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katerina-marie · 1 day

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I Know Everything You Don’t Want Me To (Meddle About)

Sukuna x Reader

Part 4 to this but falls chronologically between part 1 and part 2.

Two months ago, on a beach under golden sun, Ryomen Sukuna vehemently denied ever writing lyrics that could be misconstrued as anything close to romantic. At an awards show, when his band debuts a brand new song that seems to hint at the beginning of everything, you begin to wonder which one of you is the bigger liar.

Word Count: 8.7k

Notes: Last ~major~ part of my Sukuna x Reader celebrity!au. Meddle About by Chase Atlantic is the song that brought the idea of band member Sukuna into my head and it’s directly referenced in the fic below, so I recommend listening to it if you haven’t already heard it.

Content: bandmember Sukuna x actor female Reader (referred to as such, but left descriptively vague), no y/n, manager Nanami, bodyguard Toji, actor Gojo, found family vibes, some angst, fluff, crack, humor, out of character Sukuna (he's so fluffy), lightly explicit content (vaguely described sex), so please avoid accordingly. All characters are 18+ but only reader and Sukuna are involved in explicit content.

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“A friend of a friend,” is how Nobara had described them, prattling on excitedly as you joined her in the car to venture off to god knows who’s house to listen to “some album” that the ‘friend of a friend’ was releasing with his band in a mere few days. You couldn’t quite discern if she was being intentionally secretive or was just as oblivious of the situation as you. The only reason you were talked into going was the fact that the ‘friend’ Nobara was speaking of was Toji’s son Megumi, and it was one of his friends that just happened to be a musician.

“They’re letting us get a sneak peak of the album before it comes out!” Nobara squealed, drumming her hands rapidly against her leather-wrapped steering wheel. “Isn’t it exciting?”

You weren’t sure if you would call having to sit and listen through what was probably some b-list band’s basement album exciting, but you didn’t want to spoil your friend’s fun, and you hummed in reluctant agreement.

So imagine your surprise when, upon first stepping into an elegant foyer of a meticulously decorated mansion, you recognized the shock of blossom-pink hair associated with the world’s most popular band of the last couple years. Yuji was all jubilant smiles and boundless energy, jogging towards you and Nobara with arms wide open. You hadn’t quite recovered as he wrapped the two of you in a hug, and you could only gape stupidly over his shoulder as you watched his brother Choso, and Megumi, trail in behind him. You were overly cognizant of the fact that there was a third brother missing, as if anyone could be ignorant of the so-called ‘King of Curses’, and you swept your eyes across the rest of the house that you could see, just to possibly catch a glimpse of him. You were a fan, you supposed, not overly invested but you enjoyed their music nonetheless. If that enjoyment had anything to do with the sharp eyes and handsome grin of a tattooed rock star, you would never admit it.

In an effort to calm the jitters coursing under your skin, you excused yourself in pursuit of finding a bathroom, vaguely hearing the directions thrown over Choso’s shoulder. You meandered down a hallway, took a detour through an expansive kitchen, and tucked yourself through the door to a polished half-bath. Once finished, you took a second to peer into the mirror, smoothing down any flyaways on your head and making sure your outfit sat neatly. If you pinched at your cheeks lightly to bring some color to them…no you didn’t.

You had gone no further than a couple steps after leaving the bathroom when you heard a voice sound out from a small breakfast nook across the kitchen.

“I know you,” it crooned, and with barely there restraint, you turned slowly to face the one who’d spoken, locking eyes with Sukuna.

“And I know you,” you replied back calmly, praying you didn’t look as nervous as you felt. He was leaning forwards on the table, elbows propped up so he could cradle his chin in his hands. His expression was neutral, but his eyes were observant, not missing how you cocked your hip slightly and shoved your hand into your pockets.

Sukuna and Yuji, despite having a couple years and another brother between them, looked eerily similar. Though, where Yuji’s hair usually flopped over his forehead and into his eyes, Sukuna kept his swept back. The planes of Yuji’s face were soft and round, some remnants of youthful exuberance still clinging to his cheeks, and it made you wonder, however many years ago, if Sukuna’s face looked the same before time, age, and responsibility angled his jaw and narrowed his eyes. You made a note—that you also tried to pointedly forget—to search the internet for any evidence of such that might exist. You doubted you would find any though. For as famous as he and his brothers were, there was never much to be said about him. He kept to himself, seldom giving interviews or granting more than a scant few pictures with fans here or there. Sukuna’s romantic involvements were treated the same way. He wasn’t so much a womanizer as he was simply detached, you suspected for some reason unknown to you, and only on occasion would a photo get circulated of him with a woman caught in the mundane, never anything sensual or scandalous. They wouldn’t ever be seen together again, but never did any one of them ever say or do anything to indicate that something regretful befell their relationship—if that’s what one could call it.

“So, you’re one of Yuji’s friends that came to listen to the album?” Sukuna asked, drawing your attention back to him. You nearly died inside when you realized you had zoned out with your eyes on him, and the bemused look on his face told you he noticed.

“A friend of a friend,” you muttered, “but yes.” He didn’t say anything back and took the opportunity of silence to drag his eyes up and down your body once or twice. You were about to start squirming when he stood up from the table and made his way over to come to a stop a half step in front of you. He bit down on the corner of his lip, looking an awful lot like he was considering something, and as you went to open your mouth and ask, he lifted his hand and used it to gesture towards the kitchen exit.

“We shouldn’t keep them waiting,” he said, taking the lead and leaving the same way you came in. You followed after him, not quite walking next to him, but just a bit behind his shoulder.

The evening hours passed by you in something close to a fog. The group of you lounged in a great room overlooking a beautifully manicured backyard and a pool through glass french doors. Music was coming out of speakers you couldn’t discern the location of, and you spent the passing time furtively watching as Sukuna would come and go from the room, bringing a round of snacks or drinks and mingling for a few minutes before disappearing again. In between his comings and goings, the two of you would meet each other’s eyes for a fleeting second before returning to whatever conversation you each were having. At one point, Sukuna had leaned down over your chair to place down a platter of glasses, and it took all your self control to sit still as his torso passed over your shoulder and filled the space around your head with the smell of his cologne. The whole time you tried to focus on the music, as it was truly incredible—as expected for the three brothers—but a buzz of anticipation was building in your chest, and didn’t seem keen on tempering down. When nearly an hour passed since the last time Sukuna left the room and hadn’t returned, you resigned yourself to leaving without seeing him again that evening, especially now that Nobara, Yuji, Megumi, and Choso were chatting about some restaurant with a late-night menu and a hidden back room.

“Are you coming?” Nobara asked you. You considered it for a moment before responding.

“Well, I am hungry–,”

Movement from behind the group caught your attention and your breath stuttered in your chest when you caught sight of Sukuna leaning against the doorway, shaking his head slowly.

“–But I’m also pretty tired, so I think I’ll take a raincheck. I’ll have Toji come pick me up so I don’t keep you guys. I’ll just wait here if that’s okay?” Choso gave you a small nod while Yuji shot you a joyful grin, and then you were waving them off as they filtered out of the house, the front door closing with an audible click that echoed through the suddenly quiet house. Sukuna padded through the open lounge until he reached where you sat on one of the couches. The two of you observed each other briefly before he held out a hand in front of you and motioned with his head towards the french doors leading to the backyard and beyond.

