#i know i have been mia for a while now | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ja3yun · 1 month ago

Text

Guess Who?

puppy hybrid!jake x human!reader x puppy hybrid!sunghoon warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, double pen, sensory deprivation (blindfold), oral (f.rec), fingering, knotting, spanking (slight), petnames (pup, baby, baby girl), poly relationship, includes mlm (kissing and humping), jakehoon are cute and hybrids obvs, not proofread, anything else lmk! w.c: 15.1k synopsis: for your 21st birthday, your two devoted puppy hybrid boyfriends decide to help you celebrate in a way only they know how. a/n: hi! i've been mia for nearly three weeks and i'm so sorry! ofc my return had to be for my baby @yzzyhee's birthday! love of my life, i really hope you like this and you have a great day :(( you make my life a million times better and i am so thankful you were born! i love you! p.s i will never make another hybrid fic again, this shit is hard. comments, reblogs, etc are all welcome!!

You unlock the door, the key clicking softly in the lock, and as it creaks open, a hushed murmur greets your ears.

“Shh, she’s coming!”

“Shut up, she’ll hear you, you idiot!”

Your brow furrows as you step into the flat, uncertainty settling in your chest. The room is blanketed in near-total darkness, an odd quiet stretching across the air. Faint shadows dance and flicker as if they’re alive, shifting ever so slightly in the blackness. You hesitate on the threshold, taking a breath- click - the lights burst into life, filling the space with a warm, glowing radiance.

The sight before you takes your breath away. The entire room has been transformed, dressed in delicate pink, black, and white ribbons that cascade from the ceiling in beautiful, sweeping spirals. They trail down walls and weave across the furniture, shimmering gently as they catch the light. A large banner stretches across the far wall, the letters in glittering gold spelling out ‘Happy 21st Birthday!’ in an elegant, swirling font. Balloons hover in the corner, two enormous numbers bobbing amid a sea of smaller ones, all in shades of blush, rose, and cream, softly swaying with each movement of air.

It feels like you’ve stepped into a dream, everything so perfectly curated and thoughtful, the air brimming with sweetness. A fond smile spreads across your face, but your attention is soon drawn to the two figures standing in the middle of the room.

Sunghoon and Jake, your two mischievous puppy hybrid boyfriends, are still bickering, their argument continuing even though you’re clearly in the room. They’re adorably oblivious to your presence, caught up in blaming each other for almost ruining the surprise.

“You were supposed to stay quiet!”

“Well, if you hadn’t stepped on that balloon-”

Their argument plays out like a well-rehearsed comedy act. Jake, with his floppy ears twitching in irritation, points accusingly at Sunghoon, whose pointier ears are now folded back in frustration. You watch with amused affection, knowing full well that this dynamic between them is part of the package. Sunghoon is the more serious of the two, precise and calculated, while Jake is more playful, his carefree nature often leading to these light-hearted clashes. The way their ears move is a telltale sign of their emotions, and you’ve come to love how expressive they are without even realising it.

You stifle a giggle and finally decide to make your presence known, clearing your throat. The sound cuts through their argument, both pairs of ears immediately perking up. Sunghoon’s ears shoot upright for a second before they fold back again in a mix of sheepishness and surprise, while Jake’s ears give an almost comical jump as he turns to face you with wide eyes.

“What’s all this?” you ask, your voice warm but teasing as you gesture to the room’s elaborate decorations. Despite your best effort to keep your tone light, you can’t help but feel touched by the effort they’ve put in.

You had told them not to make a big deal out of your birthday this year. You didn’t want any fuss; after all, you’ve always treated birthdays like any other day. A quiet dinner, maybe a movie, nothing more. But you should’ve known better. The boys are nothing if not loyal by nature, and deep down, they both knew that if you came home to no celebration, especially on your 21st birthday, you’d feel a pang of disappointment, even if you tried to hide it.

As soon as you left for uni this morning, they sprung into action. Skipping their own mid-morning classes, they rushed off to the store. It didn’t take long to find the perfect accessories out of your favourite colour scheme. After just over a year together, they knew you inside and out. They picked out everything meticulously, but what warms your heart the most is the extra effort they put into hand-making some of the decorations.

Sunghoon, ever the perfectionist, probably spent hours crafting the intricate paper flowers that now adorn the table, each one delicately folded with precision. Jake likely took charge of blowing up the balloons, glueing gems and bows to their otherwise minimalist surfaces, and arranging them in a way that screams pure enthusiasm.

They wanted it to be perfect. They wanted you to feel special because, to them, you are special. The thoughtfulness behind every tiny detail, from the glittering banner to the colour of the ribbons, speaks volumes about how much they adore you.

Your mind begins to drift back to the very beginning, to the day you first met them at the university’s human-hybrid mixer. It had been a nerve-wracking event, designed to help bridge the gap between humans and hybrids, building a sense of community. You weren’t quite sure what to expect, but as soon as you walked into that room and laid eyes on them, something shifted inside you. It was instantaneous, like the world had clicked into place. You hadn’t even exchanged words before you felt the tug - something deep, raw, and undeniable pulling you towards them.

Hybrids, you have learned, can experience soul ties with humans. It’s a bond deeper than even the most romanticised ideas of soulmates, more visceral and primal. There’s no logical explanation for it, but once it happens, it’s unbreakable. That’s what had happened between the three of you. From the moment you met, there was no going back.

Sure enough, Sunghoon and Jake felt it too, that sense of loyalty, affection, and devotion that goes beyond anything they had ever experienced. Soul ties like this usually only happen between one hybrid and one human, yet they both felt that magnetic pull to your heart. The day after the mixer, they had sat down together, the atmosphere between them heavy with the weight of this newfound connection. It hadn’t been easy. The bond between them and you was so intense, neither of them wanted to lose the chance to be with you, but they couldn’t bring themselves to fight over you either.

They talked for hours that day, confessing how deeply they felt drawn to you. Neither wanted to step aside for the other, but at the same time, they couldn’t imagine you with just one of them. It wasn’t until the conversation led to you - when they thought about how you might feel - that the solution became clear. It wasn’t about competition or winning you over. It was about all three of you, together.

Being best friends, they always joked about being tied to one another too in some way, whether platonic or not. Their love for one another has been there ever since they first met, not a soul tie, but definitely something. That fact just made their decision final; both of them would have you.

When they finally brought the conversation to you, you’d been surprised, of course. The idea of being in a relationship with two people, much less two puppy hybrids, was a lot to process. But you couldn’t deny the pull. That inexplicable bond had wound itself around your heart, and no matter how much you tried to rationalise it, you felt it just as intensely as they did. Eventually, the apprehension faded, and you gave in to the inevitable.

And now, here you are, standing in the middle of your flat, staring at your boyfriends who have gone to great lengths to make your 21st birthday special.

Jake is the first to make his move, skipping towards you with the kind of joyful energy that’s distinctly him. His wide, boyish grin grows even larger the closer he gets. He practically leaps into your arms, winding himself around you like an affectionate puppy, arms squeezing you tightly as though he might never let go.

“Happy birthday, Y/N!” he says, his voice filled with excitement, the words almost a little breathless from his eagerness.

You laugh, wrapping your arms around him just as tightly. With Jake, it’s always like this - his hugs are all-consuming, full of warmth and enthusiasm. His body presses against yours, not just with strength but with an earnestness that’s pure and unguarded. It feels like he’s trying to merge your two bodies together, as though the closeness could never be enough. He nuzzles into your neck, his breath hot against your skin, and you can feel the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathes you in, basking in the comfort of your touch.

Jake loves being affectionate, perhaps more than anything. He thrives on physical contact - the soft pressure of your hand against his, the way your fingers thread through his hair, or the way your bodies fit together when he wraps you up in one of his bone-crushing hugs. It’s as if every moment spent apart from you is too long, and when he finally has you in his arms, he can’t help but revel in the feeling of having you close.

His head rests against your shoulder, his floppy ears brushing your cheek as he buries his face into the crook of your neck. There’s a kind of vulnerability in how open he is, how unabashedly he shows his love for you. His body, though strong and lithe, feels almost like a blanket of warmth around you, cocooning you in his affections. He never holds back - whether it’s a kiss, a hug, or just the way he lingers close to you, as if you’re the only thing keeping him grounded.

Sunghoon approaches with a more measured pace, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he watches Jake all but smother you. There’s no rush in his steps - he’s content to let Jake have his moment. He’s always been the more reserved one, the quiet presence beside Jake’s exuberance. But that doesn’t mean he loves you any less; his affection is simply more silent, more subtle, yet just as deep.

When Sunghoon reaches you, he gives a light pet on your head, his touch gentle but firm. Then, with a soft breath, he leans down and places a feather-light kiss on your lips. It’s not hurried or overly eager, but the tenderness in it makes your heart flutter. “Happy birthday, baby,” he murmurs, his voice a little lower, intimate.

While Jake is excitable, Sunghoon’s affection is steadier, more controlled but just as sincere. He’s a border collie hybrid, after all, a little more relaxed than Jake’s golden retriever mix. Sunghoon’s affection comes through in smaller gestures - a brush of his fingers against your arm, a lingering glance, or a kiss placed gently on your forehead when no one’s looking. He’s not as overt as Jake, but the intensity of his love is undeniable, simmering just below the surface, waiting to be felt in those quieter moments.

You shift one of your arms from Jake’s back and lift it to scratch behind Sunghoon’s ear, knowing full well how much he enjoys it. His eyes close slightly, and a faint smile curves his lips as he leans into your touch, savouring the sensation.

“Thank you,” you say softly, looking between the two of them. “Both of you. But you really didn’t have to do all of this.”

Jake’s head lifts from your shoulder, his face full of adoration as he looks at you, his brows pulling together just enough to show how deeply he feels. “We wanted to,” he says earnestly, his voice softening in the way it does when he’s especially emotional. His floppy ears jitter a little as his eyes search yours, a mix of happiness and tenderness reflecting in them.

Standing beside him, Sunghoon nods in quiet agreement. There’s no need for him to say anything; you can feel his love just in the way he gazes at you, calm but unwavering. For him, the effort was never a chore - it was an expression of something deeper, something he couldn’t quite put into words but hoped you’d feel in every ribbon hung, every balloon tied, every delicate touch that went into creating this moment.

You can feel a tightness in your chest as their love surrounds you, almost tangible in the air between the three of you. Your heart swells with emotion, and for a second, you’re not sure what to say. What can you say to thank them for this? Words hardly seem enough to capture the overwhelming gratitude, the pure affection you feel for them both.

Reaching up to your face and breaking the hug, Jake brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear, his fingertips lingering on your cheek, warm and gentle. His eyes, dark and soft, reflect his adoration for you. There’s a purity in Jake’s love - a kind of innocence that comes with his boundless energy and enthusiasm. He doesn’t need to hide it or temper it. His affection is full-force, all-consuming, and it’s impossible not to be swept up in it.

“We actually didn’t just want to,” Jake says after a moment, his voice still soft but tinged with that familiar playful sincerity. “We had to. You deserve it. You deserve more than this.”

There’s something in the way he says it that makes your breath catch in your throat. His tone is so earnest, his belief in what he’s saying so unwavering, that you feel your cheeks warm slightly under his gaze. Jake has always had this way of making you feel like you’re the most important person in the world - like he’s constantly in awe of the fact that you’re his.

“You know we couldn’t let today go by without doing something,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice a little lower, more intimate. “It’s your 21st, after all.”

His hand moves to the small of your back, guiding you into a gentle embrace. Sunghoon’s touch is gentle but commanding, like he’s savouring each second of closeness. He doesn’t rush; he never does. Instead, he pulls you into his side slowly, his body warm against yours.

For a moment, you’re caught between the two of them - Jake’s eager touch on one side, Sunghoon’s soft and subtle presence on the other - and it strikes you just how perfectly balanced everything feels. The way they complement each other is something you’ve come to love more than anything.

You will never understand why more people don’t have a poly relationship like this. But then again, you three are special, connected by fate.

Pulling back slightly, you look at both of them, a smile tugging at your lips. “You guys are too much,” you say, shaking your head fondly. “But I’m not complaining.”

Jake’s grin stretches across his face, his eyes lighting up at your words. “Good!” he exclaims, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you in for another quick, excited squeeze. “Because there’s more!”

Sunghoon lets out a small chuckle beside you, shaking his head at Jake’s enthusiasm. “We may have gone a little overboard,” he admits, though there’s no hint of regret in his tone. If anything, he seems quietly pleased with how everything has turned out.

Jake steps back, his hand slipping into yours as he tugs you towards the centre of the room, where the table is set up. “Come on, we’ve got cake!”

Yanking you toward the table, Jake gestures you to a spot on the dining table where a heart-shaped cake sits proudly in the centre, stealing the spotlight among the delicate decorations. It’s adorned with soft pink frosting that traces a neat border around the edges, forming a perfect frame for the simple yet heartfelt message written in slightly uneven, hand-lettered icing: Happy 21st Birthday, Y/N. The pink lettering pops against the soft cream-coloured surface of the cake, and small cherries dot the edges, adding a bright touch of red. Around the base, tiny white pearls encircle the cake, giving it a touch of elegance.

Your smile widens as you take in the cake’s beauty. “This is so…” you begin, laughter bubbling up as you admire the thoughtful details. “You guys didn’t make this, did you?”

“Fuck no,” Jake laughs, eyes sparkling with mischief as he swipes a finger across the back of the cake, scooping up a dollop of frosting. He waves it playfully in front of your lips, teasing you with the sweet temptation. “We’re talented, but not this talented.”

Without missing a beat, you lean forward and suck the frosting off his finger, your tongue brushing against his skin. Jake’s ears twitch in excitement, his eyes widening, and his smile turns bashful, almost shy. His floppy ears, always so expressive, bounce with joy as he watches you enjoy the taste. The frosting is sweet, creamy, and delicate on your tongue, the perfect combination of sugary delight and subtle flavour. You nod in appreciation, your eyes flicking between Jake and Sunghoon.

“It’s amazing,” you say, licking the last bit of frosting off your lips. “Thank you.”

Sunghoon, who’s been watching the two of you with a soft, amused expression, steps forward. “We can have some after presents,” he says, his voice smooth and calm. He reaches behind the table, and your curiosity piques as he pulls out three carefully wrapped boxes, each one tied with a neat ribbon.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you sit down, the three gifts now laid out in front of you. “You guys didn’t have to-”

“Stop saying that!” Jake interrupts with a laugh, his tail wagging in spirit if he had one. “Just open them!”

With a smile, you carefully tug the ribbon on the first box and peel back the wrapping paper. The box is sleek and black, and as you open it, a familiar scent hits you before you even see what’s inside. It’s the Prada perfume you’ve been eyeing at the store for weeks, the one you always stopped to test but never quite convinced yourself to splurge on. Your breath catches as you lift the bottle from the box, its elegant design glimmering in the light.

“You remembered,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the smooth glass.

Sunghoon smiles softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Of course we did. We noticed how you always looked at it, and we wanted to make sure you had it.”

“Plus it gives us an excuse you smell you,” Jake adds, already imagining all the ways he can attach his lips to your neck and wrists, engulfing his senses in your new scent. Jake loves to sniff you, to know every note of your aura, it’s intoxicating. He thinks your natural scent is the most delicious though.

You feel a warmth spread through your chest, touched by the thoughtfulness of their gesture. The aroma of the perfume lingers in the air as you place it back in the box, turning your attention to the second gift.

The next box is smaller, and when you open it, your heart skips a beat. It’s a mixtape, decorated with a simple hand-drawn label featuring little doodles of stars, hearts, and music notes. You can’t help but giggle softly as you look over the list of songs, recognising some of your favourite artists immediately - Olivia Rodrigo, Sabrina Carpenter, and a mix of other singers you love.

“We put all your favourites on there,” Sunghoon says, his voice tinged with pride. “And a couple of new ones you might like, or songs that make us think of you.”

You run your fingers over the tape, your smile growing. “This is so sweet,” you say, glancing up at them. “I love it.”

The gift is thoughtful, so much time and effort to select every song, place them in order, and decorate the label. It’s gifts like these that make you feel understood and known, that it’s not just a gift someone bought because they had to get you a present, but a declaration of their adoration and understanding of you as a person. It’s cliche, sure, but you love it all the same and will cherish it for the rest of your life.

You don’t have the heart to tell them you don’t own a cassett player though...

But the third box is the one that truly tugs at your heartstrings. It’s a little larger than the others, and as you carefully untie the ribbon, your eyes land on the softest, fluffiest star-shaped plush toy you’ve ever seen. Its smile is embroidered in delicate stitches, and its squishy texture is irresistible. You can’t help but let out a soft pout as you hold it up, hugging it to your chest with a small pout of delight.

Jake grins, clearly pleased with your reaction, but before you can say anything, he nudges you lightly. “Wait, there’s more. Look inside the box.”

You place the plush aside, curiosity blooming as you peer back into the box. At the bottom, there’s a small envelope. You pull it out and open it, revealing a certificate. Your eyes widen as you read the words, the meaning sinking in.

This is to certify that the star, Vega, in the constellation of Lyra has been named in honour of Y/N L/N.

You look up at them in disbelief, your heart swelling with emotion. “You…you bought me a star?”

And not just any star, but Vega, one of the brightest stars in the night sky. It appears mostly in summer, which is exactly the season you all started dating, the same season in which you saw the beautiful star and marvelled at all its hope and wonder. It represented you, the puppies knew that, you shine brighter than anyone else in their life, and with the sun unable to purchase, Vega was the next best thing.

Jake nods, his eyes filled with excitement. “To show you that you’re always a part of our universe.”

Sunghoon steps closer, his hand resting on the small of your back. “We wanted something that would last forever, just like…well, just like us.”

Tears well in your eyes, not because of the star or the gifts, but because of the love behind them - the thought, the care, the intention to make you feel special in a way only they could. You’re at a loss for words, but your expression says it all. They’ve made you feel like the centre of the universe.

“Thank you,” you whisper, your voice thick with emotion as you look between them.

Jake pulls you into another tight hug while Sunghoon rests his hand on your back, the solid warmth of his presence grounding you in the moment. They’re everything to you, and today, they’ve made sure you know how much you mean to them.

Sunghoon moves closer, his hand steady on your back as his other gently cups your cheek, wiping away the tears that have slipped down without you even noticing. His touch is delicate, and the concern in his eyes makes your heart ache with tenderness. “You’re so precious to us, Y/N,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper. “I know this might not be much, but I hope you like it.”

You let out a quiet scoff, the absurdity of his words catching you off guard. Not much? How could he possibly think that? This - all of this - was more than anything anyone had ever done for you. The decorations, the gifts, the thought they had put into every detail...It was overwhelming, in the best possible way. You shake your head, a mixture of disbelief and affection swirling within you.

“Not much?” you repeat, your voice thick with emotion. “Are you kidding? This is everything. More than I could have wanted.”

“Good,” Jake exclaims behind you, “Because we aren’t done yet.”

Jake's grin grows impossibly wider as he bounces on his heels, clearly unable to contain his excitement. You tilt your head at him, feigning curiosity. "What do you mean?" you ask, eyeing him playfully.

Leaning into your ear, Sunghoon’s low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine. His breath brushes the sensitive skin just below your earlobe, making your heart race a little faster. “Jake’s set up a few games for us to play. His idea, not mine," he murmurs, his lips grazing your ear in a way that feels both teasing and intimate. "I can’t take credit if you enjoy it,” he adds before nibbling at your earlobe, a subtle smirk playing on his lips. “But if you don’t, I’m definitely not taking the blame.”

