#after all of the crap he's been through
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msachillelaurosfunnels · 4 months ago
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OH MY DAYS PIERCE AND I LOOK SO CUTE AHSHBDISIWNWNJDJSJJNWJEJANKWIERJFBJQUH ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕💕❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️❣️💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💓💓💓💓💓💓💓💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💘💘💘💘💘💘💘💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💝💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟💟♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥
So a bit ago @msachillelaurosfunnels drew this post, per my request. I had the intention of making it a trade of sorts, and then forgot for months (oops.) So I drew what I imagine the logical second panel of her drawing would be (that is, he takes little notice of the watch and instead is horrified by the existence of the magic box known as Samsung phone as msachillelaurosfunnels stands by awkwardly waiting for him to be done.)
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retributory · 6 months ago
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i honestly kind of find it blatantly offensive that people act like it's weird for xie lian to be submissive because he's also a strong character, especially because this is often posited as if it's somehow more morally correct for him to be dominant. the fact that this is parroted so often on the other hellsites is mind-blowing to me because not only is it just homophobic nonsense, it's obvious that he's submissive BECAUSE he is strong.
let's put aside the fact that xie lian was raised in a religion and culture that strictly punishes sexual thought and action and that he barely even knows how to process his sexual feelings let alone act on them. have you ever stopped to think about the actual soul-crushing horror of being unable to die no matter what?? in the coffin by itself he was there for 100 years, staked in the chest, in complete silence and darkness, in stagnant, unmoving air. alone. he's so used to being starving, poisoned and in pain that he straight doesn't even notice it sometimes. he has been drowned, stabbed, set on fire, poisoned, trampled, suffocated - and he never ever puts aside time to process that or talk about it. he puts other before himself 100% of the time. he time and time again destroys himself willingly. he IS strong, because he HAS to be strong. he has never been allowed to be anything but strong.
so it is, i think, objectively a good thing that hua cheng makes him sit down and be selfish sometimes. i think it is good that hua cheng makes it so that xie lian doesn't HAVE to be the strong one all the time. i think it is good that when xie lian feels comfortable ignoring pain and hunger, hua cheng bosses him around, gets stern and mean, makes him eat, makes him wear something comfortable, makes him enjoy himself. hua cheng knows what xie lian wants - he also knows that xie lian struggles with wanting. domination is not something selfish and cruel, and it's absurd and homophobic to view it as such. he enjoys dominating xie lian, of course, but he also enjoys being able to fulfill the needs and wants of his wife, even when xie lian struggles to realize or articulate them. nevermind that xie lian's pov makes it clear that he delights when hua cheng is "wicked and tender" to him . . .
xie lian does not know how to be kind to himself. he spent 800 years calmly accepting whatever terrible thing would happen to him, spending most of it alone, shrugging off all misfortunes because otherwise it would be completely maddening to actually fully bear the weight of the suffering he goes through. why wouldn't it be comforting for him to let his husband that he loves more than anything else in the world take the reins for him . . . ? why wouldn't he like to be treated like something soft and precious to be tenderly taken care of instead of shouldering the weight of everything by himself all the time? xie lian is barely able to conceptualize the idea of intimate wanting at first because he has had it so hammered into his brain that wanting is something to be ignored and pushed down. he likes being dominated by hua cheng because hua cheng forces him to be selfish and indulge in pleasure that he is simply not able to allow himself to feel alone.
you have to ignore so much of the text to believe that it's out-of-character somehow for him to submit to hua cheng, and yet i see it all the time so SOMEHOW people are interpreting it this way. i fail to even begin to comprehend why this is so widespread. mind-boggling
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redeemed-wren · 6 months ago
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Finding out Andromache actually gets a happy ending is making me feel all kinds of emotions in this chili's tonight
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sieglinde-freud · 7 months ago
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asugis honestly such a cool character locked behind 1) the most horrible plot device in any game ive ever seen in my life and 2) looking too much like a guy from the last game and it SUCKS because he was basically already given a great character concept with all the saizo stuff but then intsys was like “wait but what if was also gaius?!” which killed the appeal for most people. which i get, but hes also just… like he has some similar speech patterns but they were both brought up so differently and in wildly different contexts its like… hes really… not gaius… the most hes got is like the sweets thing but even then they both go about the candy thing pretty differently so? its just the fucking hair. which, by the way, asugi doesn’t even look good with gaius orange. like omg… idk man i think asugis a really fun guy with good supports all around and it just sucks hes brought down by the worst gimmicks of all time
#freudian slips#ive been thinking about him a lot lately#i just really like him… hes my baby son…#i also think hes one of the few kids with a GOOD second parent support#like yes its generic but it does a lot for his characterization#and shows that hes not just some thief guy shrugging off the saizo name for fun and bc he doesnt gaf#but hes literally just. a boy. who loves his mom and is trying his best to figure himself out after all the crap his dad does#which btw i love saizo. thats my husband btw. not hating.#but it just makes sense asugi would want to shy away from all of that until he thinks hes ready to have that name again#ITS SO COOL its such a great concept but all i ever hear is ‘hes just gaius but bad’ THOSE R TWO DIFFERENT GUYS……#i know its hard to see that bc no one likes reading fates supports but. THEY ARE#ive seen people say shit like ‘asugi/caeldori support is literally exactly the same as gaius/cordelia’#and thats how i KNOW yall dont read bc its literally not 😭#the C support is a callback but the B-S is completely different#take it from someone whos read both chains five thousand times. or j go read it yourself#i assume asugi/rhajat and gaius/tharja is in the same boat but i dont remember those chains as well#ugh. anyways. been slowly going through fates second gen supports and finding a greater appreciation for them#i mean ive always LIKED them but i never went to deep on them. i dont like them as much as the awakening second gen obviously. look at me.#and i think the deeprealm thing means i probably never will bc i think a large amount of appeal that the awakening second gen has#is that they were all put in the SAME bad circumstance TOGETHER#unlike how the deeprealms for each kid are all separate#and yk. i can believe the second gen story a bit more 😭 but still i need to give the fates kids their flowers theyre all p cool so far#some of them i like more than others. like asugi. but im having fun with them
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brunchable · 3 months ago
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𝙄 𝘿𝙤𝙣'𝙩 𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙔𝙤𝙪 𝙇𝙞𝙠𝙚 𝙖 𝘽𝙚𝙨𝙩 𝙁𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙 [ 2 ]
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Pairings: Bucky Barnes x f!Reader Themes: Friends to Lovers. SMUT: Touch Hungry Bucky, Kiss Hungry Bucky, Bucky just not getting enough of you, fingering, cunnilingus, Oral [M&F], unprotected piv, creampie. Just PURE making love, no kinks. Summary: It's only been a few hours since you've become official and Bucky want to show you just how much you mean to him. A/N: 2 of 2. And I must say. . . JAYSUS. BON APETITIDDIES.
Part One
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You were stiff. You were sore. Your arm was asleep. And you felt fucking fantastic.
Maybe in the movies people woke up entwined in each other's arms after a night of spirited lovemaking, but for you, reality was much more awkward. Your head had somehow become wedged behind Bucky’s shoulder, and both his legs were about to slide off the couch altogether. You untangled yourself as best you could, looking down at him as you moved his limbs out of the way.
Bucky was sleeping peacefully, his dark lashes lying flat against the skin beneath his eyes. They fluttered slightly as you pulled free of him, and he stirred.
"Five more minutes," he mumbled, and turned over so he was facing the back of the couch, still caught in mid-slide towards the floor.
You tried not to laugh. God, he was adorable.
You sat up, arching your back to stretch out the sore muscles. Then your breath caught. What time was it? Holy hell, I’m going to be late.
You stood up quickly, and was seized by an ache between your legs so unfamiliar that you nearly sat back down again. Holy crap. It had been way too long. You almost felt like a virgin again. You rose again shakily, noticing that your whole groin felt sore, and so did your hips—probably from throwing your legs up around his waist. God, what a wanton hussy you were, you thought happily.
You went quietly towards the bathroom, checking the clock on the stove as you walked by. It was nearly eight-thirty. Crap. You were supposed to be at work by nine, or nine-thirty at the latest. you'd  have to make the shower a quick one.
You stood under the hot water, letting it pour over your sore muscles. You washed out your hair, lathered up your body and massaged your sore hips as random images from last night invaded your thoughts. Even now you weren't entirely convinced it hadn't all been a dream. Has it really happened? The soreness was real enough. And so were the images flashing through your mind.
Bucky’s body on yours, looming over you, holding your wrists, kissing you with abandon. Taking each breast in his mouth, teasing you with his fingers. Sliding into you, tilting your back and thrusting deeper, faster, harder.
Suddenly a blurry figure appeared on the other side of the glass door. The door slid open and he stood there, looking disheveled from sleep but adorably sexy. And naked, too.
"Hi," he said, a seductive smile curving his lips. His eyes traveled down your naked body, pausing at your breasts and then sliding down to the between your legs where rivulets of water coursed and ran together.
You flushed at the frank inspection but willed yourself not to try to hide from him. You shifted your weight, jutting your hip out provocatively and smiled.
His eyes returned to yours, desire glinting in them. "May I join you?"
You pushed the door back and invited him in. Bucky stepped in and crowded you, not unpleasantly, until your back was up against the tiles. He braced his hands on the wall behind you, and let the water flow over him as he leaned down and kissed you.
You opened to him and kissed him back, winding your hands around his waist and sliding them down his ass, squeezing appreciatively. He smiled into the kiss, enjoying your wandering hands, then pushed forward so your bodies were pressed together, the water slick and warm between you.
"So," he murmured in your ear, his voice barely a whisper above the sound of the water. "So much for that idea."
"What idea was that?" you whispered back, kissing his ear.
"The idea that we could ever be just friends," he said, catching your jaw with his lips as you turned your head. He covered your neck with slow, lingering kisses, trailing his mouth down your and cupping your breast with his hand.
"Oh, I don't know, I think it's a great idea so far," you said coquettishly. "Besides," you joked. "I do this with all my male friends."
He mocked a scowl at you, and gave you  that smile that had always melted you. "Well, that's going to have to stop. You're mine now."
He kissed you slowly, his tongue tangling with yours as he teased and tasted, enjoying your mouth.
You kissed him back, licking and tasting and enjoying him until you felt rather than heard a hum of desire, of pure carnal lust, vibrating through him. He was growing hard against your belly, his cock pressing against you urgently.
He lowered his head further and took your  nipple into his mouth, licking the soft nub until it grew hard beneath his tongue. Pleasure shot through you, and he turned to lavish the same attention on your other breast. You writhed against the cold tiles at your back, arching into him and sinking your fingers into his hair to hold him to you. He smiled as you moaned with pleasure, and laughed softly when he took your nipple between his teeth and made you suck in a sharp breath.
His cock was as hard as it had been a few hours ago, and it surged in your hand as he took your breasts. You gathered some suds into your palm and grasped him again, feeling the iron-hardness of him beneath the silky skin. You began to stroke, gliding fast and smooth, and he groaned from the pleasure of it, collapsing against you and kissing you between his soft, low sounds of pleasure and need.
You kept stroking and teasing, gliding over him in a steady rhythm, and felt yourself growing warm and slick at how hard he was beneath your fingers. You loved that you were doing that to him, making him want you so much. He groaned, his breath jagged and shallow. He tried to kiss you through his mounting pleasure but he had to break off to breathe, to lose himself in the sensation.
"God, baby," he groaned, squeezing his eyes shut. "So good."
You tried not to focus on him calling you baby, knowing it was only his arousal talking. You focused instead on the intense pleasure that was making him say it. You continued stroking him, changing your hand position so that you pulled up with each stroke, teasingly pulling his skin up over the head each time and sinking down to the base, pleasuring every inch of him. Your other hand cupped his balls and caressed him, gently rolling him around in your fingers as he tensed and surged and seemed to fight against you, against the unbearable pleasure you were causing him.
After a few torturous moments he stopped your hand, his breathing so fast and ragged that he could hardly speak. 
“You—don't want—this to end too soon, do you?” he warned, kissing you in between breaths. “Because, my God, you could make me come in seconds if you wanted to.”
“That might be fun,” you said, kissing the edges of his mouth, licking at his lips and his tongue when he opened his mouth to you again.
“For me, yes,” he breathed, breaking away from you. “But I'm not nearly finished with you yet.”
He slipped his hand into your hair and held your head, kissing you with such raw passion, such naked need that you felt a surge of warmth flood between your legs in spite of the cooling effects of the water. He had wrung a soul-shattering orgasm out of you just a few hours ago and yet here you were again, eager for him again. Wanton hussy indeed.
"Do you remember that night, two years ago?" he asked, his voice low and deep. "At the party, when I played that song on the guitar for you, and you asked whether it hurt my fingers to play the steel strings?"
He was watching his own fingers trail over your breasts, over your tightened nipple, down past your navel, as the water trickled over you both.
"Mmm hmmm," you murmured, your eyes closed, lost in the sensation of the water coursing down your body and his hand moving over you.
“And you touched my fingertips…”
Of course you remembered; you'd run your  fingers over the roughened pads of his fingertips, and had watched in delight as he'd twitched a little, and then trembled, just a little, at your touch. You'd kept your touch feather-light and soft, drifting over his fingertips and down his fingers a little, feeling the shiver of heightened awareness in your  own hands.
Maybe you'd been a little too suggestive, a little too lingering, whispering-touching those parts of him that were supposedly hardened against such sensations—but you'd been unable to stop yourself. His hands had been warm and strong and eminently male, and when he'd stiffened and held his breath, as if willing himself not to react to your seductive touch, you'd felt that shiver of awareness deepen into an intense desire.
Such a seemingly innocent touch, just a friend examining the time-worn calluses of a guitar player's fingertips. . .and yet in that moment, even amongst their friends, even with the music playing loud and the laughter soaring above it, you'd felt like it had been just the two of you in that room, touching each other intentionally for the very first time, your hand tentatively reaching out for his, and his reaching to meet your half way.
“You drove me wild.” he said, leaning to kiss your neck. “I got so hard, I was afraid to move. And after that, I kept thinking of all the things I wanted to do to you with these fingers.” He slipped his hand between your  legs and caressed your folds, parting them gently and sliding inside you. “Like this, for instance.”
You moaned and leaned your head against his shoulder, letting him touch you wherever he wanted. His fingers explored you, caressed you, possessed you, expertly as though they, too, knew you were his.
“I just had to touch you,” you breathed against him. “And believe me, this is what I was thinking about too.”
“You stopped me last night,” he murmured, dragging his mouth along your neck. “I wanted to feel you come for me. To finish what you started that night.”
You groaned at the sound of his voice, so low and sexual, so heated with his own desire.
“Let me feel you come for me, baby,” he whispered into your ear, licking your  earlobe. “Please.”
He gripped your hip and lifted you up against the wall slightly, positioning you so he could slide his fingers deep inside you. He held you firmly around the waist, bracing you against the wall, and thrust into you gently, with first one finger, then two, sliding deeper and deeper each time, stretching you, mimicking the size and power of his cock. His thumb played over your clit, sending shocks of pleasure through you as he pressed his forehead to yours and gazed down into your  eyes. You gasped and cried out from the overwhelming pleasure of it even as you squirmed beneath his fingers and ached for more.
He braced you against his thigh and pressed against you while his arm steadied you from behind, holding you completely in his grasp. Bucky had such a way of holding you, letting you know that you were going nowhere, making sure you had no desire to be anywhere but in his arms. You felt safe, and secure, and above all, worshiped.
Bucky bent down and kissed you, sliding his fingers into your with a wild, sensuous rhythm that matched the increasing speed of his thumb as it stroked and rubbed and swirled around your aching clit. His hand was so strong, his fingers curving inside you to caress you, to find that super-sensitive inner spot even as he plunged and drove and took. With his thumb circling your clit in a relentless rhythm and his fingers deep inside you, stretching you, claiming you, you felt completely owned by him, by the hand that possessed every inch of you.
His tongue slipped into your mouth, matching the rhythm of his fingers, swirling, tasting, mutely revealing that he had had another  fantasy, too. The thought of his mouth on you, his tongue tasting you, torturing you, swirling over your clit as you writhed beneath it made you go weak in the knees.
Bucky broke away from the kiss and began trailing kisses down your neck, your breasts, lowering himself to his knees in front of you  while bracing your hips against the tiles with his strong hands.
"Did I mention what it did to me the first time your tongue touched mine?" he whispered devilishly.
He looked up at you so intently, his beautiful blue eyes blazing as the water streamed over his shoulder and down the contours of his chest. You gazed down at him, and for the second time this morning questioned whether  all this could actually be happening. This gorgeous, virile man gripping you, kneeling before you, gazing at you like you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. It couldn't be real, could it?
Then he lowered his lips to your and you knew it was.
Sensation tore through your touch, so delicately gentle at first, and you arched against the wall with a startled cry. You reached down and gripped his shoulder, steadying yourself on one foot as he brought you to your leg up slowly, gently and eased it over his shoulder. The sight of it alone nearly made you come. He moved so languidly, so sensuously, positioning you better so he could enjoy your all the more.
He closed his mouth over your clit and kissed it luxuriously, his lips moving as though he were kissing your mouth. His tongue swirled over you in large, sensuous circles and he groaned against you, tightening his grip on your hip as you moaned against the sudden overwhelming pleasure of it. The tip of his tongue darted out to flick against your  rapidly as he looked up at you again, watching your pleasure, his eyes smiling at you as if he knew precisely how good he was making you feel. Then he fell on you again, his tongue roaming over you, tasting you, luxuriating in your folds and dipping to lap at your entrance.
“Oh my, g-god. Bucky—”
You bucked against him and cried out as his tongue slipped into your and pulsed there, gently, savouring you. Your hand sank into his wet hair and as you gripped his head, you were rewarded with a muted chuckle and a more intense forward surge of his tongue inside you. He liked the moans he wrought from you. He liked being able to make your  cry out and seize him, your head thrown back in agonizing pleasure.
And fuck did you like it, too.
"Oh God," you breathed, your heart thundering in your chest. "My God, that feels so good..."
He withdrew from your and slid his tongue up to torture your aching clit, and just when you began to miss the feel of him inside your he gently pushed his fingers into your again and began to thrust.
Pleasure soared through you and you cried out even louder, and the leg draped over his shoulder began to tremble. His tongue circled your clit again, deliciously slowly, as his fingers slid into you over and over again, a sensual, primitive rhythm that made you  want to grind your hips against the pleasure.
“I'm coming,” you whispered urgently. “You're going to make me come…”
His fingers thrust deeper and faster and he began to lick you so quickly, with such a throaty groan of pleasure that you felt your  orgasm rise, terrifyingly fast and sharp, making you cry out in increasing, panting breaths until you shattered, coming violently around his fingers and that sensuous, irresistible tongue. You shuddered with an aching cry and trembled from the spasms he sent rippling through you. Your body curled forward as you gripped him tighter, your  fingers pulling on his hair from the pressure.
He removed your leg from his shoulder gently as you continued to shudder, feeling aftershocks of pleasure shiver through you. He got to his feet and helped you stand, pressing himself against your  and nuzzling your neck.
“Holy shit,” you whispered, your voice shaking. your  whole body shaking. “That was incredible.”
“That...was just the prelude,” he whispered, kissing you. “I haven't even started pleasuring you yet.”
God, he was going to kill you. Death by orgasm, you thought happily. What a way to go.
He leaned to turn off the water, but he stilled his hand. He looked back at you with a questioning expression, and then understood. You pulled him back towards yourself and he went willingly, stepping back under the stream of water, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming greedily over your  body.
You weren't done with him. He had made you feel like a goddess, worshiped, cherished, adored.
You broke off the kiss and began trailing your  lips down his neck, his collarbone and chest, enjoying the warmth of the water trickling past your mouth. His chest muscles tensed as you kissed them, and as you moved your  lips slowly down his abdomen you felt his whole body go rigid with anticipation. You sank to your knees in the tub and brushed kisses along his navel, his hip bones, and he put his hands on your shoulders to steady himself. Water coursed over both of you, and you delighted in it, closing your eyes against the spray.
“Baby,” Bucky said softly, barely audible above the water.
You opened your eyes and looked up at him. He was about to say something but you smiled and glanced away, focusing instead on the head of his cock, hard and urgent in front of you. He was thick and beautiful, and still as hard, maybe even harder, than he had been when you'd teased him with your  hands.
“I want to taste you,” you said playfully. “All of you.”
You leaned forward and gently licked the swollen tip of his cock. He inhaled sharply, his whole body tensing, and you smiled up at him, letting him know this was for your  pleasure as much as for his. You swirl your  tongue around the head, taking it into your  mouth and suckling gently, teasing it. The skin was soft and smooth, stretched deliciously tight from the hardness of his erection.
You let your tongue play over it, dipping into the opening, making him moan. You drifted your tongue along the ridge, and down to the sensitive skin just beneath the head, licking and tasting, nipping and kissing.
You looked up at him, and his dark eyes were wild with desire. You smiled, and ran your  tongue up and down the length of him, ending at the head and flicking at it delicately, teasingly. He moaned softly, his breathing starting to grow rapid. You rose up slightly to take the whole length of him into your mouth and sucked him, long and hard.
He let out a gasp and braced himself against the wall with one hand, his other  hand gripping your  shoulder.
“Oh fuck—Baby...”
You slid your mouth over his shaft, deeper, deeper, and slid back up the length of him. Your hands came around and gripped his ass, pulling him towards you. He staggered forward slightly as you took him into your  mouth again, luxuriously taking in his entire length, sucking, licking, tasting as you went. The sensation of him in your mouth was almost as overwhelming as his first entrance into your body had been, so unfamiliar but so right at the same time.
