#none of you fuckers deserve him

[sailorsally]

if i see one more post about how misha collins shouldn't be compared to the guy who plays buck on 911 because misha is a terrible man who lead on and queerbaited spn fans for years etc etc I swear I will borrow hoves from my best friend Jackles and stomp y'all to death cASTIEL LITERALLY CONFESSED HIS GAY ANGEL LOVE TO DEAN YOUR UNEDUCATED NETFLIX WATCHING SANITIZED REPRESENTATION CRYING B A B I E S

[solplease]

meet cassian :]

close ups and more info under the cut!

gloomiest guy you’ll ever meet

pathetic loser

he’s an artist 

comes from a rich family

he barely leaves his house, he stays inside a LOOOOOT

insane attachment issues

clingy and dependant yandere

he guilt trips a lot (isn’t really aware of it lmao) can be really manipulative without trying unfortunately

texts you constantly but if you don’t answer back in like 5 minutes he starts freaking out 

sometimes he’s normal enough but if you take too long he WILL lose it

doesn't like it when you talk to other people, why can't you just talk to him? is he not good enough for you? what's so interesting about other people anyway?

he hates stairs (he's fallen down and up the stairs WAYYY too many times)

shy (lmao ok) and introverted (has a really hard time talking to people)

has a mascot! (his name is PopUp :] he made him for a school project and just ended up liking him a lot lol)

sopping wet cat

don’t be mean to him, he doesn’t like it, even as a joke

doesn’t get much social interaction cause he stays inside a lot

WAYYYY more comfortable texting, he’s like a totally different person when you’re texting him

spams a lot. like a lot

used to be a lot more outgoing and social

wishes you could be by his side 24/7

he’s sad a lot of the time

feels unloved, please shower him in love

really pessimistic when it comes to himself

he’s really passionate about art

you and art are the two things that make him extremely happy

if you thought nox was tired, meet cassian! he has an even worse sleeping schedule than nox

he’ll do ANYTHING to keep you by his side

so he can and will kidnap you! lol!

is also a stalker… great..!

has probably installed a camera somewhere in your room (um??)

you’re probably one of the only people that can convince him to leave his room

really loves shoujo manga, has fantasized about being the perfect male lead for you (he really wants a romance like that, only with you) 

he's a huge romantic, he wants the two of you to have a happy life together

so please don’t leave him. please

takes a lot of walks at night, don’t worry he doesn’t spend ALL of his time inside (he wishes he could tho.)

he wants to have his happy ending with you <3

[zarameraki]

🖊️💌 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 back 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. “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 small 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 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.

[rainy-writers]

Rhaenyra reminds me of those white moms who have kids with a different race father and then refuses to acknowledge that they don’t have the same privileges as her. like she’s had so much privilege and power her whole life she can’t even see the corner she’s just backed her child, her heir into. She’s so dense that it hurts. Jace is right. ALICENT was right. Having three fucking kids with a man whose genes had proved to curb stomp yours IS an insult! Not bc bastards are evil or anything, but it’s a fucking insult to Jace, to Luke, to Joffery to drag them in a situation where they’re constantly demonized for YOUR actions and then REFUSE to own up to it even when your child is begging you with literal tears in their eyes to not take the one thing that saves him from the bullying and harassment YOU brought onto them. At this point, I’m extremely grateful the story ends with the targs in disarray bc none of those white haired fuckers deserve the throne (except for Baela and Jace, with brown hair

And to make it even worse, Jace is RIGHT. When the war is over and your brown haired, pug nosed child who looks exactly like someone NOT his legal father is named heir and you’ve taken his ONLY symbol of legitimacy away what will you do then?? Hmm?? I swear…

[heehoonies]

lemonade

description: sunghoon is absolutely infatuated by his step sister, and he knows his best friends, jay and jake, both want a taste. sunghoon shows them they can touch, but only with his permission.

word count: 8k

contents: step bro sunghoon & (step) brother's best friends jayke x reader, porn with (little) plot, STEPCEST!! dni if uncomfy, hoonie is possessive and mean at times >.<

smut warnings under the cut

now playing: lemonade by nct 127

smut warnings: reader is kinda dumb and innocent (but she knows what she wants), sunghoon has a monster cock, a couple mlm moments (bisexual king jay rise!!!!), hard and soft dom!sunghoon, service dom!jay, dom!jake (a few sub!jake moments bc.. yeah), sub!reader, daddy and sir kinks, foursome, unprotected sex (do not. do this!), pussy drunk jake, breeding kink, praise, degradation, pet names, slight voyeurism, cum eating, multiple orgasms, cumming inside, creampie, anal, y/n gets fucked in all three holes at once, oral (m. and f. rec), face fucking, spit as lube, choking, bulge kink, possessive and kinda mean sunghoon... erm i think that's it!

“dude, there’s no way you don’t think she’s hot!”

sunghoon shakes his head at jay’s admission, groaning as he waves a hand at his best friend, trying to shoo him away with pure willpower. “shut up, will you? that’s my step sister you’re talking about dude.”

sunghoon watches his best friends with disinterest, anger bubbling as he scoffs at the way they grill him. the way you and him behave behind closed doors is truly none of their damn business.

“your step sister is hot as fuck, hoon, “if she comes out here in that tiny ass yellow bikini she wore yesterday…” jake nearly moans at the thought, staring up at the underside of the beach umbrella he sits beneath, snuggling further into the lounge chair he lies on. “i’m gonna take her in the damn pool, i don’t care if either of you fuckers see us.”