“Follow me?”

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“Are you following me?”

Toji’s voice jerked you from whatever daydream you had been caught in, and you stared at him wide-eyed as he looked at you expectedly.

“I…I’m sorry, I was off in my own head,” you told him, shaking away the memories as you forced yourself to focus on what your bodyguard had been saying. “Can you repeat that?”

Toji looked at you strangely for another moment before cutting his eyes towards Nanami who sat across from you and next to your bodyguard in the back of a modified SUV. No one spoke for a minute, Nanami watching you with a knowing eye until Toji finally resumed conversation.

“In the hopes of keeping the evening incident free and mine and Nanami’s blood pressures low, let’s go over a list of things we aren’t going to do tonight, yeah?”

You had hoped the displeased look on your face would have kept Toji from continuing on with whatever was rolling around inside his head, but he didn’t seem any more likely to stop himself than you were likely to get your wish to go home.

“Can I opt out?”

“No,” he said firmly.

With a resigned sigh, you motioned Toji on with a wave of your hand.

“Number one, we will not insult Gojo Satoru to his face on camera, no matter how strong the temptation.”

You scoffed, leaning back in your seat to cross your arms and level Toji with a haughty stare. “I do have self control, thank you very much.”

He cocked a brow and returned your retort with a look of such blatant disbelief that you couldn’t help being offended.

“Number two,” he began pointedly, “we will not sneak off to inappropriate places with certain pink-haired rock stars to do very inappropriate things.”

The feeling of confident self-satisfaction disappeared as quickly as it had come.

“That was uncalled for,” you hissed, embarrassment flaring at how Toji laughed and even Nanami seemed to be fighting off a smile.

Traitor.

“Anything else then?” you asked. Toji’s smirk faltered and he shot a quick look down at his hands as if a page full of notes for his predetermined rules would appear out of thin air.

“Ah…no. That’s actually all I got.”

You rolled your eyes with a shake of your head and shifted your body towards Nanami, “Everything is set to happen according to what I asked for?”

Ever dutiful and prepared, Nanami gave you a nod as he whipped out his phone and grabbed a peculiar pair of glasses from his suit pocket to place high on the bridge of his nose.

“You are set to arrive on the red carpet five minutes after Gojo does. You’ll take photos individually, and then come together for more photos as previously discussed between you, him, and your producer.” Nanami glanced up at you, his eyes keenly aware of what you were doing with the demands you gave him, and you cursed his perceptiveness. There must have been something unwelcoming on your face because he continued on with a clearing of his throat.

“The two of you are seated on the other side of the room from ‘The Curses’, and you’ll be presenting the final award of the night with Gojo, of which the aforementioned band is not nominated, so there will be no chance of interaction in front of the general public. Other than a brief after-show interview with Gojo on the way out, there are no other requirements of you for the night.”

You let out a shaky exhale, wishing it would take along with it the jumble of nerves that had taken over your mind the last couple of days, only for them to have increased exponentially as the event of the evening neared. There wasn’t anything particularly worrisome that had happened recently, but this would be the first time you would see Sukuna in nearly two weeks, the longest the two of you had gone without seeing one another in the nine or so months since this…thing between the two of you began. Everything was fine, you had been telling yourself, despite getting antsy from the absolute undoing that you and Sukuna seemed to be on the precipice of. You’d be fine with nothing more from him than secret meetings and unspoken feelings, just like you’d be fine if the two of you walked away from each other with nothing but memories behind you.

Liar, liar, liar.

You felt the car begin to creep to a slow halt, and you anticipated no more than a minute or two to check your appearance before you were expected to exit the vehicle and parade yourself down a carpet lined with photographers.

“Do I look okay?” you asked, nervously glancing up at Nanami and Toji as the routine nerves that accompanied huge events like this began to make you tremble slightly.

“You look gorgeous,” Toji encouraged, offering you a quirk of his lips as Nanami echoed his statement, “the dress was a good pick.”

You took a glimpse down at the garment, noting how it melded to your form in some places and flowed in draping waves in the next. Your chest and shoulders were left bare, just a skimpy pair of wilting sleeves falling down your upper arms until they nearly brushed your elbows. In place of a high neck or straps, a necklace of diamonds wrapped around your neck, settling over your collar bone and dripping down a small delicate line to dangle between your shoulder blades. If someone asked you about the color of the dress, you’d insist that you singled it out from a litany of others because it would perfectly compliment the navy of Satoru’s suit and that it had absolutely nothing to do with its burgundy brown hue that reminded you of Sukuna’s eyes.

“It’s time,” Nanami announced, and you watched with bated breath as Toji exited the vehicle, knowing he would appear to open your door in the next couple seconds. “We’ll be waiting for you here in the car when the evening is over.” You replied with a nod and scooched to the edge of the seats as Toji pulled the door open, leaning in with his hand out to assist you out of the car.

“Have a fun evening, Princess,” he said, flashing you a quick wink as you took your first step onto the concrete. The red carpet started just a few feet in front of you, and you could hear a roar of voices and the shuttering of cameras as photographers got wind of your arrival. You bid Toji goodbye with a small wave and took off down the path in a mellow walk, concentrating on pasting a dazzling smile on your face and kicking the front of your dress out of your way on the side that wasn’t slit halfway up your thigh. You stopped midway down the carpet and allowed for the flashing of cameras to work you into a mindless daze. Occasionally, you would change which hip you leaned on or would turn to offer a demure smile over your shoulder. When the shouting escalated, you looked to your right and watched as Satoru sauntered up to your side.

“Hey,” he greeted you, sliding an arm low on your back and grinning down at you, “how’s your evening so far?”

“Well, my boobs are being held up with something akin to duck tape. How do you think I’m doing?” Satoru grimaced at your words and you couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of you. In true fashion, the cameras were quick to shutter their lenses to capture the interaction.

“Despite filling my head with that painful image, you should know you look stunning—if it isn’t obvious.”

“Thank you,” you told him, still smiling through the words for the sake of the photos. You broke your focus away from the barrage of flickering light and studied him out of the corner of your eye. His navy suit was tailored to fit his exact form, skimming over his body in a way that even you could admit was mouthwatering. The color offered stark contrast against the paleness of his skin and white of his hair, but did nothing to detract from the captivating cerulean of his eyes. Not that you thought there was anything existing that could. “You look handsome, Satoru.”

Your co-star turned to you with a brilliant smile on his face, the lines at his eyes tightening with the motion, and exclaimed, “Don’t I know it!” You scoffed good naturedly.

Only another minute went by before Satoru was suddenly pulling away from you, dropping his arm from your back to take a step behind and around you, only to appear again on your left side. Before you could question him, you felt his hand slide across your shoulder to tease at the rope of diamonds at your back, the whispers of his fingers against your skin causing you to shiver. He only paused there for a heartbeat or two before his hand continued on to smooth down your side and come to a stop to rest over your right hip. His fingers curled into the fabric of your dress slightly, and he used his grip to haul you against his side. You thought nothing of it, considering it Satoru’s usual antics all done in the name of offering a convincing performance for the sake of padding your pockets. You didn’t think twice as you leaned into it, nor did you break far from him as the two of you walked away from the unrelenting photographers and found solace in the covered entryway leading into the event center. Nothing about the situation would have made you stop to ponder it beyond thinking of what a pretty photo it would make, not until you happened to catch a glimpse of pink hair weaving in and out of the crowd ahead of you before disappearing through double doors.