You caressed his balls with one hand as you played your tongue over his cock. He groaned, his breathing jagged now, his cock harder than ever. His hand moved from your  shoulder to sink into your wet hair, and he gripped your head with barely restrained urgency. Gently he guided your head closer to him as you sucked. You lowered yourself onto him and slowly sucked your way back up, your mouth gripping him, your cheeks hollowing, as your tongue slid over him with each pass.
His hips began to move as he started to match your rhythm, thrusting into you, meeting your mouth. Bucky gripped your head more firmly and held your head still, driving into you gently.
You let your hand fall and you sat back on your haunches, enjoying the feeling of him sliding in and out of your mouth, controlling his own pleasure, taking what he wanted, and what you were so willing to give. Yet you could tell he was holding back, wanting to thrust harder and faster but restraining himself and settling for a smoother, slower pace.
For you. Bucky was holding back for your sake. This passionate, soulful, virile man was holding back his own pleasure because he wanted to be gentle with you.
The very thought of it excited you, and you increased your own rhythm, encouraging him, moaning with pleasure as he drove into you. You sucked harder, faster, turning your  gaze up to him with an urgent plea in your  eyes. Faster. Deeper. Now, my love.
And he understood.
Bucky groaned, and stepped forward. His hand clenched in your hair and he began to move, faster and harder, plunging deeper, holding your head as he thrust into your  mouth with urgent, rhythmic strokes. He slid in and out of your mouth as if through warm honey, and you felt and heard his pleasure mounting with every ratcheted breath and every desperate moan that escaped his lips.
His eyes watched your with rapt adoration and abject lust, and you could tell that the sight of your taking him fully into your mouth, of your sucking him with pure, greedy abandon and complete acceptance, was pushing him closer to the edge as much as the intense pleasure of your tongue on his cock was. Or more.
He tensed as his rhythm grew faster, his breathing harder, until you felt him tighten and strain so much that you felt certain he was going to spill himself into your mouth. But at the last moment he cried out and pulled back, his cock slipping out of your  mouth quickly. He stood still, breathless, his eyes closed as if willing his orgasm to retreat. Water sliced down his neck and chest, and finally he let out a slow, jagged moan of a breath and opened his eyes. He looked down at you wildly, and reached for you,helping you to your feet.
“Jesus,” he said breathlessly, staring at you as he tried to catch his breath. “I can't...I can't believe how goddamn good that felt. You brought me so close, so fast, I almost couldn't stop it.”
“Why did you?” you asked, running your  finger along his jaw. “I wanted to feel you come for me.”
He groaned against you, his hands roaming over your  body. “I told you, I'm not nearly done with you yet.”
He kissed you hungrily, his cock surging against your violently as your bodies met. you could feel him moving against you, his cock rubbing against you,and you knew how badly he wanted to be inside you again.
As badly as you wanted him inside you again.
He stepped back, his breath still ragged, and pressed his forehead to yours as he closed his eyes and tried to breathe.
“You're not done yet, huh?” you teased gently, letting your fingers sink into his wet hair as you kissed his neck.
“Not nearly.”
“But I have to go to work. Maybe if I'm lucky you'll be here when I get home?”
“I'm not going anywhere.”
He reached to turn off the water and stepped out of the shower, turning to help your step over the wall of the tub. You threw your robe on and cinched the belt as he dried off and wrapped the towel around his waist. You caught him grinning at you, and it was so clear what he was thinking that it made your  laugh.
“What?” you demanded, squeezing the excess water out of your hair with a hand towel. “What are you smiling at?”
Bucky wetted his lips with his tongue, “Fuck it. You're just going to have to be late for work. Come here…”
“Hey!” your eyes widened playfully, jumping away from him. “Are you trying to kill me? Stop!”
Bucky untied your robe and you yelped, trying to slap his hands away. He just kept advancing on you, grinning devilishly. You turned and scampered away from him with a squeal of delight.
He followed behind, still grasping for the robe. You shrieked and laughed and ran towards the bedroom, and he followed, catching up to you and pushing you onto the bed with a resounding crack of the bed frame.
You laughed as he tumbled on top of you, but he silenced you with his mouth, kissing you hungrily as he impatiently pushed your robe aside. His breath was ragged as he nudged your legs apart with his knee, his need too great for the slow, sensual lovemaking of last night. He held his cock against your entrance and smoothly thrusts into you and moaned against your mouth, and you wrapped your legs around him to draw him deeper.
He plunged into you, covering your body and your mouth with the same hungry possession. You were still so warm and wet, so exquisitely ready for him that he filled you easily, driving you relentlessly as he tasted your tongue, your lips, your neck, and groaned from the pleasure your body was giving him.
You tensed around him and he moaned breathlessly, a throaty, male sound of pure ecstasy. He pounded into you, falling into a steady rhythm born of raw, primitive need. Your body tightened around him with every thrust, and waves of pleasure rippled through you, building in intensity up to an almost unbearable pressure, a delicious heat that made you moan into his mouth as he kissed you.
He rose up, his arms braced beside you, to look down as he stroked and withdrew and breathed out his pleasure while his eyes glowed pure heat. He grabbed your rear, tilting one hip up towards him, entering you  on such an angle that a new kaleidoscope of pleasure bloomed throughout you. He gripped you possessively, driving you deeper and faster and harder. His eyes burned, glowing like obsidian, hot and wild and almost frenzied with desire.
“Baby,” he groaned, his eyes pinning you, claiming you, as though he were branding you with your heat.
You're mine...
You're mine...
Your first time together had only been hours ago, but it was as if you had been lovers for years...every fluid flexing of his hips against you hit just the right spot, every deep, powerful thrust of his cock stretched your pussy with a familiar, almost expected surge of pleasure.
“Yes—oh god yes, Bucky—fuck me,” you breathed.
Two simple words and suddenly he was on the edge...buried so deep inside you, thrusting, plunging, your breasts pressed against his chest, the pleasure roaring through his body.
Suddenly he wanted to take you, hard. He wanted to fuck you with abandon, the eyes-closed, head-back, moaning-out-loud kind of sexual abandon that he had so rarely experienced in his life, but which was crashing through his body and mind right now.
He wanted this woman...he wanted to own you, to take you, to claim your body as his....he wanted to fuck you until he'd emptied his balls into you, feeling your pussy clenching and spasming in orgasm around his cock as he came, as you came, as you came together.
He withdrew from you quickly, barely able to catch his breath, and, as if you could read his thoughts, you turned onto your stomach just as his trembling hands guided your hips over. Your hair spilled over your bare back and your ass curved out so seductively it was all he could do not to cum right there, all over your smooth skin. But his cock knew what it wanted, and he pulled you forward to slide into the heaven of your pussy, so wet and tight and swollen for him.
He cried out when he took your again, his cock parting your folds and filling you so completely. The feel of him stretching you, the crest of his head pressing against your  from this new angle...you felt a tremor of pleasure ripple through you and knew you were close, as close as he was. When he leaned over you and began to kiss your  shoulders you shuddered, and when he began to thrust you buried your face in the pillow and moaned.
Your moans of pleasure filled the room and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to last, begging his aching cock not to explode just yet. . .this pace, these quick short strokes as his hips slapped against your ass, your body moving with his every thrust. . .It was almost too much to bear. Bucky buried his faced in your sweet-smelling hair and let his cock plunge as it would, faster and faster, making him shake, making him breathless, making him feel like nothing but a desperate cock as he fucked you.
And fucked you. And fucked you, as you had begged him to...
You could only whimper now, lost to the pleasure of his man taking you like this, fucking you so wildly, almost savagely. The pleasure he was taking from your body, his moans and groans and the growls of pleasure you could feel against your back and in the warm breath at your ear. . . it was pure, primal lust.
You felt worshiped beneath him, as if every thrust of his hungry cock was a tribute to you, every growl and sharp breath an oath. He was fucking you, mindlessly, and yet every part of him was attuned to you, touching you, adoring you.
As his pace grew even faster, his thrusts shallower, you could sense he was about to come, and you felt your muscles tighten around him to heighten his pleasure and hers. His thrusts were so powerful that you felt the orgasm rising in you and you closed your eyes, lifting your head back so he could slide his hand into your hair, gently holding your neck and kissing your jaw with breathy, open-mouthed kisses.
“Oh, God Bucky...I'm coming,” you moaned. “I'm coming.”
“Yes...cum for me baby....cum on my cock.”
“Cum with me....please....I want you to cum inside me, please....please....”
And he could withstand it no more.
Pleasure detonated through him as his orgasm spasmed throughout his body, wracking him with wave after wave of euphoric release. He cried out your name as he thrust and bucked against your flesh, driving his cock deeper and deeper as he came and came and came. It felt like he would never stop cumming, and when he felt your orgasm tear through your pussy and clench his cock in waves, he thought he might black out from the sheer ecstasy of it.
You slammed back against him as the first spurts of cum began to fill you, and felt your  ravaged pussy begin to spasm again and again, milking his cock, pulling his cum deeper into you, flooding you with ripples of pleasure. You moaned and writhed, riding the crest of one orgasm only to feel a second one begin to climb and then crash over you. Breathless, almost sobbing from the pleasure, you let him hold you as he continued to pound into you, draining his balls into you at his will, lost in the utter bliss of a man taking a woman in the most primal way.
When he could bear it no longer, when his exquisitely sensitive cock throbbed within you and the pleasure bordered on pain, he stilled, finally, and shuddered. Sharp spasms of pleasure shot through him as his cock surged one last time within you, his aching balls emptying every last ounce of come. Bucky was almost lightheaded, his chest heaving, sweat glazing his skin as he withdrew his hand from your hair and ran it down the center of your back, needing to touch you, needing to feel your heated skin. You were breathless too, your back moving beneath his hand as you lay your head down and tried to catch your breath.
You felt him withdraw from you, and your  pussy rebelled, clenching to keep him there, as if pleading with him not to go. Bucky groaned softly against your ear as he pulled out and fell on the bed beside you, his arms surrounding you and pulling your back against him. You fit perfectly together, and every muscle in your body relaxed as you snuggled into him and breathed out a contented sigh. You felt his lips on the shell of your ear, kissing softly, felt his slowing breath against your skin as his soft sounds of contentment and pleasure hummed in his throat.
This is heaven, you thought. Pure heaven. your pussy twitched and tingled as you felt his warm come beginning to slip down your  inner thighs. His strong arms surrounded you, his soft lips murmured and whispered and kissed, his spent cock nestled against the curve of your ass.
“There was something I wanted to tell you, remember?” he murmurs, his words brushing warmly against your skin as he kisses a path down to your shoulder. “Last night… something I wanted to say to you. Something I wanted you to know.”
You shift slightly, turning to look at him, your heart pounding as you search his eyes, barely able to breathe. 
“Tell me,” you whisper, your voice almost a plea.
His gaze softens, an unmistakable warmth filling his expression as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your cheek. 
“I love you.”
The words settle between you, simple but perfect, like they were always meant to be there. Your heart feels like it’s soaring, every nerve in your body alive with the thrill of it, of finally hearing what you’d been aching to hear.
You break into a smile, biting your lip, feeling giddy and light, and without a second thought, you lean forward, kissing him softly, your hand finding his as you whisper back, “I love you too.”
And as he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you with a tenderness that feels like home, you realize that, for the first time, everything feels right.
tags: @cereal6666 @thatesqcrush @cl7ire @bighappypiels @mostlymarvelgirl
@winchestert101 @winterslove1917 @hzdhrtss @mcira @elvenrin
@xunquish-blog @meetmeattheapt
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onehundredelevven · 1 month ago
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Toji w/ preggy wife + out-of-this-world cravings
Toji stared at the counter. The ingredients you demanded sat before him like a challenge issued by the gods: instant ramen, whipped cream, peanut butter, and pickles. A lineup so vile it could send even the most daring chef into an existential crisis.
"Are you serious about this, or am I just getting pranked?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
You sat on the couch, legs crossed, a pillow pressed against your baby bump as you gave him the most innocent look in return. "Dead serious."
"You want ramen topped with this… stuff? And you're gonna eat it."
"Yup."
Toji groaned, running a hand through his dark hair. Of course, you had to pick this moment in your pregnancy to throw curveballs at him. The man was many things—an ex-hitman, a gambler, a loving yet blunt husband—but a gourmet chef? Not so much.
Still, he got to work. He boiled water, ripped open the ramen packet, and eyed the whipped cream like it might explode if he got too close. The sound of the kettle whistling filled the silence, but your voice broke through soon after.
“Don’t forget to add peanut butter! Like a lottt.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered, spooning a glob of it into the pot and stirring like his life depended on it. The smell was… not great. Toji’s nose wrinkled in pure, unfiltered disgust. “You sure this ain’t gonna poison the kid?”
“It’s what the kid wants, Toji. I’m just the messenger,” you quipped.
When it was finally done—complete with pickles carefully arranged on top—Toji approached you with the steaming bowl in hand. He hesitated, watching your excited expression as you reached for it.
“I can’t believe you’re actually gonna eat this. You’re insane,” he muttered, plopping down beside you on the couch.
“Hey, you married me,” you shot back, grabbing the bowl and digging in with absolutely no hesitation.
Toji watched, equal parts fascinated and horrified, as you slurped up the ramen, the whipped cream melting into the broth in a way that should’ve been illegal. He leaned back, arms crossed, still trying to wrap his head around the scene.
“This is actually amazing,” you said between bites, offering him the spoon. “Wanna try?”
He recoiled immediately, glaring at you like you’d suggested he jump off a cliff. “Not in a million years, woman.”
“Oh, come on. You can’t knock it ‘til you try it!”
“Yeah, well, I’ll take your word for it.”
Despite his grumbling, he stayed by your side, handing you napkins, fetching water when you needed it, and even cleaning up after you finished. Disgusted or not, there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d let you handle it yourself.
Later that night, as you snuggled into him in bed, you mumbled, “Thanks for putting up with me. And the weird cravings.”
Toji pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his hand resting protectively on your belly. “Tch. Don’t mention it. Just don’t ask me to eat that crap.”
But even as he complained, you knew he’d do it all over again if it made you and the baby happy.
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raeathnos · 11 months ago
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#yall im having a wild time lately#Saturday was really good- grandma is doing better so I ended up going to the beach for the day after all#had a really good day; I saw a bald eagle and dolphins + found a huge whelk and the bay sunset was beautiful#had the ride home from hell tho#took twice as long to get back because road work + detours + google maps fuckery while trying to find a gas station#we also almost hit a deer and like I live in PA who hasn’t almost hit a deer#but I have never been so close#he leaped out in front of us on the highway and froze#my husband was driving and omg reaction time#he slammed the brakes and I was like there’s no way#either we’re hitting the deer or the car behind us is hitting us or both#we stopped just a couple feet away from it#luckiest deer alive- he snapped out of it and looked at my husband then looked at me and then ran off#shoutout to the car behind us too- they swerved and did not hit us#but yeah he was a big buck and def would have not only totaled my car but gone through the windshield on the passenger side where I was#we got very lucky and so did he#but now I’m sick and I feel like crap#which perfect timing because we have a huge visit tomorrow and the stockroom is a mess#i was dying today cause I gotta lift all the furniture and shit#I literally came home and passed out for five hours and I still feel like I could just go right back to sleep#also I had a video interview last week and they said they wanted to bring me in for an in person interview#and like it’s at a really good company and it pays well and has good benefits#but now I havent heard back#so like watch me get ghosted again 🙃#I emailed them today so hopefully I hear back but I’m not holding my breath#I need everything to not be so much for a bit#Saturday was good but now things are crazy again
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cherrygirlfriend · 10 days ago
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⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ pilates princess
pairing: sunshine!reader x bf!rafe synopsis: rafe catches reader working out tags / warnings: fluff, smut (no actual sex but graphic descriptions of fantasies) wc: 900 a/n; this is for the pilates princesses (also originally this fic wasn't in the sunshineverse but it is now... mwahahahaha) originally posted 10/12/2024
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rafe was knocking on your door impatiently, wanting to see you more than anything after the day he had, finding out that the development he had been busting his ass for for months had been delayed, but you weren't answering the door or even his texts telling you to open the door; that didn't stop him, the man knowing where your parents kept the spare key, getting it out of a pot of asterias, opening the door. you'd told him he could only use it 'only in case of emergencies', but to him, this constituted as an emergency.
rafe didn't bother to put the key back as he walked further into the house, hearing the noise of the television coming from your living room. he made his way to the living room, his eyes widening slightly when he saw exactly what had you so busy.
you were splayed on the floor, a pink workout mat underneath you, watching some workout video on your tv while your headphones were on, wearing a pair of pink fitness shorts that made your ass look so good he was almost drooling, along with a white sports bra, turned away from him, one of your hands splayed on the ground while the other one was bent on your head, one of your knees on the mat while your other was reaching up.
"jesus christ." he mumbled as he stared at you, the curve of your ass in those pink shorts causing his dick to stir in his shorts.
only a few seconds later, you moved to sit down on the mat, only to be startled by your boyfriend shamelessly ogling you, letting out a small gasp as you basically fell on your ass on the mat, your eyes widening.
you took off your headphones, throwing them onto the couch behind you, and even though your face was already warm and flushed, it seemed to get worse when you noticed him staring at you. "rafe!" you exclaimed as you stood up, his eyes now locked onto your hardened nipples under the sports bra, your tits almost pressed together, a sheen of sweat running down your cleavage.
"jesus fucking christ." he said, licking his lips slightly as you took your pink zip-up jacket and put it on, yet the way it clung to your body and the small sliver of your sports bra did almost nothing to hide how delicious you looked. "no, no, baby, don't stop on my accord." rafe grinned, his hands on your waist, aware that he was sporting a pretty obvious hard-on as he pulled you closer.
"i don't want you to see me all gross and sweaty." you pouted, and the way you sucked your lip in made nothing to calm down the obvious tent in his shorts.
"you look so fucking sexy right now." he said, pulling you closer to him, and you could feel his hard-on press against your abdomen, the blonde letting out a small groan from only that contact. "literally, i've never... jesus."
"i'm not sexy right now." you roll your eyes, pushing away a stray hair that had stuck to your cheek, trying to look down in embarrassment.
"you're kidding, right?" rafe snorted, his hand going lower and lower, almost going to the curve to your ass. "i think you can feel how sexy you look, huh?" he took hold of your chin with his fingers, and lifted it up, making you look up at him. "if you didn't want to wait longer, do you know the things i'd do to you?"
"w-what?" you asked in a way that was almost a whisper, biting your lower lip as you looked at him through your lashes.
"fuck, i'd just rip that cute little set off and take you right here on the couch. i'd make you ride me, give you a workout that's much better than this crap you're doing, your tits bouncing in my face, my hands gripping those pretty thighs... shit, i might cum just thinking about it."
you softly smacked him in the chest, feeling a warmth in your abdomen only he managed to cause, sure that you'd never blushed so hard in your life. "raafee..."
he brings your face up to his, bringing your lips to his as he bent down slightly, the kiss much more heated than any other kiss that you'd shared, his hand now on the curve of your ass, squeezing it in a way that made you gasp against his lips, his other hand now in your hair.
after a moment, you pulled away breathlessly, his erection had somehow gotten even worse than before, your lips swollen and a doe-eyed look in your eyes. "we should... uh, we should stop, since, you know..."
"yeah, i know baby." he rolled his eyes exasperatedly, before chuckling softly. "god, i'm not gonna forget this little outfit in a while. lemme take a pic of it?"
"noo, i look gross!"
"don't talk about my girl like that." he tsked, taking hold of your jaw. "come on, i need something to get myself off to later."
"alright, fine." you scoffed and rolled your eyes, before letting out a small chuckle as you started unzipping your jacket.
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sleepymarimo · 6 months ago
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toji x reader // sfw!
𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 doesn’t remember the last time he was gifted something.
“you got me what?” he asks again, kicking his sandals off at your front door for what seems like the millionth time.
you rise from your couch, the wood creaking slightly as you do so. “just some stuff for you to keep here so you stop using mine,” you reply, the shrug of your shoulders indicating how little of a deal it is.
in the kitchen, you rinse out the glass you’d been using. toji’s footsteps are barely audible over the sound of running water.
“there’s a few pairs of sweats in the hall closet,” you tell him, setting the glass down to dry. “and some other stuff in the bathroom. shampoo, body wash, toothbrush…”
the assassin lets out a small huff, crossing his arms as he leans against the doorway. “you tellin’ me i reek or something?” he accuses, more so to brush off the odd feeling building in his gut.
“maybe.” comes your playful quip, your head tilting as you rest your weight on the counter and look at him. “but seriously, you just come around so often,”- his nose wrinkles at that, as he knows he crashes here much more than he should- “that i figured i’d just get you your own things. it’s not like it cost me an arm and a leg.”
with a yawn you stroll toward your room, lightly poking his chest as you pass him. “plus, you use up all of my stuff, dummy.”
he grunts, his eyes following you until you’re out of sight. “i don’t need fancy clothes or any of that crap,” he murmurs to himself, taking a few steps toward the hall closet.
his large hands wrap around the handles, sliding the doors open until he sees a pile of clothes resting on one of the shelves. three black tees stacked atop three pairs of sweats, some boxers and socks in a little box, all for him.
he picks up a shirt without hesitation, the fabric smooth against his calloused fingers. his brows furrow in concentration, maybe unease. this is for him, it’s his, and maybe that’s why this shirt is the softest one he’s ever felt.
with a gruff exhale, he snatches a pair of sweats and a clean pair of boxers, his steps unhurried as he heads for the bathroom.
the fan hums above him as the lock clicks into place, his eyes immediately darting to the shelves to see the new toiletries. his stuff.
inside the shower, toji’s shoulders sag.
it’s as if the water is washing away his defenses, the rugged, nonchalant exterior he wears now melting away in the comfort of your shower.
toji pops open one of the new shampoo bottles, taking in the scent and pouring it onto his palm. he wonders if this smell reminds you of him, if you put some thought into each item.
while he rubs it into his hair, he thinks about if he should pay you back. it’s not like he asked you to get him all this stuff, but still.
even when you’d first started letting him crash on your couch, you hadn’t demanded much in return.