“not if i fuck her first,” jay shoves jake, forcing the younger man to spring to life, chasing jay before they both jump into the pool. the two continue fighting once they land inside, jay dunking jake’s head underwater for a moment as sunghoon shakes his head, watching his best friends wrestle. he scowls at the two of them, knowing neither of them deserve to be around let alone fuck you. but he tolerates it, for now, knowing you somewhat enjoy their presence, often giggling at their dumb antics. a giggle that sunghoon often thinks about when he’s jerking it in the shower, not that he’d ever admit it.

sunghoon watches the pair as they jostle around in the warm water, time passing quickly as they fight for dominance. “you two are so annoying,” jay and jake both wave him off, “whatever man, you love us!” jay blows sunghoon a kiss before jake wrestles him under the water’s surface once more.

“hi, hoonie,” you smile as you step outside, the sight of a brand new bikini sunghoon has never seen adorning your gorgeous figure. it takes everything in him to not pop a boner in his swim trunks, watching as the deep pink material compliments your skin beautifully. a bikini that he wants to see on the floor. “what are they doing?” you watch jay and jake with a small pout.

“hell if i know,” sunghoon trails his gaze up from your feet, with cute pink painted toenails to match your swimsuit. he sees strong, sleek calves followed by plush thighs, ones that he’d love to feel clamped around his head as he makes you see stars. the waist he’d love to grab and bruise in his tight grip, to the toned stomach that he wants to see bulge from the press of his cock deep in your cervix.

his eyes go further, to the cleavage visible in your poor excuse for a bikini top, plump tits nearly spilling out, begging to be sucked and marked. sunghoon can see your nipples poking through the thin fabric and the sight makes his mouth quirk up, fangs urging to nip and bite at them until they stand at attention, begging for more. your shoulders, which would be prettier covered in purple and blue and sprawled out against his white sheets. your neck, begging to be bitten to the point of nearly bleeding, his fangs digging into your delicate skin.

“sunghoon?” you tear him from his thoughts, eyes darting up to meet your gaze. well, fuck, now he’s hard, right when you’re looking at him with your big eyes and pink, pouty lips. pouty lips that never fail to tease him into oblivion, giggling lightly as you manage to press your ass against his bulge at every possible moment. “hoon, can you put this on my back? i can’t reach…”

you lie on your stomach on the lounge chair next to him, turning your head to the side to watch your step brother. he doesn’t move, and you whine, “hoonie, please.”

the tone in your voice makes sunghoon groan, throwing his head back to hide the noise that slips out, not wanting you to see how easily he’s crumbling when he hears you practically beg for him to touch your back. sunghoon knows you’d sound even prettier begging for his cock, squirming in his hold and nearly crying from how good he’s making you feel.

“sure,” sunghoon obliges, rising to his feet before straddling you, sitting on your ass as he squirts a glob of sunscreen into his hand. you reach back and untie the back of your bikini, the sides falling down to allow him to further cover your back. sunghoon feels his dick stir and press against your ass, catching a glimpse of your sideboob as it spills out of your top and lies against the fabric of the chair. you press back against him discreetly, biting on your hand to prevent a moan from tumbling out of your glossy lips. you love the little game you and sunghoon play, pushing further and further until one of you breaks. he’s yet to fuck you, often times stumbling away from you to hide in the bathroom, fucking his fist at the thought of your tight heat wrapped around his achingly hard dick. you continue to hold back, waiting for him to make the first move, trying to protect your heart from him. you don’t want to just be a quick fuck for him.

sunghoon begins at the top of your shoulder blades, rubbing diligently with gentle pressure as he spreads the cream along your upper body. “mmm, feels good, hoonie,” you smile against your hand, eyes flicking back to look at him. you find his gaze trained on your body, taking in the relaxed look of your shoulders. “keep going,” you stir him on, keeping your voice low, feeling his hard on press further into the fat of your ass.

“fuck,” sunghoon mumbles under his breath as he takes another dollop of sunscreen and begins making his way further down your back. it feels so good, your eyes fluttering shut as you take in all the sensations of sunghoon pressed against you, hands wandering and cock stirring against your bikini bottoms. you take in the feeling of sunghoon, his presence overwhelming you deeply and clouding your thoughts with images of your pussy stuffed with his big cock. what you wouldn’t do to have him slide your bottoms to the side and slip right in, wet enough to not need any prep. the thought of his cock filling your hole in the middle of your backyard, right in front of his friends, as he continues to massage your back makes your wetness seep deeper into the flimsy fabric. you wish he’d claim you right here in front of them, not completely oblivious to the feelings both of his friends share for you.

it doesn’t matter how jake and jay feel, though, because you know they could never satisfy you the way sunghoon could. you wouldn’t mind a little fun with them while you wait for sunghoon to finally pounce on you though, like a little warm up before the main event of your step brother bottoming out in your aching hole.

“there you go, princess,” sunghoon ties your bikini top again before rising to his feet, adjusting his swim shorts to conceal his raging boner.

“thank you, hoonie,” you rise to your feet, placing a delicate kiss on his cheek and not waiting for his reaction before approaching the pool, walking down slowly, finally catching the attention of jay and jake. sunghoon blushes lightly at your affection, his heart stirring now alongside the hard on in his trunks.

jay lets go of jake’s head, who bobs back up from underwater. he gasps, pushing his water soaked bangs out of his face as he blinks, adjusting to the bright sun beaming in his eyes once more. “hi, y/n,” jay’s sultry tone makes your knees buckle, but luckily you’re only a few steps into the warm water, able to reach the bottom of the pool with your feet.

“y/n!” jake’s alluring accent makes you smile, his excitement to see you filling your heart with joy. “glad you could join us, it’s always more fun with you here, beautiful.”

you quirk an eyebrow, training your gaze on jake, “is that so?” he nods, approaching you. “if we can convince hoon to come in the pool, we can play chicken,” jake exclaims, “and i’m the strongest base out of all three of us. i’d never let you fall into the pool, angel.” he winks at you, the sight stirring a flutter against your ribcage.

