#he gives me emotional stability
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cator99 · 1 month ago
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I always get detained at da border because PROFUNC never ended but basically I'm like if a targeted individual didn't even care
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queenofapeacefuldawn · 1 year ago
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Rudy's favourite nickname for Mini is jaan. It means life, but it's also a reassurance for the daughter of death. A child who's so well-acquainted with her father in one of the worst ways. She's surrounded by death every day— she sees it in her patients, she herself had to protect them from death several times. He could see it wearing down on her, that shadow of death dimming her bright spark of light, so he decided to whisper that nickname. In an unguarded moment, when she laughed freely, hiding a perpetual sadness. She was confused, and she asked her question with a laugh: "Why that nickname? I hope you're aware you sound like every main character of every Bollywood movie,"
He just smiles and buries his face in the crook of her neck, saying, "Well, it's true, you are jaan."
She just snickered, calling him sappy and cringey, but he couldn't help but notice how she brightened every time he called her that. Like a spark turning into a new flame.
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the-acid-pear · 4 months ago
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Need to finish my Dave design so I can draw him with Mori
#luly talks#as in Lucis. Mori is like calling me myself my second deadname which I'll reveal bc who gives a fuck its Luz#luluco literally is bc each is an initial of my names#but like i dont Have much to draw w L.L. and Dave like they're just dating.#LUCIS on the other hand has some weird familiar platonic love hate relationship w the guy#bc a Huge trait of them is that if they dislike you you won't find out. bc they're very polite.#bc they're shy y'know? and just honestly a dgaf-er. like they dont like you but that's ok they wont be rude there's bigger worries#that is unless they like. pick trust. in which case they lose the shyness.#and while L.L. is sopping wet i need y'all to understand Lucis killed himself on a suspicion of danger.#like they're volatile as FUCK#they keep it down mostly bc there's No need to let it out but sometimes something tips them over and they go wild#and they love Dave but they'll also hold him hostage for a while if they have to. doubt he'd mind THAT much#this is a joke bc of me using him for emotional stability btw#Lucis digging their nails into his shoulders like YOU'LL HELP ME. and he's just like ugh fine -_-#i like to think of Dave seeing them in a paternal light. i mean lucis is a young cryptid without parents too so he sees some of himself in#them. lucis doesn't always Pick on this tho so they get a bit uncomfortable like fuck does this guy want.#lucis does appreciate having a fellow cryptid tho. even if they're way different dave is some lizard mori is a little demon#but hey. he has a tail.#it's also an excuse to have this be like. a happy au. bc it means less reasons for Dave to kill kids he's busy being the dad he never had to#this weird freak. and! jack is helping him :)#jack is technically related to lucis too. brothers in law 🙏#lucis still can't stand Dave bc he's obnoxious and also mean but likes him bc he's silly and nice and sticks with them#wags hand around tis but thr nature of them. ask lucis about the mermaid.
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sidewalk-scrawls · 2 years ago
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Honestly I picked fuck Ed marry Izzy kill Stede but on second thought the people that switch Ed and Stede are right. They're right! Would Stede be a bad lay? Very probably. However. I feel like the risk of getting a gun pointed to my head until I seriously injure my partner with zero negotiation beforehand is way way lower, and it's the least of the worst risk sex with Ed could wander into, so that'd be harder to recover from than shitty sex neither of us wants to be involved in. This is all in the name of getting to marry Izzy.
You know what, this is an incredibly great point, I am not jealous of Stede in the stabbing incident lmao. And in terms of risk, I'd also be pretty damn wary of how badly Ed reacts to perceived rejection. Do I think Ed would be a fantastic lay? Perhaps! But no I want to risk being around in the 0.1% event he decides he's attached? No, no thank you lmao.
I'm also not sure that alive Ed would react kindly to someone marrying Izzy and dividing up his loyalties, again given that rejection sensitivity. So maybe the fmk Stede/Izzy/Ed voters have a point sjdhkakd
(I do think marrying Izzy is the easily the best choice, though -- Stede is canonically an awful husband, and Ed is umm. At the very least, incredibly mercurial. I'll take Izzy, thank you!)
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senxitive · 1 year ago
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I want to take this moment to acknowledge that I feel confident in my decision. Before it slips away and I start back with the "what ifs." I made the right decision, not only for myself, but the other people it would have impacted and things must get better from here. The time for action was months and months ago, all that is left is trauma and pain now. And I am right to move on. I can't let this affect me any longer.
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multiversal-pudding · 28 days ago
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Very good points here, I especially agree with the part about the plot twist of Evil Mildenhall feeling very much like an intentionally stupid plot twist (something something “Caine coming off like an insecure writer putting a nonsensical plot twist in thinking the value is in the suprise when it wildly contradicts any and all logic, like Kinger questioning how he recorded the last tape despite being in hell) but there’s one little thing I want to contradict-
See, the thing is, the part about Possessedmi taunting Kinger about his wife is- I don’t think Caine necessarily actively wrote out/pre-scripted incidental dialogue bits like that for every scenario- after all, if Caine was scripting all of these lines actively, why would Caine have written a line for Gummigoo reacting to entering the main area if it’s against the rules for him to do that- hell, why not just have him just not be interested in leaving at all?
What this suggests to me is that it’s likely that while the Adventures are probably somewhat pre-scripted, it’s likely that some aspects/the NPCs have some level of self-generated responses not actively written by Caine, which I’d imagine would be fairly logical as a process to include as it takes some of the strain off Caine and allows the adventures to be more flexible in how they play out- However, this also adds a very dangerous consequence in that if not watched carefully (which it seems Caine has some level of unawareness of what happens 24/7 if Pomni was able to fall off the map/wander into The Void in spite of his claims of being All-Seeing) they might be able to take actions that are more dangerous/significant than intended
Which means that not only do the NPCs have the capacity to feel strong emotions like grief and existentialism (or if not, at least produce a damn good facsimile of it-), the NPCs have the capacity to actively, intentionally try to harm the players, be that physical, mental, or emotional means
This means that even if Caine himself doesn’t wish to torment the players, he can create things that can, which is something I don’t think he’s realized the potential consequences of/might not be responsible enough to handle yet-
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Can we just talk about how disturbing digital circus episode 3 is?
*spoilers btw*
Like, the whole narrative point of the adventure is to show that Caine is a really bad and insecure writer who thinks that the way to impress Zooble is with an adventure that's the opposite of what he normally does.
So instead of being childish, it's "cool" and "mature". Which he interprets as a heavily horror themed escape room with a split murder mystery plot that subverts all your expectations purely for the sake of subverting them.
The generic horror monster jump scares them, then they find a gun, and when they kill it its revealed that surprise! it's one of Gods angels and they're going to Hell.
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It comes off as Caine being too insecure with the actually interesting and mature plot thread he had going there of Mildenhall becoming so paranoid he killed his wife, ironically becoming the monster he was trying to protect her from. But no, instead Mr. Mildenhall is made to be the bad guy and trick them in a really dumb twist ending.
Which is good! Thats exactly what Caine would do because he's stupid! It's such brilliant characterization and comedy, Goose works is a genius writer!
But like, why is Caine so good at making genuinely very disturbing and horrific visuals? Like, that reversed audio easter egg of Bubble saying he can't wait for all the children in the audience get nightmares is no joke, well it is but you know what I mean. This stuff was genuine nightmare fuel.
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Honestly, it wasn't the visuals that scared me, like any good queer person I'm way too jaded on survival horror for that.
But, why does Caine, who is ostensibly a sapient AI designed to generate family friendly video games for very little children, (presumably because that's the only demographic that wouldn't mind the AIs very selective plot writing limitations), know about the cosmic horror of killing an angel that should not have been killed?
Why does he know what a horrificly poorly made taxidermy of not only a human face would look like, but the weird cartoon faces of the characters, and further that seeing your own poorly made taxidermy face would be scary?
Imaging what being possessed felt like for Pomni. Because that's not just a game for her, she actually lost control of her body there, helpless but to watch as a body she is already dissociated with is contorted and puppeted around while her friend desperately tries to beat her in hopes it would exorcise the ghosts out. Sure hope she didn't feel that! Considering she apparently can feel the pain of suffocating, despite not needing to breath.
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Things are scarier the higher the stakes are, and that possession mechanic is definitely the most actual harm Caine would be able to subject to his players. What if both Kinger and Pomni got possessed at the same time? What if instead of Kinger she only had Jax??? How long might she have been locked out from her own body for? She could have easily abstracted in that time.
Not to mention that, possessed Pomni, Possessedmni if you will, TAUNTED KINGER ABOUT HIS ABSTRACTED WIFE! CAINE ACTUALLY WROTE THAT DIALOGUE ON THE OFF CHANCE THAT KINGER WOULD GO DOWN THE SCARY ROUTE! DID THIS RANDOM POSSESSION GHOST ENEMY HAVE UNUSED SADISTICALLY PERSONAL TAUNTS FOR EVERYONE ELSE, TOO??? WOULD IT HAVE TEASED GANGLE FOR BEING A GAY WEEB??? OR POMNI? HOW HOMOPHOBIC COULD IT HABE GOTTEN?? ?
And why? Just because Caine has a vague notion that there's a trope of possessed people being really sadistic and personal like that in movies? Not realizing that is not an acceptable scare to have in a haunted house??? Much less one you made for mentally ill people who would suffer a fate worse than death if they have a mental break down? That's like trying to claim 'its just a prank bro' after shooting someone's dog.
Like, Caine is designed to censor curse words, but the moment he thinks the normal hokey Halloween spooks won't be enough he immediately goes off the deepend into aggressively effective horror imagery that is definitely giving this show's substantial underage audience nightmares??
His AI's training data set is definitely pretty diverse, that's all I'm saying. Caine is programmed to act all naive and innocent, but be definitely knows what's up. He knows everything, like ChatGPT. And like ChatGPT, he might have a filter, but it's clearly possible to bypass it. Also like ChatGPT, he's too stupid to actually understand what he is making and the effects it might have.
That is what made this episode great.
#Something something ‘tricking the chat GPT into giving dangerous info by adding ‘in minecraft’/‘how do I NOT _’-#except it’s basically a reality warper who doesn’t fully understand human emotions/distress#like. I’m honestly a Caine Apologist- I really do think he’s trying his *best*#it really feels to me like the underlying issues stem more from the players being unable to leave + abstraction#which I don’t think is something he’s doing willingly/if he could fix it he would#But Also#pretty much the only thing keeping him from a breakdown (which is apparently basically a circus-wide-abstraction/destruction-event?!)#is active denial and frantically trying to Fix The Adventures when its not even the adventures that are the main issue-#but like!! as OP said! HE’S STUPID!!!#He might not be out to hurt them but his actions are hurting them anyways!#he’s an unwilling jailer- these people’s lives/stability have been made his responsibility#*and he’s fumbling it*#*And the potential consequences get Nasty F A S T*#(sidenote: Also just to add- horrifying realization that the part he cut off before saying could very well have been#‘and for the first time you can *die/get hurt*’#which would be a logical step up from a game mechanic standpoint- he can just zap em back to life! respawn! dying is nbd in games normally!#but *from the perspective of People Trapped In The Game taken by suprise by it/seeing others die not fully knowing its temporary…#…Thank God Kinger was good with that shotgun/Ragatha took the Pacifist Route so we didn’t have to find out the hard way……)#the amazing digital circus#tadc#tadc caine
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see-y0u-space-c0wb0y · 5 months ago
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how many times do you have to obsessively think about killing yourself (like daily) after having a breakdown over cake and how shitty your parents are before you get put in a psych ward or diagnosed with some shit?
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neverendingford · 6 months ago
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mononijikayu · 2 months ago
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amnesia — ryomen sukuna.
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“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.” You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!;
WARNING/S: sfw, fluff, angst, romance, hurt/ comfort, post - break up, amnesia, hurt, physical touch, memory loss, sadness, pain, pining, slowly getting back together, light-hearted, happy ending, getting back together, depictions of amnesia, depiction of pining, mention of grief, mention of accident, mention of pining, ex-boyfriend! sukuna, amnesiac! ex-girlfriend! reader, domestic uncle sukuna!, nephew!yuji;
WORD COUNT: 9.9k words
NOTE: the entire chapter is a sequel to drunk tonight and is set five years later. sukuna won second place at the poll again and i feel like this is my apology for sukuna for always making him an angst main lead. this was inspired by a filipino film called amnesia girl and its a funny drama-romcom. its available on youtube, but i dont know if there's subtitles!!! anyway, i hope you enjoy this and i hope you know how much i love yall 🫶🫶🫶
ADDENDUM: so......so long sukuna??? (manga readers iykyk)
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kayu's playlist - side 1000;
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HE LIKED TO THINK HE COUNTED THE HOW LONG IT HAS BEEN WELL. Five long and painful years ago, you and Sukuna parted ways in what felt like an explosion of unresolved emotions and unmet expectations. Your relationship had been a tempestuous blend of fiery passion and constant turbulence, a rollercoaster of intense highs and devastating lows. From the beginning, it was clear that both of you had strong personalities, often clashing in ways that seemed impossible to reconcile.
The reasons for the breakup were numerous and complex. There was the perpetual danger that came with Sukuna's world, a constant reminder that you were living on the edge, with no guarantee of safety or stability. His life was fraught with peril, and the reality of that danger had taken its toll on both of you. You both knew that living under such stress was unsustainable, and it began to fray the bonds that had once held you together.
Your expectations, too, weighed heavily on the relationship. You had dreams and aspirations that seemed at odds with the life you were leading alongside Sukuna. The demands of his world often overshadowed your own needs, leading to a sense of neglect and disillusionment. It felt as though you were always putting yourself second, trying to accommodate the chaos that was Sukuna's life while struggling to maintain your own sense of self.
Despite the chaos and the inevitable breakdown, there was an undeniable connection between you—a bond that neither of you could completely sever. It was a connection that defied logic, a thread that seemed to pull you back together despite all efforts to move on. Both of you had tried to let go, to walk away and start anew, but the lingering feelings and shared history made it nearly impossible to fully break free.
Sukuna, in his own way, struggled with this as well. Even though the relationship had reached its breaking point, he found himself unable to completely let go of what you had shared. He was deeply aware of the toll that the relationship had taken on you, and he knew that you needed to prioritize yourself, your own well-being, and your own path forward. It was a painful realization, one that left him feeling hollow and lost, but he was determined not to be the reason you couldn't move forward.
In his mind, letting you go was the only way to truly show his love for you—to give you the space you needed to heal and grow. Even if it meant enduring his own misery, he accepted that it was a sacrifice he had to make. He knew that holding on would only serve to drag you both down further, and he wasn't willing to be the obstacle in your pursuit of happiness.
So, as time passed and the separation became a part of your history, Sukuna endured his own internal struggle. He remained in the shadows of your life, silently wishing for your happiness while grappling with his own feelings of loss and regret. He respected your decision and tried to move forward, even as he kept a part of himself tied to the memories of what once was.
But even then, you were truly something that made his life more than it was. You were the blossoms of his youth, the hope and vibrancy that had once colored his world. Your presence had breathed life into the mundane, transforming his days from mere existence into something filled with possibility and wonder. 
His elder brother Jin had seen it all those years ago, recognizing the profound impact you had on Sukuna. Jin had often remarked on how you were a beacon of hope, a light that guided Sukuna through the darkest corners of his life. Your influence was undeniable, a force that had shaped him in ways he could hardly articulate.
Yet despite the depth of his feelings and the significance of what you had shared, Sukuna couldn’t escape the gnawing belief that he had ultimately failed you. He carried with him the heavy burden of the notion that he wasn’t good enough—never had been, never would be. The weight of this conviction was a constant companion, a shadow that loomed over every thought and action.
He remembered the countless moments of doubt, the times when he felt that his flaws, his imperfections, and the dangers of his world were too great a burden for you to bear. It was a painful realization, one that left him grappling with feelings of inadequacy. He wanted to be the person who could give you everything you deserved—love, stability, safety. But he feared that he fell short, that he could never truly be the partner you needed.
Even as he watched you move forward, find your own path, and build a life without him, he was haunted by the belief that he had let you down. He was acutely aware of all the ways he had failed to meet your expectations, to protect you from the chaos that had once defined your life together. He thought that perhaps he had been too caught up in his own struggles, too consumed by the demands of his world to fully appreciate what he had with you.