“just don’t make a big mess and be decent, alright?” he remembers you saying.
and he was just fine with that. free room and board just for something so simple? he’d be a moron to decline.
it was only after around a week that he felt a familiar itch. he wouldn’t be in your debt, wouldn’t wait for the day when you’d inevitably ask for something.
so, he offered what he always did- himself. that’s what women usually wanted from him, anyway.
his idea didn’t exactly go as planned. if anything, it made him feel more conflicted, made him wonder why the hell you kept him around.
were you just lonely? did you enjoy his company?
“oh, no… i don’t do that,” you’d said, holding your hands up, flustered but adamant. “you don’t have to sell yourself to me or anything. who does that? like, what?”
the water patters on the tile floor, his body and mind feeling more clear and clean than they’ve been in a long time.
when the faucet squeaks shut, he steps out and snorts as he sees a new, fluffy black towel hanging beside yours behind the bathroom door. he grabs it, rubbing his scarred skin dry and running it through the damp strands of his hair.
the new clothes feel like heaven, truly.
in your room, engrossed by your phone, you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening. toji’s steps are almost silent, his arms crossing over his chest as he watches you beneath the covers.
he’s amused as you snicker at some post, the dim screen lighting up your face in the otherwise dark room.
“let me crash here, yeah?” he suggests, though it’s more of an order.
you’re startled, rightfully so, hiding your phone against your chest while you sit up straighter. “oh, you scared me! new clothes and you think you’re all that, huh? too good for the couch?”
yet, even as you chide him, you’re peeling back the covers for him, grabbing the extra pillows and moving them out of the way.
a satisfied grunt leaves him as he spreads out on the mattress, careless of the space he takes up. he tugs the blankets over his person, settling in like a big cat.
he curls into you. you don’t mind.
while you scroll along with one hand, the other supports his head and absentmindedly strokes the skin of his cheek.
his eyes watch you, his breaths becoming more steady and even. he’d never admit how much it means to him that you’d gotten him new clothes, new toiletries, practically a new home.
it’s more than he deserves, but he finds himself wanting to take as much as he can get.
he’s yours, even if he doesn’t know it. and, as the days go by, he wonders if you can be his, too.
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itneverendshere · 2 months ago
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LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - EIGHT
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pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy; abortion.
MASTERLIST
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Topper prided himself in keeping out of people’s business.
He hadn’t noticed anything was off with you on his own, he wouldn’t have; he didn’t do the whole “emotional radar” thing.
But Rafe had practically cornered him, demanding he figure out what was going on with you.
You were his cousin, after all. 
That didn’t stop the way his stomach twisted from thinking about lying to you, or how every part of him had always silently rooted for you and Rafe. He’d loved seeing you two together. You were a mess most days, for years, sure, but it was the kind of mess that made sense in a way, and Topper couldn’t help but admire it.
You were like fire and gasoline.
But that was before the break-up, before everything got fucked.
Now, you were just… distant. He never knew how to approach you without feeling like he was crossing a line, but the way you’d passed out on Rafe at the beach had him worrying in a way that was more personal than he wanted to admit.
He wasn’t a thinker, not really, he liked simple things: good waves, cold beer, and not getting roped into drama.
But there he was, standing outside your door with Korean fried chicken. He didn’t do feelings, and he didn’t do heavy conversations. Rafe owed him big for this. The conversation had been good, even when you started talking about Sarah and Ruthie. 
Topper was all in—laughing along, throwing in a dumb joke here and there, the usual. It felt nice, like when you were kids, sneaking your dad’s beers and pretending you weren’t gonna get caught.
But then he had to go and ruin it by asking if you were okay.
You went all stiff, then weirdly far away, laughing it off like he’d just asked you to explain calculus or something. You mumbled something about being fine and then bolted to the bathroom before he could even follow up with his usual Topper-brand wisdom.
He sat there, feeling uncomfortable, which wasn’t a thing he usually did. You were acting off, and it was messing with him more than he wanted to admit.
Finally, he decided he needed to move, so he got up to grab some water. Except, as he walked past the counter, his hip caught a pile of your mail, and an envelope went sliding to the floor.
“Crap,” he muttered, crouching to grab it. It was just some random envelope, but there was a phone number written on the front in messy blue ink.
Topper didn’t think about it—because thinking wasn’t really his strong suit—he just whipped out his phone and typed it in. Curiosity, man. It got him every time.
He hit call. He wasn’t trying to snoop or anything. It was just one of those things you do on autopilot, right? Call a number just to see who answers? Except this time, someone did answer.
The phone rang. Once. Twice. Then:
“Women’s Health Center, how can I help you?”
His brain short-circuited, full-on panic mode. He stared at the phone like it had grown a second screen, then frantically hit the hang-up button just as the bathroom door creaked open.
You were back.
Topper, sweating for no reason, slapped the envelope back on the counter like it was about to explode and turned to you with a smile that definitely didn’t match his pounding heart.
He got out of there as soon as possible, as he drove to meet Rafe, the whole thing was still playing on a loop in his head. That phone number, the voice on the other end of the line, the way you’d acted when he’d asked if you were okay—he couldn’t stop trying to force the pieces into place.
Something was going on, he wasn't sure what, and he wasn’t exactly the guy you went to for deep insights, but he felt something was up.
When he pulled into Tanyhill, he spotted Rafe leaning against his truck, scrolling through his phone with that permanent scowl he seemed to have these days. He barely had the car in park before Rafe was pushing off the truck and heading his way.
He climbed out, doing his best to act normal—which, for him, meant cracking the same goofy grin he always did. His mind was still spinning with a dozen half-formed thoughts about that phone call, that clinic, and how the the fuck he might fit into all of it. 
The only thing he knew for sure was that Rafe knowing could be catastrophic. Like, meteor-hits-earth catastrophic.
“You gotta chill,” Topper said, slamming his car door shut and giving Rafe a once-over. “Why do you look like you’re about to punch somebody?”
Rafe just glared, shoving his phone in his pocket. “What’d you find out?”
He blinked, thrown by how fast he cut to the point. “Nice to see you, too. Second, what makes you think I found out anything?”
“Don’t fuck with me, Top. Did you figure it out or not?”
“Yeah, I figured it out,” Topper shot back, crossing his arms. “But why the hell did you make me go through all this work if you already know what’s going on?”
Rafe shrugged, leaning back against the truck like this was all just some casual conversation. “Didn’t think you’d actually get it, to be honest.”
“Bro, I’m not that stupid. How did you get to the bottom of this shit? I’m still confused as fuck over here.”
Rafe’s mouth twitched like he was deciding whether to smirk or yell, hesettled on neither. “She passed out on me, remember?”
“So?” Topper shot back, frowning. “I’ve seen you pass out for, like, way less.”
“It wasn’t the same. It wasn’t a hangover or heat stroke, it was different. And she’s been weird lately, avoiding everyone.” Rafe leaned back against his truck, arms crossed, talking fast. “The hospital did blood work.”
Topper, who’d been zoning out halfway through his little doctor act, suddenly perked up.
“Wow,” he mused, dragging the word out. “Okay. So, how’d you take the news? I mean, shit, you look pretty calm for once. Didn’t think that was in your wheelhouse."
Rafe frowned, his sharp blue eyes narrowing, the crease between his brows deepening like it always did when he thought someone was wasting his time. 
"The fuck are you talking about?”
Topper shrugged like this was totally normal. “I just expected you to, like…freak out or somethin'. Throw a punch, maybe.”
“Throw a punch about what?” Rafe snapped.
“About—” Topper paused, squinting at Rafe like he was trying to solve a puzzle. “Wait. What are you supposed to do?”
Rafe’s hand twitched toward his jaw, fingers brushing over the stubble there, a telltale sign that he was gearing up to lose patience. He didn’t wait for Topper to answer before shaking his head, the movement quick and irritated. 
“Don’t do that, man,” he added, pointing a finger “I’ll help her figure it out. What else can I do?”
Topper tilted his head, genuinely impressed. “Damn. You really matured, huh? I mean, good for you.”
“Top, what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Rafe demanded, his tone sharp now like he was finally catching on to the fact that they weren’t on the same page.
Topper blinked, “I’m just saying you’re handling it better than I thought. Especially since she’s not—uh, showing yet.”
“Not showing what?”
“…The bump?”
He immediately realized he’d said the wrong thing, or maybe the right thing, but in the wrong tone, with the wrong level of context, and—okay, maybe he should just stop talking. 
Abort mission, abort mission. Topper immediately wanted to crawl into a hole. Dude, shut up, shut up, shut up.
“What the fuck?” Rafe’s voice cracked; his eyes blazing as he stepped closer. “What bump?!”
His laugh fizzled out under Rafe’s glare, it was starting to feel less like “concerned ex-boyfriend” and more like “interrogating cop.” He felt a bead of sweat slide down the back of his neck. 
Cool. Stay cool.
“Wait,” Topper held his hands up, trying to physically stop the situation from spiraling. “What do you think is wrong with her?”
His brain was spinning in a way it wasn’t built for. He was a simple guy—he liked clear problems and easy fixes. But this? This was a category-five disaster, and he was stuck right in the middle of it.
Rafe let out a sharp breath through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair, the small strands sticking up in every direction.
“I think she’s got a fucking infection! Why the hell would I think she’s pregnant?”
Topper hesitated, glancing toward the house like maybe Sarah or Wheezie might miraculously appear to save him. No such luck.
“Well fucking shit,” Topper blurted, the words tumbling out in a rush. His heart was pounding, and he was pretty sure he’d just signed his death warrant. “I—I didn’t say she’s pregnant, okay? I found this number, and it was for a women’s health center, and—fuck, man, I’m dead. I’m so dead.”
Rafe grabbed him by the collar, yanking him close. “Start talking. Now.”
“I wasn’t snooping, okay? It just—happened. I wasn’t trying to get in her business, but—”
“But what?” Rafe barked. His other hand twitched at his side, curling into a fist before flexing out again, a warning of how close Topper was to eating pavement, but Rafe wasn’t the one he feared right now.
You were going to kill him.
He could already picture the look on your face when you found out—those cold, furious eyes, the way your voice would drop, he was officially dead meat. He gulped, his mouth dry as his brain scrambled for something—anything—that wouldn’t get him killed or disowned.
“You better explain what the fuck you mean by ‘happened,’” Rafe growled, his grip tightening, giving Topper’s collar a shake, just enough to make his point clear.
Topper was done, leaving nothing but pure panic and the faint, distant sound of his voice saying things he definitely shouldn’t. 
“I called the number!” Topper yelped. “I didn’t even mean to, it was—dude, she’s gonna kill me, and I mean that literally. She will.”
“Not if I kill you first,” Rafe shoved him back, his grip finally loosening, his face unreadable now, which was somehow worse than when he’d looked ready to punch him. “You’re telling me you think she’s pregnant? And you didn’t remember to tell me sooner?”
“I didn’t!” Topper said quickly, panic bubbling over. “It’s not like she’s gonna tell me this kind of stuff.”
“Did she say anything to you? Anything about seeing a doctor or being sick?”
Topper shook his head so fast it made him dizzy. “I asked if she was okay, but she just brushed it off and changed the subject.”
The silence that followed was thick and suffocating, both of them staring each other down.
“No, no way. She’s probably… I don’t fucking know, changing her pill or something.”
Topper raised an eyebrow. “Changing her pill?”
“Yeah,” Rafe said quickly, “Or—what else do they do there? Those check-up things. Maybe she’s getting one of those.”
“Uh-huh,” Topper replied, not convinced but also not dumb enough to call him out on it outright. “Sure. Just a… routine check-up?”
“Exactly,” Rafe agreed a little too loud, his tone almost defensive as he started circling again, his hands gesturing wildly. “They don’t just deal with… y'know. They do all kinds of shit. Tests, prescriptions, all that stuff. It doesn’t mean anything.”
Topper scratched the back of his neck, his expression caught between agreement and unease. “I mean, yeah, they do other stuff… but don’t you think—”
“I don’t think anything, there’s nothing to think about. She’s fine. She’s—she’s fine.” He stopped pacing, standing rigid with his hands on his hips, glaring at the ground like it had personally offended him.
“Okay,” Topper started, his tone cautious. “I get that you don’t want to jump to conclusions, but—”
“I’m not jumping to conclusions!” Rafe barked, spinning around “You’re the one making it into something it’s not! She’s not—she wouldn’t—she hasn’t told me anything,” He muttered finally, “And if she’s hiding this… from me…”
He’d never seen Rafe like this—angry, yeah, but there was something else there, either way, it wasn’t good. His glare burned into him, but for the first time, there was hesitation behind it. He wasn’t just mad—he was scared. Topper couldn’t decide if that made him feel better or worse. 
“Holy shit,” Rafe muttered, gripping the side of his truck for balance. His vision going fuzzy as his heart raced like he’d just sprinted a mile. “Holy shit, what if—what if she is?”
“Dude, breathe,” Topper said, stepping closer cautiously like Rafe was a live grenade. “You don’t even—”
“Even if—if—she was, how the hell would that even—” He cut himself off, his face twisting like he couldn’t decide whether to finish the thought or abandon it entirely.
Topper didn’t need him to finish, he understood exactly what Rafe was thinking. The timeline, the breakup, the way everything had gone down between you.
Rafe’s breath hitched as he let go of the truck and paced a few steps, his hands on his hips, muttering under his breath. “No. No way. It’s not—she’d tell me, right? She’d fucking tell me.”
Images started flashing through his mind in rapid succession, each one more ridiculous and unhinged than the last. You, standing in some clinic, staring at a test with a blank expression. You, trying to figure out how to tell Rafe.
You, holding a baby—Rafe’s baby—in your arms.
“This doesn’t make any sense. We were careful. She’s just stressed, girls go through shit. Hormones or whatever. Right?”
“You’re asking me? I barely passed bio. I’m not exactly a walking textbook on—” He stopped himself, seeing the look on Rafe’s face. “I don’t know what’s going on with her, okay? But if this is what I think it is, you gotta handle it right. Don’t screw it up more than it already is.”
“And if I don’t handle it right?”
Topper forced a shaky grin, even as his stomach twisted in knots.
“Then I guess I’ll see you in hell, man. Because she’s gonna kill us both.”
Rafe’s hands went to his hips, his thumb brushing the edge of his pocket as he stared past Topper, he was trying to work out an equation that wasn’t adding up.
“She hasn’t said a word to me,” Rafe muttered, “Not at the hospital, not since. And you think…” He trailed off, dragging a hand over his face. 
Topper shifted on his feet, resisting the urge to bolt to the other side of the world.
“I guess, but I swear, it wasn’t on purpose.”
Rafe shot him a look, his brows knitting together, and Topper felt like he was under a microscope. “You called a random number. How does that ‘just happen’?”
He huffed, throwing his hands up. “I was grabbing some water, and her mail fell, and there was this number—I didn’t think! I just… acted.” He groaned, his head falling back as he stared at the sky. “I didn’t mean to put two and two together, but what was I supposed to do? You’re the one who made me go digging in the first place!”
“You really think that’s what’s going on?” Rafe asked finally, his voice quieter.
“You said she’s acting weird, and then there was that number, and…” He trailed off, scratching the back of his neck. 
“Do you even understand what this means? If she’s—if there’s a—” He broke off, “I’d have to—Jesus Christ, what would I even do? I’m not—God.”
His hands gripped the edge of the truck bed so hard his knuckles turned white, the veins in his arms standing out as he glared at the ground like it had personally offended him.
“If she didn’t tell me—” His voice was low, quiet in a way that made Topper wince because he knew what came next.
“Maybe just... ask her?”
 “Ask her?” he repeated, his voice disbelieving.
“Yeah, you know,” Topper said, gesturing vaguely. “Talk to her? Maybe find out what’s going on instead of losing your shit over worst-case scenarios?”
Rafe shook his head, “No. If she wanted me to know, she’d tell me. She’s... she’s dealing with her own stuff. It’s not my place to push.”
 “Since when do you not push?”
“Since now,” Rafe snapped, though even he didn’t sound convinced.
“Rafe—”
“No, seriously,” Rafe interrupted, his voice rising now, the tight restraint unraveling with every word. “If she’s—if she’s going through this, if she’s pregnant, and she didn’t tell me?” He let out a bitter chuckle, “What the fuck does that say? About me.”
Topper opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. This felt like a minefield, and if anyone was good at stepping on the wrong spot, it was him.
Rafe pushed off the truck, he couldn’t physically stay still. His eyes were burning as he raked a hand through his buzzed hair.
“I was—fuck. She thinks what? That I wouldn’t show up for this. She didn’t tell me because she doesn’t think I deserve to know.”
“That’s not true,” Topper said quickly, stepping closer, but Rafe’s empty laugh stopped him.
“Isn’t it?” Rafe’s voice was hollow now, all the fire drained out of him, turning his head slightly, just enough for Topper to see his throat working as he swallowed hard. “What the hell have I ever done to make her think I’d be there? That I’d—” He broke off. “Shit. I wouldn’t blame her. I can't even fucking blame her.”
“You still care about her, right?” Topper pressed, knowing he didn’t have to ask to know the answer.
Rafe’s head snapped up, “She’s the only thing I’ve ever cared about.”
He nodded slowly, “Then prove it.”
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The envelope sat exactly where you’d left it, the faintest corner of folded. You froze for a second, your pulse quickening.
No. No way.
It was fine. Fine.
The number wasn’t even labeled—just digits scrawled hastily, you hadn’t touched it in days. Still, you couldn’t stop the tiny seed of panic attaching itself to your chest. There was absolutely no way Topper could’ve seen it, let alone put two and two together.
You exhaled slowly, placing it back on the counter.
He didn’t see it. He couldn’t have seen it.
Then why had he acted so… off? The pale face, the sudden excuse, the jittery energy—it was all so unlike him.
You shook your head, trying to push the thought away, a million things could’ve set him off. 
Maybe Ruthie had texted him something awful, or maybe he’d remembered he had to pick up his dry cleaning before the shop closed. Knowing Topper, it was probably something stupid and unrelated to you entirely.
Still, the nagging lingered as you cleaned up the counter and threw away the napkins. You glanced at the envelope one last time, then slid it into a drawer and shut it firmly. Whatever was going on with your cousin, it couldn’t have anything to do with that. It was impossible. And yet…
You sighed, rubbing your temples. 
“Pregnancy brain,” you muttered to yourself. “Making me paranoid over nothing.”
Of course that didn’t stop your heart from jumping every time the drawer creaked, or when you saw anything even remotely similar to that envelope’s color lying around the house for the entire night. Not that he’d ask, of course—Topper wasn’t the confrontational type, especially not with you. But he noticed things. And when he noticed, he worried.
The next morning you sank onto the couch, hugging a pillow to your chest. Topper was close, but he wasn’t like Sarah. She had been able to look you in the eye and say, You know I’m here, right? and mean it without any strings attached. Topper, though…
Your fingers itched toward your phone, even though it was stupid to call her so early over this. Still, you needed someone to remind you that you weren’t losing it, that Topper’s weirdness had nothing to do with anything serious.
Before you could talk yourself out of it, you found Sarah’s number, pressing the call button. She picked up on the second ring, “Hey, what’s wrong?”
You could picture her, sitting in her car or probably stretched out somewhere in Poguelandia with her feet propped up on a table, looking concerned.
“Nothing’s wrong. I just…” You trailed off, fiddling with the edge of a pillow. 
“Topper’s been acting strange. And I think I’m just overthinking it, but it’s making me crazy.”
She made a sound between a hum and a laugh. “So the Topper panic spiral. That’s what we’re dealing with?”
“Basically,” you muttered, trying to keep your tone light. “But this time… He was here last night, and I thought he saw this random piece of paper I had with, you know. A number on it.” You took a shaky breath, embarrassed for how paranoid you sounded. “But he couldn’t have, right? I mean, it was buried under five other things.”
“Okay,” Sarah said slowly, clearly choosing her words. “First, let’s just say that if he did see anything, which he probably didn’t, he wouldn’t assume the worst. He’s your cousin; he knows you don’t tell him everything, and he respects that. Right?”
“Yeah… I guess.” You chewed your lip, feeling a little stupid for even calling her.  “But what if he does put it together, Sarah? I don’t know if I’m ready for that.”
“He won’t,” she reassured, like she could see right through your anxiety. “And you don’t need to feel bad for wanting to keep this private. You’re allowed to handle it however you need to. You’re not doing anything wrong.”
You exhaled, the knot in your chest loosening a little. She always knew how to talk you down, "Okay,” you murmured, and a shaky laugh slipped out. “Maybe I'm being paranoid.”
“Pregnancy brain,” she teased, and you couldn’t help but smile.
You hung up feeling marginally better.
Sarah had a way of calming you down, but the uneasiness stayed with you, the way it always did when you couldn’t fully explain something.
