowing off the chair as he scissors his fingers. "Increased—fuck—blood flow and—"  

"Secretions," he finishes for you, voice gone rough at the edges. "Good girl."  

"Please," you gasp, walls fluttering around his fingers. "Please, I can't—"

"Passed," he murmurs, and that's all it takes.

It hits like a seizure—violently, vulgarly, your cunt fluttering around his fingers as you grind mindlessly against his palm. He works you through it with brutal precision, his free hand pinching your nipple now as he mutters filth against your sweat-slick throat:  

"Look at you. Dripping like a melted marshmallow. So sweet."  

When the last aftershock fades, he withdraws his fingers with a slick pop, holding them up to inspect the glistening strands connecting to your ruined panties. 

"Saccharine, even," he declares after sucking them clean.  

Before you can process what’s happening, he’s crouching in front of your chair, hands gentle as he fixes your clothes—tugging your tank top back down, smoothing your skirt over your thighs. His fingers linger at your ankle, thumb brushing the chipmunk embroidered on your sock.

“So cute,” he sighs, pressing a kiss to the cartoon nose. “My little chipmunk.”

When he stands, he looks every bit the composed medical student—sweater undisturbed, hair barely ruffled. 

Only the faint flush high on his cheeks betrays him.

“Thursday,” he reminds you, adjusting his glasses. “Don’t forget your notes on synaptic transmission.”

The door clicks shut behind him.

Downstairs, the party continues—laughter floating up the stairs as you stare at the neon-yellow highlighter bleeding across your vagus nerve diagram.

Your phone buzzes.

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚎𝚏𝚝 𝚜𝚘𝚌𝚔’𝚜 𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚙𝚖𝚞𝚗𝚔 𝚑𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚝𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚜𝚎. 𝙸’𝚕𝚕 𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚏��𝚋𝚛𝚒𝚌 𝚐𝚕𝚞𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚡𝚝 𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎.

Next time.

You press your forehead to the cool desktop, the ghost of his fingers still throbbing between your legs. Across the room, your reflection in the vanity mirror shows tousled hair, swollen lips, and the faint red mark below your ear.

Normal Hoseok wouldn’t notice loose threads.

Normal Hoseok wouldn’t taste you like dessert.

Normal Hoseok wouldn’t—

Your phone buzzes again.

𝐇𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐨𝐤: 𝙳𝚘𝚗’𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚐𝚎𝚝 𝚝𝚘 𝚑𝚢𝚍𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚎. 𝙴𝚕𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚛𝚘𝚕𝚢𝚝𝚎 𝚍𝚎𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎𝚜 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚌𝚕𝚎 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚖𝚙𝚜.

You stare at the message, then at the half-empty water bottle by your desk.

Bastard.

Beautiful, terrifying bastard.

→ 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @somehowukook @just-reading-dany @sanarin @billy-jeans23 @stuti2904 @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @annyeongbitch7

© 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓.

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[sunnie-angel]

Part 14: The Replacement

part 13 | series masterlist | ao3 link

jason todd x f!reader

summary: jason's got a new ally and starts to make new connections about what's really going on in gotham

tags: angst, reference to off screen violence, reference to serial killer

rated explicit (mdni) | wc: 1.8k

a/n: so. it's been a while. mostly i was afraid of writing stephanie brown for the first time (and if she seems ooc, i'm still working on it) but i promise the end is in sight for this fic.

Jason’s got to hand it to Barbara, she’s a problem solver. Not only has Dick been warned to stay far, far away for now, but he’s actually listening to her. Shocker. It’s been weeks of patrol and Jason hasn’t seen a slip of blue fluttering at the edges of his territory the way he’d expected to. Getting the full brunt of the Dick Grayson Puppy Eyes Experience is a lot. Jason had let it distract him from his goal, but no more. Playing at happy family can wait. It’s a bitter thing, this pain in his chest that for all his family says they love him, none of them will listen to him. But to Babs? Well her words are worth their weight in gold apparently.

Jason lands on the next rooftop a little harder, pebbles crunching under his feet as he rolls to absorb the shock. He pants, breath coming out in harsh waves as he shakes the landing off, before backing up to get his next running start. It’s an easy rhythm to fall into, on that doesn’t let him dwell on any uncomfortable thoughts. He’s got an objective and a time limit and that’s all he needs to know.