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In the time following the red carpet, you and Satoru found yourselves seated in the grand auditorium, placed at a nondescript white table that sat next to many others as they all curved around the stage in a crescent shape. In a silent, grateful prayer to Nanami, you were relieved to find that Sukuna’s table, where he was joined by his brothers and their friends, was situated behind you and at a far enough distance that you didn’t have to worry about catching glimpses of him out of your peripheral vision. In an effort to further distract yourself, you dove into the dinner that was sitting in front of you and continued to mingle on and off with Satoru and other famous acquaintances.

The night carried on without cause for concern, moments of conversation paused as awards were announced and speeches were given. You clapped when it was called for. You smiled accordingly when a camera passed in front of your table. You even remained perfectly composed when the show went to commercial and the stage came alive with movement as staff prepared it for the biggest performance of the evening. It wasn’t until Yuji, Choso, and Sukuna appeared at the corner leading to backstage that your heart started to hammer in your chest. They looked out over the floor and to the audience with mild disinterest, talking amongst themselves and occasionally pointing towards something on the stage as instruments were brought out and microphones were adjusted on their stands. You just barely managed to flit your gaze away from them as Sukuna turned his head and seemed to spot you in the crowd.

“What’s wrong with you?” Satoru asked lazily, his elbow braced on the table so he could drift into your space. You raised your brows at him, fiddling with a ring adorning your finger.

“There’s nothing wrong,” you told him, but even you weren’t convinced by the strained nonchalance in your tone.

“Really?” He asked, drawing out the first syllable in a way that told you he had seen right through you, “because your secret lover has been tossing glimpses your way and not once have you looked back at him in that adoring way of yours. Trouble in paradise?”

You sputtered, “No! Nothing’s wrong!”

Liar, liar, liar.

Before you could try and further convince Satoru of something you probably didn’t even believe yourself, the lights in the auditorium suddenly went dark, and there was a collective gasp from the audience as a dark red haze illuminated the silhouettes of Sukuna and his brothers in all their glory on stage. Your stomach fell out from under you in a sickening swoop, and you clenched your fingers into the napkin in your lap to give them something to do, lest you begin picking at your manicure.

You watched with nervous anticipation as a few more dim lights turned on, and it was just enough to see the band as they formed a triangle in their designated positions. Sukuna was at the very front with an electric guitar in hand and a microphone in front of his mouth. Choso and Yuji were situated parallel to each other a ways behind their elder brother, one seated at a drum set and the other standing at a keyboard, respectively. At the very back of the stage a congregation of other musicians and staff were there to offer their required support.

There was one second before Sukuna began playing his guitar that you contemplated sneaking off to the bathroom for the entirety of the performance, but his eyes flashed to you ever so briefly, and it was enough to pin you to your chair. He didn’t stray his gaze your way again as he opened his mouth to begin singing.

Even in spite of the turmoil swirling around inside of you, there was no denying how magnetizing Sukuna looked on stage. His hair was done in its normal style, but gleamed under the light from the pomade that held it in place. His suit was black and the shirt under it—which you could’ve sworn was the same swatch of color as your dress in this light—was opened one or two buttons more than usual, allowing the jagged black shapes of the tattoos on his chest to peek out.

Sukuna wasn’t known for being overly energetic on stage and didn’t jump around from place to place. He stayed rooted at his spot in front of the microphone, only dropping back to play next to one of his brothers if a particular moment in a song allowed for it. Instead, it was the subtle movement of his body that so captivated people. At more than one performance of theirs, you had been distracted by the way he would trace his fingertips up and around the microphone stand as he sang, knowing he had done the same thing against your spine the night prior. You’d once gotten caught up in the slow gyration of his hips as he matched a beat, or even lost your train of thought at the way his shoulders would glide along with a rhythm one of his brothers would play. All of it, every little move and dip and ounce of him kept you completely enthralled, hanging off every word that came out of Sukuna’s mouth, and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

“...Cause it’s not just a figure of speech, you got me down on my knees, it’s getting harder to breathe out…”

Right, cause that’s believable.

“...I’d take you back to my house so we can meddle about…”

The hand that had been reaching for the glass of water in front of you spasmed, and you just narrowly avoided spilling it all over your neighbor’s dinner plate as you scrambled to keep it upright. You felt your mouth part as your breath left you in a strangled gasp and you could no more keep your head from snapping up towards him than you could forget exactly as to what he was referring to.

“Tell me,” you started, turning around to walk backwards and grin at him as the two of you followed the cobblestone path that connected the main house to the equally impressive guest lodge that Sukuna called his own, “what is there to do in this grand ol’ house of yours?”

He let out a small laugh through his nose and reached out a hand to grasp your arm when you teetered just slightly on a loose rock. You flashed him a grateful smile.

“Well, there’s a fully stocked gourmet kitchen if you’re still hungry for a late night snack.”

“Mhm, tempting,” you said, pretending to consider it as you fell back to walk normally at his side, “what else?”

“There’s a library. Aside from books we’ve all collected over the years, it's full of some eclectic poetry and a couple of paintings, amongst other things.”

“Intriguing. I’ll make sure to remember that for next time.” You had hoped it came off as interested and flirty, but not too presumptuous. It was hard to gauge his expression in the fleeting flashes of light that were cast upon one side of his face by the lanterns that littered the walkway. “Anything else?”

The two of you had just stepped into the alcove of his front door, and you used the small space to justify taking a half step closer as you tipped your head to look up at him. Sukuna was quiet for a moment, glancing away at the door, and then turned back towards you.

“It depends,” he said, shrugging lightly, “we could just kind of meddle about.”

You tilted your head to one side, unsure of exactly what he was implying. “What does that mean?”

Sukuna lips curled into a dangerous smile, his eyes closing slightly and in a way that felt daring, and he jerked his head towards the front door. “Why don’t we find out?”

All the memories involved in “finding out” that night rushed back in a flurry, flipping before your eyes as you struggled to wade through them while also focusing on the performance in front of you.

How it felt to kiss him for the first time. Sukuna had pulled you through the open front door only to push you back against it as soon as it closed. He continued kissing you in between hurried steps down a faintly lit hallway.

The urgent shuffle towards the bed, his room dark in color, but not nearly as cold and moody as you would have imagined. The way his hands traveled over every inch of you, grasping at your shirt to tug it over your head and peeling your bra straps down your shoulder so he could run his nose along your collarbone unencumbered.

Your small squeak of surprise when he finally removed his clothes and you were able to see exactly where else those tantalizing black tattoos marked his body, and the strangled noise he had let out when you dropped to your knees to kiss and lick a trail of them, starting from the tops of his thighs, to his chest, and eventually stopping to nip at one that curved over his shoulder.