But the relief was fleeting, by lunchtime, the nagging voice in your head was back. Topper wasn’t malicious, but he did have a habit of talking without thinking, and the last thing you needed was for this to get out before you were ready. Not only was this a huge scandal, but it was your business.
You busied yourself with small tasks—folding laundry, wiping down the counters, pretending that everything was fine. It wasn’t until almost noon that your phone rang. The hospital’s number flashed on the screen, and your stomach dropped.
“Hello?”
“Hi, is this Miss Thornton?” the voice on the other end asked politely, too polite for comfort.
“This is she."
“This is Linda from the hospital. I’m calling about your recent bloodwork. We had a bit of an issue with our system, and unfortunately, there was a delay in getting back to you. We also lost some patient information temporarily—”
“Wait, what?” you interrupted, not liking where this was going, “What do you mean you lost information?”
“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Linda said quickly, as if that would make you feel better. “We managed to recover most of it, but in the meantime, we had to rely on emergency contact information to reach out. Dr. Harris called yours last night.”
Your breath caught. “Called... my emergency contact?”
“Yes.”
“Sarah Cameron? She didn’t tell me someone called.”
“She’s not listed as your emergency contact in our system, Rafe Cameron is. It might be an older record?”
Fuck.
Your heart was in your throat. “What... what did he tell him?”
“He only left a generic message asking for you to follow up about your bloodwork. Nothing specific.”
“Nothing specific,” you repeated, more to yourself than to her. Relief and panic warred within you. If Rafe knew, he’d already be there, the night before, demanding answers. Right?
“We need you to come back in. It’s possible you may have an infection, and we need to run a few more tests.”
You didn’t even hear the rest of her explanation.
Your fingers felt numb as you mumbled something that vaguely resembled agreement and hung up.
Infection, that was what she’d said. That was all it was. Not… not anything else. If it were anything else, they wouldn’t have just called—they’d have told Rafe.
“Stop,” you muttered aloud, shaking your head. “Stop spiraling.”
But your brain wouldn’t listen.
“Generic message,” Linda had said, but did it sound generic? What did he think when he got it? Had he laughed it off, or was he running his stupid pristine bedroom, piecing together clues you hadn’t even realized you’d left?
You didn’t want to text Sarah again.
You could imagine her smirking, “I told you, he’s not going to magically grow psychic overnight.” Yeah, sure, but this was Rafe.
He didn’t need magic. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to focus on Sarah’s voice in your head. “You’re not doing anything wrong.”
Except it didn’t feel like that. You hadn’t thought about Rafe as your emergency contact in months, hadn’t needed to. 
You sank into the couch, hugging your knees to your chest.
“This is so stupid,” you muttered, but your voice didn’t make it feel any less real. You weren’t even sure what you were spiraling over anymore. The envelope? The hospital? The baby?
“Okay,” you said out loud. “Okay, it’s fine. Everything’s fine.”
The sound of your voice didn’t even convince you. Your brain wouldn’t stop jumping from one thing to the next, spinning every scenario you didn’t want to think about. 
What if he did know? If that was enough to set him off, to make him call someone, pull some strings...Shit, what if he did show up, and you had to explain why you were dodging everyone and keeping things from him and—stop. 
Stop. 
You were doing it again. The spiraling. The pregnancy brain Sarah teased you about like it was some sort of cute quirk, but wasn’t cute.
You sat up straight, squeezing the couch pillow so hard you thought it might burst. Breathe. Just breathe, you’d made it this far without imploding.
You glanced toward the drawer again, the one with the envelope. You should’ve burned it, shredded it first. No, you had to keep it—just in case. But just in case of what? Just in case you needed more reasons to feel like a lunatic.
Oh my god. What if Topper saw the stupid number, and then Rafe got the hospital call, and then—bam—suddenly, they had the whole damn thing figured out?
You could feel it already—the panic. You liked to think they were both too stupid for their own good, but they were also observant. Rafe, that bastard always knew how to put things together faster than anyone. 
What if—what if it’s that simple for them? What if they both saw it, and then they were just sitting there, having some stupid-ass conversation, connecting dots you didn’t even realize were dots?
No. Stop. Stop thinking like that.
You were getting carried away, jumping to conclusions like some manic soap opera character. You weren’t that girl. Not really. But the thought of them talking—Topper with his concern and Rafe with his overbearing intensity.
Your fingers tapped a frantic rhythm against the pillow. The idea of him figuring it out? Oh, that made your skin crawl. Not because he’d be cruel—no, that wasn’t his style. He’d just be so… himself.
Overwhelming, determined to “fix” things for you, even when you didn’t ask for it. 
You groaned, dropping the pillow and standing abruptly, like the movement might kill the growing dread. No, you told yourself firmly.
You weren’t spiraling over things that hadn’t even happened yet.
But the voice in your head, the one that always sounded a little too much like Rafe, had other plans: What if it’s already too late?
You paced the living room, arms crossed tightly over your chest. This was ridiculous, you were ridiculous. Nothing had happened, nothing was going to happen. The number wasn’t even that suspicious, it could’ve been anything.
You groaned again, flopping onto the couch like the dramatic mess you were currently embodying. Rafe had probably gotten the hospital call, rolled his eyes without a second thought, too busy with his new precious life.
Your stomach churned, and you pressed your hands against it instinctively. It wasn’t showing yet—thank god—but you couldn’t help the way your mind spiraled back to it, to all the ways this could go wrong.
You grabbed your car keys without thinking, maybe it would clear your head. A drive—that’s what you needed. Get out of the house, and put some distance between you and the stupid envelope, the phone calls, all of it. You turned the knob, yanked the door open—
—and froze.
Rafe’s hand was raised mid-air, clearly about to knock. You didn’t even try to hide the way your breath hitched. 
Oh, no. No, no, no.
Standing there on the porch like he hadn’t just derailed your entire plan. As if it was still perfectly normal for him to show up unannounced, one hand shoved into his pocket and the other gripping his phone, his head tilted in a maddeningly familiar way.
His hand hovered uncertainly on the doorframe as you stepped back, your arms folding protectively over your chest. He didn’t push past you, didn’t move his weight forward—just stood there.
He glanced down at the spare key still in his hand, turning it over like he was considering whether he even had the right to use it. “They called me last night.”
Okay, he was just here because of the hospital, a coincidence, that’s all it was.
“And? You could’ve ignored it.”
His hand flexed at his side like he didn’t know what to do with it. “I thought something might be wrong.”
“It’s not.” Your voice was clipped, cold. “They called the wrong number. End of story.”
He didn’t rise to the bait.
“I thought—” He cut himself off, exhaling sharply. “I thought you were sick.”
“Like I said, it was a mix-up.”
His jaw ticked. That tiny muscle in his cheek twitched, the one that always flared when he was suspicious.
“Funny, they didn’t sound mixed up when they said your name,” he drawled, his tone probing. “Wanna try again?”
“Mind your fucking business,” Your voice was defensive, and you hated the crackle of guilt in your chest when he flinched. “I don’t need you to pretend to care. Why are you even here?” you snapped, taking a step back. The space between you felt vulnerable. “Don’t you have someone else to worry about?"
You felt cornered with every second he stood there.
“We need to talk.”
Maybe if you acted calm, like nothing was wrong, he’d stop looking at you like that. Vulnerability wasn’t something you were good at, he’d already taken too much. He always took too much.
“I don’t owe you shit. Not explanations, not answers, nothing. Leave.”
He didn’t. Of course, he didn’t.
Rafe didn’t know how to let shit go, not when it came to you, he didn’t back away.
“You’re right,” he said, surprising you. “You don’t, but I’m not leaving until we talk.”
The way he said, it wasn’t even a threat. It was worse than that. It was calm, resolute, like he’d already decided, and nothing you said or did could change it. 
That scared you more than anything.
“There’s nothing to talk about,” you hissed, “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”
He arched an eyebrow, his eyes flicking to the edge of the couch where your phone still sat, “You sure about that?”
“God, you’re always like this. Always overstepping, always assuming—”
“I know."
All the noise in your head—your spiraling thoughts, your excuses, your endless denials—went silent, except for the way your heart thudded in your chest, so fast, it hurt. He hadn’t raised his voice, but those two words hit you like a kick to your chest.
No, he couldn’t—he didn’t, he was bluffing, he had to be. Air caught in your throat, and for a moment, you thought you might choke on it. He didn’t move, didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t know.
Your tongue went dry. 
“What are you talking about?” You couldn’t breathe. It felt like someone was squeezing your chest. You shook your head again, more violently this time, stepping back, “You don’t know shit.”
“I think I do.” His voice was quiet, and that made it worse, it wasn’t cold or angry; it wasn’t even accusing. He didn’t sound like he wanted to be right, he just sounded tired.
You prayed to come up with something—anything—to deflect, to deny, to keep the truth buried where it belonged. 
“You’re delusional,” you took another step back, putting more space between you and the man who had always known you too well.
He just shook his head, “You don’t have to lie to me, you’re scared, you’re not even trying to hide it.”
It was the way he stared with those stupid blue eyes, he was peeling back your layers. He always did that, made you feel like he could see something in you that you weren’t ready to acknowledge.
“Oh, fuck off.” You threw your hands up. “You don’t know shit about what I’m feeling. You’ve got no right to—I’m not lying.”
It still hurt how much you missed him, hurt to even look at him.
“Don’t pull this cryptic bullshit with me, if you’ve got something to say, say it.”
“You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
The thing you’d been running from, denying, hiding, you simply stared at him, trying to decide if there was any way to lie your way out of this.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” You tried to laugh, but it came out strangled, desperate. “T-That’s insane. You’ve lost your mind.”
Rafe wasn’t gloating or triumphant—he just looked… resigned, he’d pieced it together before he showed up.
“Don’t do that. Don’t lie to me, not about this.”
You wanted to scream, to shove him, to do anything that would make him stop looking at you like he cared. Like he knew you. Because if you stopped long enough to think about it, you knew it was over.
He’d already seen it.
“I mean it, Rafe.” Your hand tightened on the door, nails digging into the wood. “Get the fuck out of my house.”
God, this was so fucked. You wanted him gone, but wanted him here, needed him to leave you alone, but at the same time, you hated that he could just leave.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
You thought about what he’d do if he knew—really knew. Not just the vague sense he had now, but the details. Would he try to stop you? 
Your lip quivered, and you hated yourself for it. “You’re wrong.”
You stared at him, at the way his shoulders hunched slightly, his usual confidence worn down. You hated him for being calm for once in his fucking life, for being here, for not letting this slide when it was none of his fucking business.
“Am I?”
Your hands clenched tighter, nails biting into your palms. “Why? Why do you even care? It’s not like you—”
“Because it’s mine.”
Your breath hitched again, and this time, you couldn’t hide it. You wanted to deny it, to throw something—hell, anything—back at him to make him shut the fuck up. But your throat felt like it had shut off entirely, and your mind had gone blank.
“I—” you stammered, shaking your head violently, “No. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re—”
“Hey, hey, just—just stop,” he said, his voice careful, as if he was trying not to spook you. “I’m not—Jesus, I’m not here to fight with you, okay? I’m not here to make this harder.”
Your chest heaved, a bitter laugh escaping before you could stop it. He was too late—late to care, late to help, late to fix anything. Five days, that’s all you had to get through.
Five days until you didn’t have to think about it anymore. 
This is the right choice, you told yourself for the hundredth time. You couldn’t bring a baby into this mess.
“You’re doing a hell of a job at that.”
“I just want to help. If you let me—”
“No,” you interrupted, grabbing the edge of the door. “I’m fixing it.”
“Fixing—?” Rafe’s brow furrowed, his confusion almost comical He started to step forward, but you stopped him with a resentful glare that made him stop. “What does that even mean?”
“It means you can take your fake concern and shove it up your ass.”
His brow furrowed. “It’s not fake—” His face twisted in confusion, mouth opening like he was about to argue, but you didn’t give him the chance, slamming the door in his face, so hard the frame rattled.
“Of course. Of course, it’s mine,” you muttered to yourself, mocking his stupid, self-righteous tone.
You leaned back against the door, sliding to the floor, arms crossed over your knees as your brain whirred like it was trying to kill you.
It wasn’t like you had a choice.
Technically, you did, but what were you supposed to do? Keep it and become a tragic sob story? The words almost felt like you’d ripped them out of someone else’s mouth, right or wrong didn’t even matter anymore. There wasn’t space in your life for this—for him, for a baby, for any of it.
A muffled knock sounded from the front door—tentative, like he was giving you a moment.
“Go away,” you yelled, your voice hoarse.
“Open the door.”
Your thoughts taunted you with memories and possibilities you didn’t want to entertain. The way Rafe had looked at you—like he knew—it was unbearable.
How had he put it together? Maybe you'd slip up in tiny ways, leaving a trail of breadcrumbs for him to follow. You hated yourself for being so careless, despised him even more for being so fucking relentless.
You wiped your cheeks roughly, not realizing you’d started crying until your sleeve came back damp.
“Please, just open the door. We can talk—just talk, okay?
“No,” you muttered to the empty room. “No, I’m not doing this.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, leaning your head back against the door and pressing your hands over your ears to block him out. 
“Don’t shut me out like this,” he begged. “I can’t—fuck, I can’t stand it when you do this. Just open the door. Five minutes, that’s all I’m asking.”
He had a key. If he wanted to, he could let himself in at any moment, but he didn’t, that wasn’t the Rafe you were used to.
Before, he'd have barged right in, shouted until your ears bled, and demanded answers. He would’ve tried to fix it or destroy it, maybe both. 
You hated that he still acted like he cared, that he was trying to be so fucking reasonable now, when just a few months ago, he would’ve lost it, broken through any barrier to get what he wanted.
This was worse, this Rafe was wearing you down.
Another hushed plea made it through the door, but all you could think was how thin the wood felt, how it barely drowned the sound of his voice. A new door might be better, something heavier, more solid, that could drown out everything—the desperation, the crack in his voice.
Tears prickled at the corners of your eyes, and you bit hard on the inside of your cheek to keep them from falling. 
“I know you’re scared,” he continued, “And I know you think I’ll screw this up—God knows I probably will. But please don’t keep me in the dark. Just tell me what’s going on.”
You pictured flipping through hardware store catalogs, weighing your options: oak? steel? soundproofing foam?
“Please,” Rafe whispered, and the rawness in his voice scraped against you like nails on a chalkboard. You tilted your head back against the door, willing yourself not to cry again. 
Steel doors don’t warp as easily as wood.
You swallowed hard, your body aching as you fought the sob threatening to escape. He didn’t deserve this—didn’t deserve to sound so wrecked over you. He'd done this to himself.
Your fingers twitched against the door handle, the temptation to open it curling around you, but instead, you thought about bolts.
Deadbolts, a second lock could work, something he couldn’t get through even if he had the key.
His voice wavered again, you thought he might start crying, too, yet all you did was glance at the base of the door. A better seal would muffle the noise more. Maybe weatherstripping? That could help.
You pressed your hands tighter over your ears, as though it would help. It didn’t. Nothing would—not until you replaced the lock, the door, the memory of him standing there and breaking himself open for you.
God, you really needed a new door—and a new heart.
One that didn’t twist at the sound of his voice, that didn’t flinch every time he called your name like it was a prayer. A heart that didn’t feel for him, you told yourself, over and over, like a mantra. If you could just stop the way your chest tightened at his pleas, stop the ache in your ribs when he said he couldn’t let this go.
You wanted steel walls, that could keep everything out—his voice, his touch, the memories of all the good parts of him that had kept you hanging on for so long. Because of this heart? It was useless, too soft, too easily swayed, still willing to believe him, even when you knew better.
“Please, just talk to me,” Rafe begged. You bit your lip hard enough to taste blood.
You couldn’t help but wonder if this calmness came from Sofia.
Perhaps she was the reason he’d changed, maybe she had somehow made him different, had softened the sharp edges of the guy you used to know. She was calm, collected—nothing like you. It hurt like a bitch, the thought that someone else could make him this patient. You wondered if she’d taught him how to handle his emotions, how to be this way—he’d learned some secret he never bothered to share with you.
You couldn't let yourself go there, couldn't let the bitterness of that thought settle in your mind for too long.
“Talk to me.”
No. Not this time.
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TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige
@rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds
@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron
@serrendiipty @sunny1616 @yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog
@psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei
@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2
@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt
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fanaticalthings · 8 months ago
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I want an AU where after Jason gets brought back to life, he channels his inner rage and turmoil into the academics instead of murder
Talia has like infinite money and a crap ton of influence, so she can absolutely get Jason the best tutors and can easily get him into the most prestigious schools if Jason wanted to (she doesn't need to do that though because Jason's just smart enough to get into them on his own)
The major he chooses? Med.
Why? Because Bruce dropped out of med school.
Jason practically flies through all the secondary education that he needs to catch up on and is already en route to earning his bachelor's AND his master's.
And it'd be so incredibly funny if the way Bruce and Jason reunite in this AU was purely by coincidence.
Bruce (as Brucie Wayne) offers to show up as a guest lecturer at Hudson University (the school Dick attended but dropped out of so double points for Jason), maybe to talk about future career paths and job positions at WE idk
So as Bruce is just wandering around the campus, he randomly bumps into a student and immediately puts on the Brucie act and is all "Oh my, I'm SO sorry, I'm just a klutz haha" only to stop dead silent when he makes eye contact with a very alive, very grown Jason Todd, who also stops dead in his tracks, mouth agape, staring at Bruce like the world's about to end
And before Bruce can get his thoughts straight, Jason just bolts out of there like his life depends on it, and Bruce is just in shambles for the rest of the day.
It doesn't help that the person giving Bruce the tour is all like "Oh yeah, that's Jason, he's one of the heads on our student council haha, anyways, this way, Mr. Wayne." and Bruce is just stood there bluescreening.
----
Alternatively, it'd be kinda funny if this all happened AFTER the events of UTRH where after the final encounter with Bruce and Joker and the whole explosion, Jason's just like "yk what, maybe I'm just gonna turn over a new leaf and pursue a higher education"
So while Gotham's still reeling from the aftermath of Jason's near takeover as the top crime lord and Bruce is still painstakingly trying to figure out where his son went, the whole time Jason's just been chilling on a school campus and Bruce just so happens to bump into his son (who, last time they met, tried to kill Bruce and blew up the building they were all in) and Jason's just all normal-looking with his textbooks and nerdy glasses and Bruce doesn't know whether to scream or cry.
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madamechrissy · 10 days ago
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Let me in your ocean, Swim
The five times Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, and the one that works
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Pairings- Sukuna x F reader (both like 23/24)
Summary- You have known Sukuna your entire life, and he's infuriated you for most of it. Since you were kids on a playground he was picking on you, and you decided you hate him (love him!?) little do you know, he's been in love with you since the moment you met. There were five times he tried and epically failed to let you know. You all don't see each other for two years after college, when you run into him on Valentine's day at the bar- and you think, what better for getting jilted tonight then a hate fuck from Sukuna!? But... no, in fact he needs to finally tell you the truth. Sukuna 5+1 valentines story
CW- MDNI/NSFW- Idiots to lovers, enemies to lovers (kinda!?) Sukuna is TERRIBLE at feelings, reader is bratty, he is lowkey a bully when you're younger, go through the five times he tried to tell you (intermingles with the current night) sweet, angsty, smutty. Warnings oh boy a lot- Explicit sex, sexual tension, tummy bulges, breed kink, oral sex (m and f recieving) fingering, rough sex, creampie, possessive Sukuna, lots of dirty talk, alcohol underage, use of recreational drugs etc, it's me so ofc we have a lowkey breed kink lol- LONG ONE- 14.8k wc- TRUST ME PLZ lol
tracks for this Breathe // On My Own // Me & U // Wicked Games // The High
Comments/reblogs so appreciated if you enjoyyyy <3
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You didn’t expect to be sitting alone at a bar for Valentine’s day, but here you are, dressed to the nines in a beautiful glittery black dress, hair done up, makeup perfect on your skin. You have glittery bangles along your wrist, and red bottom heels, you’re as dressed up as you ever got, but right before your date, your boyfriend decided to break things off with you.
Which leads you to this hole in the wall bar, across the street from the fancy restaurant you’d sat at for an hour waiting on him, only to get broken up via text. Sighing, you order another drink, tensing then when you hear it, the damn voice of the man who you simultaneously couldn’t stand and also had it bad for, for years and years, ever since elementary school.
“Tch, what’re you doing here brat?” You glare up at him, but when you see just how good Sukuna looks, after two years of not seeing him? You falter, lips parted just so as he smirks down at you.
However, his heart is pounding in his chest, despite certainly not showing you outwardly, you take his damn breath away. Sukuna has always found you to be the most beautiful, infuriating little creature in existence. And you’ve just gotten more beautiful, which in itself irritates the shit out of him, it was hard enough acting ‘normal’ around you all his life.
But now?
“What’re you doing here, Kuna?” He snorts, rolling ruby red eyes, leaning against the bar with an elbow propped on it, glaring at you.
“Don’t call me that, god.”
“It irritates you, so I will.” You smile up at him, sipping the rest of your drink, which he eyes disparagingly.
“What’s that pink shit?”
“Oh, like your hair?” You counter, raising a brow, his jaw sets. “Ya want one, Kuna?”
“No, I don’t want your little bitch drink.” You roll your eyes now, as he sits next to you, and your eyes sweep over his starch white dress shirt and black slacks, stretching over muscles that seemed to have only gotten more pronounced since college.
“Not even my cherry, hmm?” You tease, pulling the maraschino out of your cup, dangling it in front of his face.
“That’s long gone, I’m sure, looking all slutty …” He murmurs, right in your ear, you shove at him, scoffing.