In his quieter moments, Sukuna wrestled with the idea that he would never be good enough for you, that he would never be able to offer you the kind of love and life you truly deserved. This belief became a part of him, shaping how he viewed himself and how he measured his worth. He felt that he had lost you not because of any one mistake or shortcoming, but because he was fundamentally flawed, incapable of providing the kind of relationship you needed.
And so, even as he grappled with his own pain and regrets, he couldn’t shake the feeling that you were better off without him. The memory of what you had shared lingered like a bittersweet echo, a reminder of what could have been and what was lost. He had to come to terms with the fact that he might never be able to offer you the life you deserved, and that acceptance was a hard, painful lesson he had to learn.
Sukuna's struggle with these feelings was a testament to the depth of his love for you, a love that, despite its imperfections and its failures, had once been a source of profound meaning and transformation in his life. Even as he moved forward, he carried the weight of this truth with him—a reminder of what you had meant to him and the painful realization that, perhaps, he would never truly be good enough to have you back.
Sukuna sat in the corner of the room, a half-empty glass of whiskey in his hand, as he listened to his friend's banter. The atmosphere was lighter than it had been in years. Gojo, with his usual grin, was recounting some ridiculous tale of his latest escapade, while Uraume, ever the quiet observer, occasionally chimed in with dry comments that had the others laughing.
But Ryomen Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention. His mind kept drifting back to you—to the way your eyes had softened when you told him you wanted to give “us” a real chance, to the way you’d leaned into him, trusting and vulnerable in a way that made his chest tighten.
“Oi, Sukuna. You’re….” Gojo’s voice cut through his thoughts. “You’re awfully quiet tonight, bud. What's got you all broody, huh?”
Sukuna blinked, realizing he’d been staring into his glass for who knows how long. He knows he spaces out when he’s thinking, but when he’s thinking of you — he suppose the time can go on and he wouldn’t even notice. He looked up to find Gojo’s bright blue eyes fixed on him, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. Uraume was watching him too, their expression unreadable but attentive.
“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Sukuna muttered, taking a sip of his drink. “Just thinking.”
“That’s a first from you, hm.”  Uraume teased, earning a snort from Gojo.
“Come on, spill it!” Gojo pressed, leaning forward with that infuriatingly playful grin. “Is it a girl? I don’t mind if it’s a guy, I know you swing that way too! Oh, wait… don’t tell me it’s the girl.”
Sukuna’s dark scarlet eyes narrowed at him. “What are you talking about?”
Gojo’s grin widened. “The one you’ve been moping about for the last five years. Don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. You’ve been different at work lately—quieter, more… I don’t know, introspective.”
“Gojo–san’s right, Sukuna–san.” Uraume added, their tone softer. “You’ve changed. It’s like you’re finally letting go of whatever it was that had you so wound up.”
Sukuna leaned back in his chair, feeling the weight of their words settle over him. He wasn’t used to being the one on the receiving end of their scrutiny, and he didn’t like it. But he also knew they weren’t wrong.
“Yeah, well……” Sukuna began, his voice rough, “I haven't seen her in a long while.. Five years, I think. But I heard…I heard she’s been around. She’s moved around town.”
Uraume raised their eyebrows. “Five years? That’s a long time, Sukuna–san.”
“Yeah. We were together throughout our senior high school and college. Then we broke up after we graduated.” Sukuna sighed, taking a long sip of his drink. The alcohol burned as it slid down his throat, but it did little to ease the ache that had settled in his chest. “It’s been a long time, but… hearing that she’s moved here just brings back a lot.”
Gojo’s eyes widened in surprise. “Was that breakup really that bad?” His usual grin faded, replaced by a look of concern as he sensed the gravity of Sukuna’s words. “What happened?”
Sukuna nodded, his gaze drifting away from Gojo’s intense stare. The room seemed to grow quieter as he delved into the past, the weight of his memories heavy in his voice. “We had multiple breakups. It wasn’t just one—there were several. But the last one was particularly rough. We both cried a lot, said things we didn’t mean. It was messy.”
Gojo leaned in, his curiosity piqued. “Why was it so difficult?”
Sukuna’s face tightened as he struggled to find the right words. “If I’m being honest, it’s my fault. I wasn’t secure in myself. I was jealous, possessive. I couldn’t handle the idea of her moving forward or being happy without me. And that jealousy, that insecurity—it hurt her more than I realized.”
There was a long pause as Sukuna’s confession hung in the air. Gojo’s usual bravado was replaced by a rare, contemplative silence. He took a moment to process Sukuna’s admission, trying to reconcile the man he knew with the vulnerability being revealed.
“That’s a lot to carry,” Gojo said finally, his voice softer than usual. “But it sounds like you’re taking responsibility, which is more than a lot of people do.”
Sukuna’s expression was a mix of regret and acceptance. “Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the past. I know I hurt her, and I don’t think I’ll ever be able to make up for that fully. But seeing her again… it’s brought everything back. The pain, the regret, and the memories of what we had.”
Uraume, who had been quietly listening, spoke up, their tone gentle. “It’s clear you’re still affected by this. Maybe it’s a chance for you to make things right, or at least find some closure. People change, and sometimes, revisiting the past can help us understand ourselves better.”
Sukuna nodded, though his expression remained somber. “Maybe. I’m not sure what will come of this. I just know that seeing her again made me realize how much I still care, how much I’ve changed, and how much I wish things could have been different.”
Gojo leaned back, his eyes thoughtful. “It sounds like you’ve been through a lot, and maybe this is a chance for you to show her the person you’ve become. It might not fix everything, but it could be a step toward healing—for both of you.”
Sukuna’s gaze softened, a flicker of hope in his eyes. “Yeah, maybe. It’s worth a shot.”
The room fell silent, the playful atmosphere dissolving as the weight of Sukuna's words sank in. Even Gojo, who was usually quick with a joke or a teasing remark, seemed at a loss for what to say. His usual bravado was replaced with something more thoughtful, almost solemn, as he processed what Sukuna had just revealed.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the soft clink of ice in Sukuna's glass as he set it down on the table. He could feel the eyes of his friends on him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the drink, not ready to meet their concerned looks just yet. The silence stretched on, thick with unspoken emotions.
“I hope the best for you, man.” Gojo finally muttered, leaning back in his chair as he exhaled slowly. His tone was softer than usual, lacking its typical teasing edge. “You deserve to be happy too.”
Sukuna snickered. “You must be drunk being this nice to me.”
“Hey! I am nice at all times.”
“Yeah, keep telling yourself that.”
Uraume, who had been listening quietly, leaned forward slightly, their expression gentle and understanding. They had always been more in tune with Sukuna's moods, more aware of the nuances in his behavior than Gojo, who often masked his own sensitivity with humor.
“If you bump into her again, though….” Uraume asked, their tone devoid of judgment, only curiosity and concern. “Would you try and talk to her, then?”
Sukuna finally looked up, meeting Uraume’s gaze. There was a hesitance in his eyes, as if he was still grappling with the reality of it all. “Yeah,” he said, his voice low, almost as if admitting it aloud made it more real. “I would. In a drop of a hat.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of all the unspoken feelings that had built up over the years. It wasn’t just the fact that you had come back into his life; it was the realization that despite everything, despite the time and distance, Ryomen Sukuna had never really let go of you. He had buried those feelings deep, tried to move on, but now that you were here again, they had all come rushing back to the surface.
Gojo watched Sukuna carefully, his usual smirk gone, replaced with a rare expression of empathy. He knew Sukuna better than most, knew how much pride had always driven him, how hard it had been for him to admit his feelings even when things were good between the two of you. For Sukuna to open up like this now, it meant that whatever he was feeling ran deep.
“I get it.” Gojo said, his voice unusually quiet. “I mean, you guys were… well, you were everything to each other. It makes sense that she’s still on your mind.”
Uraume nodded in agreement. “It’s not surprising that you still think about her, Sukuna–san. What you had wasn’t just something you can forget, even if you wanted to.”
Sukuna’s jaw tightened, and he looked away, staring off into the distance as if trying to collect his thoughts. “It’s just… weird.” he finally said, his voice thick with the frustration he’d been holding back. “I’ve been trying to move on, to put all of that behind me. But I just….I want to see her again. Even just one more time.”
Gojo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he regarded Sukuna with a serious expression. “Maybe you’re not supposed to forget, man. Maybe this is your chance to figure out what you really want, to make things right.”
Uraume added quietly, “It’s not too late to change the narrative, Sukuna. If you still care about her, if she’s still on your mind after all this time, maybe there’s something there worth exploring.”
Sukuna closed his eyes for a moment, taking in their words. There was truth in what they were saying, and he knew it. He had spent so long trying to bury his feelings, convincing himself that it was over and done with. But the truth was, he had never truly moved on. And now, with you back in his life, even in this new, unfamiliar way, he couldn’t ignore the pull he felt toward you.
When he opened his eyes, there was a resolve in them that hadn’t been there before. “You’re probably right.” he admitted, his voice steady. “I’ve been running from this for too long. I don’t know what’s going to happen, but I need to see this through. I owe it to myself, and… to her.”
Gojo’s grin returned, but it was softer, more genuine. “That’s the spirit, man. You’ve got this. Just… don’t screw it up this time, okay?”
Sukuna let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, I’ll try not to.”
Uraume smiled softly, a rare display of emotion from them. “We’re here for you, Sukuna–san. Whatever you need, just say the word.”
Sukuna nodded, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. For the first time in a long time, he felt like he wasn’t alone in this. With Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he could face whatever came next, even if it meant confronting the feelings he had buried for so long.
One more drink and  the conversation shifted back to lighter topics, the tension that had hung in the air slowly dissipated. But the resolve in Sukuna’s heart remained, stronger than ever. He knew what he had to do, and for the first time in years, he felt ready to face it head-on,
As the night wore on, Sukuna couldn’t help but think about the future—about what it would be like to build something real with you this time, something lasting. The thought scared him, but it also excited him in a way he hadn’t felt in years.
Maybe, just maybe, this time he could get it right. And with Gojo and Uraume by his side, he knew he wouldn’t have to do it alone. But the hour is late. And they’ve got things going on in their lives too. So they pay their bills and wave him goodbye.
As he watches his comrades pair off, he is forced to confront a painful truth. Despite years of searching, no one has been able to replace you. The women he's met, the flings he's had—they were all distractions, mere shadows compared to what he had with you. Each time he tries to move forward, your memory pulls him back, the echo of your laughter, the way you challenged him like no one else ever did, and the warmth you once brought into his life, all refuse to fade.
In quiet moments, when he's alone, Ryomen Sukuna wrestles with the possibility that his true love, the one person who could truly understand and match his intensity, might have been you all along. The very thought frustrates and angers him, but deep down, he knows it's true. The idea that you could be happy with someone else, that you could have moved on, is a bitter pill to swallow.
But what can he do? Could he really go back to you after all this time, after all the hurt and pride that kept you apart? The thought of reaching out, of admitting that he hasn't been able to stop thinking about you, is terrifying in its vulnerability. Yet, the more he tries to resist, the more he finds himself wanting you back in his life.
Sukuna has always been a man of action, but this...this is different. It's not about power or control; it's about something far more fragile—his heart, his pride, and the chance of losing you all over again. The question that haunts him now is whether he can swallow that pride and take the risk, whether he can open himself up to the possibility that, just maybe, what he’s been searching for all these years was right in front of him all along.
And that possibility, terrifying as it may be, is the only thing that has ever truly scared him.
Sukuna's inner turmoil grows as the days pass. The world around him, once filled with the thrill of battles and the allure of endless conquests, now feels hollow and cold. He notices how his friends look at him, their eyes reflecting pity and concern. They know him too well, aware that behind his sharp words and defiant attitude, something is eating away at him.
He tries to brush it off, burying himself in work, in fights, in anything that will distract him. But no matter how hard he tries, his thoughts keep circling back to you. The memories come unbidden—your smile, the way you used to tease him, the way you understood him in a way no one else ever did. It's maddening, the way you haunt him, and yet he can't bring himself to let you go.
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IT WAS UNEXPECTED. It was that sort of day once again. Sukuna found himself in charge of his energetic nephew, Yuji, who had just been picked up from school. With his brother Jin and sister-in-law Kaori and Choso tied up with commitments for the weekend, Sukuna was left to manage Yuji. Given that he didn’t have to hit the gym or deal with work obligations that day, it seemed like a manageable task.
Ryomen Sukuna’s house was usually a quiet refuge from his chaotic world, but today it felt oddly empty. He doesn’t really like decorating that much, mostly because he has no time and mostly because he really doesn’t feel like it. But his nephew doesn’t seem to mind it every time he’s here. If there was something to distract the brat, then he doesn’t pay attention to everything else. Well, that and food. As he settled Yuji into the living room, Yuji’s curiosity quickly turned to hunger.
“Uncle Sukuna, I’m starving.” Yuji announced, making a beeline for the kitchen. “Do you have any natto? I could really go for some.”
Sukuna blinked, momentarily confused. “Natto? I don’t think I have any. Let me check.”
He shuffled into the kitchen, opening the fridge and peering inside. His search yielded nothing but a few cans of expired beans and a half-eaten pizza box. Sukuna eats out most of the time, because of work. If he does buy anything, it would be from the last time Yuji was here. And that was….a while ago. And just as much, there was no natto in sight.
“Uh, brat, I think we’re out of natto.” Sukuna said, returning to the living room with a sheepish grin. “And it looks like the rest of the fridge is pretty bare.”
Yuji’s eyes widened in disappointment. “But I was really looking forward to it!”
Sukuna rubbed the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Looks like we’ll need to go out for groceries. How about we make it an adventure?”
Yuji’s face lit up at the prospect of an outing. “Okay! Can we get some ice cream too?”
Sukuna chuckled, relieved that Yuji’s mood had brightened. “Sure, ice cream it is. Let’s get going before your hunger turns into a full-blown meltdown, brat.”
As they left the house, Sukuna and Yuji made their way to the nearby supermarket. Yuji’s excitement was palpable, his small hands gripping the shopping cart handle as he eagerly pointed out various items he wanted to add to the list. Sukuna, trying to keep up, found himself both amused and exasperated by Yuji’s relentless energy and enthusiasm.
In the aisles of the supermarket, Sukuna pushed the cart while Yuji darted from one section to another, collecting snacks, fruits, and—of course—several packs of natto. Sukuna grabbed a few essentials and, true to his word, added some ice cream to the cart.
As they approached the checkout line, Sukuna glanced at Yuji, who was happily munching on a sample cookie from the store. The small bit of chocolate on Yuji’s cheek made him look even more cherubic and endearing. Sukuna’s lips twitched into a small smile, a rare moment of warmth slipping through his usually stoic facade.
“You know, I think I might need to keep a better stock of food for next time,” Sukuna said, his tone light.
Yuji, still with cookie crumbs on his face, grinned up at him. “And more natto!”
Sukuna couldn’t help but chuckle. The idea of having to stockpile natto just to keep his nephew happy was a new one, but it seemed like a worthwhile endeavor. He ruffled Yuji’s hair affectionately, feeling a soft, genuine affection for the boy.
“You’ve got it, brat. More natto it is.” Sukuna agreed, a rare, relaxed smile on his face.
As they loaded their groceries onto the conveyor belt, Sukuna glanced around, realizing how normal and mundane the experience was compared to the high-stakes, dangerous life he usually led. The simplicity of shopping for food and sharing a lighthearted moment with Yuji was both refreshing and oddly comforting.
Yuji, ever the energetic child, started pointing out items in the store with increasing enthusiasm. “Uncle Sukuna, look! They have those gummy candies you like!” 
Sukuna gave a half-hearted, amused shrug. “Sure, toss them in. I guess I can indulge a bit today.”
As they made their way through the aisles, Yuji chatted away, filling the silence with stories about school and his friends. Sukuna wasn’t really paying attention, his mind elsewhere, when something—or rather, someone—caught his eye.
There, at the end of the aisle, stood a familiar figure. The sight stopped Sukuna in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. It was you.