His mischievous whisper ignites warmth in your chest, but before you can respond, Jake comes bounding back, arms full of props. He’s beaming, the kind of uncontainable energy that only comes from him in moments like this - utterly contagious.

“Okay!” Jake exclaims, barely containing his excitement. “So, you need to choose between one and three.” He hides the items behind his back, swaying his hips like an eager child waiting for you to pick. His whole body vibrates with anticipation, his floppy ears bouncing slightly as he waits, his grin impossibly wide. He’s so irresistibly adorable like this that you can’t help but laugh softly at his excitement.

You look up at the ceiling, pretending to think long and hard, your eyes dancing with playful mischief. The corners of your lips twitch as you hum dramatically, one finger resting on your chin. “Hmm... let’s go with one!” you announce, drawing the word out for effect.

Jake’s excitement explodes as he reveals his choice: two large, fuzzy fake tails in a variety of colours. Sunghoon’s immediate groan is deep and regretful, contrasting sharply with Jake’s pure glee.

“Not this one,” Sunghoon mutters under his breath, sounding utterly exasperated.

Curiosity piqued, you raise an eyebrow. “What is it?” you ask, looking between the two of them. Their polar opposite reactions have you intrigued.

“Pin the tail on the hybrid,” they answer in unison - Sunghoon’s voice low and filled with immediate regret, while Jake practically bounces with enthusiasm.

Jake clearly had a hand in creating this game and you can't help but laugh as the details slowly click into place. Since hybrids like Jake and Sunghoon, who are part of the newer generation, don’t have tails, Jake had come up with the idea of mimicking a playful, somewhat childish game like ‘Pin the Tail on the Donkey,’ but with a hybrid twist.

"Wait-" you laugh, holding your sides as the image fully forms in your mind, "Is it a butt plug or something?"

Both of them freeze, looking at you with wide eyes and a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"No!" Jake shakes his head so vigorously that his floppy ears bounce wildly. "Blindfolding you and having you wielding a metal butt plug doesn’t sound very safe." His lips twist in playful dismay, but he quickly regains his sunny disposition, his excitement bouncing back full force. “I’ve got little Velcro patches, see? We each take turns, and you try and pin it on us until you get one right.”

You’re still giggling, the absurdity of it all getting to you. “So, I’m pinning tails on you guys?”

“Yes…” Sunghoon groans again, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s...so embarrassing.” He sounds thoroughly defeated, but you know him too well by now. There’s no real annoyance behind his words - just that reluctant indulgence that comes when Jake’s happiness is at stake. And there’s something adorable about how much he’s willing to go along with Jake’s excitement, even if it isn’t to his taste.

Jake skips over to Sunghoon with unrestrained glee and, without any warning, gives Sunghoon’s backside a playful smack, placing the large Velcro circle right where it needs to go. “You’re first, Hoonie!” Jake declares with a mischievous grin, fluttering his lashes at the Border Collie.

Sunghoon sighs, resigned to his fate. “Great,” he mutters, shooting you a look that’s half annoyed, half amused as he walks over to the couch, using the armrest as an X on the ground.

Not wasting any time, Jake turns to you with the blindfold in his hand, eyes gleaming with joy. “Your turn, Y/N.” He steps closer, moving with a deliberate slowness that makes the air between you spark with a new kind of tension.

As he reaches up to gently tie the blindfold around your head, his fingers graze the nape of your neck, sending goosebumps down your spine. His movements are slow, almost sensual. You feel the softness of the fabric brush against your skin as he secures the blindfold, but it’s the way his lips hover close to your neck that really makes your breath catch.

Jake doesn’t stop there. He lets his lips trail a gentle kiss down the curve of your neck, his breath warm and teasing against your skin. “You look so good like this,” he murmurs softly, his voice dripping with playful affection. It’s a mix of excitement and something deeper - something that sends your pulse racing.

If there is one thing Jake loves to do, it’s send your mind in a tizzy. Behind all the fun and gleefulness of his nature, comes those dog-like sexual urges. He changes so rapidly that you get emotional whiplash, only adding to the tingles you feel all over your body.

This also isn’t the first time he’s blindfolded you, so the memories of those nights with his cock pounding into you as you stare into darkness come flooding back, settling deep into your stomach.

His hands linger on your shoulders, fingers squeezing gently before he steps back, leaving you standing there, blindfolded and just a little breathless.

“You ready?” Jake’s voice is light, teasing, and you can almost hear the grin on his face as he spanks you, much like he did Sunghoon only a minute ago.

You nod, unable to suppress a smile. “Ready.”

With the blindfold in place, you hear Sunghoon shuffle awkwardly in front of you. “This is ridiculous,” he mutters, though there’s a faint hint of amusement in his voice. You can practically hear his smirk, even if you can’t see it.

Jake giggles in the background, clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, baby,” he says, guiding your hands toward one of the tails. “Let’s see how good your aim is.”

As you take a few tentative steps towards Sunghoon, your hand reaches out instinctively, fingers hovering just above his body, ready to feel for the perfect spot. But before you can make contact, Jake’s playful voice cuts through the air.

“No touching! That’s cheating!” he chides, chuckling behind you with a cheeser on his face.

Huffing, you concede to his rules, pulling your hand back and placing it behind your back. You focus harder now, relying on your instincts to guide you. You can hear Sunghoon shifting slightly, likely in quiet amusement at your predicament, but he remains silent, waiting.

With your free hand, you move the tail towards where you think his lower back is, feeling proud of your guess. You press the Velcro onto his body, releasing the fluffy tail with a satisfied nod.

Pulling off the blindfold, you blink a few times to adjust to the light. As your vision clears, you burst into laughter. The tail sits just above Sunghoon’s lower back, nowhere near where it should be. You glance at him, expecting him to grumble, but instead, he’s biting back a smirk, his lips twitching as he stares down at the misaligned tail.

Jake laughs from the side but is supportive, ever your cheerleader. “I think it was okay!” he chirps, always the optimist when it comes to you. To be fair, it was closer than you thought you’d manage.

“Me next!” Jake announces, barely giving you a moment to catch your breath. The game continues, full of light banter and laughter as you go back and forth between pinning tails on Jake and Sunghoon. Each time, you aim for the perfect spot but always fall just a little short, earning chuckles and teasing remarks from both of them.

Finally, after a few failed attempts, you manage to stick a tail exactly where it belongs. You cheer loudly, jumping up and down in triumph. “Knew I could get one!” you exclaim, spinning around in a small victory dance.

As you twirl in triumph, your victory cry still echoing in the air, you catch a glimpse of Jake and Sunghoon exchanging glances. Their smirks deepen, a silent exchange of thoughts that sends a ripple through the room. The laughter fades, and suddenly, the lighthearted atmosphere shifts. There’s a weight to the air now, something simmering beneath the surface. It makes your pulse quicken, a flicker of awareness spreading through you. You feel the intensity in how their eyes trace your movements, lingering a beat too long.

Sunghoon steps forward, his gaze sharp and unwavering, and for the first time in the game, his tone has lost its playful edge. "Put the blindfold back on," he says. His voice, once light and teasing, now carries a gravity that sends a shiver cascading down your spine. It's not a request - it's an instruction. The room seems to tighten around you, the shift in his voice enough to steal the breath from your lungs.

Your fingers tremble slightly as you reach for the blindfold. The fabric feels different this time as you slip it over your eyes, no longer just a tool for the game but something that heightens the tension. Darkness envelops you, and in the absence of sight, your other senses heighten. You feel the thudding of your heart in your chest, the way your breathing speeds up, shallow and anticipatory.

The room falls quiet - eerily so. The only sounds are soft footsteps and the faint rustling of fabric, too faint to locate. Without your sight, every shift in the air feels magnified, every sound sharper. The unmistakable sound of Velcro tearing apart makes you inhale sharply. You can picture it in your mind, the boys silently stripping the patches from their trousers, and though you can’t see, the tension thickens in your throat. You don’t know what they’re planning, but the unspoken intensity between you all leaves your skin prickling.

So you aren’t playing another round…

The moment you realise the game has shifted is when you feel their warmth surrounding you, enclosing you in a cocoon of sensation. Sunghoon's fingers find your waist, his touch firm yet teasing, while Jake's hands glide against your thighs, his fingers brushing against your skin with an excruciatingly slow reverence. The air feels thick, heady, charged with something that goes beyond playfulness, the space between you electric.

Sunghoon’s breath tickles your ear as he leans in, his voice dropping into a sultry murmur that sends shivers down your spine. "How about another game?" he asks, the dark edge in his tone making your knees tremble.

Your throat feels tight as you try to keep your voice steady. "Sure...what one?" you manage to whisper, though your breath is unsteady, betraying the fluttering anticipation in your chest.

"A guessing game," Sunghoon replies smoothly, and even blindfolded, you can sense the smirk on his lips. His fingers move to sweep your hair aside, gathering it loosely at the nape of your neck. His touch lingers there, sending warmth radiating through your skin.

Jake doesn’t miss the opportunity, his lips finding the tender skin of your jaw. He places soft, deliberate kisses, slow and torturous, trailing down to your collarbone. The warmth of his breath fans across your skin, each kiss building a slow, insistent heat that coils deep within you.

Your voice catches. "What...what kind of guessing game?" you ask, your words shaky, barely holding onto the thread of conversation as their touch unravels you.

"You have to guess which one of us is touching you," Sunghoon explains, his voice dripping with mischief as Jake begins to pull your t-shirt from your body, his lips back on your chest as he kisses gently along the top of your breast and down their valley. His lips pause just below your ribcage, his breath warm against your skin, but the heat building inside you is anything but halted.

Your breath hitches. You can’t help but let out a soft gasp as Jake’s kisses become more insistent, his mouth grazing your skin, making it impossible to concentrate. His hands hover at the waistband of your trousers, fingertips skimming just above your hips, a teasing, electric touch that sends waves of pleasure through your core. Each kiss, each brush of his lips, sets your nerves alight, and you can barely think straight, let alone guess who’s doing what.

A weak laugh escapes you. "Well, that's obviously Jake," you joke, trying to keep up the banter, though your voice is shaky and thin, completely betraying the desire threading through every word. Jake’s lips move lower still, his kisses drawing along your stomach, each one leaving you more breathless than the last. You can feel his breath, warm and tantalising against your skin, and your heart pounds in response, your body humming with need.

Before you can register just how far Jake has taken you, Sunghoon’s hand cups your jaw, tilting your face toward him. His lips meet yours in a kiss so soft, so slow, it melts away any remaining thought. His touch is tender but commanding, pulling you deeper into the moment as his other hand weaves through your hair. The intensity of his kiss drowns out everything else, making you forget who is where, or even that there was a game at all.

When he finally breaks away, Sunghoon’s voice is thick with amusement, a smile lingering on his lips as he murmurs against yours, "It’s not going to be that easy, baby." His words hold a promise, his tone teasing, yet filled with something deeper, something that makes your pulse quicken. Even though you can’t see the mischievous glint in his eyes, you feel it in the way he pulls back just enough to leave you wanting more.

Then, without warning, Sunghoon pushes you gently onto the couch, the plush cushions sinking beneath you as you fall back. He looms over you, ears perked up into points, his presence commanding and filled with intent. The game is no longer just playful; it’s something much more serious now - something charged with tension and need.

“You need to guess correctly…or else,” Sunghoon’s voice is both teasing and dark, a quiet threat hidden beneath his words. It sends a shiver down your spine, the thrill of the unknown building between the three of you.

“Or else what?” you ask, trying to sound defiant but failing miserably as your voice comes out in little more than a breathless whisper. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as you wait for the answer, your body buzzing with excitement and wonder.

Jake chuckles from below, his mouth hovering over your waist, his breath tickling your skin as he speaks. “Or else you don’t get to cum,” he says, his voice playful, but there’s a heat beneath his words that tells you you’re night is going to be a long and teasingly painful one.

But then again, that all depends on you and your guessing abilities.

Sunghoon’s hands glide up your thighs, parting your legs gently as he leans in, his lips brushing the shell of your ear. “And trust me, baby, you’ll want to cum…” His breath fans across your skin, sending goosebumps erupting along your arms.

The combination of their teasing and your own mounting desire creates a cocktail of anticipation that leaves you dizzy. You’re torn between the thrill of the game and the very real yearning for release. You can feel the heat radiating from both of them, their excitement palpable as they prepare to test your ability to guess who is who.

“Okay,” you manage to whisper, trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’ll try.” You don’t want to give in too easily, but the way their touches make your body sing makes it increasingly difficult to think straight.

Jake giggles, the sound light and carefree despite the charged atmosphere. “Let’s see if you can guess who’s touching you,” he says, still hovering at your waist, the anticipation palpable in his tone. You can feel the warmth of his body radiating toward you, heightening your senses even more.

“Ready for a little practice before the real game begins?” Sunghoon asks, his voice low and seductive. You nod, your heart pounding as the thrill of the unknown rushes through you.

With both of them positioned strategically around you, you can barely keep track of where they are. The game begins with Sunghoon’s fingers trailing down your sides, exploring the curves of your body with a feather-light touch. It sends shivers racing down your spine, and you bite your lip to suppress a moan.

“Who’s this?” he asks, his voice smooth and sultry, urging you to focus.

“Sunghoon?” you guess, feeling the familiar warmth and the teasing nature of his touch.

“Correct,” he replies, a smirk evident in his tone. But before you can fully revel in your success, Jake’s hands slip around your waist, his fingers playing with the hem of your trousers, teasing you with a brush of his lips along your skin.

The golden retriever's long fingers undo your jeans button and pull them down, your hips lifting instinctively to help get them off, showcasing your eagerness to play their game. Jake discards them, tossing them so they hit a few of your birthday balloons scattered on the floor.

Both of them stand towering over you as you sink into the couch, heart pounding with happiness and anticipation as you breathe out shakily. You hear them switch places a few times, circling one another in an attempt to trick you. But you know your puppy hybrids better than anyone in the world, and you certainly know how they both touch you.

This should be easy. A walk in the park.

Giving each other a look, Sunghoon and Jake both kneel down in front of you, smirks plastered on their faces and excitement evident in their growing members, concealed by their trousers. You can feel their eyes on you, drinking in the sight of you sprawled on the couch, your body reacting to the closeness of their touch. The heat between you all is palpable, and it sends a fresh wave of arousal coursing through your veins.

Without a word, they move in synchrony, their hands gently tugging at the waistband of your thong. One of them, most likely Jake from the playful way his fingers brush against your skin, hooks his fingers into the lace fabric and begins to pull it down. His touch is soft yet deliberate, teasing you with the slow pace as the fabric slides down your thighs.

You lift your hips, allowing them to fully strip you, your skin flushing with warmth as your body is exposed to their gaze. There’s a moment of stillness as the thong hits the floor, and you can feel both sets of eyes on you.

Sunghoon’s hands are the first to make contact again, his palms gliding over your hips before settling on your thighs, spreading them apart gently but firmly. His movements are slow, measured, and you can feel his breath ghosting over your inner thighs, so close yet not close enough. Jake, on the other hand, remains at your waist, his lips brushing the sensitive skin of your stomach, teasing kisses trailing lower.

They seem to have fallen into a rhythm, taking turns with their touches, each one designed to make you squirm in anticipation. The contrast between Sunghoon’s steady, calculated touch and Jake’s more playful, teasing approach is driving you to the edge, the tension building with every second. You can easily guess who is who right now.

But how much longer?

Gripping your ankles, each of the puppies lifts a leg, placing it gently over one of their shoulders. Their bodies are now intertwined together, making this game more difficult; their voices and touches are all coming from one place, and with your mind set on a high of horny, clouds are forming your judgement.

With your legs draped over their broad shoulders, the pressure of their firm grips against your thighs and the heat of their breath makes it impossible to focus on anything but them. Each breath you take is shallow, and the room feels electric, thick with the tension they’ve woven into the air. You try to steady yourself, but your mind is already spinning, teetering between confusion and desire as they work in tandem.

The hybrid aspect of them is something you’ve become accustomed to in daily life - their heightened senses, and the way they move with an innate grace. But now, their abilities seem even further elevated, their touches more precise, almost animalistic. It’s like they’re hunting you, knowing exactly how to drive you wild without giving you what you crave.

The golden retriever hybrid, starts first, his tongue flicking out to give the lightest of touches to your clit. The sensation is maddening. It’s so gentle you almost don’t know it’s happening, but the effect it has on you is immediate. A ripple of heat shoots through you, making you squirm, but before you can even process the sensation, his mouth pulls away. Your legs twitch, instinctively trying to move closer to any of their mouths, but he keeps his distance, his hands gripping your thighs to keep you still.

Your breath catches as you feel the faintest brush of lips - no, teeth - against the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. Jake’s hybrid nature makes his bites more playful, but there’s a sharp edge to it that sends goosebumps over your skin. He grazes his teeth over your thigh before sinking in just enough to leave a mark. You gasp, the sting quickly replaced by warmth, and the pulsing heat of your growing arousal.

And then...they switch. You can’t see them, but you can feel the subtle differences in their movements, yet it’s hard to know who is touching you at any given moment. One of them trails their fingers down your side, slow and feather-light, sending shivers all the way down your spine. It’s the gentleness that throws you off. Jake is usually more eager, a little more frantic, but this touch...it’s deliberate, controlled. It must be Sunghoon, you think, but as the fingers curl around your waist, the next lick to your clit has you second-guessing everything.

"Unfair," you breathe out, your voice betraying your frustration. Their soft chuckles are the only response, and the way they both sound so amused makes your stomach tighten with anticipation. You think you hear Jake’s distinctive laugh, that bright, carefree sound, but then a warm breath against your stomach has your mind spinning again. You can’t keep track of who’s where, their movements seamless, like two wolves circling their prey.

Another agonisingly slow lick - Sunghoon, maybe? - and you buck your hips forward, trying to chase the sensation. Before you can go any further, teeth sink into your other thigh, another mark, another reminder of their strength. His soft, canine growl sends a thrill of excitement through you, but you’re torn between which sensation to focus on - the teasing bite or the flick of a tongue against your most sensitive spot.

Desperate for something to hold onto, your hand instinctively reaches down, fingers tangling in the nearest head of hair, but before you can fully grab hold, a hand swats yours away. “No touching,” Sunghoon commands, his voice low and controlled; it’s too easy if you feel their ears, both hybrids distinctive just by their shape alone. You drop your hands, frustrated but obedient, gripping the cushions beneath you instead as you moan out in helpless need.

They switch again, and now there’s no way to tell who is doing what. Jake’s usually sloppy enthusiasm and Sunghoon’s precise control blend together so seamlessly it feels like they’re working as one. The sensation of their tongues flicking against you is almost maddening. Slow, singular licks that keep you on the edge, but never quite tipping you over. It’s a maddening torment, like a slow burn just beneath your skin.

The heat between your legs grows unbearable as their tongues move with the same deliberate, precise motions, as if they know exactly how to keep you guessing. They’re hybrids, after all - capable of teasing you with both their human intelligence and their canine prowess. And they’re using every bit of that duality to toy with you, their mouths working in a rhythm that’s far too coordinated for your sanity.

A hand moves between your legs, and fingers slide into you slowly, drawing out a long, drawn-out moan from your lips. The stretch feels heavenly, but the pace is infuriating. One finger curls inside you, and your mind races. Sunghoon always moves like this, calculated, hitting the exact spot that makes you see stars. You gasp his name, “Sunghoon,” the word tumbling from your lips in a breathy moan.