He’s not late – he’d left with plenty of time to make it – but Spoiler is already waiting for him. Smart. She’s had time to survey the ground, to use the terrain to her advantage before meeting him alone. Funny, Jason doesn’t think he’s seen her without one of the other Bats running interference. He’s turned tail and beat a hasty tactical retreat several times after catching sight of Spoiler purple next to Red Robin crimson on a rooftop. Grit crunches under the rubber sole of his boots as he makes his way to the building’s exhaust vent, letting it shelter him from the wind. Spoiler tracks him, body pivoting so that she never gets caught with him in her blind-spot. A habit, one probably engrained by Red Robin. Jason might not be tangled back up in the inner circles of the family but he’s got eyes and ears enough to know that they’re close. The lighter flickers in his hand but the cigarette catches. Not really a wise choice to be letting his guard down so quickly, not when Spoiler is so clearly still sizing him up, but its the closest thing to an olive branch he can manage.

“Oracle says you’ve got a serial killer problem you can’t handle.” She breaks the silence first. The first drag of the cigarette fills his lungs, the cold of the wind pinking his ears, and for a moment Jason wishes he had the hood on instead.

“Wouldn’t say I can’t handle it,” he says between draws on his cigarette. “But I need fresh eyes, more eyes.” Somewhere in the distance a siren wails. Neither of them move.

“Anybody else could have looked at the case,” is what she says finally. “D—Nightwing was practically begging to.”

“An’ he woulda been so focused on reforming me, he woulda forgotten about the case entirely.” The ash never hits the ground when Jason taps at his cigarette, the wind whisking it away.

“And you think I won’t?” She asks.

Jason scoffs. “I don’t think you give a shit about me. I think you give a shit about dead girls turning up in a part of town that’s not too far in your rearview mirror.”

Spoiler’s shoulders sag, her weight coming off the balls of her feet. “Fine. I’ll help for them, not you, got it?”

“Oh reading you loud and clear, don’t you worry.”

Spoiler drifts closer. Not close enough to get within grabbing distance but close enough that the wind doesn’t carry his words away. Jason pulls a thumb-drive out of his jacket pocket and tosses it her way. She catches it, as expected, and squints at it as if it might begin to bite.

“That’s everythin’ I got.” Jason nods at the drive. “But the phone calls are missin’. That’s what we need from O.”

“Phone calls,” Spoiler repeats flatly.

Jason sighs. “It’s in the file. The victims were taken on a Friday night but they made phone calls to a loved one early Saturday morning. The ones that did pick up won’t tell the police what was said and I haven’t been able to get ahold of the voicemails.”

The thumb-drive disappears into Spoiler’s gloved hand as she clenches her fist around it. Jason tries not to let the relief he feels show.

“I’ll see what I can do,” is her tight lipped reply.

Jason stubs out the cigarette, the cherry embers neatly extinguished. It’s a cold night, windy too. Soon all traces of their meeting will disappear into the night with them. Jason turns to leave, but Spoiler’s voice stops him.

“Hood? We might be working together on this but that doesn’t mean I trust you.”

Jason should have worn the Hood. It hides his expressions much better. This had been the moment he’d been waiting for all evening, hadn’t it? She shouldn’t trust him, not by any stretch of the imagination. It means she won’t take any of his investigation without tablespoons of salt. She’ll catch something – she has to, for your sake –  something that Dick in all his heartfelt soppiness over Jason’s new life would have missed. That doesn’t make the sting of it any less, the aching relief of pressing down on a bruise to find the bone unbroken under it. He doesn’t turn to face her, simply throws the glib words over his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Stephanie Brown contacts him four days later, a text to a cellphone he definitely didn’t give her the number for, and arranges to meet. The coffee shop is cozy, one of those quirky independent shops where all the drinks are named ‘death by caffeine’ or ‘kill me quicker’, the corner she’s picked out suitably isolated from any of the other customers. Jason stares down at her furiously typing away on her laptop completely oblivious to his presence, and sighs before trundling off to the counter.

“Can I get whatever you’ve got that’s closest to a flat white and a refill for her?” He nods at Stephanie’s still oblivious hunched over figure.

“Sure! That’ll be one ‘Drowned in the Milky Way’ and a ‘Helado de Café Homicide’’ the barista says far too cheerfully and Jason makes sure to tip her extra.

Stephanie startles when Jason places the mug down in front of her and he does his best to hold in his sigh. Really, what is B teaching them these days?

“Thought you could use that,” he says, settling into the chair across from her. It’s too small for his frame but he tries not to let the discomfort show. There’s a fine line between her distrust and her disgust and only one of those things is going to help him here.