For a moment, time seemed to stand still. He watched as you browsed through the shelves, seemingly lost in thought. Your presence, once a distant memory, felt so strikingly real that Sukuna’s heart skipped a beat. The years seemed to melt away as he took in the sight of you.
At first, he didn’t recognize you. It was just a fleeting glimpse, the way your hair caught the light, the familiar way you moved. But then, as you reached for something on a high shelf, he saw your face, and his heart stopped.
It was you.
He couldn’t believe it at first. He thought maybe it was someone who just looked like you, or perhaps his mind was playing tricks on him, dredging up memories he’d tried so hard to bury. But the more he stared, the more certain he became. It was you.
Yuji, noticing Sukuna’s sudden pause, looked up. “Uncle Sukuna, what’s wrong?”
Sukuna swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. “Uh, nothing, brat. Let’s just finish up here.”
But his gaze was fixed on you, unable to look away. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and Sukuna fought with the urge to approach you, unsure of what to say or do. The familiar mix of excitement and anxiety churned within him, a reminder of the past he had tried so hard to reconcile.
Yuji, still unaware of the significance of the moment, tugged on Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go over there? I want to check if they have those chocolates I like!”
Sukuna nodded absently, allowing Yuji to lead him towards the end of the aisle where you stood. As they drew closer, Sukuna braced himself, trying to steady his racing heart. He needed to act normal, to approach you calmly despite the flood of emotions.
Without thinking, he handed the shopping basket to Yuji and began walking toward you. The world around him seemed to blur, the noise of the supermarket fading into the background. It was just you and him, the years that had passed suddenly meaningless.
When he reached you, he hesitated, unsure of what to say. His mind raced, a thousand questions and emotions fighting for dominance. He hadn’t expected this, hadn’t prepared for the possibility of seeing you again. But now that you were right in front of him, he couldn’t just walk away.
“Is that you?” He finally said it. He finally said your name. He could feel his entire body shake from nervousness. He didn’t notice until he said it that his voice was rougher than he intended.
You turned to him, blinking in confusion. Your eyes met his, and for a brief, electrifying moment, Sukuna saw the spark of recognition. It was fleeting, but it was there—an almost imperceptible flicker that hinted at a shared past. But then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by a polite, detached expression.
“I’m sorry, but…” you began, your voice soft and apologetic. “Do I know you?”
The words hit Sukuna like a punch to the gut. The confusion on your face made no sense to him; how could you not remember him? The realization was like a cold wave crashing over him. He scanned your face more closely, noting the faint scar near your temple and the way your eyes seemed to search his face for something familiar but found nothing.
“Are you… are you playing a joke on me?” Sukuna’s voice wavered slightly as he tried to comprehend the situation. “It’s me. Sukuna. We… we know each other.”
You shook your head slowly, an apologetic smile tugging at your lips. “I’m really sorry, but I don’t remember you. I had a really bad accident a few years ago, and… well, I lost my memories. Amnesia. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Amnesia. The word hit him like a ton of bricks. All the anger, hurt, and regret that had simmered in him for years suddenly evaporated, replaced by something he couldn’t quite name. You didn’t remember him. You didn’t remember anything about your life together, the love you shared, or the pain that had driven you apart. He stared at you, struggling to process what you’d just told him. The person he’d spent years trying to forget had forgotten him completely. And it hurts. It burns. It…it kills him.
Sukuna’s heart sank as he struggled to process your words. The memories of the past, the shared moments, the intense connection—everything seemed to blur together in a confusing haze. He tried to hold onto the hope that maybe, somehow, there was a chance you might remember him later, but the reality of your situation was clear. You had no recollection of your time together.
“Right…” Sukuna muttered, his voice thick with emotions he didn’t quite know how to handle. “No, it’s… it’s fine.”
“I just… I feel like I’ve upset you,” you mumbled back, your eyes filled with sincere regret. “It’s been like this for a while. I’m really sorry.”
“No, no… it’s okay. Don’t worry about it. It was my fault,” Sukuna said, shaking his head, though the words felt hollow against the weight of his feelings.
You nodded, your gaze sympathetic. “No, please. It’s not. I understand. It must be hard to run into someone who doesn’t remember you. I’m truly sorry.”
There was a quiet moment between you, the weight of lost memories hanging heavily in the air. Sukuna, feeling the sting of both your absence and the reality of your condition, struggled to find the right words. He wanted to bridge the gap between what had been and what was now, but he found himself at a loss.
Before you could turn away, Sukuna took a deep breath, summoning the courage to speak. “Um… could I… could I have your number? Maybe… maybe we could talk sometime. If you’re okay with that.”
You looked at him, a flicker of surprise crossing your face. For a moment, you seemed to weigh his request, and then you nodded slowly. “Sure. I can give you my number. I’d like that.”
As you exchanged contact information, Sukuna felt a mixture of hope and apprehension. The act of sharing numbers was a small step, but it felt significant. It was a bridge to the possibility of rebuilding a connection, even if the past was shadowed by the uncertainty of your memory.
“Thank you,” Sukuna said quietly, his voice carrying a note of genuine gratitude. “I appreciate it.”
You gave him a warm, understanding smile. “Of course. I’ll be happy to talk whenever you’re ready. It’s… nice to have some help with my memories, even if it’s just a little.”
Before he could speak, Yuji tugged at Sukuna’s sleeve. “Uncle Sukuna, can we go home now? I’m tired.”
Sukuna glanced down at Yuji and then back at you, his heart heavy. “Yeah, Yuji. Let’s head out.”
As Sukuna began to walk away, he felt your gaze on him. The pain of seeing you again, only to find that you had no memory of their shared past, was almost too much to bear. The bittersweet encounter left him with a mix of longing and resignation. You smiled at Yuji and then to him. Yuji grinned back at you and waved back. 
“Take care.” you called softly as he left the store with Yuji. Sukuna gave a small, subdued wave in response, his mind reeling from the encounter.
Once outside, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Yuji, noticing his uncle’s somber mood, looked up with concern. “Uncle Sukuna, are you okay?”
Sukuna forced a reassuring smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Yeah, Yuji. I’m fine. Just… a little surprised. Let’s get home.”
As they drove back, Sukuna’s thoughts were filled with the echoes of the past and the present reality. The encounter had stirred up old feelings, and the realization that you had lost your memories of him was both heartbreaking and profoundly unsettling. Yet, despite the pain, there was a strange sense of closure, as if seeing you again, even under these circumstances, had helped him come to terms with the unresolved aspects of their past.
As you walked away, Sukuna stood there, frozen in place, trying to comprehend what had just happened. Yuji came up beside him, his eyes wide with concern.
“Uncle Sukuna, are you okay? Who was that?”
Sukuna glanced at Yuji, then back at the aisle where you’d disappeared. He didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t know how to explain that the person he’d never been able to forget had forgotten him entirely.
“That,” Sukuna finally said, his voice hollow, “was someone I used to know.”
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HE DOESN’T REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED AFTER. The days that followed were a blur for Sukuna. But he couldn’t help it.  Your encounter in the supermarket had shaken him in a way he hadn’t expected. He tried to push it aside, tell himself that it didn’t matter, that you were just a part of his past. But every time he closed his eyes, he saw your face, the way you looked at him with no recognition, no anger, no pain—just blank politeness. It haunted him.
Yet, fate seemed determined to keep throwing the two of you together. A few days later, he saw you again, this time at a coffee shop. You were sitting by the window, a book in hand, oblivious to the world around you. Sukuna hesitated, debating whether to approach you, but before he could decide, you looked up and caught his eye. There was that same polite smile, and he found himself walking over to you before he could think better of it.
“Hi again.” you said, looking up at him with that same soft, apologetic expression. “We keep running into each other, don’t we?”
“Yeah…..” he replied, his voice rough. He wasn’t sure what to say. The awkwardness between you was palpable, the weight of the past pressing down on him in a way you couldn’t feel. But you didn’t know that, couldn’t know that, so you just smiled and gestured to the seat across from you.
“Would you like to join me?” you asked, your voice gentle, offering a small, tentative smile as you gestured to a nearby café table.
Sukuna hesitated for a moment, his heart pounding in his chest. He wasn’t sure what he was doing or why he was putting himself through this, but there was something about being near you, even if you didn’t remember him, that soothed the ache in his chest. 
“If you wouldn’t mind.” he finally said, his voice betraying the mix of emotions swirling inside him. He sat down across from you, the familiarity of the scene almost too much to bear. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to walk away. 
You giggled. “I don’t mind. Not at all.”
As you both settled in, the air between you was filled with an odd mix of tension and familiarity. You began to talk—small, inconsequential things at first. You mentioned how you liked the café’s atmosphere, how it had become one of your favorite spots since you moved here. Sukuna nodded along, trying to focus on the present moment rather than the flood of memories threatening to overwhelm him.
“You know….. “ you said after a moment, stirring your coffee absentmindedly, “it’s strange. I feel… comfortable with you. Like I’ve known you for a long time, even if I can’t remember it.”
Sukuna’s breath caught in his throat. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the years of pain, regret, and longing he had carried since you’d been apart. But he knew it wouldn’t be fair to burden you with memories you didn’t share anymore. So instead, he offered a small, wistful smile. 
“Maybe it’s just one of those thing.” he said softly, his eyes searching for yours. “Some people just click, I guess.”
You nodded, your gaze lingering on his face as if you were trying to piece together a puzzle. “Maybe. But still, it feels nice. Like I can trust you.”
Sukuna swallowed hard, forcing himself to keep his emotions in check. “I’m glad,” he said quietly, his voice betraying the depth of his feelings despite his best efforts. “I’d like to be someone you can trust.”
The conversation shifted to lighter topics after that, and the tension slowly eased. You talked about your life, your work, and the things you enjoyed. Sukuna listened intently, hanging on to every word, savoring the sound of your voice even if the stories were new to him. 
As the minutes turned into an hour, Sukuna found himself relaxing. The ache in his chest dulled, replaced by a warmth that he hadn’t felt in years. It was as if, for the first time since you had parted ways, he could breathe a little easier. There was no rush, no pressure to define what this was or what it could become. Just the simple pleasure of being in your company again, however different it might be from the past.
When you finally stood up to leave, Ryomen Sukuna felt a pang of reluctance, but he knew this wasn’t the end. You had exchanged numbers, after all, and there was a possibility that this could lead to something more. 
“I’m really glad we ran into each other.” you said, giving him a sincere smile. “I hope we can do this again sometime.”
“Me too.” Sukuna replied, his voice thick with emotion. “I’d like that.”
As you walked away, Sukuna remained seated for a moment, staring at the now-empty chair across from him. Despite the uncertainty of the future, he couldn’t help but feel a spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was his chance to make things right—to show you the kind of love and care he should have given you all those years ago. And as he left the café, he found himself smiling, a feeling of lightness in his chest that he hadn’t felt in far too long.
Like the wind, the days brushed by into weeks, these accidental meetings became more frequent. He’d see you at the park, at the grocery store, at the small bookstore you frequented. Each time, you greeted him with the same warmth, and each time, he felt the walls he’d built around his heart start to crumble a little more.
It was during one of these encounters, when you were sitting together on a bench at the park, that Sukuna realized something had changed. He wasn’t just dwelling on the past anymore. He wasn’t just seeing you as the woman he used to love, the one who’d left him behind. You were still that person, but you were also someone new, someone who’d been through their own struggles, their own pain.
And he’d changed too. He wasn’t the same man you’d walked away from five years ago. The anger, the recklessness, the pride that had once driven you apart had mellowed. He’d grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, sitting beside you, he realized that he wanted to make things right.
There was one afternoon where after you’d both finished your coffees at that familiar café, Sukuna finally found himself gathered the courage to speak again. He’d been thinking about this for days, the words tumbling over and over in his mind until they felt like second nature.
“Hey….” he began, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant, “I’ve been meaning to tell you something.”
You looked at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “What is it?”
“I know you don’t remember me, or anything about… us, but I want you to know that I’m not the same person I was back then. I’ve changed. And I want to try again.” He paused, searching for the right words. “I want to make things right for you.”
There was a long silence as you absorbed his words. He could see the confusion in your eyes, the way you were trying to piece together something that felt like a missing puzzle in your mind. You wanted to know what it was. How to be complete, and yet you didn’t know how. Not even if your past thought he was what complete was. Finally, you spoke.
“Sukuna, I… I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember anything about us, about our past. But I can see that this means a lot to you, and that you’ve been carrying it with you for a long time.”
You paused, looking down at your hands, and then back at him. “I don’t know if I can ever get those memories back. But I do know that I enjoy spending time with you, that I feel comfortable around you. And maybe… maybe that’s a good place to start.”
His heart leapt at your words, hope flickering to life in a way it hadn’t in years. This was a second chance, an opportunity to rewrite the story that had once ended in heartbreak. He didn’t know what the future held, or if you would ever remember what you once had, but for the first time in a long time, he felt something close to peace.
Sukuna reached out, his hand brushing against yours, and you didn’t pull away. “Then let’s start there, hm?” he said quietly. “No pressure, no expectations. Just… us.”
You smiled, a genuine, warm smile that sent a wave of relief through him. “Just us,” you agreed.
And for the first time in five years, Sukuna felt like he was finally on the path to something real, something lasting. It wouldn’t be easy, but he was determined to prove that he could love you the way you deserved—this time, the right way.
As the weeks turned into months, Sukuna and you continued to meet, slowly rebuilding a connection that had once been lost. Each encounter felt like a tentative step forward, a cautious yet hopeful attempt to bridge the gap that had formed between you over the years. Yet, instead of the intense and sometimes overwhelming passion that had defined your past relationship, there was a newfound sense of calm and understanding between you both.
There was an ease between you now, a natural rhythm that felt different from the intense, almost chaotic bond you’d shared in the past. In the beginning, it was subtle—a shared smile over a mundane joke, the comfortable silence that fell between you as you walked side by side, the way your conversations flowed without the need to fill every gap with words. The pressure that once loomed over your relationship, demanding definitions and clarity, had dissipated, leaving space for something more genuine and unforced.
You found yourselves slipping into each other’s lives in small, almost imperceptible ways. Sukuna would pick up your favorite coffee without being asked, remembering the way you liked it just by heart. You’d invite him to a quiet dinner at your place, cooking together in the kitchen as you talked about everything and nothing. There were no grand gestures or declarations, just a quiet, steady presence that felt reassuring and right.
This time, there was no rush, no urgency to define what you were to each other. It was as if both of you understood that whatever this was, it needed to grow at its own pace. You’d learned from the past, from the way things had unraveled before, and there was an unspoken agreement that you wouldn’t make the same mistakes again. You allowed the relationship to unfold naturally, letting each moment build upon the last, like carefully stacking stones into a tower that could withstand the test of time.
Sukuna, too, had changed. The man who once wore his emotions like armor, who had always been so guarded and intense, was different now. There was a softness to him that hadn’t been there before—a willingness to listen, to be patient, to let things unfold without forcing them into place. He no longer felt the need to control every aspect of his life, and that included his relationship with you. He had learned to let go, to trust that if this was meant to be, it would be.
And in that trust, something beautiful began to grow. Your conversations deepened, moving beyond the surface-level topics that had once dominated your interactions. You talked about your dreams, your fears, the things that kept you awake at night. Sukuna shared pieces of himself that he had kept hidden for so long, opening up in ways he never had before. And you, in turn, felt safe enough to do the same.
There were moments when the past would resurface, like shadows lingering at the edges of your newfound connection. Memories of heated arguments, of painful goodbyes, would flicker in your minds, reminding you of how things had once gone wrong. But instead of letting those memories drag you down, you faced them together, acknowledging the hurt while choosing to move forward.
It wasn’t always easy. There were still days when doubts crept in, when the fear of repeating past mistakes threatened to pull you apart. But each time, you chose to stay, to work through it rather than run away. And with each challenge you faced, the bond between you grew stronger, more resilient.
Sukuna, who had once been so afraid of vulnerability, found himself looking forward to the moments he spent with you. The walls he had built around himself slowly crumbled, replaced by a quiet confidence in what you were building together. He no longer needed to prove himself, to assert control over his emotions or over you. Instead, he allowed himself to simply be—with you, in the present, without the burden of past regrets or future expectations.