The fingers pause for a moment before continuing, confirming your guess with a small squeeze on your thigh, but there’s no verbal answer. Instead, the teasing continues as Jake’s mouth returns to your clit, adding just enough pressure to keep you gasping, but not enough to let you cum.

The world around you fades, a haze settling over your mind as the pleasure intensifies. The rhythmic lapping of two tongues against your folds creates a symphony of sensations that overwhelms your senses. Both Jake and Sunghoon kiss your heat, growling into you as your juices melt along their tongues. It’s as if they’ve perfectly synced their movements, each flick and swirl of their tongues igniting a fire deep within you.

Jake’s mouth works expertly against your clit, the pressure alternating between firm and feather-light, sending shockwaves of bliss coursing through your body. You can barely keep track of who’s who anymore, their hybrid natures blurring the lines between their human dexterity and animalistic instincts. One moment, you feel the warmth of Sunghoon’s fingers curling deep inside you, stretching you, filling you in a way that makes your back arch and your breaths come out in desperate gasps. The next, Jake’s playful tongue sweeps over you, teasing and tantalising, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

As more fingers sink into your heat, the delicious stretch turns into something euphoric, each thrust inside you mixing with the delightful flick of tongues around your clit. Your body responds instinctively, thrusting forward, seeking more as you become lost in the sensations they’re creating. It’s an exquisite torture, every nerve ending alight, every touch sending you spiralling deeper into a world of pleasure.

“Please,” you beg, the word slipping from your lips in a breathless whimper, but it’s swallowed by the sounds of their movements. You’re a mess of need and desire, the heat pooling in your core building to an unbearable level as they work you closer to the edge. It’s like they’re reading your body, understanding the ebb and flow of your pleasure better than you do yourself.

Sunghoon focuses on his fingers scissor inside you, curling just right, while Jake alternates between suckling and licking your clit, ensuring that every sensation is heightened. You can feel your climax tightening, like a coiled spring ready to snap, but just as you think you’re about to tumble over, they pull back slightly, slowing their pace to keep you hovering right on the brink.

“God, don’t stop!” you cry out, the frustration laced with desperation. They only chuckle, the sound low and teasing, as if relishing in your torment. It’s maddening, and yet, it sends another wave of heat coursing through you.

Then, with no warning, they both lean in closer, their mouths working in unison, each tongue exploring every inch of you. It’s as if they’ve forgotten all the rules of teasing and have decided to push you over the edge together. The sensation is overwhelming, the combination of their soft, wet tongues swirling around your sensitive core and the expert thrusts of Sunghoon’s fingers. You feel your body arching, trembling under their skilled ministrations as your mind starts to blur, the world outside slipping away completely.

“Y/N…guess, baby,” Sunghoon whispers, but it’s muffled by the rush of blood in your ears. You’re too far gone, too lost in the sensations to respond, too consumed by the need surging through you.

With every lap of their tongues, every curl of their fingers, they bring you closer and closer to that precipice. You can feel it building, a tight knot of pleasure coiling within you, and as they pick up their pace, the intensity increases, making your breaths come in short gasps. You’re teetering, just one more push away from falling over the edge into bliss, but they don’t give you that release just yet.

You feel Jake’s mouth pull back momentarily, but before you can process the loss, Sunghoon’s fingers plunge deeper, hitting that sweet spot that has you crying out his name again, louder this time. The sound reverberates off the walls, mixing with the cacophony of your heavy breathing and the wet sounds of their tongues.

“Come on, baby,” Jake urges, his voice low and sultry, but the words barely register as another wave of pleasure washes over you, leaving you breathless. You grip the cushions tightly, knuckles white with the effort to hold on, but it’s becoming increasingly difficult.

Jake’s mouth returns to your clit with a renewed fervour, his tongue swirling around it in that way only he knows how, your guess at the tip of your tongue. His lips seal around you, creating the perfect amount of pressure, sending jolts of pleasure shooting up your spine. It’s a feeling so familiar, yet it never loses its power to make your body melt under his touch.

Your back arches off the couch, a sharp cry escaping your lips. “Jake! Fuck, Jake,” you gasp, the words tumbling out as the sensations crash over you in waves and your final guess is made. Your hands have enough of grasping the cushions beside you and fly to his hair, his floppy ears weaving through your fingers as you tug harshly,, knuckles white, as you try to steady yourself against the overwhelming pleasure surging through your veins.

Growling and whimpering at your harsh pulls, Jake’s body vibrates. His pretty dog ears are sensitive, they love to be nibbled, pulled, and played with. It’s something you and Sunghoon do often, loving the way his voice cracks and chest shakes with happiness.

“Good girl,” Sunghoon murmurs, his voice low and approving, the sound deepening the haze of pleasure clouding your mind. He knows it’s technically both of them that have worked you to the edge, but it’s Jake’s expert tongue that is the finisher. He watches Jake devour you with a smirk, clearly enjoying the sight of you completely at their mercy. His hand slides to Jake’s head, his fingers gently scratching behind Jake’s ears, massaging the sensitive spot just right as you let go of your grip slightly. “You win this round, baby. Cum over Jake’s mouth whenever you want.”.

Jake lets out a soft, deep sound, almost like a purr, and the vibration travels through his tongue, sending shivers through your already trembling body. The added sensation is too much, your whole body responding to the combined stimulation. You can feel the low rumble of Jake’s contentment reverberating through you, the sound mixing with the intense pleasure he’s drawing from your clit.

Withdrawing his fingers from you to allow Jake easier access, Sunghoon licks them clean. His eyes roll to the back of his head as he tastes you, palming himself through his jeans. He knows Jake likes to lap you to completion, so he will always give him that privilege, but man does he wish he would be selfish for once and have you wash over his tongue

Your moans become louder, breathless, your body strung so tightly on the edge that it feels like you’re going to snap at any moment. Jake’s tongue flicks over your clit faster, his lips sucking gently but firmly, keeping you right at the edge. Sunghoon’s fingers in his hair encourage him, the gentle pats turning into slow, methodical scratches, making Jake purr even louder.

The combination of Jake’s relentless mouth and the teasing vibrations drives you wild. Your body quivers, and you gasp as your orgasm starts to build, your hips bucking towards Jake’s mouth, desperate for more. Every flick of his tongue, every hum from his purr sends you spiraling further into pleasure, and you know you’re right on the brink, just a breath away from falling over completely.

“Come on, baby. Let go,” Sunghoon coaxes softly, his tone dark and dripping with satisfaction, knowing full well how close you are.

That’s all it takes. Your body arches, your back lifting off the couch as you finally tumble over the edge. A broken cry rips from your throat as your orgasm crashes over you, waves of pleasure consuming you completely. Your vision blurs and your entire body quakes as the ecstasy pulses through your veins, overwhelming and all-encompassing.

The puppy's tongue slows but doesn’t stop, drawing out every last tremor from your body until you’re left a trembling mess beneath them. You slump back against the couch, chest heaving, your entire body alight with the lingering aftershocks of your release.

Pulling away slowly, Jake’s mouth leaves your sensitive core, but not without placing a few soft, lingering kisses on the inside of your thighs, trailing up toward your hip. His lips are gentle now, in contrast to the intensity of moments before, and each kiss is a tender reminder of the care and attention he’s always given you. Your body hums with the remnants of pleasure, still tingling in the aftermath of your climax.

His breath tickles your skin as he murmurs against your thigh, “The game isn’t over, baby.”

Before you can catch your breath or even respond, Sunghoon’s strong arms slip beneath you. In one smooth motion, he lifts you up, and your legs dangle in the air as he carries you, positioning you over the back of the couch. Your palms rest against the soft cushions, bracing yourself as your body arches naturally, wanting more of them. The fabric presses against your chest, heightening your awareness of every inch of your body. The blindfold remains secure much to your dismay, but you don’t grumble.

Guessing this should be easy, each of their cocks imprinted into your brain, both beautiful but so unique. Jake, who is thick and long, stands straight and always hits that sweet spot deep inside you. Whereas, Sunghoon is skinnier but curved to the right, always angling himself perfectly to drag along your sensitive walls.

Behind you, Jake and Sunghoon exchange a glance, their mischievous smiles fading slightly as the unspoken competition between them resumes. Unbeknownst to you, they square up for a quick, playful round of rock-paper-scissors. A soft sound of irritation escapes Sunghoon’s throat as Jake wins, his tongue sticking out in mock victory as he flashes a grin Sunghoon’s way.

Sunghoon’s furry ears pin back in annoyance, his eyes narrowing, but there’s no real anger in his expression - just begrudging respect for the outcome of their game. “Damn it,” he mutters under his breath so you can’t hear, stepping back to allow Jake to take his place behind you, even though you can practically feel his impatience radiating off him.

Jake wastes no time. His shirt is off in an instant, the muscles of his chest and arms flexing as he throws the fabric aside. The sight of his bare skin, glowing with a light sheen of sweat, makes Sunghoon swallow thickly. His trousers follow, hitting the floor with a soft thud, and you can sense the eagerness in the moves, positioning himself behind you.

Sunghoon, feeling the heat swirl in his blood follows suit, peeling off his clothes just as quickly, though, with an air of frustration, his eyes never leaving the curve of your body bent over the couch. He inches forward, watching intently as Jake prepares to claim you, waiting for his own turn with palpable hunger.

Jake runs his hands over your hips, sliding up your waist as he leans in, pressing a kiss to the small of your back. His warmth engulfs you, and you can feel the hard length of him pressing against you. The anticipation in the air thickens, and your body tingles in response, ready for whatever comes next.

Sliding his boxers down just enough, the golden hybrid’s cock springs free, his hand gripping around it and pumping in glee. He can’t wait to be inside of you. Although you might guess who it is right away, he is going to try and make it difficult, already planning to switch up his rhythm to trick you somehow.

You feel the tip of a cock press against your aching hole, already desperately squeezing around nothing as you wait in anticipation. You hate waiting, you’ve never been a very patient person, particularly in situations like these, so the teasing from the hybrid behind you is making you mewl out in both frustration and want. It’s not like you can even see anything in front of you to help distract you, the blindfold doing it’s just a little too well.

Creeping up behind Jake, Sunghoon’s fingers dip into the boy’s boxers and pull them down, his body dipping down with them until his face is at Jake’s soft butt. Sunghoon wouldn’t call himself an ass man, he would take your tits over anything else, but something about his boyfriend’s ass just speaks to him, making him want to mark it and bite it. But before he can get too carried away, he has to remember that this is your birthday, and all of his attention should be on you.

That doesn’t mean he can’t have a little fun while you’re preoccupied.

With a smirk on his lips, he places gentle kisses on Jake’s right cheek, then the left, letting his mouth trail up Jake’s back and shoulders, enjoying the warmth of his boyfriend’s skin against his own. Jake turns his head slightly, confusion evident on his face as he tries to catch a glimpse of what Sunghoon is up to, but Sunghoon grips Jake’s hips firmly, preventing any further investigation.

“What are you doing?” Jake whispers, making sure you can’t sneakily figure out that it is in fact his cock two seconds away from pushing inside of you.

Shrugging, Sunghoon pecks the other puppy’s lips. “I’m having some fun…and I’m gonna help you out,” he whispers, the words flowing like silk, so soft that Jake might have missed them entirely if not for his canine senses catching every nuance. Yet, it leaves Jake puzzled, his expression a mixture of confusion and curiosity.

Tilting his head slightly, Jake silently asks for clarity, but Sunghoon nudges him forward with a few gentle fingers at the back of his head. “Focus on her. Make our girl feel extra good,” he instructs, a playful yet commanding tone lacing his voice. It’s not like Jake needs to be told twice, he loves burying himself inside of you, thrusting his hips until you’re a moaning, whimpering mess beneath him.

While they conspire about god knows what, you begin to slide back, pushing onto the cock, trying to devour it out of pure greed and impatience. But as quickly as you feel the delicious bell stretch your hole, it’s quickly taken away from you. It’s fucking infuriating, so much so that you huff out loud and groan.

“This isn’t fair. This is my birthday, y’know,” you point out matter-of-factly, hoping to remind them that today should be dedicated to you, to your pleasure. Surely your 21st birthday should revolve around indulgence, not this agonising denial of the simple pleasures you know both hybrids would willingly give you any other day.

Suddenly, you feel a sharp smack against your cheek, the force of it making your back arch, sending a sting shooting up your spine. “It is your birthday, so you should be grateful Jakey here came up with such a great game for us to play,” Sunghoon growls, his tone deep yet lacking malice. Instead, there’s an undercurrent of authority, a reminder that if you push too far, this delightful game could end before you’ve even begun to enjoy it. “Say thank you to Jake for setting this up for you, be grateful.”

As the sting from his slap dissipates, you feel a gentle hand soothing the reddened mark, an unmistakable touch that could only belong to Jake. He never liked when you received harsh marks unless they were pretty little hickeys; the tenderness he displays is a testament to his nurturing nature, balancing out Sunghoon’s authoritative presence. It’s why the three of you work so well as a couple.

With a playful pout, you huff out, “Fine, fine. Thank you, Jake.” The words slip out, albeit begrudgingly. You are thankful to him, to both of them. No one gives you this sort of effort and love like the the two boys who stand behind you. Plus, they wouldn’t be doing all of this if they knew you were going to hate it. They know fine well that this will be a new game you’ll play a lot more of.

Sunghoon’s assertiveness is a thrill for you, a dance of power and surrender. He’s not entirely dominant, but he definitely holds authority over both you and Jake. You relish this side of him, especially in moments like this, even if you grumble. There’s an undeniable thrill in being commanded, the excitement of receiving praise for your compliance.

As you settle back into the moment, still completely oblivious to who’s cock you are desperatley trying to seek the comfort of, Sunghoon’s hands glide along Jake’s body, guiding him back toward you. The heat radiating off both hybrids sends shivers down your spine, heightening the anticipation of what’s to come.

Licking his plump lips, Jake pumps his cock a few times, lining it up at your entrance. Although it’s your celebration, the pup suddenly feels like it’s his own birthday, the throb of his cock exhibiting his excitement to be nestled inside your walls. So, without much warning, he slides into you, filling you up so beautifully.

You can’t even try and decipher who it is just yet, the satisfaction of your craving finally being fulfilled is clouding your judgement and your body is only screaming blissful a chain of ‘yes, yes, fuck yes’ into your mind. Moaning loudly, you push back as far as you can, begging with your body for him to stay there for a moment.

Complying, Jake waits until you have adjusted, though with Sunghoon’s fingers scissoring you open earlier, it doesn’t take long for the stretch to turn to comfort and ease. Your cunt is Jake’s favourite thing in the whole world - its taste, the way it moulds perfectly around him, and certainly the way it squeezes his cock. Being a hybrid comes with advantages, and his senses are immensely heightened. While you need a blindfold to be more attuned to your smell or hearing, Jake lives like that constantly. He can hear every breathless gasp coming from your lips as he drags his member along your canal, the ridges of your walls making him feel even better than if he were just human.

Jake starts slow, thrusting in and out of you with agonising deliberateness. He’s trying to catch you off guard, and you can tell by how foreign the movements are to you. None of them have ever fucked you like this before, making it harder to play their guessing game. You have to get this right. If you don’t, then you’ll be denied your release, and considering how perfect your first one was, you don’t want to miss out on multiple moments of euphoria.

Behind Jake, Sunghoon grips his hips tightly, guiding him in and out of you with a fervour that makes Jake groan with pleasure. He feels the pressure building with each thrust, the warmth of your body enveloping him, drawing him deeper into bliss. Each thrust is met with delicious friction, and each drawback is met with Sunghoon’s bulge dry humping him. He can’t help but revel in the sensation. The heat radiating off your skin is intoxicating, and he relishes the feeling of your slickness coating him as he moves.

You’re both utterly consumed by the rhythm, Jake’s mind swimming in a haze of pleasure. Each thrust sends a wave of warmth through his body, and he’s acutely aware of how tightly you’re gripping him, how perfectly you fit around him. The delicious squeeze of your walls makes him ache for more, each movement sending shocks of ecstasy radiating through him. He bites down on his lip to stifle a moan, his brow furrowing in concentration as he fights to maintain control while also surrendering to the pleasure washing over him.

As you move beneath him, your breaths quicken, and every sound you make fuels the fire within him. Your body shifts, pushing back against him, and the way you arch your back sends a rush of adrenaline through his veins. You’re a vision of pure ecstasy, and the sight alone is enough to drive him wild. He finds himself instinctively matching your movements, thrusting deeper with each push, allowing the waves of pleasure to wash over him.

Noticing Jake fall back into his typical frenzied rhythm, Sunghoon bites down on his neck, causing him to whine out, his ears jumping at the sudden sharp pain. “Follow my lead, don’t get carried away. We want this night to last, don’t we?” The dark-haired boy whispers into Jake’s ear, kissing down his neck to soothe the mark.

Nodding, Jake nuzzles Sunghoon’s cheek in apology, his breath hitching slightly as he feels his boyfriend’s warmth radiating against him. He understands the importance of pacing; you’ve already cum once, and if they want this night to continue, you’ll need time between each orgasm to keep up with their animalistic sex drive. Jake feels a surge of determination to make sure you feel good, his instincts kicking in as he returns to a more measured rhythm, albeit with the primal undertone of urgency that he can’t fully shake off.

Sunghoon’s hands guide Jake’s hips, the pressure of his grip firm yet gentle, reminding him of the control they’re both meant to maintain. As Jake follows Sunghoon’s lead once again, he can’t help but relish the feeling of you wrapped around him, your body clenching as he pulls back before pushing in again. Each thrust brings with it a new wave of pleasure that sends ripples through his body. You feel perfect, and that thought alone is enough to push him to the brink of his own release.

As Sunghoon’s fingers trace the line of Jake’s spine, the hybrid feels the tension within him coil tighter, the electric connection between the three of you simmering with intensity.

“Go on, baby girl. Guess.”

Not now. You mentally whine as you feel the coil in your stomach build and build. You’re so close and yet you have no fucking clue who’s cock is taking you to the stars. Jake is fast, a little sloppy in the best way but harsh, and Sunghoon is skilled and forceful, but with a sense of gentleness in the way he pulls back.

None of this is happening right now. It’s like the perfect balance of both.

The way they work in tandem creates a delicious confusion, each of them pushing you toward the edge, yet holding you back just enough to keep you guessing. As your body begins to respond instinctively, you let the sensations wash over you, focusing on the bliss they’re creating together.

You take a few moments, your mind racing as you contemplate your guess, but suddenly the rhythm shifts. What was once a barrage of piercing thrusts transforms into quick, deliberate movements, each one aiming for that perfect spot inside you. The change catches you off guard, sending sparks of pleasure racing up your spine. It feels different, the thrusts more measured and calculated, as if both hybrids are working together to keep you on that tightrope between ecstasy and overwhelming bliss.

Sunghoon smirks as he adjusts his position, shifting behind Jake, holding him impossibly close. The connection between them feels primal, a bond of instinctual dominance as he continues to hump Jake’s ass, matching his movements and melding their bodies together as he joins in on your fun.

A high pitched whine comes from Jake as he loses rhythm slightly to focus on his own pleasure. Sunghoon is doing most of the work now, using his gyrating hips to guide Jake inside of you at a fast pace. All the while, his hands find their way to your nub, the teasing touch igniting a fire deep within you.

With each rub, the confusion only deepens; the sensations blend into one intoxicating cocktail of pleasure. The fingers work in a back-and-forth motion like Sunghoon does, rather than the circular movements from Jake, drawing sharp gasps from your lips as you struggle to piece together the puzzle of your pleasure. The connection between the thrusts and fingers becomes a symphony of sensation that sends you spiralling.