She swigs back a grateful gulp, a thin line of foam painting a moustache on her face. Rummaging in her back, she pulls out a manila folder. Eager, Jason reaches for it but she surprises him with her speed, pulling it out of his reach.

“Barbara got the transcripts.” Jason nods, then settles in to hear what she’s found. Nothing good by the dark circles under her eyes and the flat affect of her voice. “Are you sure that the first victim was the first one in the file?”

“Went back six months in the coroner’s files, wasn’t anythin’ close to this,” he tells her. His knee starts to jiggle unconsciously.

“There’s— there’s something in the calls, something that feels like he’s making them reference a specific event,” she starts slowly. “He’s made all of the women say variations of “he’s going to finally put holes in the pretty one” and “he’s gonna show the world what a bitch the lady is, toss her out so we can all get on with our nights”, stuff like that.”

Jason can’t feel the chair under him anymore. He can barely hear Stephanie calling his name over the roar in his ears and the echoing memories of a gun, an alley, a man. His mouth is dry, so dry. Thud thud thud goes his heart knocking against his ribs. The cup handle breaks off in his hand, the sting of the cut bringing him back into the present.

“There was—“ he stops, clearing his throat. “There was an attempted robbery. In November. The robber he— he said those things.”

“Okay well good, we can follow up on that.” Stephanie smiles.

“Can’t,” he croaks. Is the room getting smaller? It feels like the room is getting smaller. “I was there. Me an’ a friend. A friend that looks just like all the other victims.”

“Oh,” is all Stephanie says, leaning heavily back in her chair. “Well isn’t that a good thing? He’d be in the system from when you turned him in. It sucks that your friend got pulled into this but at least we can put this to rest.”

“Can’t.” Jason knows that he’s parroting himself again but he’s currently stifling the urge to go screaming through the streets. “Never turned him in.”

“Okay so if he’s dead, then it’s got to be someone else that overheard—”

“He’s not dead,” Jason interrupts her. God he’s so fucking stupid. He should have— have killed the guy when he had the chance or called it in to one of the Bats to take care of but no. He’d taken one look at your tearstained, vacant face and panicked.

“So he’s...” Stephanie says leadingly, confusion plain on her face.

“No clue. My friend was...she was in shock, I had to get her out of there.”

Stephanie stares at him. Jason stares back. She chugs the rest of her drink.

“Okay! Okay so we know that the killing started after this guy tried to rob you. I’m assuming he failed?” She levels him with a look and he nods. “Oh you’re really, really gonna hate this next part then.”

Very, very consciously Jason pushes the mug and its broken handle away from him on the table.

“I think he knows your friend.”

Red crescents are carved into Jason’s palm, his nails drawing more blood.

“Why,” he grits through clenched teeth.

“It was Babs that flagged it, not me, but the nature of the killings, the taunting phone calls, it all reads extremely personal. Beyond just the mugging.”

Jason can’t— there’s not enough air. He has to see you. Now. Needs to know that you’re alive and safe, tucked away in your shoebox of an apartment. He sees them – your friends, your coworkers, hell even the bus driver on your route home – faces grinning in the shadows. He can’t be here anymore.

part 15

[outofangband]

Blood and Darkness: An Updated Post on the Darkening of Valinor and Maedhros’s testimony from Morgoth’s Ring (History of Middle Earth Volume Nine)

Notes: since my original post, I’ve made several others which can be found in my tag “The Darkening of Valinor” and I might link to them and refer to them throughout

Also special thanks to @nelyoslegalteam and @potatoobsessed999 for listening to me ramble about this a lot

So, for background, just as within the original Silmarillion, Fëanor has been exiled to Formenos for many years and today, during the Mingling of the two trees, he has come to Manwë's court where he was meant to speak to Fingolfin and forgiveness to be reached. Of course, we know, something more happened. Morgoth attacked with Ungoliant and the two trees were destroyed. In Morgoth's Ring, we get a vivid description of the atmosphere around the Darkening and it's also one of the most dialogue we get for Maedhros anywhere.

I imagine this is a post I'll continue to edit and revise, it's one of my favorite scenes

But even as (Nienna) mourned there was the sound of feet hastening in the night. Then through the throng came the sons of Fëanor, flying from the North and they bore new tidings of evil. Maedhros  spoke for them. “Blood and darkness!’ he cried. ‘Finwë the king is slain and the Silmarils are gone!’

I made an entire post about it here but to summarize, these words are so important because they are likely among the first times Maedhros has known anything like darkness or seen blood in this way. He's hunted certainly but this sort of violent death is the stuff of old tales. His cry of blood and darkness, darkness and blood, are not just abstract exclamations of the horrors he has just witnessed, they are also genuine reactions to what was not natural or familiar phenomena to him.