“You’re slutty, Sukuna. Pretty sure you fucked a whole sorority last time we caught up?”
“Mmm, rumors, rumors.” He holds up two fingers now. “Gimme something that’s not a little bitch drink, please.”
“So manly, oh heavens!” You pretend to fan yourself and he can’t stop the laughter, but he soon covers it with a glare.
“Get her some more of this pink crap.” He says, and you are a little surprised then, looking at the handsome man who’s had your heart for so long you can’t remember a time before him.
“Are you buying me a drink?”
“I am buying you a drink. I… it’s been a long time.” He misses you, but the words are caught in his throat.
“It has been a long time. Thank you.” You smile as the bartender hands you another dirty Shirley, and hands Sukuna a glass of whiskey on the rocks. He sips at it, eyes darting over your frame, your sexy body that is so well shown in that dress of yours, all he can think of is unzipping it.
“Where’s the boyfriend?” You blink a bit.
“How’d you know I had one?”
Well, Sukuna’s been insta stalking you but he won’t admit it.
“Heard it from our friends, duh. Just because we don’t see each other doesn’t mean I don’t see them.”
“Yeah well, it’s not like… I didn’t want to see you. We left things…”
“Yeah.” He sighs now, running a hand through pastel locks, a hand with black tattoos and black nails, throwing off this corporate vibe he has, something dark about him, but then, there’s always been. “You single on Valentine’s day?”
“I am, officially. Ass of a boyfriend left me across the street via text. And… are you…”
“Yeah, I also got broken up with, but slapped in the face, and in person. Think they planned the shit?” You giggle, shaking your head and sipping your drink, leaning just a bit closer, one of your legs brushing his, strong muscles of his pressing on yours. He damn near moans just at feeling your body after so, so long.
“Maybe they did. I’ve wanted to see you, though… I just…”
“There’s something I wanted to… tell you. Actually. I thought about calling you, but…”
“Yeah? Calling me?”
“So surprising?”
“You hate me? So yeah.”
Sukuna sighs now, sipping his drink again, looking down into your beautiful eyes, your beautiful face, remembering just all those times he’d ruined it with you. Fuck, since the first moment he met you, he was a dick, and pushed you away, all because the shit he feels terrifies him. And over the years, he’s tried, but he thought you were too far gone, nothing but a regret, a memory.
Something to compare every girl he’s with, never you, are they? There’s no one like you.
But you’re here of all places, and though Sukuna thinks shit like ‘signs’ are the dumbest thing ever, he can’t let this pass, not this time. He takes a breath and his lips part, his fingers then brush your hair back, something far too gentle for Sukuna, something that makes your eyes dilate, your little gasp so sexy he can’t think.
“You trying to fuck me tonight?” You ask, and he chuckles, the gentle brush now a rough grip in your hair, leaning over you.
You taste the whiskey on his breath, you feel his lips so close, your breaths mingling, as your hand comes to his shirt, balling the fancy material in your little fist. “That what you want, brat? Me to fuck you finally?”
“Maybe I do.” He freezes then, blinking long lashes, leaning even closer, free hand gripping your waist in the crowded bar. “A hate fuck? Sounds like the perfect thing to forget tonight.”
“Hate fuck, huh?” What you don’t know is, Sukuna is in love with you.
“Never thought of it? I doubt that. I remember things.” You lean even closer, hand now pulling at the nape of your neck, his other hand pressing against your ribcage, thumb right under the swell of your breasts, shooting desire down your tummy, across your body.
“I remember more, trust me. I need… to tell you shit. Okay? Will your bratty ass listen?”
“Make me.”
“I swear to…” You giggle as he slams his lips on yours, exhaling at how good it feels, god was good the word!? How fucking perfect you feel, mushy things he’ll never admit, his heart thudding in his chest. You whimper, this sound from the back of your throat that has him picturing every sound he’s going to elicit from you tonight.
His lips are firm, but surprisingly gentle for Sukuna, different from the couple of kisses over the years, no it’s too much. His tongue slipping between the seam of your lips, and devouring your mouth. Your arms slip up around his neck, kissing him back, arching toward him more and more. Your years of desire come out, your body reacting to his every movement.
You want him.
He needs you.
He pulls back, taking a breath and smirking. “Fucked out expression how? From a kiss?”
“You’re such a dick, I swear to god.” You shove at him now, as the music from the bar vibrates, beating erratic like your heart.
“Listen… if you can actually listen to me tonight, I’ll make you cum so much you won’t even be able to think about your dumb little ex boyfriend. Yeah?” Your chest heaves up and down with your breaths, vivid images spilling through, his white grin flashes under the neon lights. “Can’t think now?”
“I… fucking… okay. I’ll listen to whatever bullshit you want, I guess.”
“Need me that bad?”
“I’m gonna go-”
“No, shit. Shit, no don’t… stop it.” He holds you to him now, sighing as he looks at your pretty scowl, one that just makes him want you more. “Just give me the night to explain some shit, yeah?”
“Fine. But let’s get out of here after this drink.”
“Desperate to be alone, huh?”
“Y’know, that bartender is kinda cute.” You wink at him then, leaning forward, earning Sukuna yanking at your hair. “Ow! Always did that shit.”
“That’s the first thing I wanted to talk about… the day we met.” You rest your chin on your hand now, hair falling just so as he remembers.
*****
The first time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 4th/5th grade (Kuna age 11, Y/N age 10)
You were the new girl, a little shy but so pretty. And well, when you came up to Sukuna and smiled, asking where your class was, he couldn’t even speak, he just stood there, mouth flopping like some fish as you waited. His little brother Yuuji finally answered you, staring at his brother in confusion. ‘it’s right there across the hall’.
“Oh, thank you! What’s your name?” You smile at him then, and your smile is just too… annoying, yes, it annoys Sukuna.
“Yuuji, I’m in fourth grade but Sukuna is in fifth. What grade are you in?” He nudges his brother, who rolls his ruby red eyes.
“I’m in fourth too! Oh, so you’re Sukuna then?” You ask sweetly, turning to Sukuna, something happens then, Sukuna blushes. “Are you okay?”
He scowls at you now. “Of course I am, what’re you looking at?” He demanded, and your mouth opened in surprise.
“What?”
“Yeah, stop staring, new kid.” You roll your eyes now, shaking your head with a narrowing of your own eyes.
“You’re pretty rude.”
“You’re pretty weird.” You scoff then, and Yuuji is waving his arms up and down, stepping between you.
“Be nice, Sukuna. Um, can I walk you to class?” You nod then, giving Sukuna a glare, as Yuuji whispers in his ear.
“You’re such a jerk, she’s pretty.”
“Tch, whatever.” Sukuna watches as you walk off with Yuuji then, he does not like whatever it is you just made him feel. He’s thankful you’re not in any of his classes until you walk right into art, and you’re nervously standing near the teacher. She introduces you, and Sukuna finally learns your name.
“You can sit next to Sukuna!” Sukuna crosses his arms, jaw setting, and you look at him, wondering just what his problem is.
You think he’s really cute, for such a jerk, as you sit next to him and peer over at his sketch, which is actually really good. Trying to still be friendly, you let him know- “that’s awesome!”
Sukuna scoffs, covering it up quickly, no one has really seen his art, and your compliment makes him blush. “I didn’t show you.”
You frown now, brows knitting together. “Um, sorry, but it’s so cool. Could I see more?”
“No!”
“Um…”
“Just stop talking, would you? Bad enough I have to sit by you.” Your lower lip trembles, and Sukuna feels horrible now. “I’m… look, I’m-”
“Sorry.” You whisper, sniffling just a bit and looking at the teacher, and Sukuna hates himself then, he keeps wanting to say something, anything, but when he finally catches you in the hall, you glare at him.
How are you even cuter glaring!?
“Leave me alone, you’re a… a jerk!” You say then, and he scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.
“Me, a jerk? Why because I’m not fawning over the new girl?”
“No, because you… just are a jerk!”
“Well you’re a brat.” Sukuna says, and you gasp, turning angrily and clutching your books, Sukuna rubs his hand over his face, sighing then.
He really messed that up.
*****
You swirl your straw around your cup as Sukuna sips on his whiskey, looking far too damn fine you think, and you know it’s not the couple of drinks in your system. It’s just him and who he is, everything about him since day one drew you in, despite his best efforts at being an ass to you. You smile a bit as you remember the day that you met him.
“You were so mean, for no reason.” You muse softly, he sighs then, running a hand through pink strands of slick backed hair.
“Yeah, I was… then when I tried to apologize, you scowled at me.” You giggle then, the sound ending him completely, the way your cute nose scrunches up, god had he ever told you? Has he ever really said a compliment more than a handful of times to you?
“I was mad at you, for sure. My whole life people really liked me, but you didn’t at all, and I couldn’t fix it.”
“People pleaser.” You sigh at that, leaning a bit on your elbow, breasts showing far too much in your pretty neckline.
“I am, for sure.”
“When you laugh…” He trails off now, psyching himself up, taking a breath as he studies you seriously.
“When I laugh…”
“Your nose scrunches up… it’s cute.” He mumbles, almost like he’s in pain, and you giggle again, making him smile just a bit before he realizes it.
“It is!? Is that a compliment from Sukuna?”
“There are a lot of compliments I have for you. But, yeah, it’s annoyingly cute.” Your giggles relax a bit, as you now bite your lower lip, tempting him to kiss you all over again. “The things I can’t wait to do to you.”
That sobers you up, sending chills across your entire body, desire stark on your pretty face. “Oh yeah?” Your little breathy mumble wrecks him, but outwardly he raises a brow.
“Is that your attempt at being nonchalant, brat? Oh yeah?” He mocks, you shove at him then, as he snorts in laughter.
“Is that your attempt at being sexy- ‘can’t wait to show you little brat’ pshh.” You’re mocking him in a deep tone, Sukuna can’t stop the smirk.
“Bet it worked, bet you’re all wet, hmm?” You pause now, biting your lower lip again, teeth leaving marks when he gently pulls it from your teeth’s grip. “Nothing smart to say?”
“Shut up.” Is all you mumble, and he exhales, ruby eyes glinting as they watch you so carefully, studying your every feature. “So is that what you needed to say? My laugh is kind of cute?”
Sukuna clears his throat now, shifting a bit on the barstool, running a thumb down the glass. “No. The day we met, I should have told you that… you were pretty, and sweet. And I was an ass.” You blink in confusion.
“Sukuna, are you dying or something!? Is this some end of life apology tour!? You better not be, I swear to-”
“Shut it.” He stops you now, a fingertip to your lips. “I ain’t dying, calm down, can a man not… speak on some shit?”
“Sure, but it’s you, like my mortal enemy? Bane of my existence? Bully the entirety of school?”
One of his big hands is brushing against your bare thigh now, you look down at it, all tattooed, veiny, huge… making your tummy flip. “Maybe I wanted to be more than that.”
“Yeah?” Your voice is a breathy whisper, you half wonder if you’re in some dream, Sukuna being nice to you!? Being so close after so long?
“Yeah. So another drink, another story?”
“Hmm, do I get another kiss if I listen?” You tease, feeling the liquor make you bold, warming your insides. Sukuna’s lips quirk up on one side, his breath tickling your neck when he leans close, lips almost brushing against it. You feel your pulse flutter when his plump lips touch the shell of your ear just barely, like a fire igniting inside you, more than any liquor could produce.
“I’ll not just kiss you everywhere, I’ll fucking bite you everywhere, lick you all over, every…” His lips kiss your jaw line. “Pretty.” Your neck. “Inch.” He’s right behind your ear, that sensitive spot, kissing and nipping just so, you bite back a cry and fail, earning his chuckle. “You’re so easy f’me, huh brat?”
“Oh f-fuck you…” Your grumble makes him laugh, the sound tickling you as hiegrips your chin, tilting it up to look at him. “You’re the worst.”
“I know, I have been, for all these years. Ya ready for the next story? Then I promise…” He’s trailing his fingers down your thigh now, making your knees literally knock together, tummy clenching with an insane need you’ve only felt once, back on the last day you all really talked to each other. “Then we can head out of here.”
“Better be good, if it’s boring I’ll leave.” Your half hearted promise just makes him throw his head back in laughter, as he orders two more drinks, loosening his tie just a bit, making your thoughts haywire. “Where to, then? What trip down memory lane of bully Sukuna?”
Sukuna tenses just a bit, the things that he’s held in so long threatening to spill. “Middle school… more specifically, seventh grade, Yuuji’s party?”
It’s your turn to tense, at the brutal memory, so long ago. “Oh…”
*****
The second time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, 7th/8th grade (Kuna age 14, Y/N age 13)
 You were boogie skating with these fancy rainbow skates you saved all your allowance for, as all your friends were gathered around, some over at concessions, some at the arcade, some skating alongside you. But Sukuna? He was leaning on the edge of the brightly colored wall, watching no one but you, he could pick you out of anywhere, really.
You were so good at skating too, legs crisscrossing to the beat, your friends and his all murmuring about how good you are at it. You’re giggling as you whisper something to your friend Nobara, her and Yuuji were all best friends, along with Megumi, who was sipping on a coke next to Sukuna and Yuuji.
“She’s really good, isn’t she?” Megumi says, and Sukuna scoffs, shrugging.
“I guess.”
“She’s insane at it, she teaches kids and everything.” Yuuji says.
“You got it so bad for her.” Megumi teases, and then Sukuna tenses a bit, looking at you again, then at his brother, who is blushing.
“Nah, she’s just my friend. She’s so pretty though.”
You and Nobara are hopping off the floor, and Nobara looks right at Sukuna then, blinking her brown eyes and narrowing them. Sukuna wonders at just what you’re telling her, as you nervously bite your lower lip, then you’re waving your arms wildly as Nobara skates over to the three of them, and you tentatively follow, color decorating your cheeks under neon lights.
“Hey, Sukuna.” Nobara says, and he leans back on the wall.
“Yeah, what is it?”
She comes closer then, leaning a little too close. “Do you like her?” She says your name then, and Sukuna glares, stuttering, Megumi and Yuuji snicker in laughter behind him when you approach.
“What kind of question is that?” He says, and Nobara glares now.
“It’s just a question, okay? You can’t keep your eyes off her.” She smirks, and you cover your face in embarrassment.
“Ignore her, please.” You mumble, wanting to fall into a hole then and there, as the loud music blares around the rink.
“Everyone says you have a crush.” Nobara continues.
“You do stare at her all the time…” Megumi says, Sukuna turns away then, crossing his arms, feeling so embarrassed he can’t think.
“You don’t have to answer, Sukuna, it’s okay…” You touch his shoulder then, and just a touch from you ruins his middle school brain, when he looks down at your cute little face. “I figured you didn’t, she just…”
“I don’t, not at all.” He says the words so sharply you yank your hand back like it was burned, eyes wide on him now.
“Okay.” You manage, and Sukuna hates how your face falls then.
“You’re such a jerk! Why do you have to say things like that!?” Yuuji says, and he scoffs.
“Always coming to her defense, aren’t you the one with the crush?”
“He’s my friend, Sukuna.” You say, as Yuuji scowls at his older brother.
“Yeah well, I wouldn’t ask you out if you were the last girl in school.” Your face falls now, and everyone gasps, as there were more kids from your class gathering around. Sukuna falters then, but you cross your arms, scowling.
“Good, because I would never say yes! You’re the last boy in the world I’d ever go out with!” You shout it practically, people are all whispering as you skate off then, fury raging through your veins, and Sukuna stands there, as everyone looks at him with confusion.
“What’s your problem!? She really likes you, you’re so stupid!” Nobara hisses, chasing after you now, and Megumi and Yuuji shake their heads, leaving Sukuna to skate off towards the lockers, hastily taking them off as his mind whirls with what he’s just done to you.
You’ve done nothing but be as nice as you can to him since he’s Yuuji’s brother, but that’s the only reason he thinks you’ve tolerated him at all. He picks on you constantly, he tugs at your hair, he’s even snipped a part of it off in elementary school, he may or may not have kept it.
He throws paper balls at you, he tugs at your shirt and makes fun of you, and even through all of it you’ve not done more than scowl, roll your eyes, tell him off. But Sukuna has it bad for you, in fact he thinks he’s in love with you, but he just becomes more of an idiot as you all are getting older. You affect him more and more as you become prettier and prettier.
He watches the way the light hits your face in class and stares dreamily before you’ll catch him, and he’ll scowl instead. He’s an idiot.
And now he knows he hurt you.
As he’s outside, about to walk home, you’re standing against the wall, covering your face, in tears, when you see him, turning away quickly. Sukuna pauses then, his heart breaking, knowing he’s embarrassed you, but he doesn’t know what to say. He walks up, earning your glare, though your eyes are puffy, and your nose is all red from rubbing it.
“I… I…” He trails off, and you shake your head.
“If your goal is to embarrass me, you succeeded. I should have never told her I liked you…”
Sukuna sputters, mouth opening and closing. “You what!?”
“I don’t anymore, don’t worry.” You rub at your eyes now, sobs catching in your throat when you look up into ruby red eyes, eyes that apparently hate you, but you see something different, something softer.
“Why would you like me?” He asks then, and you want to laugh.
“How would I know? You’re a mean jerk, always have been. Maybe I needed you to be mean like that, to really knock that idiot idea out of my head.” Sukuna feels himself breaking inside now, two hands coming to your shoulders, making you gasp as you tilt your head back to look at him.
He’s already taller than anyone, and the more he grows up the cuter he is, the worse your crush gets. The more you hang out at Yuuji’s house, the more you see him, the more you fall, shit the meaner he is the more you fall. You can’t even find it in you to stay mad at him, when he makes your heart race, when you’re drawing doodles of him and you in your notebook.
You asked Nobara not to say anything, but she was so sure that he liked you back, though you knew he didn’t, you knew he hated you. He has since he met you, and you don’t know what you did.
“Listen, I shouldn’t have… I shouldn’t have done that. I didn’t mean it.” You scoff, shoving at him, his hands fall.
“You don’t need to feel sorry for me. I’ll be fine. I’ve had worse.”
Sukuna blinks back his own emotion, gulping. “I didn’t mean it.”
“Then why’d you say it?” You look up at him, when your eyes look at him like that he hates himself so much, knowing he’s just lying to you, to himself.
“I just… everyone was…”
“You care so much what people think, despite acting like you don’t.” Sukuna scowls at you now. “Embarrassed to like me?”
“What!? Why the fuck would it be embarrassing to like you?”
“You tell me. Not pretty enough? Not popular enough? I see who you hang out with. Just forget it, I promise I’ll never say I like you again.” You peek at your phone now, sliding it up, but Sukuna cups your face, leaning close, your eyes dart to his lips, thinking for some insane moment he’d be your first kiss.
No way though.
“You’re pretty, okay? Very pretty.” You pause then, mouth open in a gasp, and Sukuna laughs without humor. “How can you think you’re not?”
“I… um… you…”
“I didn’t mean it.” He steps closer, thumb brushing a tear away from your cheek. “I’m sorry I… made you cry.”
“You always make me cry.” You whisper, and he gulps now.
“Yeah, I do. But this time… I’m really sorry.”
You sigh then, hand touching his wrist, making his own pulse race, as he thinks wildly of kissing you, of something he’s dreamed of since he first found out what it was. “You don’t have to apologize for not liking me back.”
“I-”
“But for saying it like that? Yeah it was mean.”
“Listen…”
“Thank you for apologizing.” You smile sadly, backing off when you see your mom’s car pull up, and Sukuna is left dumbfounded. “Don’t worry, I swear I won’t say it again, I won’t even… think it again.”
You know you’re lying.
Sukuna says nothing as you get in your mom’s car, and she’s asking if you’re okay, he watches her hug you for a moment before she begins to drive, and he sees your eyes full of tears again, streaking down your face. Yuuji walks out front then, nudging him as he watches his brother’s eyes glimmer with what looks like tears.
“Why’d you do it?” Yuuji asks, and Sukuna sighs.
“I don’t know.” He admits, Yuuji puts a hand on his back then.
“You’re a big idiot.”
“Excuse me!?”
“You are.”
He was.
*****
Suddenly all that embarrassment floods you, you tense at the memories, hating how vivid they are, after all these years. You nervously look away, downing the rest of your nearly empty drink in one gulp. Sukuna is quiet then, and you wonder just what his angle is, is he here to embarrass you again? Is this some long term bully shit? Is that an apology tour?
“Are you in therapy and making rounds?” You ask softly, voice breaking, and then you feel his hand wrap the back of your neck, resting his head against yours, making you ache for him.
“I don’t feel bad for shit I’ve done, ever, except what I’ve done to you.” You look at him, he’s too close, far too close. He sees your emotions mirroring his own, and it breaks him. “I should have never fucking done it.”
“Sukuna, we were in middle school. It’s fine.”
“It’s not though, because it was such a blatant lie. God how did you not know how bad I was down for you?” You suck in a breath, shaking your head quickly, and hopping off the barstool.
“You’re lying! What even is this shit.” Sukuna pulls you between his thighs, brushing your hair back behind your ear as you tremble. “Sukuna…”
“I am not lying, but I was then, an idiot kid who was mean as shit to you.”
“Why were you so mean?”
“I’m trying to get there. Can you keep listening?” You shake your head, sniffling. Now, it’s just like being back there, back on that day where you were so embarrassed you could hardly face anyone.
“I can’t handle this shit… it’s things I’ve shoved so far back…”
“I know.” Sukuna’s strong thighs are under your tiny little hands, pressing against his muscles under the expensive fabric, as everything fades in the world but him, but the longing that’s eating you both up from the inside. Your breaths come quicker when he looks at you, that intense way, with his arrogant smirk finally not on his face, just once.