“okay, jakey,” you spare a glance towards sunghoon, who is watching the three of you with a guarded look on his sharp features, his eyes now adorned with sunglasses to shield his true emotions as he waits for his cock to calm down. “hoonie! come join us!”

“he’s refused to get in the pool all day,” jay joins jake at your side, your head feeling a little lighter at the realization of having all three men’s attention on you, with jay and jake both crowding your space intentionally. “even tried to bribe him but he didn’t move.”

“i can think of a way to get him in here,” jake mumble absentmindedly, jay snickering at the off handed comment.

sunghoon sets his sunglasses down, finally feeling like his dick has calmed enough to be in your vicinity once more. he dives into the pool gracefully, head peeking back above the water and pushing the hair from his eyes in one swift, elegant movement. you watch as his shoulders glisten in the sunlight, urging the water to part so you could trail your eyes further down his torso, want to take a peek at his bare skin as you know how hard he’s been hitting the gym recently. the sight of him sweating in the makeshift gym he’s made with jay in your garage always brings you to your knees before you retreat up the stairs and whip out a toy you picked out specifically after hypothesizing how big sunghoon’s cock is.

it’ll never be as good as the real thing, though, and you ache for him to finally give up this back and forth game you’re playing. your resolve is too strong to cave first, afraid that his feelings won’t mirror your own.

“jake wants to play chicken, let me on your shoulders.”

sunghoon obliges with a huff, ducking down to allow jay to hop on his shoulders as jake hoists you up onto his, gripping your plush thighs tightly, glancing up at you with a sly grin on his face. one turn and jake would have his nose pressed into your heat, he imagines how good you’d taste, how warm you’d be as he dove in with his tongue, fingers reaching where he can’t as he eats you like you’re his last meal.

the game begins, jay reaching over and grabbing your arms and shoulders, leaning in to try and throw you off balance. your perky boobs press against his chest and he feels his strength begin to crumble, “stop being so strong!” you whine, pushing against jay as you try to shove him off sunghoon’s broad shoulders. the words hit his ears with a rush, his resolve tumbling down along with his body as both him and sunghoon fall into the water. the realization of you thinking he’s strong rings in jay’s mind as he watches you celebrate above him. “get down from there,” the corner of his mouth tugs up into a smile as he watches you.

“but i like being tall!” you complain, hands reaching down to hold jake’s to keep your balance.

jake squeezes your hands as he tries to lead you off his shoulders, “come on, y/n.”

you shake your head, watching as sunghoon trails his way up your figure to meet your gaze. “y/n,” is all he says before you’re allowing jake to help you down, your stubborn, flirty resolve crumbling instantly under sunghoon’s hard stare.

jay wraps you in his arms as you breach the water again, leading you to squirm in his hold, “jay, let go of meeeee,” you whine, slapping at his shoulders lightly.

“let me hold you, pretty,” jay replies lowly, the timbre in his voice sending heat to your core, “mmf– don’t call me that, jay.”

“yeah?” jay laughs, low and sensual as he holds you, “why, baby?”

you shake you head, shoving to get away from him, unable to hide your whiny tone, “let go!”

his steely voice draws your gaze to meet his, eyes going wide. “you can’t even give me a reason why i should let you go, can you?”

you shake your head meekly, watching his eyes darken as he watches you, eyes darting around your face. “that’s what i thought.” he snakes a hand down your body, relishing in the smooth curve of your hips before resting a hand on your thigh. your breath hitches, glancing over at sunghoon, who is playing basketball with jake merely a few feet away. you miss the way he watches you and jay out of the corner of his eye, jealousy brewing beneath his gorgeous skin.

jay dips down to kitten lick once at the junction that joins your neck to your shoulder, chasing the action with a shallow bite in the same spot as he snakes a hand inside your swim bottoms. you yelp in response to his hand as it swipes through your folds, pinching your clit lightly before retracting his hand and giving your ass a light squeeze. 

“i’m hungry!” jake whines.

“come on, i’ll make sandwiches,” jay jumps out of the pool and you watch as the water drips off of his body, highlighting the taut muscles of his back. he grabs his towel, turning back to see you staring, winking at you as you float below him. “you coming, sweetheart?”

you blush at his double entendre, whether intentional or not, and nod lightly, making your way to the stairs. jake steps out, grabbing two towels and waits at the last step. you join jake and he wraps your body in the towel, relishing in the expanses of skin he feels in this fleeting moment.

“can i have a peanut butter and jelly?” you stand next to jay, drying yourself off before tossing the towel into the laundry bin next to the back door, skin now mostly dry with a grumbling stomach.

“whatever you want,” jay smiles, leading the way into the kitchen where he begins grabbing items skillfully, knowing the layout of sunghoon’s kitchen better than sunghoon himself.

sunghoon lags behind, cleaning up the area around the pool outside like a good step brother would. you hoist yourself onto the kitchen island, eyes trained down on jay as he settles the items next to you. he gives your thigh a small squeeze before he begins preparing your sandwich.

jake makes space for himself between your legs, pressing himself into you with a smile. “i’m hungry, angel,” he watches you with a look swimming in his eyes that you’ve seen often on jay, but infrequently on jake. jake is staring at you with want devouring his gaze, his hands resting on the outside of your thighs. “you gonna help me, baby?”

you blush at the implication, “what’re you hungry for?”

jake’s hand reach your waist, gently toying with the ties of your bikini bottoms, his touches burn against your skin, lighting everything aflame with his fingertips. jake leans in close, his lips ghosting over yours, his slightly labored breaths fanning across your skin. “take a guess.”

you shake your head lightly and jake quirks an eyebrow at your disagreement. jay glances over, chuckling deeply, the sound missing your ears as all of your sense are dialed in to jake’s body hovering over you.

jake moves his hands from the strings of your bikini, instead resting them on the inside of your thighs, “don’t even need to take these off, do i, baby?” jake hooks a single finger in the fabric, tugging it to the side, revealing your wet pussy. “mm, jay, look at that,” jake groans, head falling back as he glances at his best friend. jay feels his dick stir at the sight of you exposed for the two of them. “look at you, dirty girl,” jay quips, cutting your sandwich into two triangles before handing you one of them in the middle of the kitchen, where anyone could walk in. “eat,” jay commands and you nod, not knowing the word was for both you and the man between your legs.

jake dives in, testing the waters with a kitten lick at your clit. your hand stills, unable to bring the sandwich to your mouth. jake notices your reaction, flattening his tongue and licking a long stripe this time, dipping through your folds. he moans against your heat, a rumble you feel all the way up in the crown of your head.