Then Fëanor fell upon his face and lay as one dead until the full tale was told.

‘My lord,’ said Maedhros to Manwë, ‘it was the day of the festival but the king was heavy with grief at the departure of my father, a foreboding was on him. He would not go from the house. We were irked by the idleness and silence of the day and we went riding towards the Green Hills. Our faces were Northward but suddenly we were aware that all was growing dim.’

Maedhros captures the atmosphere so vividly here. Something like a quiet, summer day when there shouldn’t be a thunderstorm but it feels like there will be. Slow and almost crackling and the heavy air starts to feel like dread. I love this description and I’m not doing my response to it justice.

I am just thinking...imagine you have never known true night and all of a sudden the light starts to go away. Indeed, even if you did know night, if the light started to fail at midday?

‘The light was failing. In dread we turned and rode back in haste, seeing great shadows rise up before us. But even as we drew near to Formenos the darkness came upon us; and in the midst was a blackness like a cloud that enveloped the house of Fëanor.’

‘That enveloped the house of Fëanor’. He means this literally of course; he was out riding with his brothers and a cloud of this awful growing dark closes in on them but it's obviously a poignant symbolism as well.

‘We heard the sound of great blows struck. Out of the clouds we saw a sudden flame of fire. And then there was one piercing cry. But when we urged on our horses they reared and cast us to the ground, and they fled away wild. We lay upon our faces without strength; for suddenly the cloud came on and for a while we were blind. But it passed us and moved away north at great speed. Melkor was there, we do not doubt. But not he alone! Some other power  was with him, some huge evil: even as it passed it robbed us of all wit and will.’

The sense of chaos and sheer wrongness is palpable here. I don’t know if this makes sense but the buzzing of the air with tension, the birds and insects and warm weather frogs have gone quiet, like a solar eclipse in a world that does not yet have the sun.  The forced cheerful but wary day of riding turning afoul when this cloud comes and screams are heard, the confusion, them being cast from their horses which have  and unable to move as this dreadful, ancient power draws nearer to them? The Fëanorians were trapped as this horrifying entity passes by them and survive only because they are not directly in the way. 

A sense of dread, static atmosphere, trusted animals acting oddly and then violently, the light going out, helplessness induced as though by an otherworldly power. It's a scene out of a horror tale.

And then what they find when they finally reach home. 

The Silmarillion says that Fëanor would have almost certainly been killed had he been at Formenos when Melkor arrived, indeed it was likely Melkor’s aim. (And Fëanor cursed also the summons of Manwë and the hour in which he came to Taniquetil, thinking in the madness of his rage and grief that had he been at Formenos his strength would have availed more than to be slain also as Melkor had purposed “The Flight of the Noldor”). We can’t say for certain what would have happened in hypotheticals that the author didn’t directly addresses but I have a hard time imagining that Melkor would have showed much mercy had the sons of Fëanor not gone out riding and had instead attempted to aid their grandfather. 

Also the mention of how the cloud that passes robs them of their wit and will. It's intriguing and horrifying. It could almost be read as a natural response to such a traumatic event, hearing your grandfather attacked and slain, his crying out, and knowing you won't get there in time...except for how total and visceral it is.

I've talked a lot about this when it comes to The Wanderings of Húrin and it's always difficult to know how much is intentional but I frequently find it interesting how often these influences of darkness and evil mirror trauma responses, such as Húrin walking 'as one in a dream' and the shadow that takes over him upon waking from nightmares.

‘Darkness and blood! When we could move again we came to the house. There we found the king slain at the door. His head was crushed as with a great mace of iron. We found no others; all had fled and he had stood alone, defiant. That is plain; for his sword lay beside him, twisted and untempered as though by lightning strike. All the house was broken and ravaged. Naught is left. The treasures are empty. The chambers of iron are torn apart. The Silmarils are taken!’

I'm also struck by how incredibly coherent and detached description of finding the murdered body of your grandfather in a place that had not ever seen violent murder. That he had the presence of mind to get his brothers away from Formenos and go directly to where Manwë was is pretty notable! Especially in the dark! I can imagine what that journey must have been like, not knowing who or what is still lurking out there.

And again, I made a full post about Finwë’s perspective on this here but... to think of Finwë’s last stand against this shadow of his childhood who has now haunted him across two continents, who’s evil deeds he has known from the very beginning, who started as a shapeless horror that stole away his kin in the dead of night and became this knowable threat he still couldn’t escape..knowing his grandsons are minutes away in this shadow....