And you take a wild, semi-educated guess.

“Sunghoon! It’s Sunghoon. Fuck, please let me cum.” The words tumble from your mouth in a desperate plea, and the moment you clamp down around the cock filling you, everything suddenly pulls away from you. It’s as if the universe pauses for a brief moment, the pleasure you were chasing slipping just out of reach.

The abruptness of it leaves you gasping, the emptiness you feel is aching like no other pain you have ever felt before. The confusion of who was taking you to the stars swirls in your mind. It feels unfair, like a cruel twist of fate on your birthday. The room grows quiet except for you and Jake’s panting. Shit. You got it wrong. But you were sure those were Sunghoon’s fingers…and he was right behind you.

Wasn’t he?

Turning to face the other hybrid, Jake looks at him with pain and frustration. He was so close to filling you up, giving you the greatest gift of all and yet he was denied it all so suddenly.

His reaction makes Sunghoon laugh, his hand coming up to pet Jake’s disappointed ears. “I’m sorry, pup, she got it wrong. You made the rules, remember.”

“Fuck the rules,” Jake pouts, his hand pumping his cock in a desperate rhythm to relieve the ache building within him. “I need to cum.”

“And you will, Jakey. As soon as she gets the next guess right, we’ll all be cumming.” Sunghoon’s voice drips with promise as he pecks his lips gently, easing Jake’s frustration but heightening the tension in your body. The prospect of getting it wrong again sends shivers of anxiety coursing through you. If you miss this chance, you’ll be left not only with blue balls for both hybrids but also with a very frustrated, very needy pup on your hands.

Jake nods in agreement, even if the simmering frustration lingers in his expression. He gently lifts you from your position over the couch, your body tingling with anticipation. The blindfold still obscures your vision, but Jake’s zephyr-like hands are hard to mistake. You feel them guide you, their warmth radiating around your waist. You sit on the couch and await further instructions. God you want to see them so bad, to touch them and cum all over them. That is what you want to wish for on your birthday.

The moment you’re seated, Sunghoon finally discards his boxers, leaving all of you naked and exposed, each member aching with desire and needing release. The air is thick with the scent of lust and heat, and you can feel the tension rising. Both of them sit at either side of you, hands flying to roam over your body. The sensation of skin against skin sends waves of excitement through your body as you shift slightly, feeling the soft cushions of the couch beneath you.

“We’ll make this one so easy for you, baby,” Jake smiles into your neck, nuzzling his nose into you as he lifts the aura of your scent. You smell like a mixture of him, Sunghoon and sex, his favourite combination.

Sunghoon presses his chest to your back, kissing the other side of your nape. You’re so beautiful and he has been so patient with this night, but he’s losing his control. Border Collie hybrids are very good at self-restraint, yet, all of that resolve crumbles as soon as you are involved. You have a spell over him, call it a soulmate blanket or whatever, but he just knows that he cannot get enough of you.

Jake, ever playful and eager, has grown impatient, his hybrid instincts taking over any sense of restraint. With a low growl, he scoops you into his lap, his thick cock already leaking with precum as it slides teasingly between your folds. His touch is filled with both affection and hunger, and his excitement is palpable in every movement. His retriever nature means he’s always been a little less controllable, but that’s what you love about him.

With the position you’re in, there’s no way you could mistake which one will be inside your pussy and the other taking your other entrance.

At least, that’s what you thought.

When Jake finally pushes into you, a loud, blissful moan escapes him, his chest vibrating with a purr of contentment. His big hands grasp your waist, guiding you up and down his length with a rhythm that has you arching back in pleasure. Your head falls against his shoulder, your breath coming out in soft, needy gasps.

“Jake, please…” you beg, though you’re not even sure what you’re pleading for. The ache between your thighs is insistent, a sweet agony that makes you feel like you might unravel at any moment. Your clit pulses in desperate need, still unsatisfied from the previous teasing.

Through your blindfold, you feel Jake’s gentle pout even though you can’t see it. “My good girl,” he whispers, his hips thrusting up powerfully, driving himself deep into you. The combination of his praises and his cock pressing perfectly inside you has you trembling in his lap, each movement sending shockwaves through your body.

He captures your lips in a tender kiss, slow at first, teasing you by pulling away when you silently beg for more. The softness of his lips against yours creates a stark contrast to the intense heat building between you both, and soon, you’re lost in the intimacy of the moment, despite the raw need in your body.

Meanwhile, Sunghoon has been watching with adoration, his pointed ears twitching as he observes the two of you. He loved to see the two of his partners connect like this, the scenes so sweet despite the crude nature of your actions. But his cock is hard, throbbing with a need that matches his longing gaze and he refuses to sit in the sidelines much longer. He shifts closer, the heat from his body making your skin prickle in anticipation. He’s been waiting patiently, but now, his own desire overtakes him.

He moves behind you, hands gentle but firm as he guides his cock into position, the tip pressing against you in a way that takes you by surprise, your ass feeling empty despite the expectancy.

“Sunghoon - what are you…” You gasp, your breath hitching as the sensation of his cock pressing alongside Jake’s makes your heart race. The stretching of your cunt is intense, something new and overwhelming, as you feel Sunghoon’s length slowly filling you.

Fuck, it feels good, painful, delicious, and sadistic all at once. And you couldn’t be happier.

Jake’s hands tighten on your waist, holding you steady. “Shh, baby, it’s okay,” he reassures you, though his voice shakes with his own pleasure. The sensation of Sunghoon’s shaft rubbing against his inside you is sending him spiralling into ecstasy. He never imagined sharing you like this would feel so incredible, the friction between their cocks heightening every sensation.

As Sunghoon begins to thrust slowly, Jake’s hips instinctively buck in response, the three of you moving together in perfect harmony. The moans that spill from your lips, mixed with theirs, echo around the room, a symphony of pleasure that fills the space.

Sunghoon leans closer, his breath hot against your neck as his hands join Jake’s on your hips. Without a second thought he tilts his head and captures Jake’s mouth in a heated kiss, their tongues meeting in a dance of lust and affection over your body. The warmth of their connection sends a shiver down your spine, the intimate moment only heightening the heat between the three of you.

Growling into his mouth, Jake brings your hand to his ear, a signal you know all too well. You know exactly what he wants, so you grip his ears and tug harshly, making him open his mouth as he whimpers out and allowing Sunghoon deeper access, his tongue roaming freely around the oldests mouth.

The feeling of both of them inside you, their cocks pressing together as they fill you completely, makes your head spin. The fullness is beyond anything you’ve ever experienced, every thrust making you gasp and cling to Jake’s broad shoulders for support.

Jake’s lips leave Sunghoon’s, panting heavily as he gasps for air. But not for too long, as they hover just above yours again, his breath ragged. He chuckles softly, his voice tinged with amusement and lust. “Take a guess, baby,” he whispers, his lips brushing yours teasingly, “guess who is fucking you and then you can let go.”

Despite the overwhelming sensations, a breathy laugh escapes you, the humour of the moment breaking through the intensity. You look at him, eyes gleaming with love and desire.

“Both of you,” you manage to whisper, your voice shaky but full of affection. “It’s both of you.”

Jake grins, his lips capturing yours in a messy, needy kiss, while Sunghoon’s low growl of satisfaction rumbles in your ear, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate as he savours the way your body reacts.

The sensation of them both inside you, their movements perfectly synchronised, sends you spiralling closer and closer to the edge. Jake’s pace falters beneath you as his release nears, his grip on your hips tightening, his cock throbbing inside you.

“God, you feel so good,” he groans, his voice hoarse with need. “Just let go, love. You can.”

And that’s all it takes. With his words still hanging in the air, your body finally gives in, the pleasure that’s been building within you crashing down like a tidal wave. You cry out, your walls clenching tight around them both as you’re consumed by your orgasm, every nerve alight with white-hot pleasure. Your body trembles uncontrollably, lost in the intensity of the release.

Jake moans your name, his hips jerking as he finds his own release, filling you with his warmth as he groans into your mouth. His cock pulses inside you, the tip of his cock swelling as he knots, the sensation driving you even deeper into the haze of your climax.

Behind you, Sunghoon’s movements grow erratic, his hips slamming into you as he chases his own end. With a low, guttural howl, he thrusts one last time, his length pressing deep before he lets go, filling you completely as his own release takes him over.

Both of their knots are pressed against one another, your walls being pushed and hole stretched to its limit. The pups whine and growl as they lock into you, shooting their load so deep inside of you that you feel your stomach swell slightly. Jake’s eyes roll back as Sunghoon’s cock throbs next to his, creating a natural vibration that he’s relishing in.

For a long moment, the three of you remain connected, your bodies trembling in the aftermath, the heat between you radiating in waves. Your breath comes in shallow pants, your body still trembling as the afterglow settles in. Sunghoon and Jake nuzzle their faces into your neck, rubbing their scent over you, claiming you as theirs.

Jake’s arms wrap around you, holding you close as you come down from the high. Sunghoon, still behind you, presses a soft kiss to your shoulder, his own breathing ragged but calming.

And then, with a tender touch, Sunghoon reaches up to the blindfold that’s been covering your eyes. Slowly, carefully, he unties it, the material slipping away to reveal the warm, golden light of the room and the two men who’ve made this birthday one you’ll never forget.

As your vision clears, you blink up at them both, feeling the love and affection in their gazes as they look back at you. Sunghoon smiles softly, his hybrid ears twitching as he leans in to kiss your cheek. “Happy birthday,” he whispers, his voice filled with warmth.

Jake, still holding you in his lap, grins down at you. “Best birthday ever, right?” he teases, his nose brushing against yours.

You can’t help but laugh, your heart full of affection for them both. “Definitely a top 5.”

Jake’s playful grin falters for a moment as something seems to click in his mind. His golden retriever ears twitch with excitement, standing upright as his tail wags behind him. His heart races, and his eyes widen with sudden realisation.

“We have one more gift,” he announces, voice bubbling with enthusiasm. His arms still hold you close, careful not to pull his knot from you, his hips shifting ever so slightly as he reaches around you with some effort. From behind, he produces a small, velvet-lined blue box, and your heart skips a beat.

You blink in surprise, watching him with curious eyes as he offers it to you, his expression soft but brimming with joy. “Open it,” Jake urges gently, his voice filled with excitement, and you can’t help but smile at his eagerness.

With trembling fingers, you take the box and slowly open the delicate lid, revealing the contents inside. Nestled within are three beautiful silver rings, each adorned with three tiny engraved hearts. Each ring is identical, except for the smallest detail—a single heart on each one is coloured in black. The simplicity of the design is stunning, and your heart swells at the sight of them, the meaning behind the gift slowly dawning on you.

You glance up, eyes wide with emotion, shifting between Jake and Sunghoon. “What… What’s this?” you ask softly, your voice barely above a whisper as the weight of the moment settles over you.

Jake’s smile softens as he nuzzles against your cheek. “Promise rings,” he murmurs. His voice is tender, carrying a depth of affection that makes your chest tighten. “One for each of us,” he explains, his hand gently brushing over yours, guiding your gaze back to the rings.

Sunghoon leans in closer, his fingers tracing the edge of the box, his hybrid ears flicking as he adds quietly, “A promise to always be together… no matter what.” His words are soft, but they carry a gravity that tugs at your heart, and his eyes shine with a sincerity that takes your breath away.

You look between them again, feeling the overwhelming love and warmth radiating from both of them, and tears prick at the corners of your eyes. The rings glisten in the soft light, a physical symbol of the bond you share. You can barely find the words, but the happiness on your face says everything.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you breathe, voice shaky with emotion. But before you can find the words, Jake leans in, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering kiss, silencing any further thoughts.

Sunghoon, not to be left out, moves in as well, his lips brushing against yours from the other side, creating a perfect moment of intimacy between the three of you. The kiss is gentle, filled with love, as Jake and Sunghoon share this tender moment with you, the connection between all of you undeniable. Their hands hold you firmly, grounding you in the affection and promise they offer.

As the kiss deepens, the warmth between you grows, the rings in your hand a reminder of the unbreakable bond that now ties the three of you together. You’re all intertwined, hearts aligned, and the future filled with the promise of love, laughter, and unwavering devotion.

It’s a birthday you’ll never forget, not just because of the pleasure shared, but because of the love that wraps around you now, a love that will only grow stronger from here.

_____

perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21

@diorsyun @heexzbae @yzzyhee @baekhyunstruly @zeeloveshee

@haechonly @berryblog @no-mannerism @jaehoonii

@notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08

@emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove

@heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun

@ivesti @parksunghoonsgf @branchrkive @brownsugarbaybee

@xxbluestrifexx @bambangan @iluvikeu @deobitifull

@yawnazzz @st1llm0nster @woorcve @heeseungsbm

@star-hoon @heelee-01 @wonnienyang @alternativelix

#enhypen smut #enha smut #jake smut #sunghoon smut #sim jaeyun smut #park sunghoon smut #aj writes #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #everyone say happy birthday to my love!

2K notes · View notes

flowersforbucky · 4 months ago

Text

moth to a flame

bucky barnes x reader / winter soldier x reader

"I know you. even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

word count: 4.9k

summary: bucky is triggered into the winter soldier during a mission and then goes MIA, until he seeks you out in the middle of the night.

warnings/tags: SMUT, canon divergence (bucky hasn't been successfully deprogrammed in this), kind of dub-con, language, some violence, reader is afab, no use of y/n, friends with benefits situation, angst with a happy ending, 18+ only

“You've reached Bucky. I can't answer the phone right now but leave me a mess–”

You hang up before the voicemail recording finishes. You already knew he wasn't going to answer, just as he hasn't answered any of the other thirty-something times you've dialed his number over the course of the last few days. Or read any of the two dozen text messages.

The messages had stopped delivering and the calls had started going straight to voicemail almost two days ago at this point. And yet you still got your hopes up every time you checked your phone, only to be met with gut-wrenching, nauseating disappointment.

It had now been three days of this - not to mention picking your cuticles until they bleed, flipping back and forth between every news station on your TV in hopes (and fear) of seeing his name, a few collective hours of sleep each night, and too much Red Bull.

Just when you were thinking about trying to kick your caffeine addiction, too.

Three days of feeling completely and utterly helpless.

You place the phone back down on your coffee table, staring down at the thick, white cast encasing your left leg from your foot to just under your knee.

Useless.

You knew you were doing what you physically could - the spread of laptops and tablets on the table in front of you continuously supplying data from facial recognition programs across the United States.

Realistically, you knew he could be on the other side of the world by now, but that didn't stop you from checking. It was the only thing that you felt you had any control over right now.

But it wasn't enough. Not when Steve, Sam, Natasha, Sharon, and every other currently able-bodied team member are out scouring every safehouse and known former HYDRA base in the tri-state area while you're holed up in your apartment with a fractured fibula and a brain that won't let you stop reliving the moments before he went missing.

“This is as straightforward as it gets,” Steve re-assures you both for what felt like the dozenth time that day. “You'll be in and out in no time.”

“So straight-forward that you're going to hang back here while we do all the dirty work?” You joke as you make the final adjustments to your parachute.

“We've been monitoring this base for months,” he reminds you. “This place is as abandoned as they come. Get in, get the intel from the database, and get back to the jet.”

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Bucky adds with a devious grin.

“And then blow the place to smithereens,” Steve agrees.

If only things had been as simple as he had expected.

You had a bad feeling in the pit of your stomach from the moment that you and Bucky landed on the ground outside of the HYDRA base. You told yourself that you were being irrational - but you couldn't shake the looming feeling that something was going to go wrong.

“See?” Bucky says after removing the USB drive from the computer. He sticks the device in the breast pocket of his tactical vest before edging you towards the desk. “Easy-peasy. You've been worried for nothing.”

“I have not been worried,” you deny, leaning against the edge of the desk. “This place is just old, and smelly, and creepy.”

Bucky takes a step closer to you so that there's no space left between you. He places his hands on the desk on either side of you, enclosing you.

“You think that I can't tell when you're nervous?” He says quietly, studying your face. You can smell a lingering hint of cool mint from his mouthwash. “That I haven't spent enough time learning your body to read you like an open book?”

Your thighs clench together and your nipples pebble at his words. You're almost embarrassed at how easily his voice, his scent, his closeness elicits a physical response from your body. Almost.

“What I think,” you murmur against his mouth. His hands come to grip your hips as he nudges your thighs open, standing between your legs. “Is you're crazy if you're thinking about trying to fuck me in an abandoned HYDRA warehouse.”

He exhales a dramatic sigh. “You can't blame me for trying.”

“I am relieved to know that you'd even want to do that here,” you say, hopping down from where you're perched on the desk. “I really think that shows you've processed your trauma–”

You're cut off by the room going completely dark. Every light, every computer, turns to black.

Bucky's flesh hand instinctively reaches to grab your wrist in the dark, tugging you to him.

“What the fuck,” he groans under his breath.

“We need to get out of–” you start to state the obvious but close your mouth when the computer that you and Bucky had retrieved the data from turns back on.

And then a computer to the right - and then across the room - and another to the right - and one to left - until every computer is on and showing the exact same screen. Bucky's hand grips yours so tightly that it borders on being painful.

Displayed on dozens of screens throughout the room is the face of a man. A man who you've never met, but recognize immediately.

“Zola,” Bucky whispers almost inaudibly.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Zola addresses him with a perverted smile. “Welcome home,” his voice pours from every computer speaker throughout the room and echoes off the walls.

“Steve?” You whisper urgently, clicking on the communication device hidden in your ear. “Steve, we've got a prob–”

“There's no use in that,” Zola interrupts you. “It's too late. They're almost here.”

The following sixty seconds were a jumbled blur that you were still trying to piece together in your mind.

You remember hearing the stream of words spoken in Russian.

Longing. Rusted. Seventeen.

You remember Bucky screaming at you to run, the sound of Steve's voice in your ear telling you that back-up was on the way and asking a dozen questions that you were too overwhelmed to respond to.

Daybreak. Furnace. Nine.

You remember begging Steve to hurry. You remember pleading with Bucky to come with you to try to get away; pleading with him to just look at you, just stay with you, help is coming -

Benign. Homecoming. One.

You remember the moment that Bucky went completely still as the room was infiltrated by HYDRA agents.

Freight car.

You knew that Bucky wasn't there anymore. You could sense it in his stance, in the way he wouldn't meet your eyes, in his silence.

Before you could say anything else to him, close to a dozen HYDRA agents came barreling towards you both. He charged through them, taking down one after the next with ease, until there were just a few left standing.

It was a side of Bucky you'd never seen. You thought that you had witnessed his strength, his agility, his determination, his ruthlessness working beside him in this field - but you then saw just how much he had been holding back.

He fled past the remaining few, out the door and down the hallway of the warehouse. The agents turned to follow him, forgetting about you - until you threw a knife directly into one's neck from behind.

Another agent shot at you, the blow hitting your bulletproof vest and sending you flying backwards onto hard cement.

Before you could catch your breath, there was a sharp cracking noise and a blinding pain radiating from your lower leg - but it was short lived.

The last thing you recall is the man's boot swinging towards your face.

You woke up some number of hours later, in a hospital bed with your temple throbbing and leg elevated in a cast.

“Hey,” a soft voice calls from your right. Natasha stands up from the singular chair in the room, both concern and relief evident across her features. “You're okay,” she begins to assure you. “You have a concussion and a fractured–”

“Where's Bucky?” You interrupt her, your voice scratchy. You clear your throat. “Is he okay? Did Steve find him? Did HYDRA get–”

“HYDRA didn't get him. Steve took care of the last of the agents after him,” she stops you from rambling. There's an immediate sense of relief wash over you.