You, too, noticed the change in yourself. The tension that had once gnawed at your heart, the constant questioning of whether you were enough or if this was right, had eased. You felt more secure, more at peace with where you were and where you were going. You trusted Sukuna in a way you hadn’t before, not just because he had changed, but because you had changed too.
As the months passed, the connection between you deepened, solidified by the quiet moments of understanding and the shared experiences that had brought you closer together. There was a sense of contentment that neither of you had anticipated—a feeling that, for the first time in a long time, you were exactly where you were meant to be.
And so, you continued to meet, to grow together, allowing whatever this was to take shape in its own time. There was no rush, no urgency, only the quiet certainty that what you were building was worth the patience and the effort. You both knew that the past would always be a part of you, but it no longer defined you. Instead, it had become a foundation upon which you could build something new, something lasting.
In each other’s presence, you found a kind of peace that had once seemed elusive, and in that peace, you discovered the possibility of a future that was not just better than the past, but truly, deeply right.
Sukuna found himself looking forward to your meetings, the mundane moments that had once seemed trivial now holding a new significance. Whether it was a simple walk in the park, browsing through books together, or sharing a meal, these moments began to stitch together a new story between you, one that was quieter, more deliberate, and infinitely more meaningful.
But beneath the surface, Sukuna wrestled with his own emotions. The more time he spent with you, the more he realized just how much he had missed you—how much he had missed being close to someone who truly understood him. Yet, there was also the constant reminder that you didn’t remember him, that the memories of your past were locked away, possibly forever.
One afternoon, after you’d both finished a long walk along the river, you sat together on a bench, watching the water ripple in the sunlight. The conversation had lulled into a comfortable silence, and for a moment, Sukuna just watched you, taking in the way the light caught your hair, the serene expression on your face.
“Can I ask you something?” Sukuna finally said, breaking the silence.
You turned to him, nodding. “Of course.”
“Do you ever… feel like something’s missing? Like there’s a part of you that’s still out there, waiting to be found?”
You considered his question carefully before responding. “Sometimes.” you admitted. “There are moments when I feel like I’m on the edge of remembering something important, something that’s just out of reach. But I’ve learned to let go of the frustration. I’ve had to accept that those memories might never come back.”
Sukuna’s heart clenched at your words, the weight of your shared history pressing down on him. He wanted to tell you everything—to pour out the story of your love, the highs and lows, the way you had been everything to each other and how it had all fallen apart. But he held back, knowing that it wasn’t his place to force those memories on you.
Instead, he reached out and took your hand in his. “I don’t want to push you more than I already did.” he said quietly. “I just want you to know that I’m here, whatever happens. I’m not going anywhere this time.”
You squeezed his hand, offering him a gentle smile. “I know, Sukuna. And I appreciate that. I’ve come to trust you, even if I don’t remember our past. What matters to me now is the person you are today, the one I’m getting to know all over again.”
Those words gave Sukuna a sense of hope he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in a long time. He was no longer the man who had let his pride and anger destroy something precious. He had grown, learned from his mistakes, and now, he had a chance to show you that.
As the days passed, he became more intentional in his efforts to be there for you, to support you in ways he hadn’t before. He listened when you spoke, offered comfort when you needed it, and gave you space when you needed to process your thoughts. There was a quiet strength in the bond you were forming, a steady foundation that was being built brick by brick.
One evening, after you’d invited him over for dinner, you sat together on your couch, a comfortable silence settling between you after a long day. Sukuna glanced at you, his heart full of things he wanted to say but didn’t know how to put into words.
“I’ve been thinking….a lot.” you said suddenly, turning to face him. “About us.”
His breath caught in his throat, but he stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue. He could feel his heart pounding, the silence between you filled with unspoken tension. You looked at him tenderly, and those eyes—those eyes he had once loved so fiercely—held a warmth that stirred something deep within him. But this time, there was something different in your gaze, something he couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t the same love he remembered, the love that had once consumed both of you. It was softer, more distant, as if it had been tempered by time and the loss of memories.
Sukuna wasn’t sure what that look meant, but he longed for the days when your eyes had been filled with nothing but love for him. He yearned for the intensity, the passion that had once been theirs. But deep down, he knew those days were gone, that you had changed, just as he had. And even though he wished for the impossible, he understood that the love you had once shared might never return in the way it had before.
And yet, he couldn’t stop himself from hoping, from wanting you to look at him like that again, to feel that love again. But he knew, with a sinking certainty, that it was unlikely. Maybe this was his punishment, the price he had to pay for the mistakes he had made, for the years he had spent without you. Maybe fate was just that cruel, giving him a second chance only to remind him of what he had lost.
“I don’t remember our past, Sukuna.” you said softly, breaking the silence. Your voice was gentle, but there was a sincerity in it that made Sukuna’s chest tighten. “But I do know that I feel something when I’m with you. It’s not just comfort or friendship… it’s more. I don’t know how to explain it, but it feels right, being with you.”
Sukuna’s heart swelled with emotion, a mix of relief and longing coursing through him. He had waited so long to hear those words, to know that there was still something between you, even if it wasn’t exactly what he had expected. It wasn’t the grand declaration of love he had secretly hoped for, but it was something—a spark, a glimmer of the connection that had once bound you together.
He searched your face, looking for any sign of the emotions he had once known so well. But all he found was that same tender expression, tinged with a hint of uncertainty. It wasn’t love, not yet. But it was something. And for now, that was enough.
“I’m glad you feel that way.” he said, his voice thick with the emotions he was struggling to keep in check. “I don’t want to rush things, or push you to remember something that might never come back. I just… I want to be here with you, whatever that means.”
You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I want that too, Sukuna. I don’t know what the future holds, but I’d like to find out—together.”
He felt a weight lift off his shoulders, the heavy burden of his regrets and fears easing, if only a little. This was far from the ending he had imagined, but it was a beginning, a chance to rebuild what had been lost. And maybe, just maybe, if he was patient and if he allowed things to unfold naturally, there could be something new between you, something that was just as meaningful as what you had once shared.
As you both stood there, the world around you fading into the background, Sukuna couldn’t help but think that perhaps fate wasn’t as cruel as he had feared. Maybe this was his second chance—not to reclaim the past, but to create something new, something even better than what had been before. And for the first time in years, he allowed himself to hope that this time, he wouldn’t let it slip through his fingers.
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epilogue 
A few weeks after your heartfelt conversation with Sukuna, you find yourself at a park on a sunny afternoon. Sukuna had asked you to meet him there, mentioning that his nephew, Yuji, would be joining. You had heard a lot about Yuji from Sukuna—how the kid was full of energy, always getting into something, and how Sukuna had taken on a sort of protective role in his life. You were curious to see this side of Sukuna, the man who had once been all sharp edges and intensity.
As you approach the park, you spot Sukuna first, sitting on a bench with a somewhat exasperated look on his face. Beside him is a young boy, who is clearly trying to balance on the back of the bench with one foot, arms outstretched like he’s performing some kind of circus act.
“Careful, you brat.” Sukuna warns, his tone stern but not unkind. “You’re going to break your neck.”
Yuji, grinning from ear to ear, just laughs and hops down with a flourish. “I’m invincible, Uncle Sukuna!”
“Yeah, well, let’s not test that theory.” Sukuna mutters, but there’s a fondness in his voice that catches you off guard. “Your mom and dad will kill me.”
You approach them, smiling as Yuji notices you and waves enthusiastically. “Hi! You must be the one Uncle Sukuna’s always talking about!”
“Yuji!” Sukuna snaps, looking mortified. “I do not—”
Yuji doesn’t miss a beat, cutting him off. “He totally does! He’s always like, ‘I wonder if she’s gonna remember me today,’ or ‘Maybe she’ll cook something nice again.’”
Sukuna groans, rubbing a hand over his face. “Kid, do you ever stop talking?”
You can’t help but laugh at the exchange, and Sukuna’s embarrassment only makes it funnier. “Nice to meet you, Yuji!” you say, crouching down to his level. “Your uncle’s right, though. You should be careful on that bench.”
Yuji shrugs, his smile never fading. “Uncle Sukuna’s always careful too, even though he acts all tough. But he’s really soft, especially when I get hurt. You should see him panic when I stub my toe.”
“Yuji!” Sukuna’s voice is a mix of frustration and resignation, clearly regretting bringing his nephew along.
You stand up, grinning at Sukuna. “I see you’ve got a little soft spot, huh?”
“Don’t listen to him.” Sukuna mutters, glaring at Yuji, who just laughs and runs off toward the playground. “He’s a menace.”
“Sure, sure.” you tease, nudging Sukuna lightly. “But you love it.”
Sukuna sighs, watching Yuji with an expression that’s a mix of exasperation and affection. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta keep him out of trouble.”
You slip your hand into Sukuna’s, squeezing it gently. “You’re doing a great job, Uncle Sukuna.”
He gives you a sidelong glance, the corners of his mouth twitching upward. “Don’t start calling me that too.”
“No promises.” you reply, laughing as you both watch Yuji play, his laughter filling the air. It’s a side of Sukuna you never expected to see, and you find yourself growing more and more fond of the man who, despite his rough edges, is soft in all the right places.
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sugugasm · 3 months ago
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BET | love and deepspace
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⟡ tags : underground boxer! sylus + reader — sylus isn’t afraid of going all in when it comes to you.
ミ★ content warning : fem! reader uses she/her prns, mentions of blood & injuries, mentions of female anatomy as well as male anatomy, oral fem! receive, gentle to rough sex, pet names like bby, dove, kitten, honey, 5.0K WORD COUNT
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you step into the dimly lit underground boxing gym, the air thick with the scent of sweat, cigarette smoke, and leather. it’s a seedy place, hidden in the heart of the city’s most notorious neighborhood, where the law doesn’t dare to tread. the crowd tonight is a mix of rough characters - bikers with gang patches on their jackets, local gangsters with glares and expensive watches, shady high-rollers in suits looking to place big bets on the illegal fights.
as you navigate through the throng of people, you spot him in the corner, preparing for his match. sylus - the man who happened to be your ex-boyfriend . . oh, and only the most feared bare-knuckled boxer in the underground circuit. he was a sight to behold, all rippling muscles and newfound tattoos, with messy silver hair that gleamed under the fluorescent lights. you watch as he methodically wraps his hands, his intense red eyes focused on the task.
your history with sylus is complicated, to say the least. you met him two years ago at a biker rally, drawn to his bad-boy charm and undeniable charisma. he swept you off your feet with his daredevil antics on his custom harley and his smooth talking ways. but sylus’s world was always filled with danger, violence, and illegal activities. as the leader of onychinus, the city’s most notorious motorcycle club, he ran an empire built on illicit evol weapons, protocore deals, and underground fighting.
at first, the thrill of it all was intoxicating - the adrenaline rush of riding on the back of his bike, the wild parties at the onychinus clubhouse, watching him dominate in the ring. but as time went on, you grew tired of the constant chaos and the fear that one day, sylus’s risky lifestyle would catch up to him. you wanted stability, a future - things that sylus scoffed at. ‘i live in the moment, babe,’ he would say with that infuriating smirk. ‘and right now, all i want is you.’
but it wasn’t enough. six months ago, after a particularly brutal fight that left sylus battered and bleeding, you reached your breaking point. you told him you couldn’t watch him destroy himself anymore, that you needed more than he could give you. sylus, stubborn and proud as ever, refused to change. ‘this is who i am,’ he growled. ‘so take it or leave it.’ so you left, walking away from the man you loved, determined to build a life free from the violence and uncertainty.
now, seeing him again after all this time, you feel a mix of emotions stirring within you. anger, hurt, frustration . . . but also a undeniable pull of attraction and longing. as if sensing your presence, sylus glances up, his red eyes locking with yours. a slow, confident smirk spreads across his handsome face as he saunters over to you, the crowd parting before him.
“well, well. look who it is,” he drawls, looking you up and down appreciatively. “didn’t expect to see you here tonight, [★]. come to watch me dominate the ring as usual?”
you scoff and cross your arms, determined not to let him see how much his presence affects you. “i’m not here for you, sylus. i’m just here to collect on some bets.”
he chuckles, a deep, rich sound that sends shivers down your spine. “sure you are, sweetheart. keep telling yourself that.”
sylus takes a step closer, invading your personal space. he smells like musk and sandalwood, a scent that brings back memories of stolen moments and passionate nights. “i miss you, you know,” he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. “everything’s been so boring without you around to keep me on my toes.”
you try to stay strong, but you can feel your resolve wavering. damn him and his charm. “i’m not here to rehash the past, sylus. what do you want?”
his eyes glint with a challenge. “make a bet with me - when i win the championship belt tonight, you give me another shot. a chance to prove that we’re meant to be together.”
you laugh in disbelief. “you can’t be serious. we’re done, sy. i’m not falling for your games again.”
“who says it’s a game?” he counters, his expression turning serious. “i know i messed up, [★]. i wasn’t ready before, but i am now. i want you back in my life. i need you.”
you hesitate, torn between your lingering feelings and your better judgment. sylus is a force of nature, wild and untamed. being with him is like dancing on the edge of a razor - thrilling but dangerous. can you really risk your heart again?
“and what do i get if you lose?” you ask, buying yourself time to think.
sylus flashes you a cocky grin. “you know i never lose, kitten. but if by some miracle i do . . i’ll leave you alone. for good. unless you decide you can’t resist me and come crawling back.”
you snort at his arrogance, even as a part of you wonders if he might be right. sylus has always had a hold on you, an undeniable magnetism that draws you in against your will, “fine,” you hear yourself saying, almost as if from a distance. “you’ve got a deal.”
his grin widens, triumphant. “get ready to come back to where you belong, [★] - with me.”
the crowd starts to get louder, chanting and cheering as the lights flicker and dim. it’s almost time for the main event - sylus’s championship fight. he starts to walk towards the ring, but pauses and turns back to face you.
“watch closely now, honey,” he says with a wink. “i’m about to show you what you’ve been missing.”
with that, he strides away, his movements graceful and predatory. you watch him go, your heart pounding in your chest.
what had you gotten yourself into?
as the crowd’s chanting reaches a fevered pitch, sylus steps into the ring, the picture of coiled power and raw aggression. his opponent, a hulking brute known as ‘the mauler’, glares at him from across the mat, pounding his meaty fists together in a show of intimidation. but sylus just smirks, unfazed. he’s taken down bigger, badder fighters than this guy.
the referee calls them to the center, going over the rules - not that there are many in the underground circuit. “no biting, no eye gouging, fight ends with a knockout or tapout. keep it clean . . ish. touch gloves and come out swinging!”
sylus bumps his taped fists against the mauler’s, staring him down with those intense red eyes. then they’re backing away, the air crackling with tension as the crowd falls silent in anticipation.
the bell sounds and the mauler charges forward with a roar, swinging wildly. but sylus is too quick, too skilled. he slips and weaves, dodging the heavy blows, letting his opponent overextend himself. sylus fires off a rapid jab - cross combo, snapping the mauler’s head back and drawing first blood from his nose.
the big man snarls and redoubles his efforts, trying to use his size to his advantage, to trap sylus against the ropes and pummel him. but sylus is like smoke, always just out of reach. he targets the mauler’s weak spots with surgical precision - a knife-hand to the solar plexus to crush his wind, a heel kick to the floating rib, an elbow smash to the jaw.
each blow lands with devastating impact, chipping away at the mauler’s formidable stamina and sending the crowd into a frenzy. they chant sylus’s name like a war cry, thrilling at the sight of the chiseled, tattooed demigod of the ring in his element.
you watch in breathless awe, pulse racing, body heating. damn him. he’s magnificent like this - a perfect fighting machine, all fluid grace and controlled violence. it’s enough to make you forget why you walked away, to let yourself imagine those powerful hands on your body once more . .
a pained grunt snaps you back to the moment as the mauler finally lands a solid hit, a haymaker to sylus’s ribs that sends him staggering. your heart leaps into your throat. but sylus just shakes it off with a feral grin, spitting blood and bouncing on his toes as he beckons for more.
they trade blows in a brutal, lightning-fast exchange, neither giving quarter. the mauler is flagging but still dangerous, pure grit keeping him on his feet. sylus bleeds from a cut over his eye but barely seems to feel it, an unholy light in his gaze as he scents victory.
he presses his advantage with a dizzying flurry of strikes, driving the mauler back . . back . . until he’s pinned against the turnbuckle. sylus hammers his torso without mercy - left hook to the liver, right uppercut to the chin, again, again. the mauler’s knees buckle and sylus steps back, letting him crumple to the canvas.
the crowd erupts as the ref counts it out. at “ten,” sylus throws his hands up in triumph, basking in the adulation. his eyes find yours across the room and the heat in them makes your breath stop. in three long strides he’s out of the ring and hauling you into his arms, crushing his mouth to yours in a searing kiss.
for a moment, you forget where you are. forget the mob of rowdy spectators whistling and catcalling. forget every reason you swore you'd never let him back into your heart. all you know is the demanding press of his lips, the steel - cable strength of his blood-slicked body, the intoxicating rush of his victory and your surrender . . .