And the detail of Melkor further destroying the whole house! Killing Finwë was likely unnecessary, he could have almost certainly cast him aside, knocked him unconscious, etc. Melkor likely became enraged when another member of that family denied him entry and so he destroyed all he could in his path.

Final note: some of the descriptions in Morgoth’s Ring about the reaction of non Finwëans is also striking so I’ll post about that soon

[seellove]

Counterfeit Shrines // sukuna x female reader

Masterlist

Chapter 5 - Placing a bet, my odds are You and Me Zero // (3.6k words) // 18+

\|/ AO3 - Chapter 5 | << Chapter 4 | Chapter 6 >>

You're a late bloomer when it comes to cursed energy, entering Tokyo Jujutsu High partway through the 4th year on the support student track. Because of this, you get paired with the only combat track sorcerer without a partner for obvious reasons, Ryomen Sukuna. He's had a tragic upbringing as a human that is part curse with dark expectations for how to live his life. However, after meeting you, he slowly starts to see the possibility of a different path with someone he might love.

Content Tags/Warnings Throughout Work: Reader and Sukuna are Jujutsu Sorcerers in a JJK AU, explicit smut, violence/blood/injury, dubious consent, dubious morality, drug and alcohol use, falling in love, angst, comfort, fluff, happy ending

There is a chill in the morning air as you wait outside. You are groggy from sleeping poorly last night and as a result of waking up obscenely early, anxious and nervous for your first mission. Your bag lays on the ground beside you, probably overpacked, but you didn’t know what to expect so better to have something and not need it. 

You pull your beanie down lower to cover your ears from the breeze. The car better be warm, you aren’t yet used to these chilly mornings. 

“Be careful on your mission Suki,” Yorozus voice cuts through the silence. “Let me know when you get back, I’ll have a welcome home present you don’t want to miss.” 

Suki, you snicker to yourself, you’ll have to remember that next time he’s an asshole. 

“Oh yeah, what’s that gonna be?” a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“If you’re lucky I might send you a sneak peek later,” she responds in a sultry tone. 

Gross can they not do this elsewhere?. 

“Oh she’s going with you?” Yorozus voice grates on your ears. Goddammit you don’t want to deal with this right now. 

“Yep it’s a support training mission, I have to make sure she doesn’t kill herself, isn’t that right?” he pulls your beanie down over your eyes. 

You rip the beanie off in frustration, revealing Sukuna standing in front of you wearing his uniform pants and a red and black jacket. Yorozu stands next to him, her arms crossed scowling at you. 

“I might have to kill myself to save myself from your incessant attitude,” you clap back. You look at Yorozu. “He’s all yours girl, I don’t want anything to do with this,” you gesture at Sukuna. You wouldn’t mind if what happened last night were to happen again, but you had no interest in fighting over a man like him. 

He fakes a frown, “wow harsh. I underestimated how little you think of me.” You don’t miss the side eyed smirk as he turns his head slightly towards you so Yorozu can’t see. 

To your relief a black car pulls up, saving you from this situation. You take off towards the car, not bothering to acknowledge whether Sukuna follows or not. After tossing your bag into the trunk, you circle back to the rear doors and settle yourself in the backseat. The driver greets you but other than that stays quiet. Not long after you buckle up, Sukuna joins you. You ignore him at first, not planning to say anything until he speaks.

“Did you mean what you said back there?” he caves first. 

“Mean what?” 

“You want nothing to do with this.”

You briefly pause before speaking, staring out the window to avoid looking at him, “I mean, kind of. I’m just here to go to school so I can move on with my life. I didn’t ask to be partnered up with the class fuckboy and be the target of his fangirls’ jealousy.”

The sounds of the car on the highway fills the space between the two of you. Tension weighs heavy in the air. You don’t hate Sukuna, in fact you value the time together and the unexpected friendship that has developed. It might not be the deepest bond, but at the end of the day there is mutual respect and the company is enjoyable. You are also grateful for everything he has taught you, even though it started out on not the best of terms. Plus, it was nice having someone actually appreciate your intelligence instead of calling you a nerd or a loser. 

You turn to look at him, surprised to see him already eying you. His eyes look a little softer than normal, while his mouth betrays no hints as to what he is thinking. 