“Why do you wanna do this, rehash it?” You ask now, leaning even closer, until you’re right against his body, and he’s bending low.
“I need to tell you some important shit, I just need you to listen. Do I need to reward your bratty ass for some patience?” There’s that smirk.
“Maybe, I offered to hook up, not go through yearbooks.”
“Fine, so let’s get out of here, let you get some air, and we’ll continue. I’ll… take care of you, hmm?”
“Yeah, think you could?” He snorts, rolling his ruby eyes, hopping down, towering right over you, taking over your every sense.
“You ask dumb fucking questions, I think that’s the one thing you know I could do…” He leans right down, cupping your face. “Ruin you for anyone.”
“Big talk.” You’re so full of shit, your body is on fire, your heart is pounding out of your chest, the clothes feel too tight, everything swirls around you.
“You know it’s not.” Sukuna pays for the tab then, walking you out, the cool night air hits you, making you shiver, so he wraps a jacket around your shoulders, shocking you. “You think I’m that much of a dick?”
“Yes.” He laughs then, that booming laugh that makes him throw his head back, as you snuggle against his jacket, inhaling the expensive scent of musky cologne. “You have nice taste though.”
“Bet you do too. A nice taste.” He pulls you against his hard chest, feeling your soft breasts press against him, making his cock hard just from that. “Wanna know how badly I’ve wanted to?”
“T-taste me?” You whisper, all bravado and teasing gone, the breeze gently blowing your hair around as you wait for his driver.
“Fuck yes. Should I right here, brat?” He slips his hand under the lapels of the jacket, slipping over your dress and slipping it up, as people walk in and out of the busy little dive bar. You feel yourself so wet you’ve made a werspot in your panties, panties his thumb finds slowly.
“Right h-here?” You whisper nervously, when his driver pulls up in a whole fucking limo, you blink in surprise at it, as his hands fall.
“You’d let me, so desperate.” You glare again, making him grin. “I love when you scowl at me.”
“Are you feeling okay!? And a limo, pretentious.” You eagerly slide in with his help though, seeing everything one could dream of, as he leans over, pulling out a bottle of champagne, raising a brow, the slits in it just making him sexier, damn him. “You just ride in a limo?”
“Why not? I have these long legs, and I like to be comfortable.”
“Psh…” He pours you a glass of champagne then, and you eye a little white baggie curiously, along with a bag of weed. “Damn you partying everywhere?”
“On occasion, usually this shit is for clients though.” You giggle a bit, sipping the champagne. “I would never offer coke, but you smoke?”
“No, not really. I did once and it made me so stupid.”
“Fair enough.” He closes up the little open box, arm over you casually, kissing his way up your neck carefully, enjoying your sighs of pleasure. “Do you want a reward for listening to two stories?”
“Hmm, what do I get? A gold star?” He smirks, shaking his head and kissing you, the tart of the champagne swapping between your tongues, the kiss is slow, sensual, before it builds, and he’s setting down your glasses. He’s got you on his lap so quickly your head spins, and you’re grinding on his length, gasping in pleasure, your head falling back.
“Holy… f-fuck…” He huffs, all bravado gone when he feels your slick warmth through the layer of his dress pants. “You’re that hot?”
“Am I?” You can’t think, not when you feel his length pressed, making you whimper, which he chuckles at, nipping your collarbone between his teeth.
“That little whine? Fuck… pathetic.”
“I hate you.” You grumble then, shoving at him, but he holds you by your hips, pressing you against him harder. “Let me go, ass.”
“I like you pathetic, sweet, whiny. Sexy as fuck.” You are dragged back down for a kiss, your teeth clicking with the intensity, as you roll your hips more and more, and he slips those hands up, the veins popping out when he grabs you bruisingly. “Everything about you is made to drive me insane.”
“You’re saying insane shit, Sukuna. Is this a booty call, a hate fuck… or…” You pause, gasping as he thumbs your clit over your panties, pressing against the damp fabric, making you whimper again, eyes rolling back.
“Ya think that’s all I want? No, brat, the reason I didn’t do shit… is because… I know I’ll never be able to fuckin’ stop.” You’re flipped under him, back pressing against the seat, as he hovers over you. You yank his tie down, slamming his lips against yours, hungry lips that drink every moan you have when his hand slips between your thighs, yanking your thong to the side.
“Kuna…” He groans, slipping fingers up and down your slit, you’re trembling now, breaths quicker and quicker.
“Need something, brat?” Your brows lower, you have an insult on the tip of your tongue when his finger tip presses your tight entrance, and then Sukuna loses it, shoving his finger all the way in, moaning. “You’re this fuckin tight?”
“Ngh…” You can’t manage an answer, not when he’s crooking his finger just so, pressing that little spot inside you, finding it better than any boyfriend could just the first time, and your walls are gripping his thick digit, while your hand still clutches his tie.
“There it is, ha- feel her, fuck.” Sukuna is simultaneously in control and losing control as he plays you, curling his fingers in syrupy wetness, making you fall apart under him, hips bucking when his thumb presses your clit again. “Like both, that pussy so slutty f’me?”
“S-slutty…” Your brain short circuits, when he slips in two, stretching you out, your dress scrunched up over your hips, he hovers over you, watching every expression on your pretty face avidly.
“That’s it… let go, huh? Make a fucking mess.” You’re panting, you’ve never cum from just fingers like this, not when he’s building that tension, pressing two up and rubbing your clit, until you’re reaching higher and higher. “Feel it, feel her, she wants to cum, just let her, huh?”
“F-fuck!” You scream out then, kissing him deeply, desperately, as he makes your pussy convulse around him, orgasm washing through you in waves, until you’re weak and boneless under him, twitching cunt gripping his fingers, so slick you hear it.
“That’s it, there you go.” He rubs his fingers up and down your slit now, easing up, sucking your juices off his fingers, cheeks hollowing. You gulp at the sight, of the sexiest fucking thing you’ve seen, his eyes rolling back in his skull. “Can’t wait to bury my face, eat you so good you pass the fuck out.”
“Wh-what? You…” You can’t function, from fingers, when he kisses you again, slower, letting you taste yourself.
“Can’t wait to make you stupid. Fuck your brains out. Be nothing but me, brat, yeah?” His husky voice, his tight grip, his brutal kisses destroy you, they’re not the kiss you shared last time, not even close, he’s letting go, he’s ending you.
“K-Kuna…” He exhales now, easing off you as he helps you up, your coat having fallen onto the seats, leaving him to caress your bare arms gently.
“Feel better, brat? So needy.” You smack at him, only making him laugh just a bit. “Wanna know what I should’ve told you then?”
“Shit… forgot all of that.” You blink rapidly, disoriented.
“Cock drunk off fingers? So easy.”
“You know, drop me off-”
“Hush, brat.” He yanks you up, sitting you right on his lap, but this time sideways, sipping his drink and then holding the glass to your lips, you sip greedily, sighing and finding your arms wrapping around his neck, as he pulls you even closer against him, burying his face against your neck.
“What did you need to tell me then, Kuna?” You whisper, getting weaker by the moment, the orgasm destroying you, and making you wonder…
What would his dick be like?
His mouth?
If his fingers casually do that?
“I should have told you…” He exhales, pulling you close, burying his face in the crook of your neck and inhaling your scent greedily. “That I did have that crush, fuck way more than that, you were all I could think of. You still are.”
You still now, pulling back a bit, as your eyes lock in the led lit limo, your breaths mingling as they come quicker and quicker. “Y-you liked me?”
He shakes his head. “That wasn’t even the word. There’s a stronger word… one that terrified me then. I was a little ass, a shithead.”
“Yeah you were.”
He glares, pinching your hip then, making you yelp. “Can’t wait to occupy that bratty fucking mouth.”
“Oh yeah? Gonna shut me up?” You whisper, earning his cock leaking precum now, god only you could have this effect on him.
“I’ll shut you up, have your voice hoarse, shove my cock so deep.” You whimper, shifting, and he kisses you again, brutal and rough, teeth almost making your lower lip bleed, his grip on your hips pressing so deep you can’t breathe. “Hoarse from screaming, from my cock stretching your throat, so fucked out you won’t be able to sit or walk.”
“This is a lot of talk, Kuna. How many more fucking stories before you back it up, hmm?” You demand, voice breathy, he smiles then.
“Three.”
“Oh come on!”
“Shut it, brat. You ain’t gonna die, ain’t had my dick this long.”
“Well hurry your mean bully stories up.” You earn a gentle smack on your cheek, only making you whine out, as you smack him back, making him die for you, kissing you again before he remembers.
He needs to tell you it all.
“Make 'em quick, dammit.”
“Slutty brat.” He earns another smack, grinning, white teeth glinting. “Fine, fine… how about that time we kissed in high school?”
You heat up then. “Oh…”
*****
The third time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, junior/sophomore year of HS- (Kuna age 17, Y/N age 16)
By this time, Sukuna already had a reputation, he was the bad boy, always in and out of trouble. He rode a ridiculous motorcycle around, and he always had the new flavor of his month on the back of it. You barely even knew a girl who hadn’t made out with Sukuna… or probably more, but you were not one to care.
Sukuna and you went from enemies to nothing. He quit picking on you, and in some fucked, weird way you missed it, any of his attention. Walking through the halls and seeing him with his arm around a new girl all the time filled you with some odd sensation you didn’t wanna think of.
It’s a party over at Gojo’s house tonight, his parties were kind of ridiculous because of just how rich he was, and he damn near lived all alone. There was an insane amount of people there, as you navigated the party with a red solo cup in your hands, so nervously, Yuuji came bouncing over to you waving with his happy little grin on his face.
“Hey!” He shouts your name, Megumi follows in tow, smiling just a bit, a mere quirk of the corner of his lips.
“Hey Yuuji, Megumi. Where’s Nobara?”
“She’s over there, about to play… suck and blow.” Yuuji snickers now, you giggle at him and roll your eyes, looking over as people are sucking on a debit card, passing it in a circle, you see Gojo there, kissing a girl then, making you blush a bit as they really go at it.
“Oh… that game sounds…”
“Germ ridden.” Megumi declares with a shiver, you snort in laughter then.
“Yes, germ ridden.” You agree, then your heart stops as Sukuna is right in the mix, he’s towering over everyone but Gojo, as he passes the card to and from the girls on either side of him. For some reason, every time you see him you get this feeling, it’s not butterflies, it’s vicious moths, aggressive and beating you. 
Yes, moths you think. Sukuna didn’t give butterflies.
He smirks at you like he just knows something all the time, and nothing could be more irritating. Seeing you now, Gojo shouts your name, waving you three over to the game, the table in front of them was littered with shot glasses and fallen empty cups. “Hey sweets!”
“Satoru, hey!” He gives you a big hug.
“Mwah!” You giggle as he kisses your forehead, Satoru Gojo is a touchy feely friend to damn near everyone, including Sukuna. “Thanks for coming, I know it’s not your scene.”
“I totally snuck out for this, it better be good.” You tease, and Satoru wiggles his brows, brushing back silky white hair, as Sukuna scowls at the gesture. He hated just how touchy he was with the girl Sukuna so secretly pined for.
But you certainly didn’t know he did, in fact Sukuna kept it such a good secret you thought he straight up hated you. Although the picking on you eased up some as you all got older, you’re just getting prettier, sweeter, smarter. You don’t hang out as much with Yuuji, and Sukuna misses you there. He has one class with you and he thinks he’s maybe said a handful of things to you this year.
“You can stand right… here.” Satoru moves another girl over between Yuuji and Megumi, and puts you smack dab between him and Sukuna, making you tense up as you look at him.
“Hah, why her?” Sukuna says then, your fists clench at your sides, Satoru lets out a little laugh.
“Prefer me next to you, baby boy?” He blows a kiss at Sukuna, and he grimaces, earning the laughter of everyone around, except you, feeling just how much Sukuna still can’t stand your presence, for whatever reason.
“God no, okay fine.”
“Yes, I know it's so terrible, huh?” You mumble, Satoru hands you the card then with a smirk.
“No way, you’re the best partner. Get started missy.” You suck on it then, pressing it between your lips and Satoru’s, as each of you passed the card. Along the way it falls across from you, and two people have to make out, everyone else has a drink. You cough just a bit at the burn of this god awful punch you’re sipping then, and Sukuna gives you that sardonic ass look.
“Can’t handle a drink, brat?”
“No, I never have…” He blinks a bit then.
“Oh, shit… why-”
“Pay attention, Sukuna.” Gojo calls, and he turns then, sucking on the card, then bending low, one hand brushing your shoulder as he blows the card on your lips, then you turn and go to blow the card onto Gojo’s as the card clatters to the table.
‘Ooooh’ everyone’s whispering and giggling as Satoru bends low, tilting your chin up to look up into his pretty blue eyes, Sukuna’s fury grows with every second, as he’s never seen you with anyone, thank god.
He could almost pretend you were his, that he didn’t get in his own way, that he doesn’t long after you for every moment of every day until this very moment. When Satoru leans down and kisses you, he feels it like a punch to the gut, something nauseating, seeing his hands on you.
His lips on yours.
Sukuna is downing a shot and having to look away when Satoru’s hand entangles in your hair at the nape of your neck. He’s never wanted so badly till take someone the fuck out, and for what? You’re not his, you probably never would be, it’s not like he has any reason to be this upset. But…
You’re gasping as Satoru kisses you deeply, slipping his tongue in between your lips, and your tummy flutters as he does. Satoru’s breath is sweet, and little does he know yet, he’s your first kiss, then and there in front of countless people. He pulls back with a little smile, his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, as you try to gather yourself, he leans in against your ear.
“You’re a good kisser, sweets.” You smile a bit, laughing breathlessly.
“My first.”
“No way!?” He pulls back and blinks a bit, eyes looking at the huge, furious pink haired man behind you. Satoru smirks mischievously, it’s no secret to him or any of Sukuna’s friends how bad he has it. “I’ll keep it secret.”
Satoru crosses his chest with his fingers in the sign of a cross, and you exhale in relief. “Thank you. Shots?”
“Shots!” You both down shots with everyone, and then Satoru picks up the game again, as you turn just a bit to see Sukuna glaring down at you.
“Something wrong?” You ask curiously, and he laughs then, a mocking sound, shaking his head.
“Why would shit be wrong?”
“Right, you didn’t have to kiss me.” You say with a pat on his arm, and he gulps down more of his drink, before his hand crushes the solo cup.
“Tch.” He says nothing as the card hits him again, and you almost assume it will fall, that he’ll kiss someone, but it doesn’t, not until it hits you, then the card clatters to the fucking ground, leaving you looking up at him wide eyed.
“Oooh, those two!?” Someone says, and everyone stares at you both, it’s obvious Sukuna’s a bully to you, and that you can’t stand him.
“Two kisses in one game already?” Satoru teases, you bite your lip then, looking at Sukuna’s mouth, set in a line.
“You don’t have to.” You say softly, and Sukuna snatches you up against him then, shocking you, your eyes fly to his.
“Think I’m scared, brat?” He whispers.
“I think you don’t want to.” You whisper back, and you expect it, some retort of his, but he slams his lips down on yours, taking over every sense you’ve ever had, tasting your lips and tongue as he devours you then. It’s not sweet and sensual like Satoru, it’s full of everything he’s ever felt, pouring in your lips.
Your hand slides up his arm, across a bicep, thumb brushing it when his two hands find purchase on your waist, pulling you closer. He kisses you hard and brutal, his hands tightening to a bruising touch as he practically growls into your mouth, his tongue moving against yours. You don’t even know what you’re doing, but it feels all consuming.
It’s wild and fiery, and you can feel his heart slamming in his chest, his breathing heavy as yours come in shallow pants, and it’s like everything stops around you. You can’t remember everyone is watching you, can’t be embarrassed when a hand slips up your spine, and he tilts his head to get better access to your mouth. You can’t hear any of the whispers, not with your heart pounding in your ears.
You don’t know why you’re kissing him back with such fervor, why your arms are wrapped around his neck, the boy you hate, right? The boy who’s made school awful at times, who loves to fuck with you almost every day, you think maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe it’s the thrill of it all, but as your kiss ends you know you’re wrong. Kisses don’t feel like this, do they?
He pulls back, damn near ready to tear into you here and there in front of everyone, something feral happening to him, Sukuna has already been with a couple of girls, but he never felt anything more intense than kissing you, then seeing your reddened plump lips, swollen from him. It drives his high school brain absolutely erratic, when he cups your face, looking how small you are compared to him.
He pictures lifting you and-
“Okay, okay… calm down or get a room.” Satoru teases, as Yuuji and Megumi have their jaws on the damn floor. 
Everything is spinning now, not from the alcohol but from that kiss, from the intensity of his emotions crashing into yours. You pull away, panting, and his eyes are so dark then, his pupils dilated with something you’ve never seen before. Is it… desire? Is it… curiosity? It feels like something more… something…
You blush furiously, clearing your throat when you realize you’re just standing there with your mouth open, in front of an entire party. Sukuna doesn’t stop staring at you, in fact he can’t rip his eyes off you, nor does he take his hands off you, as you tremble now, goosebumps where his touch still sits on your skin.
“I need some air… too many kisses.” You manage, before running out then, struggling to get a breath, the tiny amount of alcohol is coursing through your veins, mixing with the heat from Sukuna’s kisses.
You’re inhaling the night air greedily, looking up at the starry sky, shaking your head as you cover your overheated face. You’d kissed Satoru and Sukuna, and Satoru had been so fun, so sweet and exciting. But what the actual heck was that with Sukuna!? What was this feeling you can’t shake, you can’t cope with!?
Sukuna dies to go after you, to finish everything he started, to kiss your face, your neck, perhaps more if you were ready. He would be happy just kissing you though, nothing else, if you offered just that, because he’s never felt it. Satoru, Suguru and his other friends are all snickering at him now.
“Go after her, Romeo.” Suguru says, and Sukuna glares at him.
“What? Why?”
“C’mon man, we all saw. Looked like you’d eat her.” Satoru says.
“In more ways than one?” Suguru chimes in, earning Sukuna’s angry glare, he shakes his head then. “Oh stop this… she’s hot, why not go for it?”
“She’s the bane of my existence. A kiss doesn’t change that.”
“She’s available then?” Satoru asks teasingly, as you’re walking back up, getting a drink poured by Nobara.
“Of course she is… it was just a kiss in a game.” You hear him then, and Nobara instantly has her hand comfortingly on your back.
“Don’t pay attention, he clearly was into you.” She murmurs, Satoru eyes you both then, before looking back at Sukuna.
“So if I ask her out you’re cool with it buddy?” He teases with a big grin.
“If you what!?”
“Mmm, ask her out. If you don’t even like her that way?” Sukuna sputters now, and everyone’s whispering about him, about the kiss.
“Why ask me?” He huffs with disdain, and you quietly join back in, this time on the other side of Satoru, Sukuna notices it furiously, making a show of kissing the next girl as the card drops again.
You hate how you feel about it, about him.
As you’re dancing later with Satoru, you watch him sitting on the couch with two girls on his lap, but his eyes are laser focused on you, every motion you make with your hips in a figure eight motion. You feel his eyes like a brand on your skin, like he’s undressing you with them, but he doesn’t come near you, you’re both just across the room, with the energy between you.
The amount of times Sukuna replays this in his mind over and over, the kiss that destroyed him. But instead of telling you how he feels, he says nothing, watching as you move on, and as he pretends he is as well, but is he really? Will he ever be?
*****
You’re remembering the kiss vividly, Sukuna watches your eyes go fuzzy, as you both pull up to his place. You just sit there, nervously shiting in his lap. “Those were… my first kisses. Isn’t that insane?”
“What was insane was that I wanted to kill him for kissing you, I wanted to kill anyone who touched you, kissed you.”
“You did?” You ask softly, he nods then, smirking just a bit.
“Best kiss I had.”
“What!?”
“I should have told you. Not acted like…
“A dick?”
“That mouth, brat.” He is glaring as you giggle. “I acted like I didn’t care, but I did… and your bratty ass dated Satoru after that!?”
“Well, he was sweet and asked me out. What’d you expect me to wait for you to figure it out?”
“Yes.” You both laugh softly then, his strokes up and down your spine making you long for more and more of him, every bit of his body, his touch, his heart.
“Three stories down, why don’t I…” You trail your fingers down his dress shirt, over his rippling abdomen. “Return that favor?”
“Killing me, brat.” He exhales, and soon you’re kissing in his elevator, as you ride up to his fancy penthouse, your breath catching at it. “Ya like?”
“Damn, you’re like rich!?”
Sukuna throws his head back, sliding his jacket off you then, eyeing your skin hungrily, thinking of all the ways he wants to kiss it, bite it, taste it. “Yeah, I’m fucking rich.”
“So humble too.”
“Why should I be? Fuck that.” He then hands you a glass of water, making your eyes narrow.
“Rich as fuck and I get water!?”
“It’s Evian.”
“Psh, where’s the liquor stash?”
He brushes your hair back then, gently. “Want you fully aware for the last two stories, yeah? Then you can have another if you want.”
“Yes, dad.” You tease, then his nostrils flare, making your lips turn up as you watch his reaction. “You like to be called Daddy don’t ya, freaky Kuna?”
Sukuna’s scowl just deepens, as he crosses his arms. “Oh shut that mouth, swear to god.”
“Shut me up- mnh!” Sukuna’s grabbed you right under your chin, squeezing your throat just so, as his free hand grips your ass.