“what did i say?” jay asks you and you hesitantly meet his gaze, seeing blown out pupils meet your own. he guides your hand to your mouth, forcing you to take a bite. jay uses his other hand to push jake’s head further into your core. you groan, barely able to swallow your food as you clamp your thighs around jake’s head.

you groan, eyes watching jay and his gaze that’s trained on you. “mmf–” he shoves the sandwich back into your mouth as jake takes a devastatingly long lick before dipping his tongue into your hole. you choke down the bite of food, glancing down at jake, his need to eat you out pouring out in droves that wash over all three of you. jay’s hand never leaves the back of his head, encouraging jake to go deeper.

you hear the backdoor slam gently as sunghoon enters, drying his hair off with a towel. he glances over at the three of you, fire stirring in his stomach as his body goes completely still. sunghoon feels stupidly angry at the display in front of him. his two stupidly horny best friends truly couldn’t keep their hands to themselves, could they? even after he’d endlessly warned them?

sunghoon is determined to show them who you belong to.

“all three of you,” he booms, tossing the towel on the floor, “upstairs. now.”

jake continues lapping at your heat, adding a finger along with his mouth as it dips further into your warm walls. jay yanks him off by his hair, shoving him towards the staircase, knowing how absolutely pussy drunk his best friend gets, a feeling that makes every sound fall on deaf ears when speaking to the blonde man. jake looks dazed before seeing sunghoon standing there, not realizing the man had come inside, considering he was neck deep in your pussy. jay takes the sandwich from your hand and sets it to the side, helping you off the island, no urgency in his actions. jake nearly dashes upstairs, the slightest bit afraid of sunghoon and what he’s going to do, not that he’d ever admit it outloud.

you adjust your bottoms so that they’re covering you fully once more, shame covering your features, cascading over your cheeks and reaching the tips of your ears.

jay steps upstairs slowly, not sparing a glance back at you and sunghoon, who stand alone near the backdoor. sunghoon raises an eyebrow at you, “oh, now you’re shy?” his tone drips venom.

you shake your head lightly before turning to the stairs and trudging up, belly burning at the thought of what sunghoon has planned. you find sunghoon’s room, stepping inside and you’re greeted with the familiarity of his space, one you often spent a lot of time in. mostly teasing sunghoon, pushing him to his breaking point, lingering as long as possible before he’d shove you out with a frenzied lock of the door.

jay is sprawled out on sunghoon’s desk chair, swaying back and forth lazily. jake is sitting on the edge of the bed, eyes trained on the door. you join jake on the bed, meeting his eye for a moment, the fear and need in your eyes overflowing with blink of your long lashes.

“hoon, please don’t be mad–” you beg him, eyes wide as you watch him enter, the familiar sound of the lock twisting behind him.

the anger ruminating off of sunghoon’s body crowds the small space, soaking the air. “i told you two idiots to stay away from her, didn’t i?!” jay rolls his eyes.

“hoon, be for real man. you really thought that would keep us away?” jake watches his younger best friend with a confused look.

“jake hasn’t got his dick wet in so long, hoon, let him have this,” jake throws a pillow towards jay, one which hits him square in the face. “i’m trying to help you, asshole!”

“hoonie, i’m sorry,” you plead, “it just happened.”

“it’s not hoonie anymore, you lost that privilege.”

your face runs cold at his words, sniffling lightly under his intense gaze, “h–hoon, i’m really sorry–”

“yeah? you’re sorry? you’re fucking sorry?” he mocks, squishing your face with one of his veiny hands, “you’re not fucking sorry, you’re just sorry you got caught. but i’ll make you sorry. show you who you really belong to.”

you whimper, heat rushing to your core, nearly dripping out of your bottoms. “lucky for you, i’m a good step brother, so i’ll let you have your fun with jay and jake, princess. just not behind my damn back, and certainly not without me,” he releases his grip on your face. jay glances at hoon, confusion lacing his features. “what are you waiting for, jongseong? i’m giving you permission, just this once.”

“yeah? and what if she doesn’t want it just once, hoonie?”

sunghoon cracks one of his knuckles absentmindedly, his eyes narrowing in annoyance as he hovers above you. “well too fucking bad, that’s not her decision to make.”

jay chuckles darkly as he rises and approaches you, his figure towering over you as he stands next to hoon. “you want us to make you feel good, baby?” he holds your cheek with one of his large hands and you unconsciously lean into his touch, nodding as you look up at him. “daddy will give you whatever you want, angel.”

you moan at the name and glance at sunghoon for guidance, finding him already watching you with a trained gaze. he gives you the smallest nod of permission, the sight of his possessiveness sending wetness dripping into the fabric covering your core. your brain is torn between focusing on the two men in front of you, their presence completely overwhelming you with how close their bodies are pressed to you, not knowing whether to watch jay or sunghoon.

“you want jake to finish eating you out, pretty?” jay strokes his thumb over your chin as he watches your face change, heating up a bit.