You heard Satoru asking if you were okay, but he sounded miles away, muffled by the music, the excitement of the audience, and what was going on in your head. You felt similar to that moment, when the two of you were walking to his house and you had stumbled on a rock, and just before Sukuna had stabilized you, you had felt a flip through your stomach as you anticipated falling backwards.

The ghosting of his lips down your neck before he went farther down to mouth at your breasts. His weight pressed you into the plushness of his mattress and the muscles in his arms bowed and flexed with his movement. How your legs had parted to make room for him to settle between your thighs, and the way the fullness of him the first moment he was inside you had your back arching and the air in your lungs escaping with a gasp. Sukuna had sounded equally as wrecked. And in the end—some indistinguishable amount of time later from that first moment—when you had finished yet again, he followed right behind you, clutching you to his chest and groaning in your ear in a way that gave you goosebumps.

“Hey!” You felt an arm twine around your lower back as Satoru’s mouth brushed up against your ear. “Are you okay? I’ve called your name a couple times already?”

You turned to Satoru with a stricken look on your face, unsure of what to do other than shake your head at him and try to wrangle your features into something neutral. You ignored his concerned touch to your shoulder and reached out to take the glass of water in your hand you nearly spilled minutes ago and gulped the whole thing down in just a couple swallows.

You could begrudgingly admit to yourself when you were lying about what this whole involvement with Sukuna meant to you, if for nothing else than to protect your heart and mind. You knew you wanted him, and in more than just a lust-driven way. And you knew he wanted you, but were unsure if that desire ventured beyond the realm of physicality. But, if the way Sukuna let his eyes linger on you for the second time during his performance, and how he stumbled over his words and feet that day at the beach in a way that was undoubtedly uncharacteristic of himself, you would wager pieces of yourself that he had to be conflicted over it too.

The band’s performance wound down and finished with a flourish of grand applause and raucous cheering, and you clapped robotically as to not stand out from those sitting around you. Chatter continued amongst the room, and only a few minutes passed as the stage was being cleared before you and Satoru were fetched to present the final award of the night. The two of you lingered backstage until the cameras resumed rolling and a thick white envelope was pressed into your hand. Satoru held his arm out to you, and you tucked your hand into the crook of his elbow so he could lead the two of you out and onto the stage. You managed to keep an easy expression on your face and a cheerful smile stretched over your lips. You bantered with Satoru at the designated prompts and shouted gleefully when the two of you announced the winner of the award, before you both were swept away and set free from contractual obligations.

“I’m so sick of this damned dress,” you complained, yanking the fabric at your chest upwards as the sweat garnered from the sheer amount of nerves you had the entire evening was causing it to slip. You and Satoru hurried down the hallway exit to where reporters were waiting to get their post-show interviews, and you couldn’t tell if you kept your pace quick because of your intense desire to go home or because you desperately wanted to avoid running into a particular someone.

“That’s a shame,” Satoru pouted, batting his eyelashes at you in a way that was supposed to be endearing, but really just came across looking like he had something in his eyes. “I really like it.”

“You wear it then!” That got a hearty laugh out of him, and you were grateful when the joy of it actually lightened just a little the heavy pressure in your chest. Satoru recovered himself as the two of you were stopped by a reporter and began answering the relatively harmless questions about your shared movie and experiences working with each other. It was mindless work, and you could tell that the reporter was nearly finished before they turned to you and asked you a question directly.

“Tell us,” they began excitedly, “what did you think about ‘The Curses’ performance and the new song they debuted tonight?” With a tilt of their microphone in your direction, they watched you expectedly, and you scrambled to come up with something that would sound objectively positive.

You wished Sukuna would use actual words and tell you directly what he felt about you instead of hiding it in a song.

You wished he would leave you alone if he wanted nothing more than for someone to warm his bed when he felt like it.

You wished you felt nothing.

“I think the sound was great and typical of them, even if the lyrics seemed atypical. It'll be interesting to see what the band puts out together going forward. What did you think, Satoru?” You swung your head towards your co-star, rerouting the reporter’s attention to hopefully prevent any more questions regarding Sukuna and his band from being presented to you.

“Oh, yes, I agree with what she said,” Satoru replied, nodding his head as a mischievous twitch of his lips had you narrowing your eyes at him. “Although, I find the idea of the “King of Curses” being on his knees for anyone hard to believe.” Satoru gave a small, sad shake of his head and looked over at you.

Oh, god.

“I pity Sukuna if he’s never given himself a chance to experience such a thing. I can tell you, Princess here is a sight to behold from down below on one’s knees.” His bold declaration had you—and the reporter— staring at him with mouths agape, both of you taken aback by his brazenness. It took Satoru winking at you before your brain would begin working again.

“He, uhm, he’s referencing a scene from our movie! Please understand, he’s referencing a scene from our upcoming movie and nothing more, I swear!” You nearly shouted, throwing your hands out towards them to plead your case, lest you wake up in the morning to headlines talking about Gojo Satoru putting his head in places it absolutely didn’t belong. The reporter nodded slowly, eyes wide and vaguely disturbed, and borderline hysterical laughter made its way out of your mouth as Satoru thanked them for their time and ushered you down the rest of the way to where SUVs were waiting to pick up their assigned passengers.

“You seem to exist only for the purpose of wreaking absolute havoc on those around you, Satoru, and I’m not sure what I did to deserve being on the receiving end of it,” you lamented to him, watching in sheer exhaustion as he raised his arm to wiggle his fingers at one of the vehicles at the end of the line.

“Don’t lie and act like I don’t enrich your life,” he teased, and if you detected the slightest hint of vulnerability in his eyes, it was gone before you could give it any more consideration. “Besides, I made you laugh. You looked like you needed it.”

Perhaps you didn’t give Satoru enough credit, nor had you even stopped to realize what a good friend he could be. At least when he wasn’t implying to the world that the two of you had seen each other naked, or trespassing onto your property in the wee hours of the morning. And because you knew he was right, you wrapped your arms around his waist and squeezed, feeling more comfort than you had in days when he threw an arm around your shoulders and returned the hug with equal gusto.

“Now go,” he told you, dropping a quick kiss to your temple and pushing you towards a black SUV that had just pulled up on the street in front of you. Toji stepped out from around it, shooting you a grin, and opened the door to reveal Nanami sitting inside.

“Thank you, Satoru,” you told him, and gathered the skirt of your dress in your hands so you could step into the car. You felt Toji’s hand against your back to offer support as you climbed in and you collapsed into the seat next to Nanami with an exaggerated groan of relief.

“Pleasant evening?” He inquired, a smooth blonde brow arching upwards as he moved his attention from his phone to your slouched position in the seat.

“I heard your boy toy confessed his love through song in front of a live audience. How romantic,” Toji snarked, shutting the door behind him as he took his spot across from you and Nanami.

“That’s not what happened,” you snapped at him, “and how do you even know about that?”

Toji shrugged in that annoying way of his, not bothering to hide his shit-eating grin either, and you figured you were better off not knowing. Letting out a sigh, you lifted your legs and dropped your feet into his lap, heels and all, and raised your brows at him in expectation. He grimaced, glancing down at your shoes with trepidation before shaking his head. You snarled at him as best you could, feeling triumphant once he curled his lip but proceeded to unbuckle and pull off each shoe from your feet before swiping them off his lap. You snickered.