“You listen to this one, I’ll let you suck me. And the last one, I’ll finally lick that pretty pussy.” You whine when he finds your slick heat over your panties, everything going just a little fuzzy. “Fuck you in positions you’ve never heard of.”
“All talk.” He lets you go, shaking his head, kissing you deeply again, you are falling into it, into how good he feels, letting it all surround you.
“Ya know I’m not, admit it.”
“Shush.” You take your water with a shaky hand, drinking it then.
“Good girl.”
Good girl!?
You can’t handle that from him, can’t handle the heat pouring between your thighs, in your tummy, making you ache for him more and more. “This story was about a time you didn’t have water, and you were all over me.”
You draw a blank then, shaking your head. “Psh, what!?”
“Mmhmm. Come, sit down.” He guides you over to an elegant living room, with a spacious black couch, everything sleek and modern, floor to ceiling windows overlooking the night sky.
“Beautiful.” You murmur softly, touching the clear glass for just a moment, he comes up behind you, kissing across your neck.
“I’ll fuck you on this window, let everyone have a show.”
“What!?”
“Let ‘em know you’re mine this time.”
“Sukuna!” You are dragged to the couch, sat down right next to him, his arm around you.
“Sip more water. So thirsty.”
“I really hate you.”
“You say that…”
“Yeah.” He tilts your chin up with two fingers, pressing his lips over yours over and over, little sweet kisses you don’t expect. “Mmm, so… remember your first frat party?”
“Barely! Oh shit I think I got drunk.”
“Oh yeah you did.
*****
The fourth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your senior year HS, his Freshman year college (Kuna age 19, Y/N age 18)
“Y’know… S-Sukuna… fuck you’re kinda hot!?” You’re stumbling as you speak to Sukuna that night, dressed in some mini skirt and crop top, showing everything. You make him furious, showing that body that seems to get prettier every year, the top showcasing far too much of your pretty breasts, the skirt showing too much of your sexy thighs.
Thighs he’d die to have wrapped around his head.
“What now, brat?” He demands, and you giggle, clearly shitfaced, you never partied so you’re an insane lightweight. And your friend is currently making out in a corner, leaving you stumbling over to him in heels that make no sense for you, for the girl he’s known so long. “What’s with the skank fit?”
“Fuck you I’m hot.” You giggle, doing a spin, and then nearly falling, Sukuna catches you with an arm around your waist, warm body pressed against his.
“That alcohol spiking that confidence?”
“Jus’ because you don’t think- m’hot doesn’t mean… m’not k?” You toss down your drink, giggling breathlessly, looking up at him with dilated eyes.
“When have I said you’re not?” He asks softly, guiding you away from the crowd, from the eyes of too many hungry frat boys. You somehow end up on his lap, arms around his neck, giggling and scrunching that cute ass nose of yours.
“You’ve said m’pretty like once. In middle school? Thass it, Kuna.”
“God, don’t call me that, drunky.” He brushes your hair back then, and you pause, inhaling just a bit, sudden clarity in a brief drunk haze. “You’re the prettiest brat there is, yeah? You’re gonna forget this. So fuck it.”
“The prettiest brat?” You repeat, and he smiles, nodding, before hissing when you shift, straddling him.
“The fuck are you doing!?” He demands, hands pressing on your waist, while you lean your face low, breath against his lips.
“Jus- wanna kiss. Or more… always wanted you to be-”
“Shh, stop.” He puts a hand on your mouth, shaking his head. “You’re shitfaced, don’t go saying dumb shit.”
You lick at his palm, giggling again, moving your hips, he feels your heat against his cock over his jeans, making him throb then. He was no virgin, far from it, but you make him blush. You make him tremble, and he hates this effect, that you so casually have, and don’t even know you possess.
Since he met you, you’ve done things to him, things that have him jerking it to images of you, memories of you. Practicing all the ways he’d take that virginity of yours back in the day, knowing he was a fucking idiot. Thinking of how he’s stretch that surely tight little hole, how he’s make you his.
But you dated boys, he dated girls.
You lived your life in your lane, he lived his.
You both rarely crossed, aside from your friendship with his brother and mutual friends, he doesn’t think he’d see you. He barely does now, and the way you’re looking at him addles his mind, short circuits his brain chemistry. God the things he wants to do with you…
But…
“You’re trashed.”
“I’m pretty to you.” You murmur, lips far too close, he can practically taste jello shots on you.
“You are.” He figures fuck it, what’s it matter?
You won’t remember.
“You’re beautiful.” He says, finally, after so many years, and you blink rapidly, sobering up almost it seemed, lashes casting shadows on your cheeks as they lower, as you take a breath.
“You think so?” You whisper.
“I know so, fuck who doesn’t?” He holds you still when you wiggle. “Don’t fucking do that, please.”
“Don’t wanna fuck me, Kuna? Don’t you fuck whoever?”
“Fuck you…” He trails off. Fucking you isn’t what he’d do, and he damn well knows it too well.
He’d lose himself in you.
“You wanna fuck me so bad, hmm?” He asks, husky voice breaking.
“What do you think?” You grind on him, his head falls back, moaning as you kiss up his throat, making his hands grip you bruising. “Haven’t I wanted to for s’long, Kuna… wanted y’inside me…”
“Shut the fuck up.” He shoves at you again, ruby eyes narrowing as he looks at your flushed cheeks and glittery eyes. “You’re drunk.”
“So?”
“So you need to get home. Nobara.” She looks up at the shout of her name, eyes wide when she sees you, gently pulling you now.
“Come on baby.”
“No, he wants me, look at him.” You giggle again, and Nobara can’t stop the smirk on her face.
“He does, but… you’re too tired, yeah?” You look at her, then Sukuna, yawning then and nodding as she eases you up.
“Am I?”
“You are. Say goodnight, remember you can’t stand Sukuna, yeah?”
“Oh yeah.” You blink again, stumbling against your friend, Sukuna’s hand cups your face gently.
“Good night, drunk brat.” He kisses your head, shocking you even in your drunk state, before looking at Nobara. “Got a ride?”
“Yeah, we’re good. Sukuna…” She whispers then.
“Hmm?”
“Just let her go if you don’t want to be with her. She deserves more than this… pining away for you.” Sukuna gulps at Nobara’s words.
“I…”
“She’s amazing, you know.”
“Yeah, I fucking know. Trust me.” She sighs, as you snuggle to her, blissfully unaware of the conversation, just mumbling how good Nobara smells.
“She wants to go to another university, but she’ll go here to see you. Let. Her. Go.” Sukuna watches you stumble away, feeling it like a knife to his chest.
God it was difficult to let you go, but were you wasting your chances for someone like him?
*****
“I literally don’t remember it…” You murmur softly then, while Sukuna’s fingers run lazily over your shoulders, sipping more water. “I think I remember sitting on your lap but it’s a blur?”
“Yeah, it was… hard…”
You’re laughing then. “Sorry!”
“Hard in many ways, sure. To turn this down?” You heat up under his praise now, so open for you.
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Look at you.” You’re kissing him then, again, you could just keep kissing Sukuna, forever and ever you feel like. Like nothing could rip you from him, when you’re straddling his lap like that night, and he’s exhaling against your lips.
“What was the thing you should’ve said?” You whisper, rolling your hips, grinding your pussy on his shaft, he groans, kissing down the plump curve of your breast, sinking his teeth and making your head fall back.
“I did say it…” He grins, looking at the little teeth marks in your skin.
“Wh-what was it?”
“That you’re beautiful, and fuck you are.” You whimper when he yanks down your top, revealing your puffy nipples, taut and perky with want. “Oh my… fuck…”
He’s sucking one into his hot mouth now, your hands entangled in pastel locks, hips rocking for more and more, he’s dying to sink into you, and you’re dying for him to fill you. “Thank you, Kuna… and… did I say anything that…”
“You kept saying how hot I am.”
“You are, fuck you are. Sexiest man I’ve seen.”
“Damn, simp much?”
“Hate you!” You shove at him and he’s chuckling, kissing back down your breasts, sighing.
“You don’t hate me, shut it. Should we put that mouth to better fucking use?” He asks, and you nod eagerly. “You’re gonna obey that easily? Want it so bad?”
“Oh fuck you and your stories.” You slip down, one knee on one side of him, as you unzip him slowly, he hisses when his cock juts out of the jeans, of his boxers, so heavy and thick. You pause briefly, blushing when you see it, a tattoo around the base of his fucking cock, and a piercing on the tip.
“Cat got your tongue, slut?”
“Slut? You have a slutty tattoo on your slutty dick. And this? This…” You moan then, kneeling between his thighs spread, looking up at him so pretty then his heart flips in his chest, he’s as nervous if not more than he was when he was a virgin. Looking how beautiful you are, face resting on his thigh.
“Then put this slutty cock in your slutty mouth, huh?” You eagerly do as he says, taking him into your mouth slowly, teasing the piercing with your tongue, tasting his precum, salty and bitter, coating your tastebuds. “Mmgh, yeah, like that, pretty little whore.”
His words really should infuriate you, but you love it, jerking his hips up as you suck harder, faster, feeling his hands tighten in your hair, and god he’s losing his fucking mind, and it’s all because of you.
You love it, love the way he’s looking at you with lidded ruby eyes, as he fucks up into your mouth, alternating between gently cupping your cheek and shoving your throat down on his cock, all while looking at you. His eyes never leave your face, you hear his breaths, feel him tense. It’s intoxicating, feeling his cock swell and pulse in your mouth, feeling his eyes on you, watching you take him deep.
“So pretty, look at you, taking cock s’good. S’hungry for it, huh?” He’s mumbling now, trying to be so sure, so dominating of you, and he does, but he’s vulnerable, as your little fingers press against his thighs, as you’re sucking him so deeply. You breathe through your nose, feeling him get harder, impossibly harder, as you take him more and more.
Your cunt is pulsing around nothing, thinking of everything you’ve wanted, listening to him mumbling praise, watching that red streak from his cheeks to the tips of his ears. To make Sukuna blush was something so heady you couldn’t explain it, not as you keep sucking, as you slip his dress shirt up just a bit, revealing the hard, perfect planes of his abdomen.
“Fuck, you’re good at that, hmm?” He whispers, his eyes half lidded, his voice gruff and rough, so fucking sexy, and you moan around his cock, nodding. He’s so fucking big and it’s a struggle to take him all in, but you’re keep trying to, go even deeper, watching his breath hitch, his hips buck upwards. He keeps whispering your name until he yanks you off.
“Lemme suck you off, Kuna.” You plead, and he laughs insanely now, shaking his head as he looks down at you.
“Ya gotta be that good at this!? I’m mad you ever sucked anyone.” He grumbles, glaring now, you pout as he pulls you off, hands firm on your ass when he sits you back on him, and now he’s adjusting himself back in.
“Really!? Not another story, Kuna… I need to tell you my own shit.” You murmur, he puts a finger to your lips, shaking his head.
“I’m almost done, last story yeah? Then…” He rubs your cunt over your panties, so damp they’re sticking to your plump lips pathetically. “Then I’ll make her feel so fucking good, so good I promise.”
“You suck.” You say with a pout, earning another smirk as you try to catch your breath, leaning back against him. “Okay, one more, and only one.”
“You’re such a little-”
“Kuna…”
“A little… pretty ass bitchy ass-”
“Sukuna, I swear to god I’ll hit you.”
“Yeah?” He raises a brow.
“You’re a little bitch.”
“Swear to-”
“I should go.”
“You aren’t going any fucking where. C’mere.” He yanks you back down, as you huff in anger. “I’ll give her what she needs, have some patience. All fuckin night and day, just wait a little longer, huh?”
“F-fine.” You look down demurely, as Sukuna sighs, shutting his eyes.
“The last time we saw each other. Remember?”
“Shit…”
*****
The fifth time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, your Sophomore year of college, his Junior (Kuna 21, Y/N 20)
You weren’t even in the same college as Sukuna, but you still saw him, from time to time. You were close with Yuuji, Megumi and Nobara, and that meant sometimes seeing Sukuna, a girl on either side of him as he’s throwing pong balls into cups, and everyone is cheering for him.
Jock Sukuna.
Frat leader Sukuna.
Asshole hoe ass Sukuna.
You resent him, you hate it but you do, he’s popular and still somehow a huge asshole, he hasn’t changed a damn bit and people fawned over him, girls were all lining up for their turn, all except you. You’re glad you went to a different university, even if you missed your friends, it means you got to miss him being such a whore blatantly in front of the world.
He kissed one, then the other, like they’re both his girlfriends, chuckling until he catches sight of you.
You.
You make his heart race, wanting to thump right out of his fucking chest, tightening it so bad he can’t breathe for a moment. You’re in this gorgeous little dress, too fancy and pretty for some stupid ass frat party. He watches the eyes of everyone on you avidly as you smile, starting to get surrounded by his curious frat brothers, making his murder instincts kick into high gear.
When would everyone figure out you’re his? Shit, when would either of you figure it out, that this is what it was?
That he was in love with you.
That he’s been in love with you, since the first day you ran into the hall, over ten years back, when you’d had hurt in your eyes and your lower lip trembled. Loved you every minute of every day, and every day he falls deeper and deeper into being an idiot, drowning you away with cheap beer and endless annoying girls. Girls he couldn’t care less about, but they were safe bets.
They weren’t you.
Your eyes catch his across the room, sipping on your drink then, smiling up as your friends come to talk to you. Sukuna has maybe seen you three times this entire year, and he’d be lying if he said he doesn’t miss, god he misses picking on you, he misses that scowl you give him, the way you cross your arms.
He leaves the girls next to him, much to their dismay, walking up to you now, and your lips part as your drink sits just a bit down by your side, looking up at him with eyes that haunt his every fucking dream. Your body looks so good he can’t help but picture it naked in every position under him, while he says your name softly.
“Hey, Sukuna.” You manage to sound casual, while he’s shirtless, his already chiseled body buffer than you remember, tattoos already on his abdomen and wrists, ones that weren’t there before, that just make him sexier.
Fuck Sukuna.
Fuck him for being all you think about even now, when you have college, a part time job, a whole life. And you lay there, and think of him, picture him in ways that make you touch yourself, not knowing he’s jerking it in his dorm room to you, sometimes simultaneously, but of course neither of you has figured any of it out.
Clueless.
“You should… play?” He suggests, your brows draw together in confusion.
“Why are you being friendly?”
“Why shouldn’t I be?” You sigh then, shaking your head and walking away, making his jaw clench. “Excuse me?”
“You’re excused.” You stomp away, and Sukuna chases you, into a room now, shutting the door behind you, you peek around and realize you’re somehow in his room when you see the familiar things you’ve seen his whole life. His game system, his guitar… his collection of panties? “Jesus.”
“Yeah it’s a thing we do.” He clears his throat, rubbing the back of his neck, and you shake your head, turning to look up at him.
“Does it make you feel cool? Fucking the cheerleading squad?”
“Maybe it does. What do you care!?”
“I don’t.”
“Good.” He says.
“Good.” You agree, then you’re on each other, kissing each other hungrily, his hands gripping your ass, as you drink his moans.
“Why do you gotta act like this?”
“Like what, not easy?” You whisper, pulling back, and he groans, down on his knees suddenly, making you gasp, as he’s just a breath away from your hot, eager little pussy, lifting your skirt and moaning when he sees the damp spot. “What… are…”
“Lemme finally shut you the fuck up, brat.” He whispers, yanking them to the side just as the door tumbles open, you jerk back so fast as giggling girls pour in. “Don’t… get off me, fuck.” He’s shouting your name, chasing you, but you can’t get out of there fast enough.
What were you about to do!?
“Come back, fuck!” He’s yanking you by your wrist, and you scowl up at him. “Just let me… we’ll get a room, or…”
“No, thank god they came in. I’m an idiot, I have been. Down to be a notch in your stupid bedpost.”
“You’d never be-”
“Good bye Sukuna.” You leave him with watery eyes and a trembling lip, and he hates you more.
*****
You both sit there, staring at each other then, quietly, so much left unsaid over so many years, so much between you both. Your breaths make both of your chests rise and fall, while you wait with bated breath, feeling every bit of his energy consuming you, still tasting him on your lips, his pants still unzipped, your dress still tugging down your breasts just so.
“I was harsh.”
“Nah, you were real with me.”
“What did you want to say, then?” You ask quietly, and Sukuna curses, standing then, walking you back more and more until your shoulder blades hit the cool glass of his window, and you gasp, looking up at him. His gaze is hungry, it’s intense, looking right through you, seeing you. All of you.
“What I should have said, so many times… is that… I fucking love you, okay? In love with you. Stupid in love. Down bad like a little bitch.”
“What!?”
“You really couldn’t fucking tell!?”
You try to process his words, shaking your head now, tears welling up as the emotions hit you. “Like… in love?”
“Didn’t I say it, brat? Ya want some one knee shit, it’ll be eating your pussy, like I should have that night.” He murmurs, and soon he’s kissing you, hungry, desperate, hands touching every inch of you he can. “Love you, brat. Always have.”
“Sukuna…”
“Shh.” He turns you then, unzipping your dress, big hands darting across your back, your waist, your hips, turning you then to face him, leaving you in nothing but soaked panties and a lacy bra. “Should’ve told you, I love you. You’re beautiful, so beautiful you fucking wreck me.”
“Kuna…” He’s moaning again, red eyes bright as he rips your bra off, revealing your pretty breasts to his hungry gaze, cupping them, resting his forehead on yours.
“I was a fucking ass to you, a dick. A bully. A shit.”
“Kuna…”
“Shut up. You don’t have to feel the same, it can just be a fuck if you want, I’ll give you anything.” You’re whimpering, when he’s kneeling, just like that night, his breath hot against your inner thigh, when he runs calloused fingers down your soft skin, eliciting a cry. “I’ll let you fuck my face and thank you, make me so pathetic.”
“Sukuna!” You shout finally, yanking at his hair, pulling his head back to look at you, and he exhales now.
“Yeah?”
“I love you too, you idiot.” He pauses, heart slamming in his chest, and you just nod weakly, tears pouring down your cheeks. “I’ve always loved you, mean ass.”
“Fuck…” He rips your panties off.
“They’re expensive!”
“I’ll buy you all the ones you want, slutty fucking brat. Put this pretty pussy on my goddamn face, now.” He orders, lifting a thigh, swiping a stripe up your slit with the flat of his tongue, making you scream out, head falling back against the window he’s so shamelessly eating you out against. “Taste so goddamn good, fuck you.”
“F-fuck you, Kuna… just… will you… ah!” He smacks your pussy then, glaring up at you, as you manage a little pathetic scowl.
“Shut it brat, now. Lemme take my time, shit.” He’s back down there, parting your plump lips, dying at just how pretty your pussy is, how the wetness is just oozing. He sips up the syrupy wetness with the tip of his tongue, moaning at your taste, before slipping up to your clit, slowly circling.
“Mnph!” You’re barely able to make a noise, when Sukuna buries his face against you, nose bumping your little twitchy clit, tongue slipping up into your hole, as his hands squish your thighs, pinning you in place. “Ah!”
You feel that grin against you as he sips you up, drinking you, youre eyes are rolling, back, fucking toes curling as he nips your clit then with his sharp teeth, eliciting a slutty moan from your throat. “That’s it, cum all over m’face, slutty lil fuckin brat.”
You can’t even retort, you can’t function when his tongue is flicking the underside of your clit, and he’s watching you with those bright red eyes under those pastel lashes, working you so well you can barely stand. You’re gasping, gripping his hair so hard you’re pulling it, only making his cock harder for you, your eyes shut when you earn another wet smack on your cunt.
“Ah-ah,look at me when I’m eating you out, brat. I wanna see you fall apart f’me, just me, only me.” Sukuna’s possessive words and another smack earn you looking down at him, eyes locking with his. “Ha, that’s it.”
His tongue is flicking and pressing against your clit, when he curls two fingers up inside your gummy walls, cum drooling down his black painted nails, all the way to his rolex watch, cold against your heated skin as he pumps and pumps. “M’gonna… oh my g-god…”
“That’s it, cum like a pretty lil’ fuckin whore, hmm? Just f’me.” He orders, filthy words spitting from his mouth when he curls his fingers just so inside your soppy little cunt, and you shatter then as he works you like he’s always known you, sucking your little clit in his hot mouth.
“Kuna!” You scream out his name as you come, thighs trembling around his neck, eyes rolling back in your skull, panting when he fucks you with his fingers even faster, pushing you from one orgasm into another. “Too much!”
He doesn’t relent, he’s fingering and devouring you simultaneously until you’re a weak, pathetic mess, sweat making your hair stick to your brow, you’re trembling and shaking as it makes you see stars. You’re not even holding yourself up anymore, he’s got an arm around your hips, moaning against you.
“Sukuna, I l-love you.” You mumble weakly, and he chuckles, tickling your oversensive cunt.
“I know you do, baby.” He whispers back, kissing your inner thigh, licking your pussy clean of all your cum before he stands, and you’re taking off his dress shirt with shaky fingers, so shaky he smacks at them. “Can’t even function huh?”
“F-fuck off…” You can’t function, though, you can’t form a coherent thought in an already fucked out brain as he rips off that damn shirt, showing a buff, perfect body, littered in new tattoos you haven’t even seen. He’s quick to get naked, and pick you right up in his arms like you’re nothing. “H-here!?”
“Everyone already got a show.” He smirks, tip nudging your soppy entrance, you’re shivering as you cling to his shoulders, whining desperately. “Wanna give em a better show? Want everyone to see you dripping my cum?”
“Yes.” At your husky admission he grins.