“yes.”

“yes what?”

“yes, daddy,” jay groans, “that’s right, good girl.” he lets go of your face as he comes to sit behind you, spreading his legs out so you can sit flush to his back. the hardness of his dick presses into your back and you groan, glancing back at him with lust clouding your gaze.

jake settles himself between your legs, his touch gentle as he finally unties the flimsy material clothing your pussy, tugging on the ties until you reveal yourself to him. jake bites on the plush of your inside thigh, “fuuuuck, look at this pussy.” jake interrupts his own groan by diving in, resuming his movements from merely moments earlier. he grips your thigh tightly with one hand, the other joining his tongue inside your wet heat with two fingers now. he scissors inside, searching for the spot inside you that no doubt makes your eyes roll back.

sunghoon watches your face, gripping your chin between his thumb and forefinger, bringing your eyes to focus on him. “only look at me, slut.” you feel your eyes tearing up a little at his harsh words. “aw, my baby’s gonna cry because i called her a slut? couldn’t even be patient for your brother, had to go fuck my friends because you couldn’t get me to fuck you quick enough, could you? dumb whore.”

you can feel the thoughts slipping from your mind as sunghoon stares deep into your eyes, your own bubbling with tears as he degrades you, the words filling your mind with a mix of shame and desperation. desperation to feel his hands on you, hurting you in the most delicious way then soothing the emotional welts with kisses and a cock kissing your cervix.

jay reaches around your body, palming your tits in his hands, fondling them gently outside of your top. “i’ll fuck you nice and deep, princess, don’t worry.” jay whispers as he trails kisses down your jaw, interspersing harsh sucks in with his actions, hoping to leave a mark.

you feel almost brainless as he touches you, and jake continues working your pussy with his mouth, “mmh– daddy,” you groan as jay pinches one of your nipples through the fabric. you reach behind you, swiftly untying your bikini top and yanking it off your body. “needy girl,” jay presses a kiss behind your ear as he continues his movements, his need growing after feeling you bare beneath his hands. sunghoon takes your top from your hands, throwing it somewhere in the room before catching your lips in a searing, passionate, possessive kiss.

sunghoon, sunghoon, sunghoon is all you can think as he presses against you, hands holding your face tightly, like if he doesn’t you’ll slip from his grasp.

jake’s nose brushes against your clit as he dips back into your heat with a particularly strong lick, fingers reaching deep and finally prodding against your sweet spot. “eugh!–” you moan against sunghoon’s mouth, gasping lightly as jake repeats the same motion. jake grins against your pussy at your reaction, noticing the way your legs are beginning to tremble as the thigh he’s not holding tries to close in on his head. sunghoon pulls away, keeping his face close to yours, his shallow breaths ghosting over your lips. “my naughty little sister, look at you.”

“sweet girl is close, jakey,” jay bites at your neck, “come on, pup, work your magic.” jake’s ears burn at the nickname tumbling from jay’s lips, his cock stirring as he continues his ministrations on your sopping wet core. “you gonna cum for me?” jake speaks into your pussy, the vibrations enhancing your pleasure and you nod fervently, “yes, jake!”

sunghoon’s hand digs into jake’s hair and yanks him off of your clit, causing you to nearly scram from the loss of contact, “h-hoonie please!”

“naughty girls don’t get to cum, do they jay?” sunghoon watches jay with a small smirk adorning his plump lips, watching jay’s nose twitch slightly. “i think she deserves it, making jakey feel so good down there.”

sunghoon glances down at jake, who he now notices is panting loudly, fighting to dive back in to lick further at your core. “he’s close, too, hoon, don’t blue ball our friend.” jake whimpers the longer sunghoon holds him by his hair, far away from any skin that he can suck and bite.

“fine,” sunghoon relents, glancing up at jay, “but no more requests from you, daddy,” he says the nickname with a mocking tone, watching his best friend continue to fondle your breasts lightly. you gasp at jake’s return to your core, the man between your legs quickly slides two fingers in beside his tongue. “and you keep your eyes on me when you cum.” you nod quickly, babbling a small, “yes, hoonie,” breathlessly.

jake prods against that special spot in your gummy walls repeatedly, licking deep inside next to his two fingers. his nose rubbing incessantly against your clit paired with jay biting your skin and gripping your breasts has you tumbling to the edge. jay aids you, pinching harshly against one of your nipples as he whispers, “go ahead, babygirl, let go.”

your eyes dart to sunghoon, who’s already staring at you with need swimming in his irises. you hold his gaze as you cum with a loud moan, body going limp as the pair continue their motions, working you through your orgasm. your vision is blurry and limbs fuzzy as you come down from your high, body bathed in heat as you still feel three pairs of hands all over you. you whine as you come back into your mind, trying to push jake away.

sunghoon groans lowly at the sight of you cumming under his best friends, trying to keep his composure, vowing to himself to make you cum harder.

jake sits up, a cocky grin on his lips as he collects the cum from his face with his fingers and shoves them into jay’s mouth. you lean back, watching as jay sucks it all off of jake’s fingers. you blush, body feeling hot knowing he’s eagerly sucking your essence off the other man’s gorgeous fingers. jay pulls off with a pop, his attention turning back to you.

“you gonna let us fuck you, baby?” you glance up at your stepbrother for permission. sunghoon brings his hands to grip onto your hips, rubbing his thumbs on your skin, each movement spreading fire across your body as he burns you with his gentle yet possessive touch. “is that what you want?” you nod, looking up at sunghoon with wide eyes, “want all three of you,” you tell him with a pout. sunghoon groans lowly, masking it by kissing your lips chastely.