“Children, the both of you,” Nanami grumbled, but didn’t say anything more as he leaned his head back against his seat and let his eyes drift closed. The rest of the drive home passed in silence. Toji played some mindless game on his phone, Nanami kept his eyes shut, and you stewed in your own messy thoughts, convincing yourself you had all of this rightfully figured out and would be perfectly content with whatever outcome prevailed.

Liar, liar, liar.

Once the three of you arrived back at your home, Nanami was quick to bid you and Toji goodbye before leaving in his car. Your bodyguard disappeared into your kitchen, and you went upstairs to your room where you spent twenty minutes prying yourself out of your dress and another ten putting it—and the stunning set of diamonds—into their packaging to be sent back to their respective lenders. You had just left your bathroom after finishing your nighttime routine when your phone dinged twice. With half a mind to leave the message unread and simply throw your phone out the window, you went about getting dressed in a soft set of lounge clothes and rubbing some lotion into your hands. You were about to go downstairs to get a snack when another notification sounded through your room, and this time you had no self control left to keep yourself from reaching from your phone.

Sukuna: I would like to speak with you tonight. If you’re willing.

Sukuna: I can come to you.

Sukuna: Don’t ignore me either.

You grumbled incoherently at your phone, feeling both somewhat relieved that Sukuna had reached out to you, and also like you were one more message away from throwing up. With that in mind, you sent him a quick text back, ultimately deciding that you would know no peace until all of this was hashed out between the two of you.

You: Be there in 15.

You desperately needed the time it would take to drive to his house to formulate a rough idea of what you wanted to say to Sukuna, as well as wanting the opportunity to flee the scene in your own vehicle if it came to that. After grabbing your keys from your dresser and sliding your feet into a pair of casual shoes, you made your way downstairs and out the door. You were grateful that Toji was nowhere to be seen. While he would surely hear about what happened from you in the next day or so, you weren’t keen on having his knowing gaze on you as marched out the door in an outfit akin to pajamas at nearly eleven thirty at night.

You arrived at Sukuna’s house a short time later, having spent the entire drive singing some random song at the top of your lungs to avoid having to think about anything other than keeping your car straight and centered on the road. You nearly threw it back into reverse and peeled out of the driveway when you spotted him standing outside his front door, arms crossed in front of his chest. He had clearly been waiting for you to arrive, and you had to swallow back a knot in your throat as you got out of your car and approached him.

“Hi,” you called out tentatively, taking note that he too was in lounging clothes, and you wondered for a second if he had been intending to sleep away the night’s events before something compelled him to message you. Sukuna nodded at you, only murmuring back a quick greeting before grabbing you around the wrist and pulling you through the front door. He didn’t stop once he closed the door behind you, instead leading you down the hall until you reached his bedroom. You shook your wrist from his grip and took your spot a couple feet across from him while he chose to lean back against his bed. You needed the distance between the two of you to think, to breathe, and to simply resist the overwhelming urge to throw yourself at him. Because looking at him now, as you could hear his earlier lyrics echoing inside your head, you were sure that you wanted nothing more than to be with him, to never leave him, and you desperately hoped that he felt the same way too.

“You lied to me,” you blurted out, “on the beach that day. You said you’d never write anything that could be considered romantic. What changed?”

“I don’t know if you could necessarily consider that song romantic,” Sukuna said, crossing his arms again so he could drum his fingers against his bicep, “a bit reminiscent maybe, or a touch lustful would be better.”

“Semantics, then,” you replied, starting to feel somewhat put off at his blasé attitude that you had noticed the second you saw him, “but you weren’t exactly being subtle. “Meddle about” doesn’t have to refer to me specifically at every given moment, but if it doesn’t at all, you did a poor job of convincing me that I…we…that night are not the muse for that particular lyric. I would argue that having a muse like that in the first place could be considered romantic given our involvement with each other.”

Sukuna was quiet, and didn’t offer any physical indication as to what he was thinking or feeling about what you had said. It was starting to make you angry, and you moved a touch closer to him.

“If you don’t care, if you don’t want me, you should just be honest.” His jaw clenched tight, and you hoped if you pushed just far enough you could figure out what was going on inside that head of his.

“I never said that,” he growled, standing up from his place against the bed and taking a step towards you.

“But you’re not saying anything else either!” You said, your voice raising in frustration. “I know I never told you anything different, so I’m willing to be patient with you for a time while you figure out how you feel, but I would like to do more than this with someone, and right now, that person is you.” You paused for a moment to catch your breath and noted how his eyes lit up subtly. “However, I will not continue to have us dance around each other like this forever. I know a significant part of our lives will always be subject to a large amount of scrutiny and prying eyes, but somewhere, someone is out there who would be willing to do it with me.”

Any previous emotion that had been on his face was wiped clear. “That’s not fair,” Sukuna spat out, hands clenching and unclenching at his side, and you were appalled by the nerve he had.

“It’s a hundred percent fair!” you yelled, closing the distance between you two so you could jab a finger into his chest. “Just because you don’t want me doesn’t mean you can keep me from anyone else!”

“I. Never. Said. That.”

“Then say something different! Or else I won’t believe you.” Your head jerked up close to his as you grit your words out between your teeth. Both your chests were rising in rapid succession, tension and nerves escalating in your bodies as the two of you stared each other down, neither of you willing—or brave enough—to bend the first knee.

Sukuna did, however, smash his lips against yours. It took you by surprise, how hard he pressed his mouth to yours, and just how quickly it wiped your head clear of all thoughts except for how his body felt against yours. It was exhilarating and delectable and everything you wanted, but you refused to follow him into bed one last time before addressing what would happen after. You ripped away from him, slapping your palms against his chest to keep space, but the way his hands clutched desperately at the tops of your arms and his head bobbed down towards yours in an effort to reconnect your lips nearly made you falter.

“I want this with you,” you said quietly, sliding your hands down Sukuna’s chest to splay out your fingers against the solid planes of his abdominal muscles and letting your thumbs slip ever so slightly under the waistband of his pants as you locked eyes with him,“but not without all of you. Otherwise, I can find this elsewhere.”

His eyes narrowed and a snarl scrunched his nose while the grip he had on your arms tightened. “You’re being a brat.”

You laughed bitterly. “You know, that’s the second time you’ve called me that, but I don’t think I like it as much this time. Doesn’t quite sound the same, don’t you think?”

“Ah,” he sneered, “she’s perceptive.”

“Enough to know that you’re stalling,” you countered. He didn’t say anything back, but his eyes bounced between yours, asking for something, pleading with you for just one more minute. You were willing to give it to him, but only according to how you wanted to.

“If you’re not able to continue this any further,” you said to him, “and the lyrics in that song don’t have any deeper meaning, then you don’t care if I walk right out of this room, do you?”

You were vaguely aware that Sukuna was allowing you to push him around, to act like you had an equal measure of control in this dark room of his. And just maybe, if you thought about it enough, you did. Because he didn’t protest when you urged him backwards onto his bed with the hands still on his chest. He said nothing when you landed in his lap, thighs spread to straddle his hips. He didn’t resist when you dug your fingers into his hair, as soft as it was pink, to drag his head back so you could look him in the eyes.