“Slutty little brat. Oh my… fuck…” He can’t take it, when he starts to press inside you, and you’re screaming out at the stretch, as he feels your slick cunt grip him like a vise. “You’re s-so f-fucking…”
“Fuck me, please, please.” You beg, tears in your eyes now, and Sukuna won’t deny you shit, not when you’re begging so pretty, no he fucks into you, hard, thrusting his cock so deep his tip kisses your cervix. “Oh my god.”
“Oh my god.” He moans right with you, exhaling as he looks into your glassy, dilated eyes, so dilated all he sees are the outer rings of your irises when he sinks so deep in your eager pussy. “Ya feel like this, the whole time could’ve been putting babies in this?”
“Kuna!? The f- y-yes! Yes!” You’re screaming as he pounds his cock, so thick it’s stretching you out so hard it hurts, it burns, wearing you down with each pump, the sounds of your slutty cunt echoing in his immaculate fucking penthouse. You’re cumming before he can play with your clit, something that’s never happened, he hits so hard you don’t even need it.
When you cum, pulsing all around him he tenses, pulling then, setting you on the floor and turning you, pressing your tits against the glass as he bends down, lifting your ass up and fucking into you, your hands leaving prints on spotless glass. He’s moaning as his muscles flex, as he pumps his thick, long cock so deep, and you’re throwing your head back, screaming.
“That’s it, again baby, lemme feel your slutty fucking cunt grip me.” He huffs, leaning over the glass and fucking into you, two hands gripping your hips, thumbs pressing into the dimples of your back, as he rails you harder and harder. You’re gasping, twitching, unable to even stand, practically falling on the glass overlooking the night sky.
When Sukuna’s gotten another orgasm, he pulls out again, carrying you like you’re nothing until you’re in his bed, and he’s climbing on top of you, so intimate in this moment, cock drooling with your drippy wetness. He’s entwining a hand with yours, the other grabbing his cock, putting it back inside, your already sore little hole, and you gasp, clinging to him.
“S’good… s’good I…” You can’t form a word, when he’s pressing your thighs up higher and higher, watching the bulge in your tummy at his huge cock wrecking you, making him harder, his precum pouring, cock twitching.
“That’s it, cunt screamin’ just f’me, fuckin’ hear it huh?” Sukuna whispers, eyes and face practically feral, fucking you harder, deeper, as he presses your thighs until you’re folded in half under him. “Answer me, huh? Too fucked out?”
“F-fuck… y-you… K-Kuna you- yes!” You’re whimpering out when he pounds his cock even deeper, and you hear it, the squelching wetness of your soaking cunt, the slap of his balls on your ass, as his face drips sweat right down onto your own, and you’re crying it feels so good.
“Crying sexy!? Is anything ya do not sexy… slutty brat… swear I’ll ruin you for fuckin anyone, yeah?” You just nod weakly, sniffling when Sukuna cups your face between his huge hands, pounding deeper and deeper in your hole, and he’s finally slowing, laughing. “Milking me?”
“Whass that… Kuna…” Your words are jumbled as the man you’ve loved forever beats your poor little cunt up, as he fucks velvety walls until they’re aching, rubbing your walls so good, hitting just that fucking spot, over and over, ridge of that drooly tip sending you.
“That’s it, can’t help yourself, can you? So pathetic, c-can’t stop cummin…” He’s huffing now, leaning over you, so big and strong you feel so damn tiny under him, his power, the way he moves, the way he fucks you like he owns your pussy.
“Ngh…” You can’t speak anymore, it’s all sounds, whines, whimpers.
“Gonna fill this pussy up, gonna be dripping me for days huh? Want me to, don’t ya brat?” He holds your thighs up so high you could hardly breathe, as he works your cunt harder, grinding against you when his tip bruises your cervix. “Answer me, now, use those words.”
“Fill me, please.” You whisper, and he moans, smirking then, leaning so that his lips are a breath away.
“Want me to breed that slutty pussy?”
“Yes.” Sukuna folds then, busting so deep in your cunt, filling you to the brim with his endless spurts of hot cum, until you can’t stand it, so hot and full, you feel Sukuna fucking everywhere. He’s still pumping now, kissing you, moaning his pleasure as your thighs shake against him.
“That’s it, taking it so good aren’t ya baby? Cunt so eager. Slutty.” You just nod weakly, and he laughs. “That's how I shut you up? Could have been doing it.”
“You love my mouth.” You counter, earning his chuckle, when he finally eases your thighs down, kissing you just a bit softer, your nails that have been pressing and leaving marks on his back relaxes now, as you both breathe together, slower and slower.
“I do love it.”
“You love me.”
“Don’t get too annoying about it.” You giggle, and he adores the way your nose scrunches. “Fucking cute.”
“Yeah?” He nods, finally admitting it, what’s been in his heart so long he doesn’t know how he handled it, the lightness he feels of you knowing is so amazing he can’t put it in words.
“Yeah.” Is all he says for now, kissing you again. Soon he’s in the shower with you, ‘cleaning’ you, as he’s drinking your pussy right up on his knees, as the hot spray falls down.
Then, Sukuna is fucking you right on his shower wall, and you’re clinging to him desperately, as his cock works you in ways you could have never known. “Gonna forget anything, anyone, just me, brat.” He huffs in your ear.
Later, it’s no longer Valentine’s day, shit it’s maybe three am? But Sukuna isn’t done with your pussy, no he’s far from it, having you on your hands and knees on his bed as he fucks you, slapping your ass over and over, leaving hand prints. Then he’s prone bone over you, wrapping long fingers around your throat, squeezing as you gasp and cum all over his cock.
“Put a fuckin baby in ya, huh? Want that, don’t ya?” He’s huffing that morning, not like either of you have slept, and he’s laying behind you, you were supposed to cuddle but Sukuna has catching up to do with you, so he’s cradling you, fucking you with your one leg up over his thigh.
“Want it… want it…” You’re throwing your head back, while he’s fucking one load of cum out and pumping more into you, until you’re a sobbing mess, and Sukuna could still go, but you’re passing out, weak and snuggling him.
“You’re so… beautiful.” He whispers as you snore lightly, before rolling his eyes. “And annoying.”
“Hmm.” You mumble, when he shoves at you, and your eyes adjust to the man you’ve always loved, smiling just a little soft for a moment. “You love me.”
“Shut it brat. Stop snoring or I’ll kick you out.” You just giggle, kissing him.
“Shh. Love you Kuna.” You murmur, falling asleep on his chest, feeling for the first time in forever like the puzzle pieces have fallen together, and Sukuna watches you until his heavy eyes knock him out with you, snoring even louder than you. When you wake to him eating your pussy, all puffy and sore, you wonder just what you’re in for.
“Taste us, fuck.” He drinks you up, leaning over, spitting in your mouth then, you gasp at it, at his insane grin. “Taste s’yummy, huh?”
“How about g’morning, hmm?” You manage, coughing just a bit, and he’s nudging his broad shoulders back between your thighs.
“Nah, fuck that.” He buries his face against your pussy, your hands entangling in his messy locks, back arching.
“Please.” You whisper, soon he’s working over you, hand wrapping your throat, as he shoves that thick cock in your sore little pussy over and over, until you’re both losing the day in each other.
And that was the last time Sukuna tried to confess his feelings, but this time it worked, and you felt the same the entire time
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jxwl4k · 17 days ago
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.𖥔 ݁ ˖ baby fever .𖥔 ݁ ˖
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☘︎ . . . genre. fluff
☘︎ . . . pairings. bakugou x fem!reader
⤿ after babysitting eri, bakugou develops unexpected baby fever, leading to sweet and heartfelt moments with yn as he imagines future with her.
⋆˚✿˖° j speaking . . .
- I got inspired by @sweeturavity story that is also called baby fever. I hope you don’t mind, I can take it down if you want to!
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It wasn’t something Bakugou ever expected to feel. The mighty future Number One Hero, Katsuki Bakugou, did not get distracted by the thought of tiny humans with chubby cheeks and big eyes. Or so he told himself.
But lately, it had been hard to ignore.
It all started when he babysat Eri for an afternoon while Aizawa had an emergency. Bakugou was initially hesitant—kids were loud, sticky, and unpredictable. But when Eri reached out her small hand to hold his and gave him a shy smile, something in his chest did a funny flip. She had fallen asleep on his lap while watching cartoons, and Bakugou couldn’t stop staring at her peaceful face.
From then on, Bakugou started noticing babies and kids everywhere. During a trip to the mall with his friends, a toddler waddling around in a dinosaur onesie caught his eye. At a park nearby, a dad was teaching his little boy how to kick a ball, and Bakugou found himself watching longer than necessary.
He was annoyed with himself. He was Katsuki Bakugou. He didn’t have time to think about babies. But the thought of a tiny hand gripping his finger wouldn’t leave his head.
And then there was YN.
YN had always been the calm to his storm, the quiet presence that softened his sharp edges. She had a way of making him feel seen, understood, even when he didn’t say much. They weren’t officially a couple—yet. But Bakugou was sure she felt the same way he did.
Today, Bakugou found himself sitting on the couch in the dorm common area, scrolling through his phone. He wasn’t looking at training videos or hero interviews. No, he was watching videos of babies giggling at their parents’ silly antics.
“You okay, Katsuki?”
He nearly dropped his phone at the sound of YN’s voice. She was standing behind him, her head tilted in curiosity.
“Tch. What do you want?” he muttered, locking his phone quickly.
YN walked around the couch and sat beside him, her soft smile disarming him as always. “You’ve been acting weird lately,” she said, resting her chin on her hand. “Are you sure everything’s fine?”
“I’m fine,” he snapped, but the blush creeping up his neck betrayed him.
Her gaze drifted to his phone, which was still unlocked on the home screen. “Were you watching baby videos?”
Bakugou froze. “No!” he barked, his face going red.
YN’s laugh was light and sweet. “It’s okay, you know. Babies are adorable.”
“I wasn’t—ugh, fine!” he groaned, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, okay? Ever since I babysat Eri, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“About what?” YN asked gently.
“About… having a kid. Someday,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. He refused to meet her eyes, staring instead at the coffee table. “It’s stupid, isn’t it? I’m too busy trying to be a hero to think about crap like that.”
YN’s heart softened at his vulnerable confession. She placed a hand on his arm, and he finally looked at her. “It’s not stupid,” she said softly. “It just shows you have a big heart. You’d make a great dad one day, Katsuki.”
He blinked, startled by her words. “You think so?”
She nodded. “You’re tough, but you care deeply. You’re protective and hardworking. Any kid would be lucky to have you as their parent.”
For the first time, Bakugou felt a weight lift off his chest. He allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. “You’d make a pretty great mom too, you know.”
YN’s cheeks turned pink, and she looked away, flustered. “Oh, um… thanks.”
Bakugou smirked at her reaction, feeling a rare sense of peace. Maybe one day, when they were both ready, they could tackle the adventure of parenthood together.
For now, he was content knowing he wasn’t alone in his thoughts—and that maybe, just maybe, his future wasn’t so far out of reach after all.
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enigmaticsal · 1 year ago
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shin hyeok gave yeon jun the ring at the airport after telling him that this is my choice to board that plane HE GAVE HIMSELF HOPE THAT THEY WILL BE ABLE TO CHANGE THEIR FATE THROUGH THEIR OWN CHOICES AND WILL I AM SCREECHING
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kateschi · 2 months ago
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in the stillness
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synopsis: after an injury leaves you in the hospital, your husband stays by your side and watches over you, silent for a moment.
pairing: timeskip!bakugou katsuki x f!reader
⊹ ࣪ ˖ notes: him saying 'my wife' does things to me tbh
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the steady beeping of machines fills the quiet hospital room, but katsuki can’t hear anything except the pounding of his own heart.
his eyes stay locked on you, lying still in the bed, wrapped in bandages that make his gut twist every time he looks at them.
he’s sitting beside you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, jaw clenched like he’s fighting back the urge to scream.
there’s a storm brewing behind his red eyes, and you can feel it—see it in the way his shoulders are tense, in how his leg hasn’t stopped bouncing since he got here.
“you can go home, y’know,” you murmur with a weak smile. “you don’t have to stay.”
his eyes snap to yours, his scowl deepening. “absolutely not,” he growls. “I’m not goin’ anywhere. you think I’m leavin’ you like this?”
you chuckle softly, even though it hurts a little to laugh. “I’m fine, katsuki. it’s just a few bruises. you’ve seen worse.”
“doesn’t matter,” he snaps, but there’s a roughness in his voice, something he’s trying to bury beneath the anger. “it doesn’t mean I’m leavin’. I should've been there faster. you wouldn’t be in this damn bed if I had been.”
you frown at his words, knowing exactly where his mind is going. “katsuki, it wasn’t your fault. I’m a hero too, remember? I know the risks.”
he scoffs, looking away from you, his hands tightening into fists on his knees. “don’t give me that crap. I’m supposed to have your back, and I didn’t. I was too slow.”
his voice wavers for a split second, and you see the guilt eating him alive.
“hey,” you say softly, reaching out to grab his hand. he flinches at the contact, not because he doesn’t want it, but because it’s you—hurt, reaching out to comfort him when it should be the other way around.
“I’m fine, katsuki,” you repeat, squeezing his hand gently. “you got there. that’s what matters.”
his gaze locks onto yours, fierce and frustrated. “no, what matters is that you wouldn’t be here if I’d been quicker. I shoulda seen it comin’. should've—”
you shake your head, cutting him off. “stop. you’re beating yourself up over something you couldn’t control.”
“that’s bullshit,” he snaps, standing up abruptly, pacing in the small space between the bed and the wall. his hands run through his hair, tugging at the strands in frustration. “I wasn’t fast enough. you could’ve died, because of me being too slow.”
the words hang heavy in the air, and you can see how much they’re weighing on him, tearing at him. this is katsuki at his rawest—angry not because of anyone else, but at himself.
he’s always been his harshest critic, and now, seeing you hurt, he’s taking all that anger out on himself.
you sit up a little, despite the dull ache that runs through your body. “but I didn’t, katsuki. I’m right here. you saved me.”
he stops pacing, standing still, his back to you. his shoulders are tense, and you can hear him take a deep breath, trying to reign in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him.
when he finally turns around, his face is a mixture of anger and vulnerability—two emotions he’s never been good at handling.
“damn it,” he mutters, stalking back toward you. he sits on the edge of the bed this time, closer than before, and his hand finds yours again, this time holding on a little tighter.
“you don’t get it, y/n. I can’t—” his voice falters, and for a second, you see something crack in his usual tough demeanor.
“I can’t just sit here and act like it’s no big deal,” he says quietly. “seein’ you like that… I’m supposed to be stronger. supposed to be the one protectin’ you, and I couldn’t even do that right.”
your heart aches at how hard he’s being on himself, but you know this is how katsuki is. he carries the weight of responsibility like it’s his personal burden to bear, and any sign of failure hits him harder than it should.
you squeeze his hand, drawing his attention back to you. “you didn’t fail, katsuki. you got there. you stopped it before it got worse. that’s all I need.”
he doesn’t respond for a moment, just stares down at your intertwined hands, his thumb running over your knuckles absentmindedly. there’s a long silence before he speaks again, this time softer, more controlled.
“you’re my wife,” he mutters, almost like he’s reminding himself of it. “I’m supposed to keep you safe. you don’t get to get hurt like this.”
you smile, tugging lightly on his hand to bring him closer. “and I’m supposed to protect you too. we’re in this together, remember?”
he huffs, clearly still not happy with himself, but the tension in his shoulders eases just a little. “yeah, yeah,” he mutters, leaning back in his chair again.
but his hand never leaves yours, gripping it tightly like he’s afraid to let go.
“you’re not gettin’ rid of me,” he says after a long pause, his voice a little lighter now, though the worry is still there, lingering under the surface. “I’m stayin’ here until they force me out. and don’t even think about tryin’ to convince me otherwise.”
you laugh softly, the sound easing some of the heaviness in the room. “wouldn’t dream of it.”
for a moment, neither of you says anything, just sitting there in the quiet comfort of each other’s presence.
you can feel the intensity of his gaze, the way he’s still watching you like he’s waiting for something to go wrong, but you know he’ll calm down eventually.
he’s stubborn, protective, and always pushing himself harder than anyone else. but you wouldn’t have him any other way.
“rest, will ya?” he mutters after a while, his voice softer now. “I’ll be right here.”
you nod, letting your eyes close as you feel the exhaustion start to catch up to you. his hand is still holding yours, warm and solid, a constant reminder that he’s there, just like always.
you can barely catch him raising your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to it.
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kofi — navigation — masterlist
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do not copy, translate, or plagarize
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airybcby · 3 months ago
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Did You See Me On TV?
( bllk boys and being in a long distance relationship )
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a/n — thought about this and just HAD to write. no long distance relationship experience, but def some long distance friendship experience. rather short, but i had to get it out.
content — fem! reader, set in the ' Neo Egoist ' era, some characters repeated, all characters 18+, angst, fluff, maybe some ooc for some people??, nicknames 'love' , 'babe' , 'baby' , ' my girl ' , and 'sweetheart' used
synopsis — yes, he's a world famous soccer player, but he's also your boyfriend. how does this effect your relationship?
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you tell yourself it's fine, ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' radio silence '
it's been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play for the soccer team he'd been assigned to, and what had you heard from him?
...complete and utter silence.
you understood he was busy now, you really did, but he hadn't even called while he'd been gone. any text he sent was no more than 3 words.
you were still in love with him, but was he in love with you anymore? had he forgotten all about you? was there another girl that was better than you?
the promise the two of you had made before he left sat on your tongue like lead now.
" you'll come back whenever you can, right? " you'd asked him. " for you? always. i couldn't imagine a life without you. i promise i'll call every chance i get. "
you stared at your phone, the text you'd sent him before his game started staring back at you...mocking you.
you: good luck, love!! i'm rooting for you from home! i love you, have fun, don't get hurt. call me when you can <3
it was almost pitiful. three almost exact texts sat above that one, and he hadn't even bothered to read them until after the game, simply replying with a...
him <3 : thanks
and no, if you were wondering, he hadn't ever called you.
and here you were, like a fool, curled up in your bed watching his game on live TV, watching as he made his second goal of the day.
maybe, just maybe, he'd call you after this one.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ SAE ITOSHI, isagi yoichi, RIN ITOSHI, oliver aiku, OTOYA EITA, rensuke kunigami
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' a complete mess '
he'd been gone a month, and you can't count a single day he hasn't called you three times at minimum. you'd been together for a while, but you never realized how much he relied on you to do basic everyday tasks for him.
"babe? do you know where i usually keep my long socks?" you heard come from your phone speaker as you were trying to do your own homework, mind you.
" usually in the middle of your top drawer next to your underwear. unless you've changed it. " you stated, he'd asked you this question every single time he had a game since he had left, but you wouldn't dare expect him to remember that.
" you're the best, baby. what would i do without you? " your boyfriend asked as he pulled socks out of his drawer, propping his phone up on the bedside lamp as he slid the socks onto his feet.
" lose your head, probably. " you joked, looking up from your work to admire him.
yes, everyone got to see him as the big, bad soccer player on TV, but with you? he seemed like a completely different person, not someone who could get a hat trick and also simultaneously asking where their phone is while it's in their hand.
" your games soon, love. you gotta get going. " you helpfully reminded him, as if you were his personal alarm ( you were but that's besides the point )
" ah crap, thank you baby. i'll call you after i win," he said cheekily. " i'll score a goal just for you, so make sure you watch!"
" you know i will. call you later, i love you. " you reflected his smile through the phone. " i love you too! " he repeated. and just as you were about to press the 'end call' button...
"oh, baby? do you remember where i put my jersey?"
yeah, without you he'd be a train wreck.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ NAGI SEISHIRO, bachira meguru, HIORI YO, gin gagamaru, ZANTETSU TSURUGI, ranze kurona
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ the... ' basically married '
it'd been a month since your boyfriend had left to go play professional soccer, and out of the four games he had played, you'd been flown out for three of them.
" do you like it? " he asked giddily, as if he was a child on christmas morning waiting to open presents. but instead of a gift, it was him showing you the hotel room he'd gotten you so you could watch his game this week too.
" you're too sweet to me, love. i would've been happy just sitting at home and cheering you on from there. " you told him. " nope! you're no longer allowed to watch the games from home," he said as if it was a fact.
oh, soccer players and their superstitions.
" even the whole team agrees! my girl is our lucky charm! "
the one game you missed, because you had a big test may i add, they lost. it wasn't a horrible loss, no, they went into additional time and lost 5-4.
your shock and confusion must have been written all of your face, because he just laughed. " c'mon sweetheart, why don't you just come live with me here ? "
many reasons, actually. you still had school, it was across the world (not really but it felt like it ), your family, your friends.
he knew all of this, of course. there usually wasn't a day that you seriously considered it. considered being here, with him, instead of having to facetime and miss him.
one day, you would, but not now...you think.
"oh, hush. you gotta get going, you have a game to win." you huffed, pushing at his shoulder to hopefully get him going out the door.
"alright, alright. i'll come back with you after the game, sweetheart. i love you, see you after my win! "
and win he would, because he swore to himself that if he won this game the velvet box that was hiding in his dresser would finally be able to come out.
but, hey, even if he didn't win, would you say no to the ring he had custom made for you?
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ REO MIKAGE, isagi yoichi, YUKIMIYA KENYU, chigiri hyoma, nijiro nanase, BARO SHOEI
⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆ ' you're just in love ' ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆
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this was really written on a whim, but i hope yall liked it!
likes, comments, and reblogs appreciated!
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