“It’s exhausting trying to be friends with you sometimes Sukuna. Your love life is of no concern to me, but when people start berating me and being nasty, it’s hard to justify wanting to continue the friendship. Hell, I don't even know if you want to be friends with me. You are so emotionless and vapid at times, it's impossible to tell if you actually enjoy spending time together.”

“I absolutely do want to be friends with you,” he quickly responds, his eyes widening with a rare sign of emotion. “Sorry, I’m not good at conveying this with words, but your presence, I enjoy it, I look forward to it.”

His vulnerability catches you by surprise, awkward silence pooling between you. You decide to lighten the mode a bit, to offset the weird moment. “So he does have a heart after all,” you force a giggle.

He snorts in response, “it keeps me alive.”

“Alright Suki, now tell me about this mission.” 

“Never call me that,” he huffs in annoyance, giving you a side eyed glare.

“Oh right, that's your special nickname only your girl can call you,” you continue to egg him on, feeling him seething beside you.

“If you don’t shut up, I’m gonna leave you in there with those curses and let you figure it out. Besides, she isn’t worth my time to disagree with, I don’t care enough to have a lengthy conversation,” Sukuna retorts.

“Now, about the mission.”

He explains the info that was contained in the original posting online. He must read the confusion on your face at the lack of information because he continues talking, “sometimes you don’t really know what the mission will be like until you are there to scope it out. The intel we receive is usually pretty high level without a ton of detail.” 

Your nervous demeanor must be apparent because he places his hand on your arm, “I won’t send you in there alone, I’ll scope it out first and I’ll be nearby the whole time. You have no idea how fast and powerful I am, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

Your stomach feels less turbulent with his reassurances. 

“Are they scary? The curses?”

“If you aren’t used to them, I suppose they could be. Just to warn you, they are pretty grotesque and deformed looking. These ones we will be dealing with are pretty stupid though. Higher level ones are more scary because they can reason and act like humans.” 

“What kinds of missions do you usually go on?” you question. 

“Hmm, mine are usually a little tougher and can last multiple days. Sometimes I need to gather my own intel before charging in. There’s usually a lot of lower grade curses in addition to powerful ones. Curses attract curses after all.”

A sadistic grin creeps across his face as he continues, “I fuck then up though, I enjoy tearing them apart, trying new techniques on them, I’m known for leaving my missions a bloody mess when it’s all said and done.” 

“Why does that not surprise me? Can you show me your technique on one when we get there?” 

He sits up straighter, puffing out his chest ever so slightly, “yeah I will, just for you.”

You can’t help but be a little excited to see a real sorcerer in action. Plus, you need to see if he’s actually as strong as he claims to be. 

The rest of the ride goes without incident, chatting and banter between you two passing the time. You look up and notice the car slowing to turn into an old neighborhood, stopping a few houses away from what is presumably the abandoned one. It was a massive brick building with beautiful white columns, an unkempt garden framing the entrance.

You stare up at it, a wave of nausea springs up as fear begins to wash over you. You were scared of curses, only remembering stories of missions gone wrong and the gruesome things they will do to people. Shoko tried to describe them one time as did Sukuna earlier, but you were still nervous about everything. 

The driver activates the barrier and gives you both the rendezvous location. 

“Follow me,” Sukuna grunts shortly, leading the way towards the mansion. “I’ll go scope it out first, then come back for you.”

He bounds inside with impressive speed, kicking down the front door unceremoniously. A chill drips down your spine making you shiver in anticipation. The presence of curses. Swallowing hard, you try to pep yourself up, remembering the combat moves Sukuna had meticulously taught you and drilled you on.

You see red eyes approaching from the mansion and realize it’s just Sukuna. He beckons to you, waving you over. Your feet feel like lead as you force yourself to climb the staircase and walk through the open doorway.

“Watch me take out a few, then it’s your turn,” he grins. He seems to love this stuff, to love fighting because it's the first glimpse of excitement you’ve ever observed from him. Suddenly you see it, or better yet, them. Eyeless and slimy, the curses’ blue skin catches your eye in the dim room as they appear from behind a doorway on the opposite wall. You freeze up, the dark cursed energy coming off of them suffocates you, like your windpipe feeling like it is half the size now. You can’t tell if it’s panic or effects of the curses, but a feeling of despair comes on quickly.

On the contrary, Sukuna has a malicious sneer on his face, eyes glowing even brighter than before. He also looks like he has claws now, those definitely weren’t there before. 

“Watch,” he says in a gravelly voice as he delivers a swift punch to one of the curses. A gruesome sound of flesh bending grates on your ears as It bursts into a spray of purple blood. Sukuna doesn’t seem to care as it lands on his arm and clothing. “One punch with cursed energy should be enough.”