“Exactly,” he bit out, but his hands danced over your waist and then used the fabric bunching at your hips to close the distance between your chests. You giggled lowly in his ear, dragging your lips down his jaw before coming to a stop over his so your mouths could hover a breath apart from each other.

“You’re brave to lie to me as I sit here perched on your lap. Don’t you know I can tell that your heart isn’t the only thing throbbing?” You ground your hips down onto his with as much force as you could muster, and his answering moan nearly had you giving in, ready to forgo the difficulty of talking through emotions to satiate the desperate need to have him. But, for the sake of your own bleeding heart, you resisted, sitting back on Sukuna’s thighs and hoping your pleading expression conveyed everything you couldn’t say.

Please, put me out of my misery.

“We are at an impasse, it seems.” Sukuna’s voice was low and neutral, and it slid through your ears and nestled painfully in your gut.

“It seems we are,” you whispered. Your voice was hollow and final.

Please, let me run, let me hide, let more go somewhere you’ll never find me.

You wanted nothing more than to slink back home and huddle under your blankets than spend another moment in here with him, convinced he would prefer the two of you part ways just because he refused to be vulnerable, and you made a move to swing your leg off him when Sukuna twisted and in the next breath you were under him.

“Here’s what I know,” he said, letting his body settle down on top of yours, and you noticed that his eyes were brighter and the corners of his mouth were ticking upwards in a smile he couldn’t fight. His voice was light and optimistic. “I am stubborn to a massive fault, and I have not been fair to you in how I have behaved and approached my feelings for you. I am sorry.”

A shaky breath of relief passed from your mouth and you opened it to reassure him—,

“I also know that I would prefer it if Gojo Satoru never came within 100 feet of you again.”

Your eyes bulged as a fit of laughter replaced whatever words were at the tip of your tongue, unable to control the amusement that followed his declaration. Sukuna eyed you warily, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to muffle any more sounds in order to encourage him to continue.

“However, I know that is irrational and improbable given your careers, so I will be content with hoping that by making this relationship between us official, he will have to respect some obvious boundaries.” Sukuna sounded quite proud of himself, smirking down at you with a cheeky gleam in his eyes. You didn’t have the heart to tell him that doing such a thing, while lovely, would have no effect on Satoru’s inability to acknowledge, let alone follow, said boundaries.

“Noble,” you quipped back at him, utterly transfixed by the way he nuzzled his nose against yours, “and something I can happily agree to.”

Sukuna grinned, all white teeth and slightly dimpled cheeks, and you went to throw your arms around his neck when, suddenly, he was no longer over you, but standing at the edge of the bed as he dragged you by your ankles towards him. He kept his eyes on you as he tugged your pants down your legs and threw them over his shoulder. In the next moment, he was sliding to his knees in front of you, kissing his way down your leg.

“What are you doing?” you asked, propping yourself up on your elbows to get a better view of him. You didn’t need to clarify what specifically he was about to do. There had been numerous times before this one where Sukuna had his head between your legs. You couldn’t begin to count how many instances you had hovered over his face, fingers clenched around his headboard as he drew circles with his tongue, nor could you recall exactly which surfaces in his home he had spread you out on, his mouth already on you as he pulled your legs around his ears because he couldn’t wait to get to his bedroom. That being said, it was a bit of a shame to admit that you hadn’t ever seen him on his knees before you.

“I’ll be damned,” Sukuna growled, already slipping his fingers into the band of your underwear to shimmy them out from under you and toss them in the same direction as your pants, “if I go another day knowing Gojo Satoru has seen you from an angle I have not.” And with that, he grabbed your thighs and spread them open around his head as you tangled your fingers in his hair.

“Well,” you breathed out, throwing your head back as your eyes fluttered shut, “we can’t have that, now can we?”

————————————————————————————————-

Thank you to everyone who has taken time to read this little series! It means a lot!

As I mentioned above, this is the last major update for what I had originally planned out for this fic. I will happily write little extra bits if/when inspiration strikes or if anyone has any suggestions.

Also, please forgive me if this part seems less flowing/has worse pacing than the others. I am going through it as I try to fight off some cold or virus over the last couple days and just needed to get this out.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryomen sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader

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bloodyymaryyy · 3 days

Text

Gossip girl xoxo

Part 4

Part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / masterlist

Warnings : mention of underage drinking but other than that don't know

((Side note : apparently you guys like the series so what you want you take my beautiful people! I love you guys! Anyway I saw what happened with lando and I had to make that in here! Also something is coming soon I don't know if you will like it but I will enjoy writing so 🤷‍♀️))

Texts with lando

You : hi lan!

Landinio : hey!

You: I heard that you are going to the boat party tomorrow with Martin

Landinio : yeah I am what's up?

You : well I got invited for some reason too and wanted to know if you will go with martin or you could carpool with me! I have the lambo here!

Landinio : OH SHIT! I am texting with will rn to cancel on him! There is no way I am missing the lambo ride with you!

You: okay sweet just text me when are you meeting and here you are staying at to come get you because I am out rn. Ttyl x!

Landinio : oh 😏 with who?

You : none of your bizz bye!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Texts between martin and lando

Lando : hey martin sorry to cancel last minute but y/n is coming and she has her lambo here and I won't find another chance to rice that thing so... Sorry again!

Will : oh it's nothing I understand I would too!

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

After picking up lando from his hotel we headed out towards the boat taking empty wide roads to really drive the thing, drifting and doing a few donuts in an empty parking lot just for the thrill of it but making sure to actually arrive in the boat party you both got out of the car talking and laughing entering and finding Martin by the dj booth.

Greetings were exchanged talking and laughing until the second round of drinks that started to kick in hopping around, dancing and sings to the rhythm being surrounded by the Dutch men.

You two weren't fazed by the phones recording your every move because you were having fun and a little tipsy, not that you would admit it both to anyone that in fact you were drunk continuing with the drinks and having fun and just as you were getting drinks you got elbowed in the face not really hard but enough to cause a little mountain the next hour not really noticeable.

Lando in the other hand just as you were nearing him again was hit or something because his nose was bleeding you drank both of them quickly and ran up to him while near you can see the bloody roll down in this lips and teeth he smiled at you teeth bloody, you started to laugh at the situation. Someone had a first aid kit and you cleaned the wound putting a plaster on the cut and a bandage wrapped around his head loosely because you were drunk it was going to be messy.

When you finished you started to laugh again at his stupid look he looked like a mummy but who cares? You two didn't nor did the men around you so you both continued dancing, bouncing, shouting lyrics and drinking again. You weren't piss drunk you could think and walk straight and so was lando, playing some songs with martin lando djing for a bit so will could take a break, talking to you laughing and gossiping about news lately and having fun and creating the mood for the actual club that Will, Lando and you will be going to after the pre party in the boat. You were sure you will regret going to another club but current you don't care about it, future you maybe.