“my baby,” he whispers with a smile, one that hides his need to take you right here in front of both of his friends. sunghoon decides to let you have your fun, knowing this will be the last time you fuck anyone besides him for the rest of your life. “just this once, okay?” you nod with a smile that matches his own, hiding your need to be claimed by your step brother deep within your expression, “yes, sir.”

a moan escapes his throat, “fuck, don’t call me that right now or i’ll kick these two idiots out and take you all for myself.”

“later?” he nods in response before stepping back, watching with a trained gaze as you interact with his best friends. you reach out to play with the hem of jake’s swim shorts, “go ahead,” jay smiles, always wanting to please you. you see hoon nod at you from the corner of your eye, so you take it as permission to continue.

you pull jake’s shorts down slowly, gasping as his cock springs up, hard and veiny, his mushroom tip blushing as you take in the sight of him, so so long with a decent girth.

“you too, jay,” you pull yourself from his lap, crawling to the center of the bed. you watch jay tug his own shorts down, tossing them somewhere across the room. jay’s thickness alone makes your eyes go wide, knowing he’s going to absolutely stretch you out with how wide he is. his length is nothing to scoff at either, especially not knowing he’ll be rearranging your guts shortly enough.

jake glances over at sunghoon for a moment, “can i fuck her in the ass, hoon?”

sunghoon doesn’t reply, glancing at jay for a moment with a quirked eyebrow. jay pushes jake onto the bed, forcing his best friend to settle against the pillows. “no, i’m fucking her ass.” jay tells him, lifting you like you weigh nothing, groaning as you take in the sight of his bulging biceps. “mmh– you’re so strong…” you drool as you watch jake stroke himself a few times to ensure he’s fully hard for you.

jay lifts you and jake holds his dick, the two working in tandem to slide you onto jake’s length, the action making you wonder just for a moment if they’ve done this before. his tip sits against your hole for a moment, pulling a whimper from your lips and returning your mind to the present moment, before he’s breaching your wet heat, the stretch delicious as you sink lower and lower until you feel his pelvis pressed against your own.

sunghoon takes his shorts off before kneeling next to the three of you, the sight of him being even bigger than both of his friends has you drooling and leaking around jake’s cock.

“fuck–” you moan, body feeling limp, his strong hands on your hips being the only thing to hold you upright. jake loses all restraint after feeling himself bottoming out inside of you, his insistent thrusts making you fall into his chest. “fuck, baby,” jake groans, eyes rolling back at the feeling of your tight hole wrapped around his aching dick. “pussy’s heaven.”

jay moves while you’re still distracted, tip poking against your tightened rim. your eyes go wide, glancing back at him. “it’s okay, baby, it’ll feel good, don’t worry, princess,” he presses a kiss to your lower back to soothe you. jay holds your ass cheeks apart so he can watch the slide. he spits down on your fluttering hole so he can slip in easier, pressing just the tip inside as you’re rocked against jake’s length. “ah!–” you scream at the intrusion, his cock nearly splitting you open as jay stills for just a moment. he rubs your cheeks with his thumb, nearly cumming right there from feeling how tight you’re wrapped around his cock. “jay, ‘s too big,” you mumble.

“you can take it, angel girl,” he tells you, his weeping dick being further enveloped in your impossibly tight hole as you whimper and squirm beneath him.

sunghoon interrupts any further ramblings about any of them being too big by bringing your face down to his length and tapping your cheek with his cock. he smacks your cheek again before resting it against your lips for a moment. you eagerly open up, taking him in. sunghoon groans at the feeling of your warm, wet mouth sucking him in so easily. he fists your hair in his hand, beginning to manipulate your mouth up and down his cock, knowing you’re probably already too fucked out to be able to bob up and down on your own accord.

“there you go,” jay whispers once he’s fully inside. you feel double stuffed, no, triple stuffed. the sensation is completely new to you as you cry out with nonsensical pants and moans, gripping onto sunghoon’s thick thighs.

you feel their cocks inside you moving in tandem, jay more controlled and pointed as jake nearly crumbles inside of you, all control slipping out of him the moment he breached your warm heat. sunghoon is controlled with his thrusts in and out of your mouth, holding strong in his resolve despite how fucking warm and tight your mouth feels wrapped around him. the push and pull is delicious, your body being tugged this way and that, sandwiched between the three men deliciously.

jake can feel jay’s thick cock through the thin wall that separates them, “fuck, you should feel this pussy, jay,” jake moans, “bet she could fit us both.”

“mm, our good princess could fit both of us in her tiny hole, couldn’t she?” jay teases, the words nearly making you drip down jake’s length. you can feel jake’s thrusts becoming even sloppier, and jay is speeding up behind you. sunghoon has switched from using your hair to move you against his length to thrusting up into your mouth instead, reaching deeper than before, his cockhead fucking against the back of your throat deliciously. jay reaches around, thumbing at your hardened nub with practiced expertise, biting into your shoulder.

you hear sunghoon’s voice from above you, dark and biting with his words, “don’t you dare fucking cum inside, jake.”

“fuck, i–i’m close,” jake groans, his thrusts never ceasing. you can sense it in the air, both men that are pressed so deep inside of you are nearing their ends, with sunghoon not far behind. jake becomes sloppier, panting loudly in need as jay keeps pressing himself deeper, forcing his cock to stretch your hole further with his girth in every move.

“jay,” jake groans and jay tugs you off jake’s dick before you feel liquid hitting your stomach. jake paints your abdomen with cum, watching in awe as it slides down your soft skin slowly. jay plants kisses all over your shoulderblade, “fuck, you fit so tight around me, baby, gonna cum inside this tight little asshole of yours.”

jay’s thrusts pull you away from sunghoon’s cock. your step brother moves instead to begin fondling your tits with practiced intention, his grip sending shockwaves through your system, “fuck, daddy–” jay cums deep inside, pressing his hips flush against your as you milk his cock.

jay pants, glancing up at sunghoon, who is watching him expectantly. jay pulls out slowly, watching the cum drip from your hole with a deep groan. “fuck, look at that.”