“But we haven't found him yet,” she adds carefully. “Everyone is out searching for him now. You know we won't stop until–”

A gentle knock on your apartment door snaps you back to reality.

You freeze, your heart jumping to your throat. You stand as quickly as you can manage, grabbing your crutches propped up next to you on the couch.

“It's just me,” a feminine voice calls from the other side of the door. Your heart goes from your throat to your stomach. Not him.

“I'm sorry, I should have text you first,” Natasha continues. “But I brought you food. Street tacos from–”

You turn the deadbolt and unhook the chain lock before swinging the door open.

“You look–”

“Like hammered shit?” You finish for her, nodding your head towards the inside of the apartment as indication for her to come in.

“I was going to say exhausted,” she says, walking past you with a large paper sack of take-out food. Your stomach growls at the aroma - when was the last time you ate something more than a bowl of cereal or granola bar?

“Your favorite,” she tells you, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. “Extra salsa verde and lime wedges. Have you gotten any sleep recently?” Her eyes skim across the empty energy drink cans littered around the kitchen.

You maneuver yourself onto one of the barstools at the kitchen's small island, leaning your crutches on the edge of the counter.

“Yes,” you mumble. “For forty-five minutes from 2:30 to 3:15 today.”

She lets out a long groan, rolling her eyes at you.

“You're supposed to be healing from a concussion,” she reminds you, taking a seat for herself. “Which generally doesn't include sleep deprivation and excessive use of computer screens.” She stares in the direction of the array of laptops that overcrowd the limited space of your coffee table.

“Did you find anything in Connecticut? What about Sam, is he back from New Jersey?” You ask, ignoring her concerns as you unbox your food.

“Connecticut was a dead-end,” she sighs. “We're still waiting to hear back from Sam. There's a safehouse up in Vermont that Steve wants to head to tomorrow–”

“You don't think there's a chance of him letting me tag along for that, do you?” You tap the edge of your cast against the base of the island with your foot.

Her eyes soften as she looks at you. You already knew the answer.

“I know this is really hard for you,” she says delicately. “I may not know exactly what has been going on between you and Barnes these last few months, but it's obvious you care a lot for him. We all do. We are going to find him and bring him home,” she assures you.

You nod at her in agreement, not quite trusting your voice enough to speak.

Your eyes sting as you attempt to blink away the tears that threaten to spill over. You had yet to allow yourself to spend any time crying these last few days and you didn't wish to start now.

Her words remind you that no one knows exactly why you are taking Bucky's disappearance so harshly. You assume that your friends have their suspicions about your and Bucky's arrangement but the two of you had agreed to keep it between yourselves.

They didn't know it had started off being a weekly occurrence - late Sunday evenings, your apartment. Or how it had quickly escalated from once a week to twice, and then from two times a week to three - and instead of just your apartment, it would happen anywhere the two of you had a private (and sometimes public) moment - up against the wall of the communal showers at the compound's gym, in the back of the Quinjet after missions while everyone else would be sleeping on the flight back home, even during team meetings with his hand creeping between your thighs while you try to stay quiet enough to not draw any attention to yourselves.

They didn't know you were supposed to be friends with benefits but that at some point during the days and nights spent underneath one another, the line between friends and something more became blurry for you.

You had just been too chickenshit to tell him.

Natasha sits across from you as you inhale the Mexican food that she brought you. She doesn't say anything else, just keeps you company in a comfortable silence as you eat your first legitimate meal in days.

“Thank you,” you tell her as you're finishing your food. “I appreciate you. I've been going a little crazy here by myself,” you add meekly.

“Of course.” She stands back up. “I would stay longer, but I've got to prepare for Vermont. We're leaving early in the morning.”

“Be safe. All of you,” you remind her. “Let me know if you guys find anything. Just tell me if there's anything at all I can do. And please let me know when you hear from Sam–”

“You'll be the first to know when there's anything to know,” she assures you gently.

“Thanks, Nat.”

“You just try to get some rest, okay?” She requests as she walks toward the door. “Maybe drink some water, possibly consider taking a nice, long shower…”

“Goodbye, Natasha.”

She's chuckling as she closes the door behind her.

You lower your nose to your armpit as soon as the door clicks shut, inhaling.

Maybe she makes a valid point about showering.

Half an hour later, there's a heavy rain beating against the windows of your apartment when you finish bathing. You secure a towel around your chest before yanking off the garbage bag that you had wrapped around your cast well enough for you to rinse off.

Belly full and body clean, you felt somewhat better; at least physically.

You listen to the rain pound down as you sit on the edge of the bathtub, massaging lotion into your skin, and wonder where Bucky is right now - if he's safe, if it's raining wherever he's at, if he's somewhere dry -

You come to a sudden halt in the middle of brushing your teeth. It's hard to tell over the deafening roar of the rain and your bathroom fan, but you could have sworn you heard the creaking of a door or window from your living room.

I double checked the door locks after Nat left, you rationalize to yourself. This apartment is on the fourth floor, no one is going to climb the fire escapes to–

There's an unmistakable shadow visible through the crack at the bottom of the bathroom door. It's gone as quickly as it appears.

Shit. You start to panic as you realize you left your cell phone in the kitchen. As quietly as you can, you look around the small room for something to defend yourself with. A hair dryer, dental floss, a few week’s worth of dirty laundry..

You hear the creaking of floorboards as footsteps seem to creep closer and closer to the bathroom door.

Crutches. You have two crutches. You can clobber them with your crutches.

“I can hear you,” you call to whoever is just beyond the door. “I know you’re out there.”

Silence. No hint of any further movement.

You place one crutch under your left armpit for support, keeping the other one ready to wield as a weapon. “You have ten seconds to get out of my apartment,” you say a bit louder, willing your voice not to waver. “I have a weapon.”

Yeah, a weapon. If you can call it that.

Ten seconds come and go, followed by another ten seconds.

You weren’t going to let someone play this game with you in your own home.

Taking one last deep breath and tightening your grip on the defense crutch, you sling the bathroom door open quickly.

“Oh my god,” you exclaim, immediately relaxing your weight against the crutches, releasing the death grip that you had on your uninjured side.

It’s dark in your bedroom save for a few pale orange string lights hung around your bed frame and the light that spills in from the bathroom, but you would recognize his broad frame anywhere.

“Thank fuck you’re okay,” you exhale, swinging yourself over to where he stands at the foot of your bed. When you’re a little over a foot away from him, you realize he’s sopping wet - his hair dripping water droplets and his skin dewy. His clothing, the same clothing that you last saw him in three days ago, clings to his body like a second skin.

He remains still as a statue, and as silent as one.

“Are you okay?” You ask him apprehensively. You give him a once over, from head to toe. You don't see any noticeable injuries, but he is trembling.

“Bucky?” You ask in a small voice.

His lips are set in a hard line. He doesn't answer, just stares at you. Stares at you like he’s trying to figure out why he’s here.

Stares at you like he’s trying to decide if he knows you or not.

The immense relief that you had felt at knowing he's alive is washed away by a sinking feeling.

His eyes trail from your face and slowly down your towel-clad body. He pauses when he gets to your foot, glancing back and forth from your cast to the crutches on either side. His brows furrow together - almost like he's in pain.

“I'm okay,” you assure him in a shaky voice. “It's just a fracture,” you explain. “I'll be healed in no time.”

You notice that his features relax a bit at your words - just enough to give you hope that Bucky, your Bucky, is in there and he's listening to you.

Do whatever you have to do to keep him here. Don't let him out of your sight. Help him remember who he is, your inner monologue screams at you. Just don't let him run away again.

“Are you cold?” You ask him. You're not necessarily expecting him to answer, you're just trying to put him at ease. “How about we get you some dry clothes?” You add, nodding towards his drenched henley.

You retreat into the bathroom, grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants that he'd left over the last time he had stayed the night - the night before he went missing. They were at the top of the laundry basket - maybe not the cleanest, but better that the wet, dirty clothing he's in currently.

You limp your way back over to where he stands at your bed, leaning against the mattress for support. You set your crutches down and hand him the shirt and pants, which he hesitantly accepts. He makes no move to remove the wet clothes from his body, instead gently places the dry clothes onto the mattress beside him.

“Would you like some help?” you offer cautiously, terrified of doing anything that could cause him to run. You slowly reach towards the clothing that he had just placed on the bed, but he stops you before you can pick the t-shirt back up - grasping your wrist in his vibranium hand.

You can’t stop the small gasp that escapes past your lips. His hold on you is firm, but not painful. You could rip your hand from him if you wanted to - but you don’t.

Instead, you let him hold your hand as he begins to rub his metal thumb in a circular motion next to yours. You’re frozen; watching him carefully as he examines the movements his metal digit makes on your skin.

The goosebumps that appear in the wake of his touch don’t go unnoticed by him. His eyes trail from where his hand holds yours and up the expanse of your arm, until they land on your exposed neck. The towel covering your midsection has started to come loose, hanging low enough to reveal the top of your breasts.

He drops your hand, taking a step closer to you. You have to remind yourself to breathe - your Bucky is in there. Your Bucky, who is gentle, and soft, and would never do anything to cause you harm.

You have to trust that.

He brings his vibranium fingers up to the edge of the towel, trailing them across the mounds of your breasts. Your nipples harden right away, visible through the thin material of the towel.

You would let this play out however he wants it to. However he needs it to.

When his index finger stops where the towel is tucked into itself at your side, you forget how to breathe. He pauses for a split-second before unhooking the cloth and letting it fall to your feet.

He drinks in the sight of you bare before him, his jaw clenched and pupils dilated.

Dozens of times he has seen you like this, and never have you felt so completely vulnerable under his gaze.

And still there's a slickness gathering at the apex of your thighs.

He brings his flesh hand to your waist, putting the faintest bit of pressure against your skin. You close your eyes at the sensation - he's barely fucking touching you and you could melt into him.

Your name falls off of his lips - it's barely even a whisper, nearly inaudible but unmistakable. Your name. He remembers your name.

“Bucky,” your voice cracks when you whisper his own name back to him. His eyes snap up to yours, a mix of realization and hesitation brewing in them.

You bring both of your hands to the tail of his wet shirt, giving him time to pull away before you start to tug the shirt upwards. He doesn't stop you - in fact, he raises his own arms to help you tug the soaked fabric off of him. You toss the shirt in the general direction of your bathroom.

You didn't think there would ever come a time that the sight of him getting naked for you wouldn't make you want to drool.

You unsnap the button of his tactical pants, keeping your eyes on his face the whole time, hyper-analyzing his expression for any sign of reluctance.

You dip your fingers past the waistband of his boxers, his eyes fluttering closed as your hand travels lower.

He's already fully hard as you hold him, stroking him as best you can from inside the confines of his underwear and pants. You pump him in your hand and his head rolls back so that he's looking up at your ceiling.

Fuck, it takes all the restraint you possess to resist leaning forward and sucking on his neck.

Another time, you tell yourself, anxious about overwhelming him.

He curses under his breath - something in Russian that you don't recognize but the expression on his face indicates it to be a praise. There's a shift in his initially reserved, unsure demeanor when you begin to pump him faster.

His head snaps back down, his eyes raking up and down your body once more before he brings his hands to your lower back, maneuvering you against the bed.

You scoot until your back comes in contact with the cool satin of your pillows, relaxing into the bedding. At last Bucky begins to shed the layers of wet clothing covering his lower half, not taking his eyes off of your body as he removes his boots, followed by his pants and boxers.

He kneels on the mattress, crawling above where you lay. You want nothing more than to grab him by the shoulders and pull his mouth to yours, but you are going to let him call the shots.

He nudges your thighs apart with his knee, nestling himself between your legs. He grasps your breast in his vibranium hand, giving it a firm squeeze before rolling your nipple between his icy fingers.

He lowers himself so that he's belly down on your mattress, his face inches away from your pussy. He removes his hand from your breast and you let out a small whimper of disappointment at the abrupt lack of sensation. He uses that same hand to hike your uninjured leg over his shoulder, securing his head between the soft interior of your thighs.

He kisses you, starting at your belly button and working his way to your center. His lips feel like fire against your skin. You keep your hips planted firmly on the bed, fighting the urge to thrust your pussy up to his face.

“Please,” you whine. “Bucky, please.” You swear you can see the faintest trace of a smirk that looks so undeniably Bucky.

You clench your thighs around his face and he lets out a low, guttural groan as his mouth makes contact with you.

Normally, Bucky closes his eyes while he's going down on you - gets completely lost in it. Right now, his eyes are wide open - making sure he doesn't miss the way your mouth gapes when he rolls his tongue around your clit and the way your chest heaves when he nudges his tongue inside you.

You don't know which you find hotter.

You can already feel the tightening of a coil in your lower belly, making it impossible to resist rolling your hips to meet the torturous pace he's set with his tongue. You grind against his face, the thin layer of stubble that's grown across his jaw since you last saw him scratching against the sensitive flesh around your cunt.

You're approaching your climax when he pulls away, making you mewl at the loss of contact. His face glistens with your slick.

He flips you onto your side, placing you on your left side so that your injured leg rests against the mattress. You prop your head up with your hand as he slides in behind you.

His chest presses against your back, the heat of his body warming you all over. His flesh hand juts between your thighs, raising your right leg high enough for him to slap his cock against your pussy.

He strokes himself in his hand while he teases your folds - lubricating himself with your juices.

You turn your head to look at him right as he sheaths himself inside you, filling you entirely in one swift motion.

Fuck, you have to taste yourself on him. You can't handle not having his mouth on yours for another second.

You tilt your head back enough to connect your mouth to his - every worry you once had about coming on too strong and overwhelming him melts away as he opens his mouth for you, moving his lips against yours in an effortless rhythm.

He starts slow, quickly working up to a rapid pace as he repeatedly slams into your cervix from the sweetest angle. The sounds that you're making for him are pornographic - moaning into his mouth as his flesh hand comes around your front, landing on your engorged clitoris. He rubs languid circles while he continues to pound into you from behind.

You pull your lips away from his when you feel your orgasm building. “You always make me feel so good, you know that?” You ask him breathily, your mouth now right next to his ear.

“Every time you fuck me, I'm more sure that no one could ever compare to you. You've ruined me for everyone else. There’s only you for me.”

“Fuck,” he curses and groans your name again - it's the closest he's sounded to his normal self, which only spurs you on.

“I’ve become so fucking addicted to you in such a short amount of time,” you say in between moans as the head of his cock hits your sweet spot just right. “Think about you anytime you're not near me, drives me fucking crazy.”

He flips you - doesn't pull out - so that you're now underneath him. He goes right back to the same brutal pace, bringing his flesh hand to cradle your face as he stares down at you.

Clarity - you recognize it plain as day on his features.

He gives you a few more fast, hard thrusts before you're milking his cock through your orgasm. You crash your lips to his and he's coming - filling you up with his warm seed as he kisses you senseless.

He gradually stills inside you, his body going limp on top of yours as he rests his face in the crook of your neck. You wrap your arms around him, peppering kisses across his scarred shoulder, where flesh meets metal.

“I'm so sorry if I scared you,” he murmurs against the sweat-slicked skin of your throat after a moment. “I wasn't myself. Not even entirely sure how I ended up here - it's like I was pulled in this direction - to you,” he sighs.

You're overcome with such an immense relief at hearing him speak that you could cry. You tighten your hold around him, rubbing your hands up and down his back.

“You could never scare me, Bucky,” you assure him. He pulls out of you, rolling off of you onto the bed beside you and tugging you to his chest. Your cheek rests just over his heart.

"I know you. Even when I know nothing else, even when I don't know myself, I know you."

♡♡♡♡♡

my masterlist

thanks for reading! as always comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated!

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x you #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes one-shot #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fanfiction

2K notes · View notes

sturniqlo · 2 months ago

Text

Motherly Instincts- M.S

summary: mom!y/n has trouble putting the baby back to sleep, dad!matt sees that's she's getting overwhelmed and near the edge of breaking down. BLURB

cw: slight cursing, ANGST; crying, being overwhelmed, postpartum depression, FLUFF; soft kisses, reassurance, comforting

an: i tried my best to not use a name for the baby but i kept getting confused when i used the baby and y/n in a sentence so i chose a random name | lowercase intended | a continuation(?) to spilled water

masterlist | mia masterlist | join my taglist

-----------------------------------------------

"got the baby back to sleep?" matt asked and opened his arms back up for y/n to crawl into him. "mhm." she hums, and snugs herself into his arms. he wraps his arm around her shoulder and she leans her head on his chest. y/n's eyes keep going back and forth between the movie playing on the television in front of them and the baby monitor that sits on the coffee table.

"hey, she's okay, i promise you. i'm sure she's fast asleep by now." he whispers and places a kiss on her forehead. "i know, but what if her swaddles comes undone. or what if it's too tight?" she bites the inside of her cheek, worrying.

matt frowns slightly, for the past couple of weeks, y/n hasn't really been herself. she's more quiet, she gets irritated quickly, she only interacts with the baby when it's necessary "i just- she's so fragile, you know?" is her excuse.

in reality, everything is right. y/n has been trying so hard to create a bond with her baby girl. she's tried so hard but, there's something inside of her- almost like a voice- telling her that she isn't fit to be a mother, that her baby doesn't like her. she sees how matt and his brothers have a bond with her own baby, who she grew for nine months. it gets to her.

y/n always has to excuse herself and cry in the bathroom when she sees her baby crack a smile with someone who isn't her, or when mia isn't fussy when someone is carrying her. there has been multiple occasions where mia doesn't let y/n carry her and she squirms in her arms but, when she's given to matt, she isn't fussy anymore. it breaks y/n's heart.

2:36am

the clock on y/ns nightstand reads. the speakers of the baby monitor begin to fill the room with the wails of baby mia. she mutes the monitor so matt won't wake up. swinging her legs over the bed, she puts her slippers on and walks to the door to leave the room. entering the nursery, the cries only get louder. she goes to the crib and sees that her pacifier had fallen next to her small head.

"hi, baby. mommy's here." she whispers, she carefully picks her up in her arms and grabs the pacifier and tries to put it back in her mouth. mia takes it and y/n sighs in relief. she cradles her for a couple more seconds until she sees the babys face churn in discomfort, the pacifier coming out of her mouth and hitting the floor, cries fill the room again.

"oh no, let's get this cleaned up." she tries to stay calm and squats down to pick up the pacifier. before she heads down she places mia down on the changing table and undos the swaddle. "do you need a diaper change, is that it?" her shaky hands unclip the onesie and starts to take off the diaper.

cleaning her up and changing her into a new diaper, her cries don't stop. y/n feels a lump start to form in her throat and she blinks her tears away. "are you hungry, baby? let's get you a bottle." she puts her back in her arms and grabs the pacifier so she can clean it while she's downstairs.

y/n runs one of her frozen breast milk pouches under warm water and proceeds to pour it into a bottle once it's warm and melted, however with a crying baby in her left arm, and a shaky right hand, the bottle falls on its side and the pouch of milk slips from her grip. "shit." she curses and a tear slips down her face. "i'm sorry, i'm sorry, i'm sorry." she tells the crying baby in her arm. grabbing a different frozen pouch she manages to pour all of it into the small bottle.

putting the nipple of the bottle into the babys mouth, she refuses and her cries get louder. y/n tries not more time and mia takes it for a couple of seconds and repeats what she previously did with the pacifier. y/n places the bottle down next to the spilled milk and cleans the pacifier before heading back up into the nursery.

she moves side to side patting the baby lightly on the bottom, trying to soothe her to sleep. "i- i don't know what you want." she whispers, looking down at the baby's blue eyes that resembles matt's so much. however, these pair of eyes are sad and leaking tears.

in their shared room, matt flips over and tries to put an arm around y/n. he feels the spot empty and cold, waking up and sitting up he begins to come conscious of his surroundings and hears the cries of his baby. his bare feet meet the cold wooden floor and he heads out the room into the nursery where he sees y/n wiping tears from her eyes and hears the wails of the baby.