You weren't a light weight by any means, starting drinking from a young age and in your teenage years going out drinking almost everyday drinking made it hard for you to get drunk so you were good by half of the actual party in the club but you wouldn't say lando was the same...

Cutting your night in the what you seen fit as to lando wouldn't start throwing up but you could see he was ready to do anyway calling a taxi and telling him the directions of your hotel so you won't drive while drunk.

Taking him by his bicep and wrapping one hand around his shoulder and the other in his arm you payed for the drinks you ordered and left, waiting for the taxi to arrive he was talking to you, whispered things, making sentences up that made no sense, talking gibberish almost falling in his face while you were laughing and loose the grip around him and quickly regaining strength keeping his upright the taxi finally arrived.

Getting him inside and going arout the car so you could take care of him he laid his head in your lap while you slowly and softly graced your hand through his brown curls and stroking his cheek softly while he closed his eyes smiled and opening one eye to look up at you periodically while you made small conversations with the driver which was a fan of the sport and you learned his daughter's favourite driver was you from a young age looking up at you and asking for a photo with you, he wanted a photo with lando but he was asleep so you decided against it, when you arrived you took his phone got a selfie with him and one alone from a high angle so he was visible but not his face just his hat and hoodie that he got out with, you paid the driver and slowly got out of the car and went around the car again opening the door taking his hand waking him up a little so he can get out but he feel asleep again on you as you closed the door.

You again wrapped a hand around him and holding his other firmly you opened the hotel door and getting inside the building, the receptionist was eyeing you but you didn't care you were determined to get him safe and tugged in, heading in the elevator you waited for the doors to close and pressing the button of your level.looking at the mirror you see on your dress a bit of blood from lando's nose you looked a bit disheveled with your eye sparkly eyeshadow somehow under your eye, the lipstick long gone now in its place your lip pencil a bit smeared around the corners of your mouth, in your forehead a little knob and in lando having his head buried in your neck seamingly asleep by his slow rhythmed breathing that was hitting your neck practically hugging you, the elevator pinged letting you know that you got to your floor you started trying to wake him up to stop hugging you but he didn't budged you decide to just carry him to your door which was easier taking out your card key which luckily you took out of your wallet in the taxi and opened the door.

Upon entering you left him to the bed trying once again to gently wake him up so he could change, you left the club at 4 :30 and now you read the clock it said 5 : 30 so you did all of this in an hour and in heels... He is gonna pay fro this but for now you laid a hoodie that you had oversized and long shorts again oversized that you knew that would fit you took your pj's and headed to the bathroom, you washed your face to get rid of the make up and changed out of the dress and heels.

Going again the the bed you saw lando's clothes messily tossed around the side of the bed he was occupying and in your clothes, the hoodie was one of your merch with a red bull logo in the back and you are not gonna tell that to him, wanting him to walk out with it, he was lying in your bed the covers covering most of him but his back and head out you took a picture and tugged him in and walking to your side of the bed pulling up the covers and getting in falling asleep almost instantly, felling a pair of hands wrapping around you and a head to your neck going closer to lando cuddling up on you and falling asleep peacefully

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Waking up in the morning was a struggle, you wouldn't say it was really a morning but evening waking up at 1pm by calls on your phone. Lando still asleep but starting to stir awake too by the annoying ringing of your phone you took your phone from the night stand you answered the phone without looking who it was

It was max

( the convo went like this)

Red : max / pink : y/n

Y/n? Why aren't you answering my calls? I have been calling you non stop from the morning where are you?

Max lower your voice... I have been sleeping what do you want? I am in my hotel room rn sleeping

Why are you still sleeping? What time did you leave the club last night?

4:30

Why? How did you get to the hotel?

Omg max can you interrogate me later? Let me sleep man...( a raspy voice could be heard in the background : stop talkinggg and then a sigh) shut up. Anyway I will call you back lat-

No! No don't fucking hang up! Are you with someone I heard a man! Who is he?!

Omg max! It's lando what do you want? I will talk to you later good bye!

I said and hand up the call not waiting for max to reply and rolled over now cuddling lando and falling asleep again for a few minutes then waking up by lando leaving the bed.

After he got a shower he came back and by then I dressed up to get food because I was starving waiting for lando you go together. We did you got a few pictures with fan and got food.

After that you called max and explained everything at some point max came with us to a few stored and hung out together and took max's plane and went to Monaco each to their own homes.

That's it thank you! ( not the end of the series tho)

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orbdotexe · 5 months

Text

A new Lightbearer breathes his first panicked breaths, throwing the blanket off his resting place, and finds himself in a world that instead takes pity on him—Much to his displeasure. But he’s been having strange dreams, and everyone warns him away from some strange… person? As more time goes on, and the warnings compound—he’s less and less sure of that notion, or if they even exist.

The brainworms said "what about Crow pre-Vanguard?? he was never in Spider's 'employ' in TFE!" and so here's some Salty Crow and the start of him being determined to figure out who killed him!

Mind: the divide is a time skip, to when Crow is out of the Dreaming City-- and this is the armor I use for the YW, since I don't give much detail. Anyway, Crow's Rez, "Bury Me Shallow":

— — —

“Who was buried up there?”

“I’m sorry?”

“I mean- No offense. Just… he seemed important.”

“...You don’t know?” The Corsair eyes him, wary.

“Know what?”

She takes a moment to study his face, though it’s shadowed by his hood and the sharp light behind him. It feels like she’s trying to flip through torn out pages and looks like she cut her fingers open on the shreds— He resists drawing any further in on himself.

“...Nevermind.” She scans his disheveled outfit, “You’re a Guardian?”

“Not sure what it means, but that seems to be the consensus,” he replies, mentally bristling at the judgmental tone. How can someone tell by just the clothing? Why would he be buried in this if it was that bad?

…Oh. Right. He was buried in it.

Well, maybe buried wasn’t the right word—There was just a blanket thrown over him, laying on some stone slab.

Not much of a burial. Could just be how the dead are treated, though.

“You haven’t spoken to any of your… lot, yet, either?” The corsair asks, some disdain in her words. He’s been hearing that tone a lot on the subject of Guardians, though not at him. If he’s one of them, shouldn’t she be disgusted by him, as well?

“Ah… no. I’ve seen some around, but haven’t gotten to speak to any. They seem awfully busy.” It’s not exactly a lie, but he hasn’t exactly tried to speak to them at all.

The thought of approaching one makes him nervous.

She snorts, “Busy is one way to put it.” There’s that resentment again.

He doesn’t think he will ever understand why. It seems the Guardians are trying to help, so why does almost everyone he talks to seem to hate them? Well, there have been a few Corsairs that seemed more thankful for the help, but… Most aren’t.

In the ensuing awkward silence, the Corsair seems to get a call in her helmet, turning away from him and murmuring into nothing. He can’t pick any of it up, though it sounds urgent, and she shoulders her rifle.

He can’t help but sigh quietly, knowing that meant no real conversations for another week or so.

She huffs after a few more moments, and sighs. “Well, I hate to cut this short, but the Crows’ feather falls that there’s enemy movement around.” She pauses, mouth pulling into a grimace, before continuing, “Your… abilities, might be… useful.”