You are revolted by everything right now, feet glued to the ground and overstimulated by the sights and sounds. “I’m scared, I don’t know if I can,” your voice cracks.

“You’ve been trained by myself, the best, you are more than ready, get a grip,” he growls, irritation flashing in his eyes. 

“Your tough love attitude is not helping right now!” you lash out at him in frustration.

 Sukuna cups his chin with his hand, pondering something. “I have an idea,” he announces as he swiftly turns back towards the doorway.

Another curse appears from the same doorway. Sukuna seems to lure it out into the open, while you are unsure of what he’s trying to do. Suddenly he flicks his fingers and the curse’s leg is sliced in half. It screeches something awful, blood pouring out from where the limb was severed. 

Like a mother predator helping her young make their first kill, you realized what Sukuna was doing.

“Oh my god,” you gasp, dry heaving at the stench and sight. Also what the fuck was that move he just did? He seemed to cut the thing open without moving.

“Do it,” his voice is sharp and commanding, “hesitating can be the difference between living and dying.”

You gulp, trying to muster up the courage to charge at the curse. Remember, it can’t move, so it’s not a threat. You approach it cautiously, gathering up cursed energy in your fist. You wind up and deliver a blow to the side of its head. The flesh compresses as your fist makes contact, tearing through the skin and showering you with the purple blood you saw before. You jump back as the curse disintegrates.

“Finally,” Sukuna barks, “now I’m going to stand back while you take them on.” He moves to the entryway. You eye the interior doorway, awaiting the next curse.

It appears and you circle it, studying its movements before you make a move. The thing moves around uncoordinated like it can barely see. After watching it you realize there really is no sign of intelligence from the creature. You dart towards it and easily deliver a blow to its head, watching the life leave its eyes as your knuckles penetrate the thin skin. Another appears and you dodge it, delivering a kick this time which destroys it in a similar fashion. 

Next two come at one time, causing you to dodge more creatively as you exorcise them. You still feel the harsh ache in your bones from the dark cursed energy filling the room, but your confidence is boosted now, adrenaline pumping through your veins. 

Sukuna leads the way deeper into the mansion. Little by little, you clear the rooms while he observes quietly. You feel very comfortable with taking them out now, your confidence brimming.

“The last one is stronger than the others, I’ll handle it,” Sukuna says, stepping forward. He kicks open the last door and you both come face to face with a contorted creature, its limbs broken and bones protruding from its skin. It’s like a cross between a giant centipede and a human. A dry heave bursts from your mouth and fear grips you. 

Sukuna laughs with a twisted sound, “get a load of this thing.” He taunts it, not going in for the kill immediately, like a cat playing with its food. 

“My technique uses slashing attacks, two of which being dismantle and cleave,” he explains to you while dancing around the creature that is desperately trying to hit him with its boney tail. 

“Dismantle is a series of default slashes that don’t differ in power, but I can architect it however I please with however many I want.” You notice an almost artistic crosshatch pattern of slashes appear on the creature as Sukuna carves up the surface of its skin, muscle and skin hanging from the creature like tattered cloth.

“Cleave adjusts to the target’s power and toughness to inflict a lethal amount of damage.”

He slices his hand diagonally in front of him and suddenly the curse is sliced into 4 pieces, falling to the ground like a carved up piece of meat. His technique is terrifying. You shiver at the thought of how he could kill you anytime in seconds. He looks back at you and notices the fear on your face.

“What’s wrong brat? Scared of me?”

“Kind of yeah,” you squeak out. 

“Good, you should be,” he licks the blood off his fingers. 

“Gross!”

He looks directly in your eyes and drops his hands to his sides, “You asked me to show you my technique, so I did. Let’s go.”

Back at the car you both change into your spare clothes. You are thankful to have the blood off your clothes and are excited to take a shower to not just the blood off of you but the invisible feeling of nastiness you still feel from the curses. You still feel a sense of despair and depression consuming you, no doubt a result of the sinister cursed energy within that building.

Sukuna walks you to your hotel room after everyone checks in.

“I’ll get us some dinner, come to my room when you are done showering and getting settled,” he says as he strides down to the end of the hall and disappears into his room. 

You open the door to reveal what's inside. The room is nice enough, a simple bed sits in the middle of the room with night stands on either side adorned with ornate iron lamps on each. The bathroom is quite nice too with a walk in shower and tile wall matching the sink backsplash.