"babe, what's going on?" his raspy voice says. y/n looks up and sees matt standing there. "she's- i don't- she won't stop crying, i don't know what she wants. i've- i've tried everything, she won't stop, matt." his heart aches at her quivering voice. "it's okay, let me have her." matt walks closer to his two girls and y/n hands mia to him.

once the baby is in matt's arms, her cries stop. this makes y/n's eyes well up even more. "hey, why don't you go to our room, i'll be there in a sec, okay?" he grabs her jaw and kisses her forehead. "o- okay." she nods. as bad as it sounds, matt wished that she hadn't stopped crying right away in his arms. he saw the way y/n's eyes welled up again. he wished it would've taken him some time to get the baby to calm down.

y/n remembers of the mess downstairs and heads down to the kitchen. wiping both the milk and her tears, she hears matt coming down the stairs and she turns around. "hey, is she- is she asleep?" she says, trying her best to smile. "yeah, here, i'll clean this up." matt grabs the napkins from her and he cleans it up. "is it okay if i go back up?" y/n asks.

"of course, i'll be right up." matt turns around and nods at her. matt waits a couple of minutes before going back upstairs so y/n can have a moment to herself.

"you okay?" matt says as he closes the third bedroom door. y/n places the baby monitor back down on her nightstand after unmuting it and turns around to matt's voice. "am i a good mom?" she blurts out and sits on the edge of the bed. "what? of course you are. you're the best. why do you ask?" he goes to sit next to her. "i feel like i'm not. i mean, mia doesn't even like me. she doesn't let me hold her whenever i just want to. i cant even put her to sleep when she wakes up. i- you put her straight to sleep by just carrying her, i can't do that." she cries into matt.

"y/n, baby, you're the best mom ever." matt says and she shakes her head. "matt, you're not listening to me, i can't- i'm- i'm not good enough. i don't have motherly instincts. i'm- i'm the worst."

matt shakes his head and gently grabs her face in his hands. "baby, believe me when i say this. you are the best mommy for mia. did you change her diaper just now?" he asks and she nods. "did you make her a bottle?" she nods. "did you give her, her pacifier?" she nods again. "did you go to her when you heard her crying?" she nods. "see, you do have motherly instincts, my love. nobody told you what to do, you just did it." he smiles at her. "please, believe me, babe."

"and, it's okay if we can't figure it out right away. we're first time parents, of course it's going to be hard. we're learning." her cries have now turned into sniffles. matt wipes away the last of her tears and kisses her nose, making her giggle lightly.

"feelin' better?" matt murmurs against her hair. they had moved from sitting on the edge of the bed to matt cuddling her, kissing her hair from time to time. "much better. thank you, babe. i- i think i have postpartum depression." she whispers the last part. "oh." he says. "i want to get help, i don't want to feel like this anymore. i want to enjoy these moment with her. she's not going to be this little for so long." she looks up at him.

"you get all the help you need. i'll be with you every step of the way, alright? me and mia will be right next to you." she smiles at his words and he presses a soft kiss to his lips. "thank you." there's a beat of silence until matt speaks. "please don't ever say that she won't be this little for so long. one moment she needs us to change her diaper and next thing you know, i'm walking her down the aisle." y/n gasps. "okay, let's not go that far. she's not even two months old yet."

"you're right."

2K notes · View notes

zarameraki · 12 days ago

Text

🖊️💌 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗳𝗮𝘃𝗼𝘂𝗿𝗶𝘁𝗲 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗽𝗲𝗻-𝗽𝗮𝗹 🖊️💌

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 prisoner sukuna x his penpal 𖥔 just plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 pussayy eating rawr but also u suck his dick so 𖥔 uraume and toji found family 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw

: ̗̀➛ words: 10k?? idfk it's long

: ̗̀➛ notes: happy halloween, mamas! 🎃 i know ive been MIA for a while but thats because i wasnt feeling creative. but now ive dumped a 10k sukuna fic on you for you to read at 3 in the morning. this one's got a kick to it yall. its long but give the bitch a chance, shes good. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

So, this was where you’d ended up—on a site for writing to prisoners. A pen-pal with an inmate.

How lonely did you have to be to fill out your info, pay a yearly fee, and do this? The answer: really, really lonely. Orphaned, friendless, and scarred from a relationship that had left you with broken ribs and a blind eye. And as if to top it all off, you wanted to reach out to a criminal. I guess you deserved at least that small bit of connection.

You scrolled through inmate profiles, noting their crimes—arson, theft, cybercrime, drug trafficking, money embezzlement, and so on. None of them were charged with homicides or serious offences.

One profile did catch your eye. The smirk in his mugshot suggested he’d probably killed someone and managed to evade the cops before they could pin anything on him.

“Sukuna Ryomen,” you whispered, clicking on his profile and staring at a laundry list of crimes. “Aggravated assault, drug manufacturing and distribution, kidnapping—Jesus—extortion, cybercrime, Satanism . . . what the hell?” You chuckled as you scrolled further. “Bank burglary, vandalism of religious properties—so that’s the Satanism part—illegal possession of firearms, stalking?”

Why was this man even on this website, given his long list of crimes?

You zoomed in on his mugshot. Was it wrong to find him attractive despite his record? He truly embodied the term “bad boy,” though he didn’t look like a boy at all. He was ruggedly handsome with hollowed eyes. His light-mink hair was swept back, with a few strands falling over his forehead, and he wore a single hoop earring in his left ear. Black tattoos marked his nose bridge, jaw, and the centre of his forehead, while narrow-eyed designs were inked on his cheekbones.

You wondered if he’d get any letters, given his long rap sheet. Maybe delusional women like you, who’s pussies sang for high-profile criminals, sure.

Licking your lower lip, you picked up a piece of paper and a pen, tapping the end against the sheet as you continued to study his face.

Then you started writing.

Hello, Sukuna Ryomen,

My name is Y/N.

You thought it over. For now, you'd keep it light before diving into your deeper issues. It felt easier to share your thoughts with someone you’d never meet face-to-face than with a stranger in a bar whose only interest was getting into your pants.

You kept writing.

Dear Sukuna Ryomen,

I’m currently living in an apartment complex that’s in desperate need of renovation. I’m harvesting cockroaches—no, I’m not eating them; the fuckers just won’t stop nesting in my kitchen cabinets, and I’m tired of spending money on pest sprays. On top of that, I’m pretty broke, barely managing to keep a roof over my head. I’ve even considered trying to seduce the landlord into reducing my rent, though I doubt any man would find a woman with one working eye appealing. I noticed you have an extra beneath your real eyes. Care to share?

Anyway, this is my first time writing to someone like you, so apologies if it’s a bit awkward. I wish I could send a nude, but I’m pretty sure you’d wish you were blind after that. I feel like I’m rambling like this is my diary, so I should probably wrap it up. If you want to write back, feel free. I don’t mean to sound privileged, but I’m lonely as fuck.

Thank you (?),

Y/N

P.S. About the Satanism—care to explain?

You didn’t bother proof-reading and folded the letter into an envelope, sealing it with a lick. From your drawer, you pulled out a pack of old stickers—remnants of your childhood—and placed one where the envelope met. You wrote the prison address provided on the website and added the stamps you’d bought during your walk, which was your final push into becoming a prison pen-pal. After selecting Sukuna Ryomen on the site and uploading your ID and other required documents, you waited for your profile to be approved.

After three days of waiting, you sent out the letter first thing in the morning and anxiously awaited a response.

Sukuna’s fists collided with the inmate’s face, each strike more brutal than the last. Blood splattered across his knuckles as the crowd of orange-clad convicts roared with twisted delight, their voices a chorus of vile encouragement. “Finish him!” they taunted, while others jeered at the barely conscious man, urging him to get up and fight back, to aim a desperate kick at Sukuna’s balls.

“Sukuna!” A guard’s voice cut through the chaos, and soon the officers were pushing through the throng, shutting the prisoners who dared resist their authority. “Get up, now!”

“Fuck off!” Sukuna snarled, his lips curling into a sneer as he shoved the guard aside. He watched with cold satisfaction as the man lay still, blood pooling beneath him. All this because the idiot had the nerve to laugh when Sukuna missed a three-pointer. Now, the bald bastard had paid the price for his arrogance, and Sukuna breathed in the aftermath—his own dark victory painted in blood and broken bones.

Officer Gojo Satoru strode into the circle, handcuffs gleaming in his hand.

Sukuna's eyes narrowed at the sight of the blue-eyed bastard, a wave of hatred surging through him so fierce he could almost feel his fingers tightening around Satoru's throat. The very thought of choking the life out of him fueled his dark desires.

Satoru’s father—the man responsible for dragging Sukuna down, catching him red-handed with crates of cocaine at the border, and sealing his fate with a fifty-year sentence. If Sukuna had known the old man’s spawn would end up as a deputy officer here, watching his every move with those piercing eyes, he would have never shown up to that cursed delivery. But no—he had wanted to play the good boss, personally seeing his precious cargo off. Now, every day behind bars was a constant reminder of that one fatal mistake, and Sukuna’s rage festered as he thought of the traitor, Yuji. The little fuck who sold him out would pay dearly, and Sukuna was already plotting the perfect revenge.

His own fucking nephew sold him off. Motherfucker wanted the throne for himself—an empire Sukuna built with his bare hands.

“Throw him in the ice box,” Satoru commanded, his voice dripping with that infuriating smugness. The officer roughly cuffed Sukuna’s wrists, shoving him forward. “Cool down, Big Guy. You’re not going any—”

Before he could finish, Sukuna rammed his forehead into Gojo’s nose, relishing the satisfying crunch as the lanky bastard staggered back. The inmates roared with approval from where they were restrained by the other officers.

Gojo chuckled, dabbing at his bleeding nose with a pristine handkerchief, the kind only a spoiled little bitch like him would carry. “You think that’s funny?” he asked, his tone laced with condescension.

“Hilarious,” Sukuna whispered, a dark grin curling at his lips.

“Okay,” Gojo replied with a casual shrug. Without warning, his fist slammed into Sukuna’s jaw.

Once.

Twice.

Three fucking times.

The officers stood by, indifferent, as their captain unleashed his fury. For them, it was just another case of self-defence.

Sukuna finally collapsed to the ground, his vision swimming. Gojo leaned over him, his voice a venomous hiss. “Who’s laughing now?” A final, vicious kick to Sukuna’s chest left him gasping for breath. “Keep him in that freezer until he’s begging to be let out. No meals for a week.”

Sukuna’s vision blurred as he glared at Satoru’s retreating figure, the ringing in his ears barely drowning out the disappointed murmurs of his fellow inmates. His body, battered and beaten, finally surrendered to the encroaching darkness.

When he came to, he found himself in the prison’s infirmary, cocooned in three heated blankets. Yet the warmth did little to pierce the deep, bone-chilling cold that gripped him. The need to piss gnawed at him, but even that seemed distant compared to the icy numbness that had taken hold.

“Welcome back to hell.”

Sukuna raised his head from the pillows to find Uraume, the prison’s doctor. They were also the only person he tolerated, and somewhat close to since he ended up in the infirmary more than once. He hoped they considered him a ‘something’ after he killed a two-hundred pound guy for groping their ass in the cafeteria. How did he do it? He knew Uraume kept a pocket knife in their doctor’s coat and quickly swept it out and stuck it in the dick’s jugular.

“How long have I been out for?” he asked, squirming his arm out of the blanket to rub his eyes.

“A day.”

“What?” Sukuna pulled himself out of the blanket by wiggling around like the fucking worms his cell mate Toji liked to collect every time they went in the courtyard to play. They’re better company than your grouchy ass, he said once. “How long was I in the ice box?”

“Barely an hour.” Well, that’s just pussy behaviour from him. “They pulled you out before hypothermia killed you. What a way to die, am I right?” They chuckled, preparing some pills in a small disposable cup. “Here, take these. They’re nutrients.”

“I could use actual food.” Sukuna downed them like a shot. God, he missed alcohol. “That blue-eyed bitch restricted my meals for a week.”

“Fuck him.” Uraume took out a sandwich from their bag and threw it in Sukuna’s direction. “Just fake illness when you’re hungry. I’m always here to feed my favourite dog.”

Sukuna snorted. “Go to hell.”

“Already here.” Uraume clipped back their white hair with the black dyed red. Like someone smashed their head into the wall and the colour just bled to the sides. “Oh, this came for you.”

Sukuna shoved the sandwich in his mouth and stretched his muscles before walking over, snatching the letter. It was already opened, a flimsy teddy-bear sticker hanging from the paper. “What the fuck is this?”

“A letter.”

“A letter? For me?”

Uraume broke their attention from the computer to look at him. “Remember when you had me register you on that prison pen-pal bullshit after Toji received a pile of fan letters?”

Sukuna blinked.

He definitely remembered being jealous when Toji got a letter from an artist who drew herself naked on paper for him, and a shit ton more asking for his dick size or when he’ll be out. Of course, Sukuna was envious of the attention. Plus, no one in prison made good company. He just wanted the taste of the outside world again after being locked in for five years now. Even if it was through ink on paper.

But then Sukuna looked down at his first ever letter torn open. “Why is this open? Who read it?” If it was Satoru, he was going to rip his eyeballs from his sockets and feed it to Toji’s pet worm.

“Relax. They’ve got to identify if there’s any substances attached to the paper, or any other shady shit. Whoever wrote to you is just a harmless nobody.”

Sukuna frowned, bringing the letter up to his nose. It smelled like a plain envelope. No drugs, nothing.

He found purchase on the bed again, pulling out the folded paper and ironing the creases out on his leg. Here we go.

He began reading each word carefully.

A week went by since you’d mailed your letter to Sukuna Ryomen. A week of pure torture to hear something back from the criminal. You’d relaxed on Sunday because the post offices are closed, but on Monday, you were at your mailbox, watching the mailman sort out letters and slip them through the boxes.

Once he left, you dashed to your box and flipped through the coupons, flyers, newsletters—

Your breath hitched.

Everything dropped from your hand except the cream envelope with an address from the prison. You didn’t care about reading it upstairs and quickly, yet carefully, tore it open from the side, reading the writing.

Trying to read it.

Sukuna had terrible handwriting. It made you giggle.

You leaned against the mailboxes and murmured the words written under your breath.

Hey, Y/N

I don’t know how to start a letter since I’ve never written one so don’t mind if I hurt your little feelings. Don’t know if you’re aiming to entertain me or bore me to death with this “dear diary” bullshit. I thought I’d get a nude, at the very least. Hell, Toji over here—yeah, the bastard who was on the news last year with a thing for setting houses on fire—gets way better fan mail every week. Pictures, drawings, mostly nudes. And I get your whining about rent and cockroaches?

Look, I may be locked up, but I’m giving you some advice here. Don’t fuck your landlord. You’ve got one eye? Good—use it. Hell, that’s already intimidating enough. Threaten the prick to call pest control, or better yet, trap those damn cockroaches and give him a taste. Stuff a few down his throat if he still doesn’t take you seriously. People respect action, not whining.

Speaking of. One eye? Really? Now, how’d it happen? Was it torn out? Still got some sight in it, or is it just gone? That’s gangster. Hot, even. I’d fuck a one-eyed chick. Maybe when I’m out we can cross that off my bucket list. Nah, I’m just playing with you.

Or maybe I’m not.

Think on it.

Hate (in a friendly way),

Sukuna.

P.S. Yeah, I took out some satanist scum who tried kidnapping one of my people’s kids. But don’t go thinking I’m in with those freaks. I’m just the Devil they wish they could be.

“Woah,” you breathed out, hugging the letter to your chest. This was it. This was what you were waiting for. A pull towards something real, something thrilling. It’s all you’ve been craving for eons now.

“Whatcha got there, sweetie?” The voice snapped you back, harsh as nails against glass. Your landlord had wandered out of his door on the first floor, wrapped in a faded bathrobe and gripping his mug like some king holding court. “Made a mess on my floor with your papers.”

“Sorry,” you muttered, quickly tucking Sukuna’s letter back into its envelope and reaching down to gather the stray papers scattered on the floor. When you straightened, he was already in your space, close enough that the coffee on his breath made you flinch.

“Excuse me—”

“You’re excused.” His smirk widened as he leaned in, his nose grazing your neck. The greasy warmth of his breath made bile rise to the back of your throat. “Just wanna take a little bite out of you.”

Sukuna’s advice echoed in your mind. You’d never—never—think of following through with his revolting insinuation. But letting this sleaze get away with treating you like this? No. Not anymore.

“Step away,” you commanded, your voice low but unyielding. “Now.”

He blinked, then chuckled, dismissive. “Feisty today, huh? Got a letter from your boyfriend in prison, sweetie?” How did he know that? Fuck. Did he go through your mail before it was deposited? “Let me guess—you think he’s got your back now?” He leaned even closer, the stench of his laugh wafting in the air. “Come on, where's that one eye of yours aiming, sweetheart?”

“Next person who mentions my eye eats the dirt,” you snapped, every ounce of your resolve boiling up. “And as for what I’ve got—it’s something way out of your league, old geezer. So get the hell back to your apartment, and call pest control now.”

For a second, he was stunned, face going pale as your words sank in. But you could feel Sukuna’s thrill, his twisted approval in the back of your mind. You’d tapped into something that wouldn’t settle. But then, “Well, I’ll be damned. Someone put on their big girl panties.”

Your jaw tightened as you held your ground, taking steady breaths. You’d rehearsed this moment in your head, picturing a confrontation that ended with him backing down. But things never went as planned with him.

“I’m not here to beg,” you said evenly. “But I’m not gonna let you walk all over me, either. I pay rent. It’s your responsibility to keep this place livable.”

He snorted, raising his coffee mug and giving you a once-over that made your skin crawl.

“Not for free, sweetheart. You’ve gotta give me something worth my time.” His eyes travelled down your body.

Your pulse throbbed in your ears, but you squared your shoulders. “I’m already paying rent. It’s your right to ensure your tenant's safety.”

His face darkened, lips curling into a bitter smile. “Not when that tenant’s acting like a spoiled little bitch.” And then, with a flick of his wrist, he launched the mug’s contents right at you.

You dodged, but a few hot droplets scorched your arm, leaving a raw sting that only fueled your anger. He laughed, shaking his head with a mocking scowl. “Get the fuck out of my sight before I kick you out on the streets.”

You didn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing you cry. You turned on your heel, heading back upstairs with quick steps, forcing the tears back until you could lock the door behind you. Once inside, you slumped to the floor, breathing hard. The letter from Sukuna crackled beneath your hands, and you clutched it close to your chest, feeling the heat of humiliation turn into something fiercer, darker.

“Damn it,” you whispered to yourself, pushing back to your feet with renewed energy. You marched to your desk, grabbed your notebook and pen, and let the words pour out, hurried and jagged. If anyone would understand this kind of anger, it was him—the one man whose entire life was carved from rage.

And this time, you wouldn’t hold anything back.

“Letter for you, Ryomen.”