“alright, move out of the way.” sunghoon commands to the duo after only a beat, still massaging your breasts and tweaking your nipples, “i don’t care where you go, you can watch for all i care, just get the fuck off my bed.”

jake, tumbles off the bed onto the floor, utterly spent and too tired to even stand. jay takes a seat at the desk, watching with a lust filled gaze.

“gonna fuck you the way you deserve, baby. you’ll never want another man to even look at you once i slip inside…” you open your eyes again to see sunghoon sitting before you. his dick sits hard right in front of your eyes. now, no longer distracted by the two other men that were once surrounding you, the sight stirs heat inside your stomach, his girth and length surpassing both of his friends that just destroyed you from the inside out.

“fuck, hoonie–” you stare up at him, tongue nearly lolling out of your mouth at the sight of his length.

“my sweet angel girl,” sunghoon coos at you, a different, new emotion taking over his previous jealousy and possessiveness, “waited so long for this pussy, can’t believe you made your brother wait for you.” he wraps your legs around his waist, holding them there as he presses his tip against your fluttering hole. you groan at the sensation, trying to wiggle your hips to entice him to slip inside. he tightens his grip on the underside of your knees, a warning for your disobedience.

your eyes roll back as he pulls away before yelping as he smacks your clit with his bulbous tip. you glance down at his cock sitting near where you oh so desperately need him, the veins matching the ones on his hands that make you groan.

you’d gotten that part right with your attempted sunghoon replica dildo.

“hoonie,” you whimper, “‘m sorry…”

“i know, baby,” sunghoon captures your lips in a gentle kiss, “but now that i have you, you better not even think about leaving.” he punctuates his words by pressing his tip inside, almost cumming on the spot at the feeling of finally having you enveloping his dick in your perfect little hole. “fuck, pussy’s so perfect and i only have the tip in.” you’re nearly able to cum again just from the feeling of his mushroom head fitting snugly inside your abused hole.

“fuck, hoonie,” you whimper, grasping at his large biceps for stability as he slides in achingly slow, wanting to savor the feeling of every part of your walls sucking him in. “need you.”

“need you too baby.” sunghoon presses kisses on your cheeks, moving one of his hands from the underside of your knee to your lower back, angling you closer. you feel him even deeper inside you with this action and you glance down, seeing even more length left. “you have all of me now, don’t even worry angel. hoonie will take care of you.”

“mmh– sir you’re so big,” you whimper as sunghoon finally bottoms out inside of you.

“yeah? my baby’s dildos she got as a stand in for me aren’t as big as the real thing, are they?” sunghoon taunts, a wave of embarrassment flooding over you. you shake your head, “they aren’t–”

your sentence is halted by sunghoon pulling all the way out, just the tip still sitting inside your warm walls, before shoving back in, his tip bruising your cervix with a single thrust.

“i know my baby, you just wanted your big brother so bad that you had to get one you thought was the same size, didn’t you?”

you shake your head, “n-no!”

“don’t lie, princess,” sunghoon continues pulling all the way out to the tip before sliding back inside with a quick movement, the action yanking gasps and moans from your throat. “it’s okay, angel. but i need you to throw all of those away now, okay?”

you nod fervently, wanting so deeply to please sunghoon, wanting his big cock to stretch you open like you’ve fantasized about for months now, never before having the courage to do more than a little light teasing with him.

“h-hoonie,” you whine, staring up at him with wide eyes and blown out pupils, the sight of you staring up at him with want and need and lust swimming in your gaze making him nearly bust on the spot. “i know, pretty, hoonie’s got you,” sunghoon shoves himself back in your heat, stilling for a moment before moving his hand that’s holding your leg to your abdomen, pressing against your lower stomach. “look at that, angel.” you feel a bit of drool dribble out of your mouth at the sight of him pressed so deep inside, a bulge easily visible. “pretty little girl was made for her step brother’s cock, wasn’t she?”

you groan as he somehow pushes even deeper into you, “h-hoon!” you scream, panting as he takes one of your hands and slides it to meet the delicate skin of your tummy, feeling him prodding inside your hole so deep that you feel him on the outside, too. “mm, that’s my good girl, taking everything i give you.” sunghoon begins thrusting again, the harsh movements shoving you up and down along the bed as the headboard slams against the wall with each yank of his cock in your tight hole.

sunghoon slides his hand down from his tip protruding through down to your clit, rubbing in a skilled pattern along your hardened nub. “mmf– fuck!”

“that’s it baby, gonna milk this cock, aren’t you?” you’re unable to answer, clamping tightly around him, making sunghoon’s balls feel ready to burst. “hoonie! i-i’m cumming–” you cry, staring up at him with teary eyes. the sensations overwhelm you as he pounds deep into you, rubbing your clit with rough fingers, hoping to chase your impending orgasm. the rubber band in your tummy snaps and you cum with a loud moan and a choked sob, clutching onto sunghoon’s biceps to keep yourself stable.

“fuck, baby, so fucking tight,” sunghoon’s eyes are clamped shut, head leaned back as he chases his own release as you encase his cock in a vice grip. “gonna cum so deep inside you, baby, and you’re gonna take it all, my good girl.” one particularly sharp thrust pulls a loud moan from his throat as he stills, pressing his pelvis flush with yours. cum paints your fluttering walls with long spurts, seemingly never ending.

sunghoon doesn’t move, keeping himself pressed as deep inside as possible. your head returns from the clouds slowly, smiling at the feeling of being absolutely stuffed.

“mm, hoonie–” you smile softly, leaning to hide your face against his arm.