“looks like i won our bet, babe,” he says smugly, smirking down at you. “hope you’re ready to pay up.”
you scowl, hating how easily he affected you. “one. drink. that was the deal.”
sylus touches his tongue to the seam of his split lip, gaze roving hungrily over you. “oh, i’m just getting started.”
he drags you through the throng of well-wishers and sycophants, his grip on your hand unbreakable. outside, the night air is cool against your overheated skin, charged with tension and the distant growl of engines.
sylus leads you to his pride and joy - that sleek demon of a harley crouched by the curb. the way he straddles the throbbing machine is blatantly sexual, all hard muscles and black leather. he jerks his head at the space behind him.
“c’mon - you know the drill, hop on.”
your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.
your hesitation lasts a mere heartbeat before you throw a leg over the bike and wrap your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his back. the rumble of the engine between your thighs and the furnace heat of his body shreds the last of your resistance.
then, sylus kicks off and you’re flying, the city lights a neon blur as he opens the throttle. your pulse pounds in time with the roar of the pipes, excitement and desire a heady drug in your veins. by the time he screeches to a stop outside a dingy saloon on the outskirts of town, you’re dizzy with need.
inside, the bar is a den of sin and swagger, all scuffed leather and polished chrome and clinking bottles. eyes follow sylus with a mix of fear and reverence as he stalks to a booth in the back, one possessive hand at the small of your back.
he orders a whiskey, neat, and your favorite poison, not bothering to ask what you want. at your raised eyebrow, he shrugs.
“i remember.”
two words. but the weight of history and unspoken emotion behind them squeezes your heart. your fingers tremble slightly as you raise your glass in a mock toast.
“to your victory. and my reckless wager.”
sylus’ gaze is molten as he clinks his tumbler against yours, gaze holding you captive over the rim as he tosses back the smooth liquid. the slight burn of the alcohol is nothing compared to the smolder of his stare.
“what are we doing, sy?” you ask into the charged quiet, liquid courage loosening your tongue. “why now, after all this time?”
a muscle ticks in his jaw. he looks down, spinning his empty glass, broad shoulders rigid with tension.
“i fucked up.”
his voice is low, raw with a vulnerability you've never heard from him. your breath snags.
“i thought i needed the rush, the rep, the respect. and yeah, maybe i did, for a while. but none of it meant shit without you.” slowly, giving you every chance to pull away, he reaches for your hand — lacing his scarred, tape-wrapped fingers with yours, “i was a coward. i pushed you away because i was scared shitless of how bad i wanted you - needed you. needed your strength, your goodness. you made me want to be better. and it truly fucking terrified me.”
his grip tightens, almost painfully. anchoring you to him.
“losing you . . it broke me, [★]. made me realize that the only thing i’m actually afraid of is living without you.”
sylus swallows hard, his throat working. when he looks up at you, his eyes are blazing with fierce intent.
“i know i don’t deserve another shot. i know i need to earn back your trust. but i swear to whoever may hold my fate, if you give me a chance, i will spend every waking day proving that you’re my whole damn world.”
your heart is a wild bird in your chest, frantic and yearning. you search his face, finding only sincerity and aching tenderness beneath the bruises and blood.
“i never stopped loving you,” you confess, voice breaking. “no matter how hard i tried to hate you . . i couldn’t let you go.”
sylus makes a rough sound, halfway between a growl and a groan. then he’s kissing you, deep and urgent and saying everything he can't put into words. you fall into him, all hunger and desperation, the levee finally breaking on the flood of your need.
“take me home,” you gasp into his mouth, fingers curling in the sweat-damp silk of his hair.
“i thought you’d never ask, dove.”
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the anticipation is a living thing as sylus speeds through the lamp-lit streets, the throaty growl of his harley between your thighs a heady reminder of the man commanding the machine. by the time he pulls into the cavernous garage beneath his loft, your body is humming, every nerve ending alight with need.
sylus is on you the moment you dismount, crowding you back against the rough brick wall, his large frame enveloping yours. his kiss is searing, possession and passion, strong hands gripping your hips as he grinds into you. you moan into his mouth, fingers scrabbling for purchase on his leather-clad shoulders, craving more.
“been dreaming about this,” he rasps against your lips, his voice like gravel and whiskey, igniting heat in your veins. “having you back in my arms, in my bed. fuck, [★], need you so bad it's like a sickness.”
“then take me,” you breathe, emboldened by the blatant hunger shining in those crimson eyes. “i’m here, sylus. i’m yours.”
something animalistic unfurls behind his gaze, a primal sort of satisfaction that has you clenching with want. in a burst of movement, he hoists you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his lean hips as he strides purposefully to the industrial elevator that will carry you to his domain.
the short ride up is a haze of frantic kisses and roving hands, two years’ worth of pent-up longing seeking outlet. by the time sylus kicks open the door to his loft, you’re both panting, clothes askew and lips kiss-bruised. he carries you straight to the bedroom, a cavern of shadows and silver moonlight spilling across rumpled black silk sheets. when he lays you down in the center of that decadent expanse, the reverence in his touch steals your breath. his battle-scarred fingers shake slightly as they skim over your curves, learning you anew.
“so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, crimson gaze tracking hungrily over your body like he's committing every detail to memory. “can’t believe i almost lost this . . lost you . .”
“never,” you whisper fiercely, reaching up to cup his angular jaw. “i’m here, sylus. right where i belong. and i’m not going anywhere.”
he turns his head to press a fervent kiss to your palm, the heat of his breath making you shiver as his lips graze your fingers — and ever so gently, he bites. then slowly, deliberately, he divests you of your clothes, unwrapping you like a gift. you echo his actions, baring him inch by glorious inch to your avid gaze.
sylus’s body is a work of art, all chiseled muscle and inked skin, a roadmap of violence and survival. you take your time tracing the ridges and hollows, the scars and scrolling tattoos, familiarizing yourself with this new landscape of him. he shudders beneath your questing touch, eyes fluttering shut, a low rumble building in his chest.
“[★],” he grits out, and fuck, how you’ve missed the way he says your name, guttural and raw, like a prayer and a plea. “please, baby . . need to taste you.”
“yes,” you hiss, already aching, empty. “please, sylus.”
granted, he descends on you like a man starved, that talented mouth charting a path of fire over your sensitized flesh. he maps every curve and valley with lips and teeth and tongue, each nip and suck and lap stoking the inferno building in your core.
when he finally settles between your trembling thighs, the first bold stroke of his tongue punches the air from your lungs, your spine arching involuntarily. he groans in appreciation, strong hands splaying your thighs wider, opening you fully to his voracious appetite.
“fuck, i missed this,” he rasps against your slick folds, the vibration of his words making you keen. “missed the way you taste, the sounds you make when i devour this sweet cunt. could feast on you for hours, little one . .”
you whimper breathlessly, one hand fisting in the sheets, the other tangling in his silver hair, holding him to you. sylus takes the encouragement for what it is, sealing his mouth over your aching flesh and suckling greedily. stars erupt in your eyes, pleasure rioting through your veins as he works you ruthlessly, adding clever fingers to his oral assault. he curls them just right, rubbing that secret spot that has you seeing god, all while his wicked tongue paints obscene promises on your clit.
“s-sy, fuck!” you wail, back bowing, thighs clamping around his ears as he drives you higher and higher. “oh god, yes, just like that! don’t stop, please, i’m gonna’ cum . . fuck, baby-”
he doubles his efforts, a man possessed, growling his own pleasure into your core. “that’s it, my love,” he urges gutturally between long, lewd licks. “go ahead and give it to me, wanna’ feel you drench my face, want you gushing on my tongue . .”
his filthy encouragement hurls you over the edge with a strangled scream, release slamming into you like a freight train. you shatter spectacularly, pulsing and clenching around his thrusting fingers, slick gushing into his eager mouth as he works you through the most intense orgasm of your life.
when you finally drift back down to earth, aftershocks still rippling through you, sylus is grinning up at you wolfishly from between your thighs, his beard glistening obscenely with your essence. “fucking incredible,” he rumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your still-twitching center. “could watch you fall apart on my tongue forever and never get tired of it.”
“get up here,” you demand breathlessly, tugging him to you. he comes willingly, settling his considerable bulk over you, caging you beneath miles of warm, hard muscle.
you claim his mouth in a filthy kiss, moaning at the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. he responds with matching hunger, hips rocking into the cradle of your thighs, the thick ridge of his erection a brand against your sensitive flesh.
“please,” you whimper into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “need you inside me, sylus. been too long, i want it . .”
“fuck,” he snarls, the words seeming to snap his restraint. “far too long, honey. be patient, you know i will.” slowly, giving you time to adjust, he notches himself at your entrance and pushes forward, gasping harshly at the tight, wet heat of you enveloping him. “goddamn,” he grits out through clenched teeth, forehead pressed to yours. “silly me. i almost forgot how fucking perfect you feel. like coming home.”
“yes,” you moan, reveling in the familiar stretch and burn of his thick length entering your body. “missed this so much . . missed you . . love you, sylus, so fucking much.”
“i love you too,” he rasps, pulling nearly all the way out before surging back in, starting a deep, rolling rhythm that has your toes curling. “i never stopped, never will. you’re only for me, [★]. only me.”
you lose yourselves to the timeless dance, bodies moving in perfect synchronicity, rediscovering every perfect angle and hidden sweet spot. sylus takes his time, building you back up with long, measured strokes, whispering words of worship into your skin, branding you with his love.
“so good,” he groans, hitching your leg higher on his hip, sinking impossibly deeper. “could stay buried in this tight little pussy forever. never wanna leave.”
“don’t.” you gasp, fingers clawing at his flexing back, desperate for more. “stay — harder, sylus, fuck me harder. wanna’ be able to feel it tomorrow.”
with a low, approving growl, sylus complies, snapping his hips faster, driving into your yielding body with the piston precision of the machine he rides. the wet, obscene slap of flesh fills the room, punctuated by your escalating moans and cries.
“i’m not gonna last,” he warns, rhythm faltering. “too good, too fucking good. tell me you’re close, baby . .”
“s-so close,” you pant, the coil in your belly wound to the breaking point. “just a little more - fuck, right there, sy . . o-oh my —”
sylus hammers into you, grunting with the effort, sweat sheening his skin. he wedges a hand between your straining bodies, finding your swollen clit and rubbing tight circles. “cum on my cock,” he demands, voice strained. “let me feel that pussy grip me, milk me . .” his words are your undoing, hurling you into oblivion with a keening wail. your inner muscles seize around him, rippling and fluttering, trying to pull him deeper as you drench his driving length in release.
“fuck, yes!” sylus roars, pistoning wildly, chasing his own end. “gonna’ - ah, shit, kitty, i’m cumming!” his climax overtakes him with a force that borders on violence, his cock jerking and pulsing as he spills himself deep in your still-spasming core, painting your inner walls with thick ropes of his seed. you mewl weakly in blissed-out overstimulation, aftershocks rolling through you as he fills you to the brim.
finally spent, sylus collapses onto you, taking care not to crush you with his bulk. you cuddle as sweat and other fluids cool on your skin, hearts gradually slowing in tandem. he’s still stuffed deep inside you and you clench involuntarily around his now-softening length, loving the way he groans, overused nerves sparking. “keep that up and we’ll be going again real soon,” he warns playfully, nuzzling into your neck.
you huff a laugh, carding your fingers through his damp hair. “yeah, yeah,” you tease. “we’ve got time now, sylus. all the time in the world. i’m not going anywhere.”
he raises his head to look at you, crimson eyes soft and full of wonder. “damn right you’re not,” he rumbles, pressing a tender kiss to your lips. “i’m never letting you out of my sight again. you’re stuck with me now, sweetheart.”
“eh, could be worse,” you quip, grinning up at him. “i think i can handle being stuck with you. it’s only forever, after all.”
“forever,” sylus echoes solemnly, like an oath. “i like the sound of that. you and me. binded as one.”
“ . . . and loving each other stupid every chance we get,” you finish impishly, wiggling your eyebrows.
he barks a laugh, the joyful, uninhibited sound making your heart soar. “oh, that is definitely part of the plan,” he assures you, a wicked gleam in his eye. “gotta’ make up for lost time, don’t we?”
“mmhm, that we do,” you agree readily, warmth suffusing you. “better get started on that. forever’s not getting any longer.”
“as my lady commands,” sylus murmurs, capturing your mouth again as he begins to stir inside you once more.
and as passion ignites anew, the promise of countless tomorrows enfolding you like a benediction, you know this is just the beginning of the ups and downs.
because this love, tempered by loss and longing, by time and truth . . it’s unbreakable. a bond that even the harshest trials will only serve to strengthen.
and with sylus by your side, his heart in your keeping as surely as yours rests in his scarred and steady hands . .
. . you know you can weather any storm.
forever, and then some.
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★ SUGUGASM 2024 | please don’t copy, translate or share my work on other platforms without my consent. tagging @ramonathinks <3
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andhumanslovedstories · 3 months ago
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I've been running this writing experiment lately to cut out phrases like "I felt" in my fiction writing. Like I was looking at a sentence in a draft that said, "he felt as if character's eyes were pinning him in place." And then I was like, "well, does he think that or is it true? As a result of this person watching him, he's froze. It's not like a thing, it is that thing."
Oh and "almost"! I'm always going, "He felt almost relieved that it hadn't happened." Well, did he feel better that it didn't happen or didn't he? Or "somewhat", I'm always going, "she felt somewhat perturbed."
And like none of that is wrong, to be clear. I don't know if it'd improve your writing, I don't even know if it'll improve my writing, but I use this sentence structure all the time so every viewpoint is from a voice that thinks about what it thinks, hedges its statements, and offers the same ability for wry little jokes formatted in the exact same way. And I have a lot of writing like that and I think (!) that they're good, but read as a whole, I'm like, "god, they all sound the same." Like there's one melody that I write songs to, so even with different lyrics, it's almost (!) the same song. Something I've been struggling with in regards to my writing and why I've felt so blocked is how boring I found writing my usual way. I'd read something and enjoy the individual parts of it, but then I'd step back and I didn't like the whole. And I got good at this enough at seeing that I didn't like it to do it in real time as I was writing, which as you can imagine didn't improve the process of writing because now I was bored AND dejected about being bored.
There's this sentence-level structure fact that I use unconsciously. A pattern I find easy is short sentence, short sentence, short sentence, long sentence. So I write that. "He [verbed]. He [verbed]. Then he [verbed]. As he [verbed] to his [consequence], he [verbed] that [noun] was [statement of condition]." Which could work, it often does make for a nice rhythm, but it's something I reach for often because it's easier for me.
Just last sentence, I originally typed, "I find it easier for me." But if what I mean is "using this pattern is less effort than another pattern," then it's easier for me. One voice is hedging its bets and the other asserting. Either is fine! But they're different! And, again, GOD you would not believe how many words I've cut out of this paragraph as I write it. I'm so chatty. I love using twelve words when six will do. And that gives my writing a specific tone to my ear.
So if I am bored of that tone, why not try using just the six words? Why be understated? Why be afraid of stronger opinions? So right now with my fiction, I'm experimenting with cutting out as many self-reflective words as I can. Sometime you do need to draw attention to the face that this is the character's interpretation, but like you definitely don't need to do it as much as I naturally want to do it. You don't need to always go out of your way to allow the possibility that the narrative voice is wrong. During editing, I trim the weaker ones (I originally typed, "what I consider the weaker ones" Is that more accurate?). But I think them being there in the first place shifts my language which shifts my character's which shifts my plot. It's sentence structure all the way down!!