Sukuna dropped down from his top bunk, snatching the letter right out of the guard’s hand.

“From your girl?” Toji asked from across the table, flipping a card, halfway to beating Sukuna in Blackjack.

“Not my girl,” Sukuna grunted, tearing into the envelope. But still, he smirked as he unfolded your letter.

Hey, Sukuna.

Fuck my landlord to hell and back. I need you to know I’d kill him if I could get away with it. I’m trying to keep this “ethical” so they don’t cut off my letters, but let’s just, I hate the elderly. They should be rotting in retirement houses instead of owning properties and doing a shit job running them. That senile asshole threw hot coffee at me this morning. Burning. I nearly shattered the damn mug over his skull.

Sukuna’s eyes narrowed, his fingers squeezing the letter hard enough to crumple the edges.

And now he’s saying he’ll kick me out, as if I have anything to pay him with. This place is a dump, anyway. I might hit up one of those shelters for women, maybe hop from couch to couch for a bit. My job at corner store’s giving me scraps; it’s not nearly enough to get by. So yeah, you could say I’m screwed.

And to answer your question about my eye—yeah, I’m blind in it. Got it from a real piece of work I used to call a boyfriend. He decided my face was fair game, and thought I could just live with it. But he's dead now. Overdosed last I heard from his brother. Good riddance, am I right?

Oh, and for that kink of yours you mentioned—sending my picture along with a little extra treat.

Hate (because I’m about to go crazy here), Y/N

P.S. For all the things you’ve done, I can’t lie—the world you talk about sounds safer than this one. Well, except for you committing the most heinous crimes.

Toji clicked his tongue. “Look at that dumbass grin on your face.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Sukuna muttered, flipping the letter over—and there it was: a stick drawing of a woman lying on a bed, two messy circles for her chest, legs spread wide, and what looked like . . . well, he didn’t need to guess. Sukuna went from grinning to outright laughing. “She’s hilarious.”

“Not just that. She’s sexy as fuck,” Toji said, holding up a photo, ripped clean in half.

Sukuna’s eyes flashed. He swiped the photo and pieced it back together, cursing himself for tearing through the envelope like a brute. But as the two halves reconnected, he felt his pulse kick up, hard.

“Well, shit.” You were more than just beautiful. The way your hair fell, the curves of your body wrapped in that short black dress, standing under a streetlamp with the city lights glinting around you . . . But it was the smile—the easy, teasing grin—that really did it for him. “I’m definitely jerking off tonight.” Respectfully, of course.

“Can we get back to the game now, or—”

“Fuck the game. I’ve got a letter to write.” And a plan brewing to get you out of that dump and right where he wanted you.

Your landlord was pronounced dead.

An ambulance had arrived early in the morning, around nine, waking up every tenant. You were one of them, groggy from your sleep, and all the crying you’d done from realising how high rent was these days.

Apparently, he had a heart-attack, said one of the residents.

He was eighty, said another.

You stuck to the back of the crowd as his body was wheeled out on the stretcher. How could he have died just five days after you sent your last letter to Sukuna? It couldn’t have been him, could it? Maybe one of his associates? Given the man’s extensive criminal history, you suspected he had some serious connections.

As the crowd began to disperse a few minutes later, you joined them but didn’t head upstairs. Instead, you made your way to the mailroom.

And luckily, Sukuna’s letter was present.

All he wrote was:

You’re welcome.

Neutral,

Sukuna.

You broke out laughing, or crying. Whatever it was, it felt good. So good.

Hey, Sukuna!

These days, I’m feeling calm. Really calm. I’m sleeping well, eating better, even starting to enjoy work. Sometimes, I’m scared it’ll all get snatched away. By who? I don’t know. Life’s been that way, though. I’ve lost so much—my parents, my friends, even my left eyesight. At one point, I lost my will to keep going. But I guess some part of me held on, believing a better day would come.

Turns out, those days are here. Who would’ve thought a felon could make me feel less alone? I know it sounds crazy, but my life’s been full of surprises lately.

If you think you can’t bring happiness to someone, I’m here to tell you you’re wrong. I’m genuinely happy, and it’s thanks to you. I already think of you as a friend—and I hope you think of me the same way. You don’t get a choice in that, by the way.

Love (genuinely), Y/N

P.S. I’d like to come visit you sometime soon.

Sukuna lowered the letter, his eyes settling on the wall where he’d pinned up your picture. “Toji?” he called out, still staring at the photo.

Toji paused mid-pushup, raising an eyebrow. “What, bitch?”

Sukuna let out a low laugh, barely shaking his head as he spoke. “I think I’m in love.”

Hello, Y/N.

When I’m out in fifty years, I’ll give you a real surprise. And don’t write me any more of that sentimental crap, alright? Save it for when you visit. I’d rather hear it in person.

Hate (but maybe not so much), Sukuna

P.S. You’re beautiful.

You pressed the letter to your chest, biting your lip as warmth spread across your cheeks, your face aching from how much you were smiling. It was official—you were falling for Sukuna Ryomen. You’d have to look your absolute best for your visit. Just the thought of seeing him, hearing his voice, maybe even feeling his hand brush yours, made your heart race. You’d kiss him if they’d let you. And if they didn’t? What could the guards do? Throw you in jail? Now that would be ironic.

But fifty years . . . Would you really wait fifty years for Sukuna to be released? How high was his bail, anyway, that even his hidden cash stash wasn’t enough to cover it? He had to have some kind of pull with the right people, didn’t he?

With a sigh, you grabbed a piece of paper and began to write your reply.

Sukuna,

Fifty years is a lifetime, don’t you think?

Love, Y/N

Sukuna read the short note you’d sent, surprised by how much you’d poured into just a few lines. He noticed small, faded dots on the paper—tears, unmistakably yours. You’d been crying, and it didn’t sit right with him. His stomach tightened, but thankfully, he’d already secured your visit through Uraume, who handled it while Gojo was away.

Now, all that was left was seeing you.

He wondered how he’d keep his hands to himself after all the nights he’d spent memorising your picture, losing himself in thoughts of you. Every night before sleep, every morning when he woke, every time Toji was out cold and couldn’t hear Sukuna’s barely-stifled groans as he imagined you were there. God, he wanted to steal you away.

The day of your visit finally came. Sukuna was led to the visitor room, wrists cuffed, flanked by two guards. He hadn’t set foot in this room since a couple of his associates had visited months back with updates on the family business and Yuji’s latest fiascos. They’d kept everything running despite his brother’s mess-ups, and Sukuna owed them.

He glanced down at his hands. Fifty years. He’d been scheming for a way out since he first set foot in here, but now, with you in the picture, the urge to escape was relentless. Bail was twenty million. Even if he could scrounge it up, he doubted he could get it done without tipping off the wrong people. No, his only real option was breaking out.

“Sukuna.”

A soft voice pulled his head up slowly. He couldn’t remember the last time his name was spoken with such warmth.

“Y/N.”

He shot up from his seat, his eyes flicking to the guards stationed in the corner before letting himself drink you in. You looked stunning—a soft sundress, hair delicately curled, makeup enhancing every curve and angle of your face. His gaze lingered on your eyes, marvelling at the contrast: one foggy, hazy, while the other was bright and striking. A smirk pulled at his mouth, but he softened it for you.

“Hey,” he whispered, the one word holding more emotion than he’d ever admit, especially with witnesses around.

“Hi,” you whispered back, eyes lowering down his muscled body, the pattern tattoos like rings around his wrist and with the first three buttons of his jumpsuit unbuttoned, you found the top of the rings on his pecs as well. His light-pink hair was brushed down, the tendrils poking his reddish-brown eyes. A peculiar colour. “Hi.”

He smiled. “You already said that, baby.”

Baby. Gosh, you were even more nervous now.

“They said I can’t shake your hand.” You looked at the cuffs on his wrists and tossed a glare at the guards. “Or hands.”

“Fuck them.” Sukuna sat down and you followed. “You’re stunning.”

You blushed. “Thank you.”

“Not gonna compliment me back?” His deep voice was cocky, smug. You loved it.

“You’re handsome and you know it.”

“I sure do.”

You chuckled and Sukuna watched you with a soft expression. “Thanks for . . . you know.”

He understood the words you mouthed and smiled. “A little Ricin never hurt anyone.”

“How did you pull it off?”

His eyebrow arched in surprise. “Just because I’m stuck in this hellhole doesn’t mean I’ve lost everyone’s respect out there. Blood is thicker than water in my clan—except when it comes to my nephew. I just want to drain it out of him.”

Your own smile faltered. “Well . . . I’d like to have coffee with you. But fifty years, Sukuna, is too long.”

He sighed. “I know.”

“Isn’t there any way to get you out?”

Sukuna saw the longing on your face and wanted nothing more than to hold it in his hands and stare at you for hours. He just couldn’t believe you were real. He would’ve killed you if you were cat-fishing him. “I really want to touch you,” he whispered instead. He did. He really fucking did.

You pinched your lips in a smile. “Me, too.”

Sukuna placed his hands on the table and grabbed both of yours. They were so soft and small. He wanted to kiss each finger. Knuckle. Vein.

“Hands off, Ryomen,” the guard warned. He didn’t relent, and simply winked at you. “I said hands off.”

“Fuck you,” Sukuna spat back.

“Visit’s over.” The pair of guards pried Sukuna away, making you reach out for him with a protest.

“I’ll see you this weekend.” Sukuna winked and let the guards drag him away.

You sat stunned before the officers escorted you out of the visiting room and apologised on his behalf.

When the weekend finally rolled around, you found yourself standing at the prison gates once more, entering alongside a pair of guards.

Waiting by the visitor room was a towering figure with straight silver hair and striking blue-eyes. You got a closer look at the badge—Satoru Gojo. You’ve read the name in one of Sukuna’s letters complaining about him.

“Y/N. What a pleasant surprise,” he greeted, waving away the guards and pressing a hand on your back, leading you down the opposite direction.

“We can chat another time, officer. I’ve got to meet Suku—”

“He can wait. Prison teaches a man patience. He’s got fifty more years left. Plenty to visit then.” Gojo opened the door and guided you inside. The shutting made your shoulders flinch. The lock clicking had dread pooling in your stomach. “Sit. Would you like anything to drink?”

You eyed the dark setting bathed in a golden light from a corner lamp. There was a cart with a decanter set and a mini-fridge to the right. A bookshelf and a wardrobe on the left. “I’m fine, thank you.”

Gojo shrugged and poured himself whiskey before taking his seat behind his table. You sat opposite him. “So, what’s your relationship with my favourite prisoner?”

You blinked. “Uh, we’re just pen-pals.”

“Lying to a police officer is a serious offence.”

“I’m telling the truth,” you said. “We’re strictly pen-pals.”

“I’ve read your letters to know that isn’t true, Princess. So unless you want to sit there and lie to my fucking face, I suggest you start using that mouth for good and tell me the goddamn truth.” He slammed his glass down, but his face remained smiling with false politeness.

You felt suffocated in the office, eyes darting left and right for anything sharp in case he tried some other method to get you to talk.

“I’ve been in this field for a decade now to know when someone is hiding something from me,” Gojo continued, taking a leisure sip from his drink. “I have a file on you, Y/N. You’re an only child, with no proper education or a stable job. You’re one bad decision away from being trafficked. You’re submissive, a follower, who if went missing, no one would look for.” Tears welled your eyes at his words. “And I know that bastard’s the reason you’re still living in that dump you call home.”

That was the last nail in the coffin.

“I’ve been following you since your first letter,” he said quietly. “You think I don’t know what you’re up to? Oh, Princess, you couldn’t be any more wrong.” He stood up and rounded his way to you.

You quickly scrambled out of your seat. “Please. I don’t know anything. I—I don’t—Sukuna’s a friend, yes, but I’m not involved in any of his criminal activities.”

“Friend?” Gojo spat out. “That man is the last person you’d ever want as your friend.” He stalked forward and you retracted. “He’s committed more crimes in his lifetime than any other man. He’s killed half the people in this country, extorted money from politicians, burned down houses for fun, and killed my father!” He grabbed the collars of your dress and slammed you back into his wardrobe door. A cry ripped from your throat. “And you, a nobody, has the audacity to call that fucker a friend? Sweetheart, you’re just a ploy, a pawn, a time-pass for him. A hole to warm his cock in.” A sardonic chuckle. “That’ll never happen since he isn’t getting out anytime soon. But, hey, maybe I can prepare you for him.”

Your breath quickened, a whimper slipping past your lips. “How does that make you any better than him?”

Gojo smiled and brushed his lips over your ears. “Because I have the power to get away with it.”

Your eyes, frightened and flickering, dragged up to his blue-ones.

In the blink of an eye, you slapped him across the face, taking him by complete surprise and broke free from his hands. He leaped towards you as you unlocked the door and ran out and down the hall, shouting for help.

A pair of officers turned the corner.

“Help, please!” You fell into the arms of one of them. “Please, he’s going to hurt me!”

“Who?” one asked with concern.

“Satoru Gojo!”

They exchanged a look and briskly turned away, leaving you standing. Their spines straightened as Gojo walked down the hallway, flattening a hand down his chest. The duo saluted him and walked away with their heads down.

Your heart sank.

You had no power here.

“I told you, Princess,” Gojo purred, prowling towards you, “this is my domain.”

You cried out and ran towards the visitor’s room. The door knob was locked and could only be opened with a keycard. “Help!” You slammed your palms on the surface. “Please, someone! Help—ah!”

Gojo gripped the back of your hair and pulled you from the door. “Perfect timing, actually. I’d like to see the look on Ryomen’s face before I split his woman on my cock.” He swiped the card and opened the door, pushing you inside but controlling you with the grip he had on your head.

Sukuna was already standing and enraged, held back by two guards who struggled. He must’ve heard your helpless cries. You wish he didn’t have to. “Let her go, Gojo!”

“Oh, I will,” said Gojo, “as soon as I’m done with her.”

Sukuna growled, thrashing against his restraints. “You fucking prick, I’m gonna tear you in half you if you touch her!”

“Like this?” Gojo squeezed your left breast and laughed.

Sukuna elbowed one of the guards in his nose, momentarily seeking freedom to hit the other. Hope blossomed in your chest as he fought them off and made his way towards you.

Gojo chuckled and pulled out his gun, shooting Sukuna in the leg. You jumped with a scream as he fell to the floor, clutching his thigh. “All this chaos for a common whore,” he muttered. “Come on, Princess. Let’s put you to good use.”

“No, please!” You shouted as he dragged you away. “Sukuna, no! Sukuna!”

“Y/N.” Sukuna reached his arm out, his hand curling into a fist and falling defeatedly onto the floor. “Don’t hurt her, please.” His face was squeezed in pain, as the guards kept him pinned to the floor. “Please! Don’t fucking hurt her—”

The door closed shut, and the last sight before your eyes was Sukuna crying.

Sukuna hadn’t heard from you in over a month.

He’d also spend the month in the infirmary after Uraume did an extensive surgery on his leg. It hadn’t hit a vital artery. He believed Satoru’s aim was calculated to keep him alive. To continue letting him suffer.

Sukuna also went quiet. He hadn’t spoken a single word to anyone except murmuring to himself. He read back on your letters, slept with the papers under his pillow, if he slept at all.

Every morning, afternoon, night, in and out of his dry sleep, he was plotting a way to get out of this hell and find you. Would you even want to see him? Would you even care? Were you even alive? He’d dragged you into his mess, put you in danger, and fell into Satoru’s disgusting trap.

“You need to eat something, Sukuna,” Uraume advised as they have been since his injury. They placed the tray in front of him. “At least eat the yogurt.”

Were you eating? Were you still living in his house? Were you alive? That question rang in his head again.

“For fucks sake.” Uraume brought forth a stool and sat next to his bed, staring at the side of his face. “What the hell do you want to do?”

He wanted to kill Satoru first. Then escape with Toji since he was the only bastard he trusted in this place. Then find you and run away from the law as far as possible. It was a simple plan that required efficiency.

“Are you gonna talk—”

Sukuna shoved the tray aside, the food falling onto the floor. He was irritated by the questions outside and inside of his head. “I need to find her,” he mumbled to himself. “I need to know if she’s alive.” Please, baby, please be alive.

“Everything all right in here, doc?” One of the guards stationed outside the door asked with his head peering through the door.

Sukuna stared at him, then went back to Uraume. They met his eyes with their blank stare. They scanned down his body, to his injured leg, then back to his head.

A sigh left them. “No,” they replied. “Do you mind helping me clean up the mess?”

Sukuna gritted his jaw as the guard walked in, closing the door and crouching down, grumbling curses at Sukuna. Uraume stood from their stool and made their way to the cabinet, pulling out a syringe and a small vial.

Sukuna's eyes lightened, spine straightening. A smile curved at his lip as they flicked the droplets from the tip of the injection and walked over, making small-talk about the weather.

Suddenly, Uraume jabbed the needle into the officer’s neck and pushed down the plunger. He fell to his side, clutching his neck and staring up at them as they shrugged. Sukuna watched with pure delight as his body began to convulse, foam gathering at this mouth and dripping from the side.

Then he stopped.

“He’s dead,” Uraume said before Sukuna could ask. “Works the night shift so you won’t have a problem running into anyone else. Change into his clothes. I’ll drive.” They walked away to grab a face mask.

“Why?” asked Sukuna.

Uraume sighed, head dropping. “Because I fucking hate it here.”

Sukuna was definitely going to hire them once he killed his Gojo, and his nephew.

He quickly changed into the officer’s clothes, giving him a hard kick in the stomach that had Uraume rolling their eyes.

Sukuna followed behind as they led the way. “Let’s take Toji.”

“Why?” they asked. “That’s a hassle.”

“Just feel bad.”

“And when did you start feeling guilt?” Uraume easily slipped past the security gate, waving to the officer who was busy on his phone.

“I don’t know,” he said, smiling because he knew. Sure, you’d only touched him once, but your letters were what truly began to change him. Just the other day, he’d lost a round of blackjack, stacking his debt to Toji by a million, and instead of knocking the guy out cold, Sukuna shook hands and called it a ‘good game.’ “On second thought, let’s leave him here for the time being.” Until he got his money in check.

Once they settled into Uraume’s car, Sukuna quickly discarded the officer's cap, tie, and badges. Uraume entered your address from the letters, and they drove in silence for the next thirty minutes.

When they arrived, the building matched your description: shitty.

Uraume stopped Sukuna before he could leap out of the car. They scanned the street for any signs of police presence. “Go. I’ll wait here.”

Sukuna nodded and dashed out of the car, walking inside the apartment. There was no buzzer system, which meant anyone could stroll in, armed and dangerous. This was a problem. He needed to get you out of here and into one of his safe houses—a hidden place even his bastard nephew didn’t know about.

He hurried up the emergency stairwell to the tenth floor, slightly winded by the time he reached door 1090.

This was it.

With his hands gripping the edges of the door, he hunched forward, heart racing. Please, be alive.

Finally, he knocked.

He chewed the shit out of his bottom lip, hissing impatiently through his teeth. “Come on, Y/N.” He knocked again, his impatience boiling over. “It’s me, Sukuna! Please, open the door.” He pounded harder, fear creeping in with each passing second. The Sukuna Ryomen was . . . scared. “Goddammit!”

“Sukuna . . .?”

He halted mid-breakdown and turned slowly, his heart dropping at the sight of you standing there with two bags of groceries. You looked so fragile, your complexion pale, and the radiance he remembered from your visit had completely vanished.

The grocery bags slipped from your hands and fell to the ground.