You take a long hot shower, feeling very refreshed and replenished now that the blood splattered on your skin has washed away. You can’t help but think back to the mission, reliving everything as you dried yourself off. Sukuna handled it with such ease, it was impressive. Also he was such a freak for licking curse blood off of himself. Incredibly odd behavior. 

The chilling feeling from before is still apparent, but you are more used to it now as it weighs over you like a constant presence. Even though your stomach is still a little uncomfortable, it growls with hunger, evidence of the physical activity you just partook in. You change into lounge shorts and a comfortable t-shirt, then make your way to Sukuna’s room. 

You knock on the door and he is quick to answer, opening the door wearing nothing but pajama pants. Dear lord his body was to die for as your breath catches in your throat. His hair is still damp from the shower and the bold tattoos snake through the rifts and valleys of his toned body. He turns away to let you in, walking back towards the bathroom.

“Food’s on the table,” he says as he grabs his shirt and throws it on. How convenient that he answered the door shirtless, unable to wait five seconds to throw a shirt on.

You sit down and demolish your dinner quickly, him finishing not long after. You feel much more at ease having him around right now, not really wanting to be alone after dealing with the curses. You just felt off and being around someone strong like Sukuna was much more comforting.

“Want to watch something?” you suggest, grabbing the remote. You get up and get onto the bed. Leaning back against the headboard, you flip on the TV.

Sukuna crawls up next to you, leaving a gap between him and you. Even though nothing was happening, you felt a little weird being in the same bed as him. You curl your knees to your chest and pull a blanket up over you, attempting to be less exposed.

“There’s a new episode of Masterchef tonight, turn that on,” Sukuna says in a monotone voice. 

“You like Masterchef?” You ask happily. “I love it!”

“Yes brat, cooking shows are my favorite genre of TV,” he says bluntly. 

Sukuna lays on his stomach facing the TV and away from you. His shirt clings to his back muscles in a way that makes watching the show distracting, unsure if you are watching more of it or him. 

“That steak is way overcooked,” he comments as the judges cut into one of the contestants' dishes.

“It looks fine, it shouldn’t be still mooing when you eat it,” you laugh. The steak looked medium rare which was plenty fine.

“Yeah but the juices are the best part,” he turns around to look at you, making a creepy but funny face.

“Whatever,” you nudge his leg with your foot.

He turns around without a response.

You watch together, critiquing the cast and dishes and laughing at each other's comments. Sukuna certainly had a lot to say about food and contestants’ knife skills.  

It felt good, it felt right, and helped you forget about the mission and dark thoughts for a while. Joking with Sukuna was easy, he was someone you could be yourself with and not worry. You also felt like you could say anything because no matter what he was always grumpy about something, so you had nothing to lose. As the night lingered on, you felt yourself starting getting tired. You internally cursed your body, not wanting the fun night to end. 

Sukuna notices you fighting sleep, “I can walk you back to your room if you want.”

Yawning, you nod your head wordlessly, getting up and going to stand by the door while Sukuna grabs his phone and room key. You reach to grab the door handle, but feel him grasp your arm, pulling you to face him.

Everything happens so fast, next thing you know his lips are on yours and you are pressed against the door. You squeak in surprise, but quickly surrender to the kiss, allowing his tongue to invade your mouth. The salty taste from dinner lingering on his tongue and his body wash enveloping your nose. He tips your chin up, allowing him deeper access, practically feeling his tongue down your throat. You hardly have time to react before he pulls back with a pop.

This kiss is quick but intense, leaving you half dazed, your mind a pile of mush as you long for more, wishing you had been more alert to match his energy.

“Come on, let's get you back to your room brat,” he opens the door, allowing you to leave first. Finally your legs move, carrying you down the hall. Your heart is pounding on the walk back while walking on unsteady legs. 

You don’t want to be alone right now, you want more time with him, want more of him. You feel safe in his presence as the unsettling feeling is still present from earlier. 

You open your door and glance back at him. “Night Sukuna.”

“G’night,” he says with a tired look on his face, standing just outside the door of your room, hands shoved in his pockets. 

Heart beating a hundred miles an hour, you can’t bring yourself to shut him out. The doorframe acts like a barrier between you and him that shouldn’t be breached. But with all things that should be off limits, even the threat of eternal damnation has never been enough of a deterrent against the sin of tasting the forbidden. 

He goes to turn around when suddenly you reach out, not sure if your brain made this decision or if your body just was running on autopilot. 

You grab his arm, your voice uttering a simple word:

 “stay.” 

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