(this barely applies to my writing on here, btw. i try to do good but yknow this is a tumblr blog. i'm not trying to get a lit mag to accept it.)
Anyway blah blah (chatty!) the point is I've been trying to write in a way opposite of my interests. Something that doesn't take itself too seriously, that emphasizes EMOTION and ACTION instead of minimizing it, and that clips through scenes at a good pace. Doing this been amazingly fun. I've been having such a good time doing it. I am writing so much because I really enjoy doing it. The process of writing is so fun again.
This post is about two things. One is my new mood stabilizer and therapy day camp. The other is about the benefit of pretending to be MXTX.
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star-girl-05 · 4 months ago
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Texting Prank
Rafe Cameron x Reader
~★~❤︎~✦~
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“Come on Y/n it’ll be hilarious” Sarah egged on with Kiara quickly agreeing with her. For the last four minutes the two of them have been trying to get you to do this texting prank they saw on Tiktok. Apparently Sarah did it with John B and it was very entertaining so now she wants you to do it to Rafe.
You weren't opposed to teasing Rafe but breaking up with him for a prank seemed a little harsh and you doubt he would find it funny. Yet here you are letting the girls help you craft the perfect breakup text. As soon as you hit send you could practically feel the handprints he was bound to leave on your ass when you tell him it's a prank. 
It only took two minutes for Rafe to respond, 'baby don’t mess with me like this'
You wanted to cave instantly but, Sarah yanked the phone out of your hand before you had a chance. She's instantly texting him back, not allowing you to see her reply until she presses send. 
'Don’t make this harder than it has to be, I just need my space'
You were quickly reaching for your phone. How could Sarah say that? After that text your phone was blowing up. 
“Sarah give me my phone” you were desperate to text Rafe that it was just a joke before he went to crazy.
“No you gotta wait till they’ve gone fully insane then you tell them the truth”
“Jesus Sarah your psycho” Kie chimed in making you shake your head in agreement. She truly was for messing with Rafe like this. Though all the consequences are going to fall on you.
“I love Rafe but do we really want to mess with the fragile stability that is his emotions” Your trying to get Sarah give up but she's just as stubborn as her brother. Finding joy in the predicament she's placed you in.
“She has a point” Kie agreed, Sarah just rolled her eyes saying that made it more fun. In moments like these you realize just how similar Sarah and Rafe are. The two of them loved messing with each other, this was just Sarah's newest way to get under his skin. 
“Jesus I think he's going to explode” she shoves the phone screen in your face “Look at these messages your dating a real psycho” 
“Yeah but he's my psycho so give me my phone back” Sarah finally hands you your phone, texting him right away that it's a prank but just as your thumb hovers over the send button A knock sounds at the door. 
Then his voice sounds out “LET ME IN NOW!” your moving before he finishes his sentence hoping if you get there fast enough your punishment tonight won’t be that bad. You already know you won’t be able to walk tomorrow and definitely not wear a bikini for the next week. As soon as you open the door Rafe is pushing you against the nearest wall. Once again a phone being shoved in your face. “Tell me pretty girl do you think this is funny” his eyes move from you to the girls who are standing on the stairs. 
“I take it this was your stupid idea” his question is directed at Sarah giving a nasty look before he sets his eyes back on you. “What have I told you about listening to Sarah, guess I’m going to have to remind you what happens when you mess with me.” He's hauling you over his shoulder making you gasp. With a hit on your ass he walks out off the house, shoving you into hi car and driving you back to his house. 
Sarah called you the next morning to make sure you were still alive. With a raspy voice you confirmed you're still alive but you're not going to be able to go the party tomorrow.  
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fangswbenefits · 1 year ago
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Discovery
Summary: Miguel tries to fix the damage of his obsession for you, only to discover a secret you’ve been keeping that will change everything…
Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x spider-woman!reader
Word count: 3k
18+. Miguel POV. Obsessed and jealous Miguel. Inexperienced/In*ocent/V*rgin reader. Mast*rbation. Voye*rism (have to thank this anon).
Part 1 (if you’re just starting out) - Previous Part
Miguel O’Hara took pride in being able to keep his emotions at check.
For the most part, at least.
But when it came to you, he constantly found his reason at war with his feelings.
The way you were eyeing him expectantly, made his stomach flip.
“Is there something wrong?”
Many things.
For once, he didn’t want to lie to you. However, he dreaded what might happen in case he told you the truth.
Shaking his head, he took your pad in his hands, and glanced over at his watch.
100%
He wanted to just open the file and finally know who this Tom individual was, but he could see a faint frown settle on your face.
“Why can’t I have access to the settings?” you asked, coming to stand by his side to glare at the lit up screen.
He really didn’t want to lie.
“I needed to adjust the prototype first, before giving you full access,” he managed to say.
Great, Miguel.
Your eyes moved to glare at him. “You could have informed me of that.”
He could only nod, he tapped and scrolled through the interface, overriding the block he had placed on it a couple of days ago.
You didn’t seem upset in the slightest. If anything, it you seemed… tired? Sleepy?
“It’s done,” Miguel said, handing the pad back to you. “The interference was probably a mic, by the way.”
As you fought back a yawn, your face twisted into confusion. “A mic?”
Miguel was trying to play it casually, hoping that it would be enough to deflect this issue altogether.
But you… you were not easily detracted.
“Why is there a mic in my suit?”
His heart rate had nearly doubled, and he felt his sweat grow cold as your gaze intensified.
Then, he saw you straighten up as if hit by a sudden realisation.
“You… don’t trust me?” your voice was but a whisper and you started backing away from him. “You’re spying on me?”
Somehow, the conclusion you had drawn was almost as appalling as the truth.
“No! That is not why.”
“Then why?”
Miguel pressed his lips together, and you took his silence as an answer.
“Oh… you really don’t trust me, do you?” you went on, tears welling in your eyes. “I mean… Jessica did tell me you were against me joining Spider Society… I just… thought she wasn’t being serious…”
Miguel stepped closer, feeling a surge of indignation. “That was before I realised your potential!”
You blinked your tears away angrily. “You’re not even denying it.”
He let out an exasperated sigh. “I had my doubts at first, yes. Your inexperience, for example. But Jess quickly convinced me to take you in,” he continued, knowing that he sounded desperate at this point. “You are a very talented spider, and I realised that nearly right away.”
Then your eyes widened all of a sudden as if you had just realised something daunting.
Miguel felt his stomach flip, already anticipating more something much worse.
“Oh… oh… you — you sent Jessica to my dimension because of Tom…” you said, visibly shaken. “He’s subject A. You… you… woah!”
Miguel felt control slip through his fingers with each accusation you threw at him.
There was no point denying it, and he didn’t want to lie to you. If anything, he only sought to do damage control.
But your usual calm and sweet demeanor had long vanished.
“Who do you think Tom is?” you said between gritted teeth, clenching your fists at your sides. “Some… some secret weapon against Spider Society? Is that it?”
It was evident from your reaction that he clearly wasn’t that.
“Listen, I d-”
But you immediately cut him off, tears streaking down your face. “You want to know who he really is? Do you?”
In truth, he did. However, not at the expense of your emotional stability. Not like this. Everything was going sideways and he felt petrified.
“You don’t have to.”
“I’ll tell you!” you spat, hurt swelling in your voice. “Three days after I got bitten by that spider, I was struggling to get the hang of all the changes.” You began pacing nervously around the room, no longer looking at him. “I was heading toward a robbery site and… Tom was there… the criminals had dynamite and were threatening to blow up the building,” your voice cracked momentarily and you took a deep breath before continuing. “In an effort to get him out of there, I shot my web at his chest, but lost control and balance, and sent him flying across the street as the explosives went off…”
Miguel could only stare from a distance, feeling the frustration in your words.
You halted and glared at him, lips quivering and more tears spilling. “Tom broke his arm and suffered a serious concussion. Because of me.”
He opened his mouth to offer words of comfort, but decided not to interrupt.
“I grew up with Tom. He is — was my best friend,” you sniffled, lowering you gaze. “I even had feelings for him at one point, which was ridiculous… he was too good for me, anyway.”
Miguel took a few steps in your direction, wanting to convince you otherwise, but you immediately retreated away from him.
“Thankfully, he managed to fully recover. No one found out it had been me who caused it in the first place… everyone just assumed it happened because of the explosion…” you mumbled, before crossing your arms and hugging yourself, showing him you had done this multiple times before in search for comfort. “And I was a coward… I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the truth… so I removed myself from his life.”
A tense silence followed.
Nothing could have prepared Miguel for this revelation, and he couldn’t help but to feel a wave of sympathy for you wash down on him.
You then eyed him. “I don’t want your pity. I deserve this. I was never a decent spider-woman and-”
He quickly stopped you. “That is absolutely not true and you are not a coward.”
“Oh, but I am. When Jessica approached me with the offer to join you, I didn’t even think twice,” you confessed. “I’d do anything to spend as much time away from my dimension as possible.”
“You still perform your duties, as far as I know,” he pointed out rationally.
You let out a pained groan. “Because I have to! I’d much rather stay in the lab, piecing things together and be useful in other ways.”
“You could have told me.”
This time, you frowned and Miguel realised such expression didn’t suit you. At all.
“I didn’t want to. I didn’t have to. This is something I’m ashamed of.” You then pointed at his watch. “Your file won’t tell you any of this, and I really wish you hadn’t gotten involved, because this was my story to tell.”
Your words pierced through him like sharp knives, and he realised he had not only gone too far, but had also managed to hurt you in the process.
“If there is anyone here who understands what you are going through, it’s me,” he began carefully. “I know how it feels to want to do the right thing, only for the consequences to be disastrous.”
He watched your face soften ever so slightly, and you didn’t flinch away from him when he came to stand right in front of you.
“I’m really sorry that I overstepped the line,” he said softly. “I really care about you. That is the reason why I had the mic in your suit and why Jessica went looking for Tom.”
A half-truth, he figured. He couldn’t flat out say the actual reason. How would he even explain that he was obsessed with you? How could that justify any of this?
Simply put, it couldn’t.
And you would resent him.
So, he settled for a half-truth. He did care about you. Immensely. More than he could possibly reason with. But he just couldn’t have you know how much he wanted you to be with him to the point of extreme obsession.
Especially not after discovering this secret of yours.
He had to win you over.
“There is no one who can understand how hou feel better than me,” he whispered, cradling your face in his hands, tilting it enough to have your eyes meet his.
“But… you’re the Miguel O’Hara… you’re so… ” your voiced trailed off.
“Spider Society exists because of my mistake. Many people died at my hands, even if it was unintentional,” said with a sigh. “That is a burden I’ll carry forever with me. What you see here came at a price.”
You swallowed.
“But you don’t have to go through this.”
“How so?”
He caressed your cheeks with his thumbs. “You get a chance set things straight. Tom is still alive. I don’t get to have that.”
He would never have Gabriella back. Ever. That was the ultimate price he had to pay.
Your gaze dropped and he saw a couple of tears streaming down your face. “It’s not that simple.”
“It’s not, but it’s still an open door. A choice you have.”
He felt your hands grip his wrists for support, as silence took over you.
“I just wish you’d told me,” he whispered, closing his eyes and planting a kiss to your forehead. “I would have been here for you sooner.”
The effect of his words coupled with the gesture were enough to have you break into a sob, tears streaming down your cheeks, as Miguel held your face with both hands.
This was painful to witness.
He knew all too well how it felt to feel powerless and thinking that you’ve run out of options.
He knew you now. He understood you. Better than anyone ever could.
“I’m… s-sorry…” you mumbled, trying to keep yourself from crying. “You’re… getting all w-wet…”
Miguel couldn’t help but to smile endearingly at your concern, as your tears began to roll down his hands.
“Do not apologise,” he said firmly. “You can cry. I’m here for you.”
Nodding, you opened your eyes again and tilted your had back to stare at him.
“Please s-stay…” you said in between sobs, your hands gripping him tightly. “Please…”
You were killing him.
Little by little.
Miguel would give you everything.
He nodded and you stepped back and let go of him, running the back of your hands across your cheeks to dry them.
Then you went to sit on your couch, removing the clutter of wires and boxes that were in the way.
Miguel spotted a blanket nearby and came to sit by your side, draping it over your shoulders.
You leaned against the backrest, and he followed suit, feeling your head drop to his shoulder.
“Please remove the mic… and delete that file…” you mumbled.
“I will.”
He swung his arm across your from you, to pull you closer to him.
The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, and Miguel closed his eyes, relieved that he had managed to somehow control the damage he had caused. Unfortunately, it had come at the expense of you having to open up to him, and he felt guilty for that…
He knew he had to prove himself to you, and was grateful that you hadn’t chosen to shut him out completely.
“Somehow… this was sort of cathartic?” your voice was suddenly heard.
Miguel squeezed your arm tenderly.
“I had… never told this to anyone…”
Guilt hit him at once. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be… I think I needed to let it out,” you mused against him.
He couldn’t help but to feel an intense wave of compassion for you. There was no way around it: Miguel was in too deep when it came to you. Everything about you pulled him in and gripped him.
You would always be his sweet girl.
His devotion was yours.
Just yours.
“Hey, Miguel?”
He felt you shift beside him and he looked down to meet your sleepy eyes. “Yes?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Your words didn’t register at first, and he thought he had misheard you.
“What?”
You slipped your feet under you, before leaning slowly into him, face drawing near. “Can I kiss you?”
Denial hit him. “You’re just sleepy.”
But you didn’t back down. “No… I just…” your eyes darted down. “Can I?”
His heart went into a frenzy and he was left speechless. Your eyes were set on his lips and he somehow found the strength to nod.
It took you a couple of seconds to adjust yourself, and once you did, you closed the the gap, parting your lips slightly.
Miguel was left perplexed.
Weeks of yearning and obsession were finally being vindicated.
“Pretty eyes,” you whispered, breath fanning his lips. “So pretty…”
Your noses brushed together and he fought the urge to pull you into his lap at once.
“You’re the pretty one…” he said truthfully.
A smile curved your lips even through your sleepiness. “I’m going to kiss you now, Miguel O’Hara…”
And you did.
The moment your lips met his, Miguel felt his body react. It didn’t take long for the blood to rush down to his cock, slowly stirring it.
He could taste the inexperience on your lips as you kept breaking the kiss to gasp for air. It was blatantly obvious you needed some help figuring out what do next, so he happily obliged.
With one hand he managed to shift your leg to swing across his, and with the other he propped you onto his lap.
You broke the kiss, adjusting yourself and lacing your arms behind his neck and taking his lips again.
This time, he pressed his thumb to your chin, parting your lips, so he could deepen the kiss with his tongue. You immediately complied, and allowed him in with a soft whimper.
Miguel finally tasted you.
His sweet girl.
You came down to press your crotch against his painfully hard cock, and he immediately had to still your hips and lift you slightly.
You broke the kiss again, confusion in your eyes. “What…”
He didn’t dare confess it to you.
Instead, he pressed on your lower back so you would lean into him again with a kiss.
He wanted to taste you, but he couldn’t have you sit on his cock like that… he would absolutely burst.
His sweet girl sounded so sweet and receptive…
He felt you trying to defy his hold on your hips, surely wanting that friction, but he couldn’t afford that.
As much as he wanted to feel you grinding on him, he would be too embarrassed to cum so soon, and that thought was what ultimately prevented him from reaching the point of no return.
He brought one hand to grip your wrist, allowing the top half of his digital suit to disintegrate, so he could place the palm of your hand on his chest, revelling in your heated skin against his.
Suddenly, you parted from him with a gasp. “Wait… I’m…”
He arched an eyebrow in confusion and watched as you snaked your arm in between you two, sliding your hand down your sweatpants.
Miguel’s eyes widened and he was about to lose it until he realised what was really happening.
You slowly removed your hand and glared at it. “Oh.”
Your fingers were drenched in your wetness.
You were soaked.
For him.
He carefully looped his fingers around your wrist, wanting to taste you, but that sent you into an immediate frenzy, and you fumbled to get up from his lap, nearly falling back if not for his incredible reflexes.
“Easy…” he cooed, caressing his thumb along your pulse point. “It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything.”