In an instant, you both rushed toward each other, and he lifted you off the ground effortlessly. You wrapped your arms around him, sobbing uncontrollably as he buried his hand in the back of your hair, inhaling the comforting scent of your body wash.

“It’s okay, baby,” he whispered. “It’s okay, I’m here.” His eyes were directed straight ahead, and he was shaking. Terribly. “I’m here, sweetheart.”

You pulled back, cradling his face in your small hands. Gently, you brushed aside his dark, mink-like hair, tracing the tattoos on his skin with your fingertips. “You’re alive,” you whispered, overwhelmed by relief. You couldn’t help but touch him, and he simply smiled, allowing you the closeness. “God, you’re alive. Sukuna—you’re really alive. How?”

“Of course, I am. I just needed to know you were alive,” he replied, his hands enveloping your cheeks. “Where did you go? Why did you stop writing to me?”

Your face went blank. “What do you mean?”

“Your letters. You stopped writing to me.”

“They . . .” Your voice cracked. “They told me you were sentenced to death.”

He was taken back. “What the fuck?”

Realisation dawned upon you. The second time you visited Sukuna, Satoru had literally dragged you out of the station, kicking you out the doors. He’d threatened to take you to his office next time, but since he had a meeting with officials that day, he’d reluctantly let you go. That didn’t stop you from sending countless letters, pouring your heart out until, two weeks later, you finally received a notification from the police station. Sukuna had been sentenced to death by lethal injection and was no longer alive. You’d cried for days on end. You imagined he had been cremated and reduced to ashes, stored away somewhere. The thought shattered you. For an entire month, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave your house.

Until tonight.

And he was here. Sukuna was here. He was alive.

“Y/N,” he murmured, his thumb gently brushing the area below your sightless eye. “Let’s head inside, alright?”

You nodded, pressing a soft kiss to the underside of his wrist. He held your hand tightly while using his other arm to carry your grocery bags. Once you reached your apartment, you opened the door and locked it securely. The deadbolt you had installed was a precaution against Satoru, just in case he showed up.

“I’m so happy you’re al—”

Sukuna kissed you before the words could leave your mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck, moaning from the taste of his lips, the taste you’d been craving for months now. He didn’t allow you to breathe, didn’t pull away. You both stood there in the alcove, kissing for minutes, clinging to each other. He cupped the back of your head and drew apart from your lips, peppering kisses over your face, especially your foggy eye.

“I don’t want to fuck you, baby,” he whispered in your ear. “I want to make love to you. For hours.” Your grip tightened in his shirt. “Then I need you to pack everything in a bag and run away with me.”

“Run away?” You searched his dark-reddish eyes. “Run away where?”

His knuckles grazed your wet cheek. “Somewhere not even God can find us.”

You swallowed hard. “They’ll send out a manhunt, Sukuna. What if we get caught? What if they take you—”

He cut you off with a kiss. “No one is going to take me away from you. Do you get that?” His strong fingers moved through your hair. “I’d turn this world to dust before that happens.”

Your insides melted from the threat. “Take me,” you murmured over his lips. He kissed you. “Take me everywhere, anywhere, wherever, as long as it’s with you.”

Sukuna lifted you effortlessly, carrying you like a bride as he kicked open your bedroom door. He set you down on the bed, then began stripping off his clothes, revealing the geometric tattoos that marked his thighs and torso. You were caught off guard by how quickly he moved, fumbling to take off your sweater and jeans. By the time you looked back at him, he was already naked, and your gaze dropped to what you could only describe as a gloriously, long erection.

“Woah,” you whispered, feeling your mouth go dry. “You’re abnormally big.”

“You can take it.” He leaned over you, tearing your panties without a second thought. Before you could protest about them being your favorite pair, he spread your legs and went down on you. “Oh, my god—Sukuna—wait—”

“Waited too long,” he growled, his mouth finding your clit as he buried his nose between your wet folds. He nipped, licked, and bit, his tongue plunging deep into you, creating messy sounds that filled the air. You couldn't form words or catch your breath, gripping the roots of his hair tightly.

When you came like a flood, Sukuna lifted your hips, making sure not a single drop of you was lost to the sheets. He let out loud, deep moans as he sloppily lapped at your sensitive cunt.

He wiped his glistening mouth with his fingers and then pressed them against your lips. You eagerly sucked on his warm, thick digits, noting the lustrous glint in his eyes. He pulled his fingers out abruptly. “Suck my cock.”

Suck his what?

You looked down and saw him leaking at the tip. You clenched your legs, unsure. He wanted you to take that into your mouth?

You licked your lips, managing to kneel while he stood before you. He took hold of himself, rubbing the tip against your lips. You instinctively flicked your tongue out to taste him, causing him to flinch. “Sorry—”

“Don’t apologize.” He seemed to enjoy it. “Just take it in your mouth.”

You nodded, wrapping your fingers around his hot, veiny length. You opened your jaw as wide as you could and slowly took him in. His head fell back, and he engulfed your face with his palms. Your performance was mediocre, and yet he was entertained.

His tip pressed against the back of your throat, making you pull back to cough. He laughed softly, brushing your cheek with his hand.

“Come on, baby. You need to get used to it.”

“I’ve never done this before,” you replied, your voice shaky as you reached for him again.

“Stick your tongue out.”

You took a deep breath and extended your tongue. He rested the head of his cock on it and started to move his hips slowly.

Slowly, you took him in, feeling his satisfaction as he gently rocked his hips back and forth. He tasted warm and a little salty, and you found your hand wandering between your legs, seeking some relief.

“I’m going to pick up the pace, alright, baby?”

You nodded in response.

“Don’t be embarrassed if you choke,” he said, hooking a stray lock behind your ear. “It’ll just make me come faster.”

With that, he thrust deeper, and you gripped his hips tightly, struggling to catch your breath. He noticed and pulled back slightly to give you a moment, but it was brief before he pushed back in again. “You’re taking me so well, baby. Fuck.” His movements became more feverish, and you felt the pressure building as you choked and gagged, saliva escaping at the corners of your mouth. “Fuck, I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come down your throat.”

You tapped his leg, shaking your head.

“No?” He smirked. “You don’t want me to come down your throat?”

You shook your head again and pointed between your legs.

In an instant, Sukuna pulled out. He flipped you onto your chest, lifting your ass up in the air. Without a second thought, he thrust himself deep inside you, and you cried out his name into the pillow.

He felt so full, so thick, pushing into you with a force that made your breath hitch. It was everything you needed—so good, so fucking good. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he groaned. He filled you completely, driving into you with a fast rhythm that left you moaning, completely lost in the pleasure.

Your nails clawed at the sheets as his thick tip pressed against your womb, punctuated by the stinging slaps of his hands against your ass. He showered you with a blend of sweet and dirty words—“good fucking girl,” “cock slut,” “so perfect and tight,” “little whore”—and you pushed back, needing him deeper and deeper.

Sukuna released a torrent of warm cum inside you, still driving his hips against you, holding you securely by the waist. The sensation sent waves of pleasure through you, and he pulled out, flipping you onto your back. He bent your knees, driving himself back inside without hesitation. How was he still so hard?

Your hands cupped his flushed, beautiful face, a lazy smile stretching across both your lips. Sukuna leaned in, kissing you deeply before trailing his lips down to your neck while his hand found its way to your breast. “I’m not on birth control anymore, you know?”

“Good.” He pulled back to meet your gaze. “And don’t even think about getting back on it.”

“But we can’t afford the risk, Suku—”

“I love you,” he said, his grip firm on your jaw. Everything inside you exploded. “I love you, baby. I love you so fucking much that I’ll take every fucking risk.”

You moaned softly as he came again, your trembling fingers brushing against his lips. “I love you, too.” He kissed your fingertips, a promise in every touch. “I’ll take every risk with you.”

“Fuck yeah you will.” He didn’t pull out, his eyes locked on yours. “Starting with putting a baby in you.”

You happily accepted your fate.

Sukuna pulled the trigger, shooting another police officer in the back of his head. The sound of the gunfire mixed with the blaring sirens, echoing through the flickering lights of the corridors—a devious melody composed just for him. He chuckled low, the corners of his mouth pulling up in a grin as another officer lunged out, attempting to stop him—pathetic. A single shot rang out, and the man crumpled like paper.

The path to Satoru’s office was a long one, and the bodies he left sprawled out in his wake were only a brief distraction from the task at hand. He had things to do today, after all.

Another officer stumbled into view, eyes wide, panic evident. He didn’t stand a chance. Sukuna barely glanced at him as he fired, stepping over the man as he slumped against the wall. Blood splattered his shoes, but it was hardly the worst stain on his day.

You were going to be pissed. He could practically hear the biting tone, the disappointed scowl that’d meet him the moment he finally made it to Mai’s first birthday party. Sukuna scoffed as he shot a bullet straight through a door that dared open near him, knocking down yet another obstacle.

But this was necessary. He needed to do this.

Free Toji. Kill Gojo. And then, eventually, deal with his meddling nephew. Everything would finally align, and maybe—just maybe—he could stop all this. For you. For your daughter.

Satoru’s office was close now. He could smell the antiseptic scent of the door, the false air of authority that seemed to reek from it. He cocked his gun, steeling himself. Because when he was done here—when he’d finally finished what he’d started—he’d make it up to you.

Or so he told himself, as another officer charged and met the floor with a hole in his skull.

Sukuna didn’t bother with the doorknob. He slammed his boot into the door, sending it splintering inward with a loud crack. The office was stripped bare; Satoru’s usual pile of clutter, the irritating stench of his cologne—gone. Only the dust of where things once sat remained on the shelves and desk.

The bastard had fled.

Sukuna’s jaw clenched as he surveyed the room. Gojo knew he was coming and had bolted like a coward hours ago. He pulled his lighter from his pocket, flipping it open with a flick of his thumb, the small flame dancing aglow. Without a second thought, he stepped to the heavy, pretentious curtains Gojo insisted on, pressing the flame to the thick fabric. It caught quickly, embers licking up and curling black around the edges as the fire took hold, consuming Satoru’s last pathetic hold on this place.

He turned and walked out, ignoring the smoke that was already billowing into the hall. The prison alarm was still blaring, red lights flashing down the cold corridors as he made his way to the cells. Every so often, he’d pause, assessing the prisoner cowering behind bars. Rapists, pedophiles, molesters, abusers, killers of innocent lives—he moved on from them. But when he found those who didn’t quite repulse him, he took a single shot at their lock, releasing them in a stream of confused, wary freedom.

As he approached the far end of the corridor, a familiar sight greeted him—his old cell. And standing behind those hard, metal bars, arms crossed, a faint smirk tugging at his lips, was Toji.

“Didn’t think you’d come back to this hellhole,” Toji remarked.

“Not for long,” Sukuna replied, levelling his gun at the lock. He fired once, the lock shattering as the cell door swung open.

Toji stepped out of his cell, took one look around, then paused. “Hold up.”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow, watching as the man crouched beside a loose brick in the wall. With a wry smile, he pulled out an old, scratched-up plastic bottle with a wriggling, sickly-looking worm inside. He tapped the side of the bottle, making the creature twist and writhe. “Almost forgot my little friend here.”

Sukuna barked a short laugh. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

Alarms blared louder as they navigated the winding corridors and ran past prisoners surging toward freedom. Some guards tried to block the path, but they were quickly swept aside by Sukuna’s bullets and Toji’s fists. By the time they hit the outer gates, the entire prison was pandemonium, prisoners scattering into the open like ants from a burning nest.

Outside, a sleek, black car idled just past the gate. Uraume sat coolly behind the wheel, watching the stampede of convicts with bored detachment. As they approached, Uraume rolled down the window, glancing at them with their nose slightly crinkled.

“I could smell you two from a mile away,” they said dryly, eyes flicking to the stains of blood on their clothes. “Maybe next time, schedule a prison massacre that doesn’t fall on your daughter’s birthday?”

“Just drive,” Sukuna replied, sliding into the backseat with Toji following. Toji glanced at Uraume with a quick nod, still keeping a light hold on his bottle, the worm twisting inside.

“Welcome back to the real world, Fushiguro,” they said, starting the car as they drove off into the night.

The road stretched long and dark, winding into the depths of a thick forest. The further they drove, the thicker the trees became, their branches curving overhead to cast everything in shadows. The road narrowed into a rugged trail, overgrown and wild. Uraume navigated it deftly, until at last, the forest opened up, and they could see the soft glimmer of moonlight on the water beyond.

Perched on the edge of a cliff overlooking the ocean stood their safe house—a dark brick estate against the endless stretch of water. Waves crashed against the rocks far below, the scent of salt and sea heavy in the air.

Sukuna looked at the house, then at Toji’s surprised face.

“This is where you’ve been hiding for the two years?” he asked as soon as they were out of the car.

“Not for long if I fuck this up.” Sukuna slipped in through the garage, keeping his steps light. He had just one goal at this moment: reach the shower before you spotted the blood streaked on his clothes and the smell of gunpowder clinging to him.

But as he shut the door, there you were, arms crossed, eyes sharp as they landed on him.

“Sukuna,” you started, an edge in your tone that he recognized all too well. “Do you have any idea what day it is? Look at you; you're a mess!” You gestured at the dark stains on his shirt and his unmistakable smirk.

Instead of trying to dodge the lecture, he listened, that faint smile tugging at his lips as he watched you, soaking in each scolding word. You were the one person who never held back with him, and it made something dangerous in him soften, something in him settle. “I know, baby,” he replied, pecking your cheek. “But I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“Barely,” you replied, sighing, though you couldn’t quite hide the relief in your voice. You glanced over his shoulder. “Toji, Uraume—it’s good to see you both.”

Uraume gave a slight bow, a wry smile still tugging at their lips, while Toji just gave you a quick nod.

You waved a hand, turning back to the kitchen. “Both of you boys—shower, now. I won’t have the two of you smelling like a prison while I’m trying to decorate my daughter’s cake. Go on!”

Toji gave Sukuna a knowing look and shrugged, as if to say, She’s right. Sukuna shot him a warning look, then followed up the stairs, chuckling under his breath as he imagined how you’d cornered him like this.

Fifteen minutes later, he stepped out of the shower, cleaned up, feeling far lighter as he tugged on a fresh shirt and came downstairs, catching the scent of the dinner you’d prepared.

He walked over to you, wrapping his arms around you and pressing a kiss to your temple. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t hide the small smile that melted your anger as he pulled you close.

“Gojo got away,” he murmured. “He knew I was coming, and he ran like the coward he is. But I’ll find him. And I’ll make him pay for what he did to you. I swear it.”

You paused, looking up into his eyes, your hand settling on his cheek. “I know you will, Sukuna. But don’t miss the important things here. We’re what’s important now, not just revenge.”

The words took root in him, grounding him, but that flicker of rage still danced in his eyes. He pulled you close, pressing his forehead to yours. “I’ll never let him touch us again. I promise you that.”

Just as you leaned in for another kiss, Sukuna heard the faint sound of your daughter stirring awake from her nap on the living room floor. Mai’s soft little whimpers broke the room’s quiet. Instinctively, he abandoned your kiss, his attention snapping to her as he practically floated over to where she was squirming in her pink dress, rubbing her tiny fists over her eyes.

“There’s my girl,” he murmured, scooping her up with all the gentleness he could muster. Her sleepy eyes blinked open, and he was rewarded with that toothy little grin she’d recently mastered, one that brought an uncharacteristic softness to his entire face. He pressed a cascade of kisses on her cheeks, nose, forehead—anywhere he could reach. “Look at you, sweetheart. All dressed up for your birthday, huh? The prettiest girl in the world.”

You laughed softly from the kitchen, watching as Sukuna held her close, stepping into an impromptu waltz around the living room, his steps surprisingly skilled. She squealed in delight, her small hands reaching up to his face as he spun her around. Even Toji, who had just come down from the shower, stopped in his tracks at the sight, a rare, amused smile tugging at his mouth.

Sukuna glanced up, catching Toji’s presence, and with a proud smirk said, “Toji, meet my daughter, Mai. She’s already got more spirit than most of the people you and I have met.”

Toji stepped forward, studying your daughter. He reached out a hand, and she looked at him with wide eyes, inspecting him with her natural, innocent curiosity. “She looks like trouble. Must take after her old man.”

“Her mother, mostly,” Sukuna said in your direction, bouncing her lightly. “She’s going to have a whole world to handle, with us around.”

In the background, Uraume was setting the table, their usual precision in each movement. They threw Sukuna a blank look, brushing off their hands. “Now that the table’s set, if you’d all just take your seats, maybe we can have a peaceful birthday dinner without the talk of blood and violence for once.”

Sukuna chuckled, shooting them a dry look before turning back to his daughter. Holding Mai close, he took a seat at the head of the table with you beside him. He looked around, taking in the sight—the cake you’d just set down, the quiet chatter as Uraume and Toji exchanged comments, and his daughter babbling in his lap, still pawing at his face with sticky fingers.

For the first time in as long as he could remember, he felt peace.

The “Happy Birthday” song had been sung, candles blown out, cake shared, and Toji had crashed in the guest room, completely knocked out. Uraume, too, was resting in another room, finally allowing herself a few hours of sleep.

In your bed, the soft rise and fall of your daughter’s tiny breaths filled the space between you and Sukuna. She slept peacefully between you both, tiny fingers curled into fists as she dreamed. But you and Sukuna were both wide awake, eyes locked on each other in the moonlight. His hand drifted up, fingertips brushing your cheek.

“Do you remember my first letter?” you asked.

A smirk began at his lips. “You mean the diary entry about the cockroaches in your kitchen and how you thought seducing your landlord was a better solution than paying rent?”

You laughed, covering your mouth to keep quiet, not wanting to wake your baby. He loved that laugh—the way it sounded like music only he got to hear.

“Or how no one with one functioning eye could ever be taken seriously romantically,” he added. “Debunked, by the way.”

Your laugh softened, and you looked at him with a smile that held a thousand memories. “Do you remember the last thing I wrote?”

“The part about Satanism?”

You laughed again, the sound bubbling up and melting into the dark. And as he listened, he couldn’t help but chuckle alongside, his thumb tracing along your cheek, taking in the moment like he was trying to memorise it.

You took a breath, glancing down before meeting his eyes again. “I said I was lonely as hell, remember?” Sadness wove into your words. “And . . . I was. Back then, I thought no one could ever really understand me. Until you did.”

Sukuna shook his head. “You were never meant to be alone, baby,” he murmured. “Not then, not ever. Not while I’m here.”

You swallowed, heart catching as you looked at the life you’d built, the fragile happiness that now lay nestled between you both. “I’m just . . . scared sometimes,” you admitted. “I’m scared of losing this. Of losing you. I don’t know if I could protect what we have.”

“We’ll protect it together,” Sukuna affirmed. “Nothing will take this from us. Not while I’m still breathing.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was deep, reassuring, exactly like the one he’d give you when you’d sealed your vows. When he pulled back, you met his eyes, a soft smile tugging at your mouth.

“I love you, Sukuna,” you whispered, fingers brushing his sharp jaw. “Genuinely, your wife.”

He took them and gave a kiss to the tips. “And I love you most, baby. Genuinely, your husband.”

Moments later, your eyes drifted shut, your breathing evening out as you finally slipped into sleep. But Sukuna stayed awake, his gaze never leaving you, or your daughter.

This was the family he’d fought and bled for, the life he’d killed to create. And yet, an unsettling undercurrent of unfinished business tugged at his nerves. But tonight, he forced it away, just for a while.

For now, there was no room for anything but the second chance he’d been given.

Genuinely, by you.

855 notes · View notes