“Oh.” She’s asking for his help, isn’t she? Even the Corsairs who didn’t mind Guardians hadn’t asked him to. He… hasn’t done this before—Helped from afar, sure, but not in the thick of it.

She eyes him, with some mix of anxiousness and detesting having asked. “Well, I’m… happy to help.” He smiles, despite the nervous knot in his gut. “Just lead the way.”

He swears there’s a glint of familiarity in her eyes as he says it, and she relaxes some before clearing her throat. “Let’s get going, then.”

— — —

“Sooo… Don’t remember nothin’?” The shadowed figure asks from the thick branch it’s laying on, a deep and modulated voice carrying just loud enough to reach him.

He has to crane his neck to see the ominous red glow of what he assumes is its eyes. “Uhm… no. Didn’t think I was meant to.”

“Yer Ghost tell you nothing, either?” The figure adjusts some, legs now dangling. Seems he’s interesting enough for its full attention.

“Was he supposed to?”

“...Guess not.” It drops down, not a sound leaving them as they right themself, and their face comes into view. Grey metal plates and red dots for eyes greet him. ”Any idea who ya are? Where ya woke up?”

“Looked like…a cathedral, I think.” He takes a half-step back, savouring his personal space, “He must’ve been highly respected. Did you know him?” The apparently metal man—not that he hasn’t heard of Exos (because he has, if only some), but hearing of and seeing are two different things—eyes him for a moment.

“Not personally, but knew of ‘im. An’way, strict Vanguard policy n all, can’t tell ya much.” The exo turns on his heel and starts walking, waving a hand for him to follow.

“...Riight.” He peers around the trees and rocky terrain before deciding to go along with it. “Actually, what’s with that? A few people have told me that already.”

“S’posedly, knowing obscures judgment… or som’thin along those lines. Never bothered to listen ver’ much. Got better things to do than listen to some raving mad Warlock’s lecture.”

“And… I’m supposed to be a… a Hunter?”

“Look it to me. Cape, dirty look,”—Dirty? Now that’s rude—“Things like that. Got that stature, too, and the slouch.”

“Ah. You’re…”—Brutal—“forthcoming.”

“You asked. An’way, got a name for yerself yet? Like to keep track of who I meet.”

A name. His Ghost talked about those; he had seemed excited to pick them.

“...No, not yet.”

“Could give ya some suggestions, if ya like. Though, you’d prob’ly like to do that wit yer Ghost, rather than a stranger.”

“Yeah… he’s been nagging me about it. Seems important to him.”

“Might wanna get on wit it, then! Unhappy Ghost makes a’ unhappy Guardian, y’know. In the meantime, got a preference? Any topics in partic’ you like? Might wanna fly with ‘ose.”

He thinks for a moment, and the black feather on the Hunter’s hood catches his eye. “Well… What’s yours? Might give me some ideas,” he shrugs.

“Rancher!” The other Hunter announces, wholly confident.

“Rancher,” he deadpans back, deciding that whatever he picked would have to be better than that.

“Yuep.” He opts not to question how the Exo popped the P without lips. “M’ Ghost, Iridant, wouldn’t let me jus’ keep Hunter.”

“You were going to name yourself Hunter?”

“Well, it was before I knew ‘bout the Vanguard an’ their classes thing! Iri took ‘er sweet time telling me, an’ I knew I liked huntin’, so…”

The first statement gives him pause.

Are there… are there Guardians outside of the Vanguard? Well, are not all Ghosts with the Vanguard, at least?

“Huh.”

So it’s not just him, then. Maybe Rancher’s Ghost kept him away from the Vanguard for awhile for the same reason his Ghost does… Whatever that reason is, anyway.

As the pair come up on an uphill, littered with stone piles and boulders, Rancher kicks some gravel rocks aside. “Soo, heh, how long ‘ave you been up ‘n about?”

He eyes the patch of gravel for a moment, watching them resettle, “Not too long. Spent some months in the Dreaming City, but only been out here for a few weeks, I think.”

“Ahh, so yer a new Newlight, then! Yeah. Yeah! I imagine those Awoken’re a bit weird, ey?” A barking, modulated laugh brings his gaze back up, finding Rancher to be stood at the top of some larger boulder at the top of the hill now, “How’s that place, an’way? ‘aven’t had the chance to go quite yet.”

Weird was one way to put the Corsairs. So much disdain for Guardians, and yet they seemed fine with him—among other things. “Well, it’s… It’s pretty, when you aren’t under fire.” He could paint pictures of that sky, but… What were the pale things called? Scorn? “The uh… the ones with crossbows were trouble.”

Rancher laughs, again—now more entertained, rather than antagonistic, “Ooooh, big man too good for Taken? The ozone smell don’t bother you? Might jus’ be a’ Exo thing, that, but I ‘ear it makes some a bit nauseous.”

The memory of spinning around, mid combat, to be met with a Taken Knight towering over him moments before waking up—with a few Corsairs gathered around him—springs to the front of his mind. He opts to hum in agreement rather than debate it, climbing up on another slab across from the other Hunter.

The hill below drops-off into what looks to be a patched together base of sorts, old enough to have a dusting of moss and vines over it, but recently lived in and the vines cut back over computer panels and exits.

He catches Rancher stretching (though, he doubts Exos have any need to do so) out the corner of his eye as the other Hunter sighs, “Ahhh, ‘ere’s my stop.”

“Your… stop?” Despite the lived-in look to the base, he can’t see any proof of the occupants anywhere nearby. Or was Rancher here to reclaim it? He had heard Hunters were largely meant to be scouts. Supposedly.

“Yuep!” The Exo pops the end, again. “Got an op to run out ‘ere. That base down there? ‘posed to hold some pests, an’ I’m on exterminator duty!”

And there goes the scout theory. If he went to the Vanguard, would he be put on these missions, too?

“Ooh,” Rancher stops and turns back, “‘fore I go—Careful if you see a Hunter in red an—ahh, no, that’s… That’s not specific at all. Hm.”

He’s heard this warning before. No one ever tells him why, or what that Hunter did, just to stay far away. Every. Time. Other than the vague warnings, he’s not even sure what he’s looking out for.

And it doesn’t help that “red and black Hunter” is a good seventy percent of Hunters he’s seen.

“Why? What did they do?” He tries to put force into his voice, but Rancher skips over the question.

“Just- ah. Complicated. I’ll send yer Ghost a picture, heh?” Rancher’s Ghost—a foil-textured, pink colored, and green eyed… mini Servitor?—appeared with a series of trills. “You’ll want to avoid–” The Ghost projected an image, “–that one.”

He could barely study the figure before there was a blast followed by the sound of Pikes somewhere nearby, to which both Rancher and his Ghost snapped to attention, projection fading.

“Ah!” Rancher sounded excited as his Ghost dematerialized, “That’s my que! Pleasure t’ meet ya, blueberry, but I gotta run.”

“Wh- Blue–? Hold on, what does that—” but the other Hunter is already plowing through the woods on a still-materializing sparrow, giving him one last wave, “—mean…”

He sighs, but can’t help but stare, dumbfounded, after Rancher, yet—

One thing stuck in his mind; That single, holographic, orange eye.

The same one in his dreams.

What happened to his past life?