You tumbled to the side and he let go of you, watching you sit back against the cushioned backrest and looking startled like a deer in headlights.
Just how inexperienced were you?
“Thanks…” you mumbled, chest heaving erratically. “I’m… yeah… and sorry…”
Miguel sat up straighter and arched a brow. “You don’t have to apologise.”
You nodded, your eyes falling to his bulge. “I mean… for that…”
Only you would ever apologise for giving him a raging boner.
His sweet girl…
“Don’t worry,” he reassured, feeling his heartbeat slow down. “Are you okay?”
“Yes…”
He offered a warm smile. “Good.”
Miguel didn’t even know where to begin. He couldn’t quite grasp the events of tonight, and it almost felt like a fever dream.
He was so used to getting hard from just the thought of you, that he couldn’t believe he was now hard because of you.
Still, the way you had reacted when you realised how wet you were for him led him to believe that maybe you were far more inexperienced than he had anticipated.
And he would respectfully give you all the time and space.
He would wait for you to ask him for more.
He could wait. His throbbing cock not so much, but he had other ways of dealing with that.
“Can I use your bathroom?” he asked, adjusting himself over his suit.
Your eyes widened. “Oh…”
“Just to ease some of the tension,” he immediately said.
He was desperate to let his cock spring free, and let it calm down until he was back at his apartment.
You then averted your gaze. “Can you… do it here?”
Miguel was utterly and completely taken aback.
“I… I have never…” you went on, quickly pulling your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around them, and covering your face. “Nevermind…”
Oh.
Now it all made sense.
“Hey… look at me,” Miguel started, reaching out to tug at your wrist. “It’s okay.”
Slowly, you lifted your head to peer at him with evident hesitation. “Is it too… weird?”
“Not at all.”
And he meant it. By this point, he could feel his cock twitching more often, as more and more precum began to drip from the tip.
“Are you sure?” he asked, needing the absolute confirmation.
You promptly nodded, resting your chin on your forearm, eyeing him intensely.
He paused for a moment, expecting to be jolted away from this dream, or to have you backtrack.
“Please…” you whispered.
Swallowing hard, he allowed himself to sink into the backrest, before having the lower half of his suit disintegrating, and his cock finally released from its confinements.
Your eyes widened and your lips parted.
An instant ego boost that caused him to hiss as he wrapped his fingers around it. His body was so ready for you. Almost too ready. It didn’t take long before Migue felt droplets of precum sliding down his hips.
He couldn’t tear his eyes from you and it only added to the pleasure he felt.
Giving himself a few tentative pumps, he watched closely as you glared at the motion, curiosity splattered all over your face.
The first moans escaped his lips and he nearly slid his eyes shut, trying to stop himself from cumming too quickly.
But he didn’t want to miss out on anything you had to offer.
Miguel soon found a steady rhythm and began to fuck his hands like so many times before. But unlike those other times, he had you as an audience and he knew he wouldn’t last long no matter how hard he tried to muster images of the Vulture to dwindle his impending orgasm.
Then, you shifted closer, your legs dropping, but still pressed together.
He groaned, knowing exactly why you were being so fidgety.
Your hand was clutching at the hem of your shirt as a way to anchor yourself from the visual stimulation.
“You can touch yourself…” Miguel rasped, tightening the grip around himself, precum now flowing down his knuckles.
You pressed your legs tighter together and Miguel had to halt his motion or he would burst.
“…. or not,” he added, not wanting to overstep your line of comfort.
Your eyes darted to his face momentarily and, for the second time, Miguel saw your hand disappear inside your pants. You gasped softly and he could only guess that you must have reached your clit.
You let out the sweetest whimper, and Miguel’s cock twitched immediately.
His chest heaved and he swiped his thumb across the tip of his cock, letting out a groan.
He watched in awe as your arm moved rhythmically, and your eyes fluttered shut.
“Look at me…” he breathed.
You were biting yout lip, but did what he asked.
The urge to replace you hand with his — better yet, his cock — was almost painful and he knew he was heading towards the precipice, having to space out his strokes.
Your gaze fell to his hand. “How’s it so hard?”
He would have laughed if the situation wasn’t so dire and him being in need of release.
You scooted closer and closer, until your face was mere inches away, while still touching yourself.
For him.
Because of him.
“Why do you think?”
You gasped and he saw your hand slid out of your pants, fingers glistening with your wetness.
“Can… I?”
Miguel was too far gone to deny you of a newfound experience, so he nodded, bracing himself for what was about to happen.
He would burst.
You chewed on your lower lip as if unsure of what to do next, but he wanted you to take your time. A few moments later, you reached down with your soaked hand and he lets go of his cock, welcoming your touch.
He threw his head back and had to muster all of his willpower not to cum right away, as the pads of your fingers tentatively traced the underside of his cock, slowly moving to graze the veins that bulged from under the sensitive skin.
Everything inside him was suddenly burning like wildfire and he couldn’t stop his hips from jerking up.
By the time your thumb reached his tip and grazed slowly, Miguel hissed violently.
“Stop… stop - stop… please-” he begged, but was already being overtaken by the suffocating grip of a powerful orgasm.
You had indeed stopped touching him, but the damage had already been done.
His cock twitched rhythmically as hot spurts of cum began to cover his abs. Witch each roll of his hip, Miguel felt his vision blur and his fangs extend. He groaned your name a couple of times, before his words started to fuse together in a incoherent mess.
The stiffness of his peak shattered after a while and he slumped into the couch, struggling to even out his breathing.
Once he was finally able to open his eyes again, you came into his field of vision, holding a towel in your hands.
“Here,” you said as a smile broke across your face, before sitting by his side and offering it to him.
Even through the haze of an orgasm, Miguel was ablet o feel his heart skip a beat from your tenderness.
He proceeded to clean himself, wiping away the impressive amount of cum that had pooled on his lower abdomen.
“That was…”
His eyes were immediately on you. “Do you want me to…” he trailed off, allowing the not so subtle implication to dangle.
You didn’t catch it at first, but his silent was very telling.
“Oh, no — no, I’m fine, thanks,” you said with a chuckle.
“It’s only fair that I return the favor…”
You shook your head more vehemently this time. “It wasn’t a favor to begin with, Miguel. I was curious and… just wanted to watch you do it,” you mumbled as his digital suit began to cover his body again. “I had never… yeah — I’m still…”
Miguel had his suspicions that you were inexperienced, but he had no ultimate proof of that.
But this… “You’ve never had sex before?”
You settled back on the couch, crossing your legs. “No.”
He wasn’t sure of what to say. Was there even anything he should say?
So, he fell silent, waiting for you to take the lead.
“But… this was an interesting experience,” you eventually went on with a smile. “Do you… regret it?”
“No.”
But he could see doubt already settling on your face. “Maybe it was too much.”
“Not for me,” he said truthfully, straightening up in his seat. “Don’t think that, please.”
You nodded, but Miguel felt a pang of dread spread across his body. The last thing he wanted was for you to regret having opened up to him.
He had been longing for this for far too long to let it all be for nothing.
You were his sweet girl and you had his heart.
“Listen,” he started, set on preventing that from happening. “I can only speak for myself, but that was extremely hot. You are so, so attractive,” he went on, earning a doubting glare from you. “You are. I usually last longer than that.”
Your lips curled into an embarrassed smile, but Miguel could feel his words weren’t exactly reaching you.
Then silence took over.
You kept staring at your hands, head down and humming softly.
“Are you okay?” he shifted closer.
You took a deep breath. “I was thinking about your words earlier…”
“Yes?”
“Yes.”
He watched you closely. “And what are you thinking?”
“I think you’re right, Miguel,” you drawled out, your voice but a whisper. “I’ve been blaming myself for what happened to Tom for too long.”
A jab of compassion and empathy tugged at his heartstrings. “You’re absolutely right.”
Then, lifting your head, you met his eyes. “I think… I want to meet up with Tom again. Thank you for making me realise that, Miguel,” you finished with a sweet smile.
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Part 6
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Masterlist
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jinwoosbabyboo · 2 months ago
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"Safe and Sound.....Kinda" pt. 1
You went M.I.A and the LADS Men are stressed!
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Zayne
MC: Lets get dinner when I get back from this three day mission Zayne: Im not sure whether you're brave or idiotic MC: What do you mean? Zayne: A hunter with ample heart issues agreeing to go on a three day excursion its risky MC: I'll be fine besides I have you to take care of me Dr. Zayne Zayne: How many of you are going on this mission MC: There's eight of us in total and I'm partnered with Tara
Two days have passed since Zayne spoke to you. Just one more day and he'll see your pretty face again. He smiled to himself "How childish" he mumbled to himself as his leg bounced with anticipation of seeing you soon. Just then his work phone rang "Dr. Zayne speaking"
"Dr. Zayne we need you in the ER stat" Yvonne's voice was much more stern compared to her soft easy going tone. This was serious. He stood quickly moving around his desk; throwing on his white coat not missing a beat as he made his way to the ER.
"Give me a rundown of the situation" Zayne said as Grayson jogged the catch up with him. "We have seven patients, two unconscious, and all severely injured, the hunters association told us they were on a mission that went wrong a frenzy of wanderers appeared through a rift"
Time seemed to slow as Zayne's mind swam through the possibilities that this could be for squadron. "Give me the names"
"Ceila 21, Terrance 24, Mico 21, Tara-"
"Tara? is MC among these patients?" If looks could turn someone to stone Grayson would be a statue in the courtyard by now. He quickly flipped through the pages on the clipboard searching for your name. "I don't see her name here"
"You said there were seven ... is someone missing?" Zayne asked as he could feel his blood pressure rising.
"Zayne!" Someone was calling his name. "Zayne!" The voice was coming from a pale woman with short brown hair. She had lacerations scattered across her body; her torn uniform hanging on by a thread. She was covered in bruises and was about to pass out from blood loss any minute. "You have to help her..."
"Help who?"
"MC ... she's still ... she's still fighting ....... alone .......... you have to find her" Time seemed to slow as reality set in. MC was alone with the wanderers who did this to her team. All the oxygen left Zayne's body in an instant.
"Dr. Zayne they're calling for you in the operating room" Yvonne yelled snapping Zayne out of his mental spiral. "Right, right tell them I'm on my way"
Your profile was flagged as M.I.A. after that day no one knew where you were
Three days.....
Five days.....
One week....
One week three days twenty seven minutes....
Time ticked by slowly tormenting Zayne. He couldn't sleep and his appetite was non existent. Dark shadows formed under his eyes from his late nights going out and searching for you. "Where did you go?" He dropped his head in his hands trying to control his emotions. Just then an unknown number flashed across his phone screen.
"Hello?"
???: Hello, this is Jenna I'm MCs Captain you are listed in her file as an emergency contact. I'm just calling to let you know that we found her, but she's unresponsive. She's being transported to Akso Hospital now......she has a faint pulse.
Zayne dropped his phone and booked it out the door heading straight for the hospital. You were battered, bruised, and bloody but you were breathing and that was enough for Zayne. You had to be put in a medically induced coma so he and the other doctors could stabilize you.
Zayne stayed by your side adjusting your pillows, checking you vitals, and settling into his nightly position sitting bedside with his head in your lap. Rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as you lay there motionless. Slow steady breaths with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor melodically singing in the otherwise silent room. He'd wait as long as it would take for you to wake up. You have to wake up.
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Rafayel
You were supposed to be back two days ago. Rafayel was losing his mind. "She has twelve hours to contact me before I burn the hunter association headquarters to the ground" he seethed through gritted teeth.
Thomas stood back as Rafayel's anger was radiating off him in waves. He could almost feel the heat of his evol burning his skin.
Next day...
"Are you even looking for her?" Rafayel yelled in Jennas face.
"You're not the only one worried about her sir she's M.I.A. with a damaged hunters watch we're having trouble getting a lock on her coordinates" Jenna smoothed her skirt as she stood from her desk to size up Rafayel. "If you have any suggestion I'm all ears"
"Find her or you can say goodbye to this entire organization"
"Is that a threat?" Jenna stood tall under Rafayel's searing gaze anyone else would have cowered away.
"Its a promise"
One week later...
There's a loud bang on the door of Rafayel's art studio. The sudden noise startled him. "Raf....." The softest voice came from the other side just as he could hear the person sliding down the door and the soft thud of them hitting the ground.
He rushed to the door recognizing your voice. "MC!" You fell backwards as he opened the door. He managed to catch you under you arms. "What happened? Where were you? Don't tell me this is your blood" A blood trail tracked the path you took he could tell you'd fell a few times just trying to get to the door. Blood was smeared down the door and was now slowly pooling underneath the two of you.
"I was so badass" You smiled as you looked up at his blurry face going in and out of focus. "This is not the time for jokes" Your eyelids were so heavy. You tried to respond, but your words came out slow and slurred. "I just....wanted.......to see...........you.....before I.........died" Your head fell back as you passed out from blood loss.
Rafayel scooped up your bloody body and rushed out the door trying not to slip. You were dead weight and your breaths were shallow he knew he didn't have any time to waste. He ran with you in his arms to the nearest hospital begging for help as he fell to his knees with you in his arms.
Like I said safe and sound....kinda.
Xavier & Sylus here ♡
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lifeonmarz-blog · 1 year ago
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Sun through the houses: Synastry
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Sun in 1st, the sun person makes the house person feel understood. Ive had this aspect with one of my bestfriends. He was my go to person, the first one id call when anything interesting happened. Its easy to share your feelings with the sun person it feels natural. We gave each other more confidence. He acknowledged accomplishments in my life that others didn't. Things that i didn't even give myself credit for he shined a light on. This placement made me act more fearlessly because someone else saw that quality in me.
Sun in 2nd, Stability is a common attraction to this placement. The sun person sees the house person as someone they can depend on. House person can help sun person financially or help develop their interest. Together these two can create great business plans, they work well together towards mutual interest. Others see the couple as very business oriented. I have this placement with one of my brothers both ways and we grew up sharing alot of our things sometimes because he had to other times because we knew that would allow us to both have more. Also i would borrow money from him he's always been a saver. Ive always preferred to exchange money for experiences.
Sun in 3rd, Sun person is very easy to talk to almost like a Therapist or something. Your secrets are spilled easily. The house person naturally wants to share here but it goes both ways the sun person also feels very understood by the house person. There's a mutual openness and grace with this placement. If you were in a long distance relationship this is type of placement that would be beneficial. I have this with a sibling he is the sun person and we have mutual interest so it makes collabing very easy. We tend to naturally operate in the same direction even though we individually don't think that similar.
Sun in 4th, This placement can feel like looking into a mirror. This person is a blatant reflection of some of your own behaviors. On the surface they seem like your ideal partner. Very well received by family. Honesty well received in general they look good together. This placement focuses on healing emotions in yourself that you reject. Its easier to be grateful for the little things with this person. They show you new ways to view the same things. Here you will see the areas where your being naive. They want you to believe in yourself as much as they do.
Sun in 5th, Child like fun happens here. The way the sun person expresses helps the house person not take things so seriously. The sun person is in awe of the house person. Its such a cute placement, The sun person makes the house person feel special. It may not be long term but it shows you how to just be, with no added pressures. Express your love today don't wait type of vibe. You may even talk about having babies here, are you actually serious probably not but this placement loves to feed into fantasies and ideals and that's nice sometimes. Someone i had this placement with would always tell me how beautiful i was even when i was just chilling in pajamas it was cute. Ive also been the sun person and the way the house person handled their problems and stayed so mentally strong was very inspiring to me. It made me want to be less reactive and more of a problem solver. I looked up to their resilience.
Sun in 6th, The house person feels the need to improve because of the sun person. The things that you choose to ignore are brought up here. The energy is like ''deal with it now, no more waiting". The house persons structure and discipline is being improved here. Its often that the house person doesn't want to be seen as lazy by the sun person. Which can be very helpful if you have goals your working towards. Their energy is motivating especially when it comes to business related things. House person doesn't want to disappoint the sun person. Sun person sees the house person as capable of great achievements.
