#nd reader

Tags: Alternate Universe - College/University; Slow Burn; Slow Build; Slow Romance; Blood and Injury; Dead People; Eventual Smut; Angst; Harassment; Mahito is his own Warning; Sukuna is young and dumb; Jealousy; Bullying; Harassment; Idiots in love; sukuna is obsessed; we love obedient men

Ao3 link if you prefer! art by avecot

(🥀) This arc is complete, 17 chapters.

Thank you all who commented, read, enjoyed, shared, etc! 💕

wakatoshi watches your mostly bare form, just a thin little cropped top and white cotton underwear, your socks rolled at the ankles. you look so casual and vulnerable like this, so at ease, so trusting.

he doesn't know how to tell you that he never wants to leave the bed either, when you're in it.

instead of answering your teasing in words, he easily hoists you up and plants you onto his chest. you let out a girlish laugh and admonish him for the sudden movement, clearly not at all upset.

'"hah- toshi!"

his tank top shifts under your ass as he grips your hips, steadying you as you sit on him now. his hands are supportive and firm, never harsh.

"i don't mind being trapped by you," he says, tone even and low. you have to look at his face to try to read his intentions.

his thumbs brush against the waistband of your panties. you feel your face heat up.

"toshi, what is this?" you whine a bit, flustered at his steady eye-contact. it never fails to make you feel exposed, especially now, as you're barely dressed, feeling the solid muscles of his chest underneath you.

you squirm but don't move away as his grip loosens to let you out. pouting, you poke at his cheek, frustrated at his silence.

"come on, tell me, what do you want," you urge.

ushijima just looks up at you for a moment, eyes trailing over your body, a slightly heated look. he pauses before he speaks. you wait as always, though nothing could prepare for his following words.

"i want you to sit on my face," he deadpans.

"wha- huh?"

you nearly squeak, hand coming to your mouth. in hindsight, you should very well be used to his bluntness by now. ushijima doesn't mind, he just watches your reaction. he doesn't apologise, doesn't move you, just waits for you to recover from your bout of embarrassed gawking and huffing.

it's sort of cute, he thinks.

the way your hips shift isn't exactly subtle, but he either doesn't notice the clear signs of your arousal, or pretends not to. you don't know which you'd prefer.

"umm- you wanna-?" you start, suddenly too aware of his big hands on your hips, the way he methodically traces the edge of your panties, the way his chest feels warm and solid, how you could just grind a bit more-

"-to perform cunnilingus, while you sit on my face," he finishes your abandoned thought. he watches you like he's trying to read your expression, a bit confused, but always earnest. you save him the guessing.

"you mean right now?" you ask, then immediately continue, "of course you do, i mean-" you gesture at your positioning. "yeah, okay, sure- as long as you don't mind-"

your scattered answer gets interrupted by another squeak as he tugs you forward, hands supporting your weight, holding you at your hips and thighs. you're hovering over his mouth now, your thighs bracketing his head.

your core throbs at the intense focus in ushijimas eyes. your thin underwear is the only thing separating you two. you feel aroused so fast that it's dizzying.

"yes, now. with your consent," he confirms, eyes caught on the damp spot on your panties.

you smile at his choice of words, nodding.

"yeah, okay." your voice comes out more heady and dazed than you mean to. ushijima smiles slightly at that, and promptly pulls your hips down, his nose touching your pussy through your panties.

you think he inhales before he starts mouthing at your clothed pussy, but then again, your mind is racing too fast to process every sensation.

ushijimas arms wrap around you, pulling you to him. your position is no longer in your own control at all with the way he basically holds you still over him as he mouths at your wet pussy through your underwear.

"toshi-" you whine, worried about the strain on his arms as he spreads you open, but all he does is groan into you, sending vibrations against your skin, tearing away your worries with the sensation.

when your panties are soaked through, he hooks two fingers into the fabric and pulls them aside, exposing your slick cunt to him properly. he doesn't hesitate before licking a generous stripe over your whole pussy, making you huff and whimper above him.

ushijimas grip tightens at your sounds, pulling you down more, and soon you realise that your weight is actually sitting on his face.

his tongue works you intently, like he's hungry for your arousal, and you do your best to brace yourself, to keep your balance as he sends waves of intense pleasure through your system.

"hah- toshi," you whine, hips jolting against his mouth, as if of their own accord. he hums against your cunt dismissively, eyes closed as he mouths at you greedily.

you insist, fighting to find words through his relentless motions.

"you- you need to watch out, your neck- wait-" you try, whines escaping between words, and he pulls back, briefly.

then, those intense eyes are back on you, with all of his desire and passion evident to see. it makes you shiver.

"is that your concern?" he asks. his tone gives you nothing again, his voice a little gruff, a little out of breath. he doesn't seem to mind at all.

you meet his eyes, your bewildered and panting form much less composed than him. his tongue idly collects your dripping arousal as you try to answer. you don't stop him despite the way it makes your mind thrum — maybe because of it, you think absently.

"just don't want you to overexert yourself, or something-" you explain, "would be a weird one to explain to your P.T, wouldnt it?" you suggest humorously, a tinge of pleasure audible in your voice as he kisses your pussy gently.

"i wouldn't tell her about our intimate life," he pulls back and answers, gaze still drawn to your slick cunt, mere inches from his face. he looks distracted, licking his lips.

you huff; he doesn't seem to get what you mean.

"do you want me to stop?" he asks directly, eyes searching your face, trying to decipher the intensity in your eyes contrasted with the concern in your words. his hands shift, going to move you away, but you react faster.

"no!" you yelp, "no, i don't want you to stop," you explain, tone expressive, eyes flitting to the side, finding it hard to stay cool with his warm breaths so close to where you need him most.

"just.. promise me you won't get injured or anything," you say, sighing.

your mind is just so expert at trailing off-course, finding scenarios to catastrophize about. ushijima is usually your opposite, bringing you back to realistic probability with an even tone, a tight hug or a steady presence. he grounds you, protects you from the world, but sometimes also your overactive, fearmongering mind.

ushijima furrows his brow a bit, then shifts your weight in his arms. his eyes are intense as he looks at you through his lashes.

"i lifted much more than your weight just this morning, there is nothing to worry about," he says, and then his mouth is on you again.

oh, okay. a tight hug, calming words, or this, apparently, you think.

you groan, a bit at his directness, mostly at the way he sucks on your clit so well, humming lowly against your pussy as he enjoys your taste on his tongue. you're forced down onto his face again.

"-you can't lift with your face," you still argue, focus draining. ushijimas nose presses into the hair at your mound, giving your clit something to grind on as he licks at your pussy with conviction. his hands shift your hips for you, moving you over his face.

it's like he's forcing the worries out of you by making you fuck his face until you can't think anymore.

you think it's working.

"toshi-" you don't know if you're prompting him to reply, or just moaning his name.

the only response you get is a hum against your clit that makes your eyes roll back.

The others tease him for it, of course, but he couldn't care less. Everyone has weird coping mechanisms in this line of work, as it has become some sort of strange addiction. Even sending flowers to his online bestie, in turn receiving pictures of the newly thrifted vase that his darling put the flowers in. Darling is complaining about the stupid heating in their house acting up. Price got it covered; a workman is there within the day, whom Price has personally done background checks on and threatened. Darling accidentally lets it slip that they want a new set of pots and pans. No worries, Price has already ordered them just to see the pictures of whatever Darling is making in them. Price sends pictures of himself but never asks for pictures, knowing that people with dementia often become confused and aggravated when they see images of themselves.

The reader is just delighted any time she opens the door and someone says, "Your husband sent me" or "these are from your husband." The reader also assumes this is Price accepting their proposal and is already picking out rings and venues, and everything. After all, their spouse is a busy man in the military shouldn't bother them with anything stressful until it is mostly put together for him to approve of or tweak. Unfortunately, you did not get to show him these plans before radio silence hit.

The team had been thrown into one room as their captors freaked out. None of them had any clue what was happening, but they immediately set to checking each other's wounds. They were worse for wear but alive and mostly in one piece.

The captors start to scream about coms going down, then the lights shut off. They hear the sounds of helicopters and gunfire. It would just as easily be another enemy as it could be a rescue team. So Price positions himself at the front of his men even as they are still restrained in the dark. Then Price hears his darling and freezes.

"YOU FREAKS COULD NOT KEEP IT IN YOUR PANTS LONG ENOUGH FOR ME TO MAKE A TEMPITURE BLANKET IN MY RETIRMENT!" sounds of metal hitting metal filter through the door. Price later finds out that you ran out of ammo and started throwing wrenches.

To everyone's surprise, the door is busted open, and an operator by the callsign Bugged stepped in. It was not the first time the team had interacted with Bugged and their team, but it was the first time Bugged had spoken in front of them.

Bugged moved quickly while their team covered. Bugged slid in front of Price, ripping off their balaclava, and kissed Price. "My husband, what have they done to you?" Bugged gets them all out of their restraints, while refusing to leave Price's side. Price is stunned because this is his darling's voice, but that is a young adult. Soap thankfully fills up the surprised silence in the copper, asking Bugged about a million questions. Many of which they decline to answer. Then the call sign question came up, "Oh well, there are two reasons for my call sign. I can break just about any tech. Also, if I ever see a red wasp, I will defy physics to get away. Thankfully, I do not have to worry about that at home anymore. Price hired a bug guy to come around once a month and treat the outside of my house." Bugged leans over, giving Price a quick kiss on the cheek. "My husband spoils me." The boys are giving him the dirtiest looks for hiding Bugged from them, and Price is still processing this whole thing.

When Price, who received the most injuries, is put on bed rest for a week, he is then faced with the wedding binder and cake tastings with all of his men there. "None of you eats enough. Got to get you looking healthy for the wedding photos."

Price finally fesses up that he thought you were an 80-year-old with dementia out of guilt during the cake tasting. "Well, you courted me, now I want ya babies bio or adopted, so again, what color do you like?"