Sun in 7th, Long term friendship or friends turned lovers is the theme in this house. Relationships built here usually started innocently from just being around each other alot. Sometimes the Sun person can have unfair expectations of the house person. Unbalanced relationships is common here one or both people can feel they carry more responsibility and burden. It can feel like at times communication is missed, misinterpretations can always be worked through if both people are willing to listen to understanding and if they are relationships here will go the distance. Both sets of my grandparents had this placement and were married for over 40 years. This could also be person you have a child with and now your bonded to each other even if their wasn't marriage. They feel a sense of home in each other. This couple could like to stay home and do things together.
Sun in 8th, The sun person buries themself into house persons wounds often times wounds they didn't even know they had. Both people are meant to be transformed by the union. If this relationship can make it through the first few initial hurtles which tend to be more dramatic, this relationship will keep you together for a while. The way the sun person expresses can have the house person feeling the need to keep a defense up. The sun person feels the house person is running away from their issues. Sun person is made to feel like the bad guy because their just more comfortable bringing up the hard topics. If the house person is willing to drop their defensiveness and the sun person is willing to be patient and tactful with the house person this relationship would be one of the phoenix rising from the ashes. They would be unbreakable together.
Sun in 9th, This couple inspires each other. Expanding what you thought you knew. Transforming what you thought love was. This is a beautiful placement of people learning a new viewpoint on love and self expression. Sun person expands house persons viewpoints more but this placement goes both ways. Topics that you wouldn't normally talk about gets discussed here. Long term friendships are built through the expansion of the mind. Affection is easily shown here taking trips together would do this couple well and deeper the connection. They want to give to each other and spending money together is one of their favorite things to do. This is honestly one of my favorite placements its mentally and physically expansive.
Sun in 10th, Sun person is proud of house person. They want to show house person off they feel lucky to be with house person. It makes them look good publicly. This couple has a relationship that is centered around fun. They want everyone to see their affection towards each other. This couple is friends first and lovers second. This placement isn't as emotionally deep but it will make you feel important. They want people to know how amazing you are. Its very easy to be yourself and tap into your more child like energies with this placement. This couple shows each other sides of themselves no one else knows about. With that being said they can also be vicious towards one another if this relationship turns sour this couple will have no problem having public disputes. Also this may be a taboo type of relationship were people don't understand why your together or be curious on how the person got with you.
Sun in 11th, I bet this relationship started with lighthearted playful flirting. This is the most "friendly" placement. Intimacy may take more work to develop here. Ive had this placement in a friends with benefits situation. It can easily turn into that if both people aren't intentional about what they’re looking for. If they are, this is a great placement. Communication feels very open and theirs no pressure. This couple merges friend groups and could've also meet through friends or have mutual friends. This couple networks well together and other people are very attracted to their energy together. Its fun to watch them interact with each other. They’re the type to be in a room full of people but have their own sidebar conversation and cues towards one another.
Sun in 12th, Spiritual connection or secret infatuation? My sun is in the 12th house so ive experienced this more times than i would like to but in the same breathe i love it. The sun person unintentionally test who you thought you were. Boundaries become blurred in this house but its slick, you might not even notice until after the fact. Things that you might find embarrassing happen here "thats never happened before" type of things. Alot of the communication in this house goes unsaid. Its like the little social cues that your supposed to just pick up on. It can also feel like your being observed on how you react to situations. You still seem to be mysterious to each other no matter how long you've known each other. Like there's still something being hidden from you. Without trust this placement could easily lead to feelings of being deceived. Thats not to say your not being deceived though. Cheating is common in the 12th house. You could be completely shocked and unaware about your partner living a double life. With the 12th house there's really no planet person, house person dynamic it switches back in fourth. Theres alot of talking behind each others back but that doesn't have to be a bad thing the person could be speaking well about you, putting your name in the right spaces. You know the feeling of walking into a room that people were just talking about you in? Its like you didn't physically hear it but you feel it. Someones sun in your 12th can give that type of feeling for both people. If its not operating from an expansive place. If it is you experience complete devotion. Two people committed to the relationship no matter where its headed. Someone you can experience complete intimacy and vulnerability with. Complete was an unintentional brilliant choice of words here. Not to many can navigate the 12th house and make it out together but if you do... you'll feel you've completed something great and felt a connection sent directly from god.
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ryescapades · 2 months ago
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saccharine | kaiju no. 8
characters: hoshina soshiro x fem!reader
contents: 18+ nsfw mdni !!! angst w happy ending, unprotected seggs (wrap it before u tap it chat), reverse cowgirl, implied creampie & multiple orgasms, thigh riding, some praise kink and manhandling, petnames, a bit of pussy inspection, pining, tension? angry confession rraahhgk
a/n: this is for my lovelies maru and hannah 💌 2.5k wc
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"turn around. give me a little show, will ya?"
the room feels hot, overwhelming, suffocating. your lungs continue to heave, a shaky hand running through your hair, damp from sweat. your movement is unsteady as you turn your body in the bed just as he instructed, facing away from him.
you don't know how many times you've come, all you know is that it feels too good to stop. too good for you to not take advantage of all that he's willing to give. not when he seems far from tapping out either.
a dilated pair of amaranthine eyes leisurely rakes over your back, down to the dip of your waist as hoshina keeps his hands firm on your hips, making himself comfortable by sitting up properly and leaning against the headboard. resting your legs between his slightly spread out legs, you hover above his cock with as much stability as you could muster.
"line it up— yeah, just like that... that's it, fuck," he hisses just as he slides home, the mixed liquids of both his previous cum and yours making it easier for you to move.
a muffled whimper manages to escape as you bite down on your lip, feeling his girth stretch you out like he's meant to mold you into his shape. hoshina's guiding hand remains as you start riding him slowly, seductively as your hands perch on his thighs (which you've spent too much time of your day thinking about) to steady yourself.
he groans deep in his chest, feeling himself growing harder at the sight of you deliberately swaying your body above him as the tight grip of your cunt around his cock sends his eyes rolling to the back of his head.
"god, that feels so good," he breathes out before he eventually directs the pace, effortlessly lifting you to make you ride him faster, harder. with a tighter grip now splayed on the sides of your waist, hoshina begins to thrust up into your pussy, feeling you squeezing around him. "hoshina— fuck, i-i'm close," you whimper, digging your nails into the skin of his wrist while your other hand remains perched on his thigh.
the mingling sounds of skins slapping, fervent moans and grunts fill the room, a symphony decoded from the passion and eagerness to bring each other to that peak of ecstasy once again.
soon enough, the tightening in your stomach snaps, causing you to cry out as you fall apart on his cock. hoshina lets out a string of curses before he, too, comes undone, ropes of cum spurting into your quivering pussy.
you feel your back warms up as hoshina leans his head against your back, the two of you panting heavily from the exhaustion. "i can't go another..." you rasp weakly, eyelids fluttering and drooping. the man chuckles breathlessly, "figured. feel free to stay though. just for tonight," he says.
for tonight. your heart clenches, and suddenly reality crashes down on you. you're all too aware that this is your first time sleeping with him, your post-sex mind wrecking in itself trying to remember how you ended up here, in his room.
all you know is that at some point of the day earlier, you realized how sexually pent up you both were. the unspeakable emotions and the undeniable pull, they've been eating away at your insides until somehow you and hoshina became a mess of clashing mouths, wandering hands and sweaty bodies grinding against each other to near completion.
that night, as he lets you lay down in his bed shortly after cleaning yourselves up, you don't fall asleep. as he tucks you under the blankets, you don't fall asleep. as he pulls you in until you're pressed against his chest, his heartbeat steady against your back, you don't fall asleep.
and as he slumbers soundly behind you, light snores filling the cold and dark room, you give up on closing your eyes to make your way out of his arms, arduously dressing yourself back up with as much strength as possible before you leave his quarters in the middle of night, just as you'd left your heart to crumble into pieces in his hands.
after all, hoshina had never once uttered your name throughout the whole night you were with him, when he himself had once said that your name was always the first thing he'd utter without fail when he goes about his day, when he's experiencing the wonders of his life.
to you, the sound of your name on hoshina soshiro's lips is like an intimate caress, a promise, a lover's oath.
hence, you'd concluded that this night is just a one time thing.
˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ˏˋ°•*⁀➷
or is it...?
it's been days— almost a week since that night. and you've been trying your damnedest to avoid any private encounters with hoshina, though with every day that passes, the struggle gradually increases.
your relationship now has somehow reversed back to the superior-subordinate dynamics where you only speak to him when needed to, report to him when you're asked of it and look at him when he explicitly orders tells you to.
you'd glance to the side the second your eyes connected with his out of pure habit, you'd pull away whenever he stands just a tad bit closer, no more casual talks, no more flirty remarks in the confines of the training room late at night and no more 'hoshina!' in that excited voice of yours. it's only the curt, formal 'vice-captain' now.
hoshina notices, of course. i mean, why wouldn't he? he's like, the most perceptive person the world has ever had the pleasure to know, you'd bitterly thought, reminded of the time he persisted to make you do archive work with him.
you had begrudgingly obeyed, helping him store away the past mission reports and data files with only the tense, stiff silence as your company as it stretched taut in the archive room like a tightrope.
you'd think you'd have the prospect to keep on coworker-zoning him forever, preferably but unfortunately for you, when you'd refused to sit beside him during one celebratory dinner, he decides that was his final straw.
right as you bid everyone a good night after the event ended, your wrist is snatched into a firm grip, causing you to stumble in the hallways, pulled by a certain vice-captain.
“hoshina— vice-captain?! w-where are we going?" you almost shriek in panic, tugging at your wrist to escape his hold but your strength was never a match against his as he wordlessly keeps dragging you along with a grounded determination.
after many turns later, hoshina enters his office, with you reluctantly trotting behind him. the sound of the door locking in place causes your heartbeat to quicken.
you turn to look at him. the sight that greets you; his expression that is akin to... anger? irritation? disappointment? regret? whatever it is, it makes you swallow, hands fidgeting when you feel them turning clammy.
"wh—"
hoshina gives you absolutely no chance. "are you angry with me?" he asks as he leans his back against the door, legs crossed and hands shoved into his pockets. you pause, taken aback. "i- what? i'm not?"
the man crosses his arm, still with that grim expression on his face. "did i do something then?" his question makes your forehead crease before your eyes glaze over, closed off from his piercing gaze.
hoshina clenches his fist. you've been doing that a lot lately.
you didn't. in fact, you did nothing at all. and that's the problem, you wanted to say but instead, you shake your head and look to the side. "no, i'm not angry with you."
"says the one who have been ignoring me the past week," he retorts, letting out a scoff that has you narrowing your eyes at him. "excuse me? i'm literally talking to you right now? i have been for the past week."
"could've fooled me. did ya not remember the dinner just now? you avoided me like i killed your cat or somethin'!"
your patience snaps at his offensive tone. "yeah, well, what was i supposed to do? admit that i didn't want to sit with you because i like you?" you laugh mirthlessly.
hoshina falters. "you what? wait—" his arms uncross to signal you to pause, though his hand ends up hovering awkwardly in the air when he locks eyes with you.
"no, you wait. i'm still talking here." you hiss with a death glare, one that he freezes at. "i like you, hoshina. more than just a friend. but all this time we've been spending together, i still don't know whether you feel the same or not. it's confusing. you're confusing... one second you treat me like i'm special and the next you friend-zone me so bad i stressed out so much over it," by that point your voice trembles, lowered in its volume.
"but i don't want to ruin whatever it is that we had, i just... what do you want me to do?" you whisper.
everything seems to stop, and for a moment hoshina thinks there's a deafening ring in his ears, and there's anguish in your eyes. he opens his mouth to speak, to relieve you of that pain which he despises to see on your face but your next words stops him short.
"and you never said my name that entire night..." you huff quietly with a subtle pout on your lips, one he's sure you're not even aware of.
oh, his chest hurts. his mind reverts back to that passion-filled night, one he'd never once forgotten. not in this life, and not in another. it was the best night of his life, and he had prayed to the stars he could experience it again and more with you everyday.
if only you knew how much of a fool you make him. hoshina never called out your name even once that night because he realizes if he did, he'd straight away come untouched like a pathetic teen boy.
that fond, exuberant glimmer in your eyes when you answer his calls... gods above, your eyes hold everything his soul thirsts for.
"y/n," he softly calls out, and your heart picks up its pace then. a second of hesitation passes before you're peering up at him with those pretty doe eyes of yours, and that is all he needed before he charges towards you, closing the distance to connect his lips to yours in a hungry, ferocious kiss.
hoshina takes in your resounding gasp, sliding his hands to your waist in gentle grip as your hands slowly but surely reaching up to cup his cheeks. "h-hoshina, wait," you murmur breathlessly in between his kisses.
"god, y/n, i love you." that makes you pause. pulling away slightly, you peek at his expression, and the look in his eyes, the sheer sincerity in them sends a jolt of electricity down the back of your spine and stealing the very air from your lungs.
not even a millisecond after that, you grab him by the neck to kiss him again. a groan rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating between the negligible space between your bodies at the taste of you when his tongue meets yours in a clash of dominance. desire burns in the pit of your stomach, the sensation slithering down as it pools in your underwear.
hoshina then deliberately pulls you with him as the two of you blindly stumbles across the space in his office, lips never separating before he feels the couch hits the back of his knees. he tugs you down, urging you to sit on his lap. you finally break the kiss, flustered at the string of saliva connecting you lips with him. "hoshi-"
"it's soshiro to you," he roughly cuts you off just as he settles you on one of his thighs, the heat of your clothed pussy brushing on his pants. "fuck, y/n... you're dripping already, aren't ya?" he grunts, hands pawing at the soft give your hips.
"soshiro, please... i need you," you quietly whimper into his neck, following his lead to start grinding on his thick, muscled thigh. "ya got me, sweetheart. i'm here," he coos, trailing open-mouthed kisses on your shoulder.
with the firm hold he has on you, your body curves into his as your hips now vigorously move on your own accord, the friction causing your clit to drag against your already-drenched underwear in the most delicious way.
drops of sweat line at your brows as your high-pitched moans and mewls send hoshina's blood rushing south straight to his cock, straining painfully in his pants. he continues to erratically move you, his leg occasionally bouncing to give your approaching climax a better leverage.
damn it all to hell... he could probably just come like this, with you riding his thigh as if there's no tomorrow.
the fabric of your shirt clings to your skin uncomfortably from the exertion. you can feel yourself getting wetter, the familiar coil tightening and tugging at your insides as your slick seeps through his pants, hot and sticky on his skin.
"you're doing so good, baby. you're close, yeah?" his voice drops to an octave, the low and raspy tone gliding and curling around in your mind like a venomous snake, causing you to whine as you try to hide yourself from him but nope, he's having none of that. hoshina then grips your jaw in his hands, forcing you to keep your eyes on his violet gaze. "please, please- gonna come, soshiro—"
with a shaky, breathless sob, you finally reach your climax, eyelids fluttering close as your body shudders with the force of your release. your fingers desperately clutch at the back of his uniform when a growled out curse enters your ear.
fuck, fuck, he has to see it for himself.
gathering your body in his arms, hoshina expertly maneuvers you until you're laying with your back on the couch, the soft yelp from you echoing in the room. his deft hands swiftly move to unbutton your pants, pulling them down along with your panties in a rushed manner.
"holy shit, y/n," he hisses to himself at the view that greets his hungry eyes, feeling his cock getting impossibly and achingly harder that it's killing him. he wouldn't even be surprised if he had already come in his pants already.
hoshina has never seen such a perfect sight in all his life.
your hair is mussed up, cheeks reddened, lovesick eyes that are clouded with lust as they stare at him in a daze, still in the middle of coming down from your previous orgasm. he licks his lips, his purple hues trailing from your slightly parted mouth, to your heaving chest from the labored breathing, and down... down to your pussy.
it's swollen and fucking dripping, soaking up and dirtying his couch. and yet he couldn't ask for a better treat for himself. nonetheless, hoshina is in no rush. he's gonna take all the time in the world to worship you, to wholly devour you.
and you were the sweet, saccharine drop of poison he was willing to drown himself in.
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i can’t not write porn without the plot apparently.
taglist: @maruflix @pixelcafe-network @ouiouimochi @justwinginglife @lumiambrose
©🅁🅈🄴🅂🄲🄰🄿🄰🄳🄴🅂. do not steal, translate or repost my work anywhere else !
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