Soap is never going to let him live down the fact that he got reverse catfished into a hot spouse.

Others in this series.

“Oh hi, you’re not here at your normal time.” You looked up from where you had been getting your phone out of the black leather bag hanging on your shoulder.

“Hi Kyle.” You smiled at the man in front of you. Deep soulful brown eyes you could drown yourself in, beautiful chocolate skin that looked so silky and smooth under the orange glow. Holding a broom in his hand you only just noticed how most of the chairs were stacked on the tables. “Oh I’m so sorry it’s probably closing time soon. I’ll just go.”

“No it’s okay,” Kyle rushes out, the tips of his ears burning when he reached out and grabbed your wrist. Quickly he let go as if your skin had burnt him. He cleared his throat with a mumbled apology, “It’s alright, stay. I’ll make your regular.” He gave you a simple smile that had your insides warning up like seeing lights on the tree on Christmas morning.

A small nod, a little hesitant to ask for what you really wanted. Kyle noticed and managed to peel the information from you. “One slice of chocolate chip banana bread coming right up.” He grinned gesturing you towards one of the two empty tables that didn’t have chairs on them.

A few minutes pass of you just watching the outside world through the huge glass windows and Kyle is placing your regular and your craving in front of you on the table. You take a sip, eat a bite and sigh.

“Good?” Kyle asks sounding genuinely interested to know.

“So good.” You say, voice all muffled from the food stuffed in your cheeks. The answer, along with the cutest food pout he’s ever seen, makes Kyle grin. His heart skips a beat, his stomach flutters and his hands become sweaty. Such a reaction you pull from him and you don’t even know. He’s fought and killed men twice his size and yet here you are making him nervous.

Kyle doesn’t sit down, he gives you your space like you like but he can’t stop himself from glancing at you out the corner of his eye. Can’t fight the need to have you in his sights even if it’s a struggle to say no to the voice in his head urging him to take you in his arms.

He’s a strong man, mentally and physically. He can do this, if not for his sake, if not for his team’s sake, then for yours.

The next thirty minutes get away from you both, Kyle is just amazing at making you giggle. He jokes and says silly things that you’re almost certain he doesn’t mean but it’s funny either way.

Plate empty, drink finished and yet you find yourself wanting to stay. Wanting to converse with this lovely man that you spend twenty minutes with every morning. The way his eyes light up when you banter with him, how he grins to himself at your unrelatable awkward jokes.

If you could pick up on social queues maybe you’d actually see how much he likes you but you’re stuck on the realisation he might be number four on your list.

Kyle clears your table and once he’s done he offers you a ride home. It’s dark outside and unsafe are your reasonings for saying yes, definitely not that the gorgeous man in front of you looks like heaven to you.

The drive home is quiet, but a peaceful type of serene you love. The type you daydream about at your desk when things are too loud and overstimulating at work. Kyle can’t wipe the smirk off his face imagining Johnny and Simon’s reactions when he pulls up with you in the passenger seat.

He’s the complete gentleman when he does, opening the car door for you, a warm hand just hovering over the small of your back as he walks you up to the door of your flat building. It’s so sweet and endearing. It’s more than you’ve ever had before, it’s makes you a little light headed or is that just the cologne he’s wearing?

Either way it makes you go stupid, leaning forward with no control and lightly pressing your lips against his cheek. The action makes you jolt back to reality, you jump away from him a hand over your mouth eyes wide in shock. Kyle seems just as shocked, and when he goes to speak you basically shout ‘bye’ in his face before bursting into the building and sprinting up the stairs.

You completely ignore Johnny stood in the doorway of his flat with worried eyes, he asks if you’re okay as you’re unlocking your door but you don’t answer him. Your only goal is getting inside and slamming the door shut, you do it quickly before Johnny can ask more questions.

Johnny, one of the guys you like.

Johnny. Simon. John. And now Kyle. Maybe you should go to therapy? No, probably not best to go down that rabbit hole. Maybe just a week away from them all should set your mind right.

Look, you might need to explain the exact intricacies of your personal brand of Neurodivergent(tm) but once you do... he's going to be more than happy to satisfy your cuddle needs.

It doesn't hurt that he genuinely likes cuddling now that he's mostly retired from that criminal life. He doesn't have to act tough or pretend he doesn't like getting all soft with you.

You get to be his tiny little spoon, his arm draped over your waist as he cradles your body next to his. Actually, he's big enough that if you fell asleep on top of him, that would be okay, too. Your head on his chest listening to his heartbeat, one of his clawed hands stopping you from falling off.

Sometimes he holds onto you like you'll float away if he doesn't keep you tethered. You give him that blissful floating feeling... he feels it the most when it's your chest to his.

Despite his skin condition giving some people the impression he's actually cold-blooded, Waylon is so warm. Some might argue his body is a bit of a heater which is perfect for those cold winter months. Just hop on one of his legs when he's sitting on the couch and he'll envelop you with his arms- you'll warm up in no time!

The only con is you both will sweat to death during the summer. He's still got one hand on you but is trying to give you space.