“my good girl,” he cups your face with one hand, tracing your cheek with his thumb gently. “alright tweedledee and tweedledum, get the fuck out.” sunghoon glances at jay and jake, who both have fresh spurts of cum painted across their abdomens.

you look at them both, giggling lightly, “first and last time someone’s looking at you like that,” he tells you with conviction, his voice low, before capturing your lips in a gentle, slow kiss.

“you’ve always been a weird one, hoon,” jay teases, cleaning himself with tissues before throwing the box to jake. “and that’s saying a lot, because we know jakey boy here.”

“fuck off, jay,” jake snides, “you like it when i put my fingers in your mouth.”

sunghoon raises an eyebrow at his best friends, “you two are strange…” he chuckles, still nestled deep in your warm pussy. “can’t believe i actually allowed you to fuck my girl.” he makes a disgusted face before glancing between the pair with a steely gaze. the phrase ‘my girl’ makes your pulse quicken and your face feel hot. “this was one time, you understand me? had to show you fuckers how it’s done, you didn’t even make her cum again after you both got your dicks wet. if you even so much as breathe in her direction after this, i’ll chop your fucking dicks off.”

sunghoon smirks lowly as he feels you grow wet again at his possessiveness, still fucked out beneath him but almost fully coherent. the way he clings tightly to you even after cumming inside you makes your heart flutter against your ribcage.

“jesus christ, okay!” jay raises his hand in a surrendering motion, rising to his feet. he leads jake to the door, shoving him out in front of him. “i don’t like when he puts his fingers in my mouth, by the way.” jay says, watching hoon.

“sure you don’t, jay.” sunghoon winks at him, cock beginning to grow once more from the warm heat he’s still wrapped in, “close the door.” jay shuffles out, shutting the door behind him. 

sunghoon returns his attention to you, a gentle smile gracing his plump lips, showing you a glance of his pretty fangs. “hi, pretty girl.”

“hi, hoonie,” you giggle, watching him with adoration in your gaze.

“you kept me waiting all that time, what a tease you are, baby.” sunghoon shakes his head lightly, beginning to thrust again, fucking the cum mixture back into your hole.

“i–i was scared,” you admit through gentle thrusts, little ah ah ah’s and grunts and whimpers dotted between your words, “didn’t know if you liked me back, hoonie…”

sunghoon groans lowly at your admission, his heart hurting a bit at your words as he stuffs himself deep inside with slower, harsher thrusts, “why wouldn’t i like you back, baby? you’re absolutely perfect.”

“i didn’t know if it was in the same way as me,” you tell him, wide eyes watching his face.

“it is, baby,” sunghoon kisses you, slow and gentle. you feel every single vein adorning his length as he rocks in and out of you pointedly, “i like you so so much, need you to be my girl.”

“are you really gonna cut their dicks off?”

you moan as his thrusts increase in speed and become rougher, “had to show them who you belong to, since they had no fucking problem touching what’s mine behind my back.”

“mm– i’m all yours, hoonie,” you cry out as he tweaks one of your nipples, the other hand running up and down the length of your body as if he’s trying to memorize every curve.

“yeah?” the words make his cock twitch, “gonna cum inside you again, baby, so deep that i knock you up, my beautiful little sister.”

you moan loudly, so close to the edge already from his pointed thrusts and calculated finger on your nub, “yesyesyes! please hoonie fill me up again, need to feel your cum inside me again! need it so bad–” you beg with your wide eyes, babbling endlessly because you’re oh so close, and he’s already fucked you out of your brain, “please fill me up, sir, please please please!” your hands splay over his back, a particularly harsh thrust making you dig your nails into his perfect skin instinctively, not wanting him to pull away.

“fuck, baby,” he groans, “give me another one, you can do it,” his voice is commanding this time, pulling you the edge and propelling you over, cum rushing out of you. the tightness of your heat around his dick and the pain of the nails raking along his back has sunghoon shoving in deep and cumming once more, pushing it as deep as it can possibly go in your wet pussy.

sunghoon crumbles, falling gently atop your still shaking body. you relish at the feeling of his sticky, sweaty chest laying atop your own. peace washes over you, knowing the push and pull you and your step brother have been engaging in for months is finally over.

“fuck, i love you,” sunghoon presses kisses across the expanse of your face. “i’ve waited so long and you’re finally mine.”

“yours?” your gentle voice is music to sunghoon’s ears.

sunghoon presses a kiss into the junction of your neck and shoulder, sucking a bruise, “yes, mine.” he says with finality, and the way your eyes go wide at his words makes him think you must love him, too.

“mine forever, baby.”

[misctf]

Christmas Curse

Hey everyone! Happy Holidays. If you have any holiday-themed asks, I will try to prioritize those. Hope you enjoy this story!

“Yeah, yeah Stacy, I know.” Matt grumbles, “You’ll be here soon. Got it.” He rolls his eyes, “ Jesus Stacy, I got the kids their presents. I know how to be a dad.” He hangs up, “Fuckin’ bitch.” He mumbles.

Matt yawns and starts preparing his morning coffee. He was going to need it. While he didn’t really mind having his kids over, he did hate having to see his ex-wife. Always nagging him, even after they signed the papers. It was that nagging that drove him to cheat on her with one of his clients at the gym. At least that’s how he justified it. A small frown formed on his lips as he sips his coffee.

“First Christmas since the divorce.” He mumbles, looking around his empty apartment, “Damn.” A part of him starts to feel guilty- his kids deserved better. No decorations, no tree, not even a single light, “Fuck. I won’t hear the end of this.” His thoughts return to his ex-wife.

He quickly walks to his closet where he had a few things that he got from the house after the divorce. He sighs as he realizes most of the decorations he took were broken- likely due to how unceremoniously he treated them during the move.

“Oh god.” He grimaces as he pulls out their Elf on the Shelf, “Terrifying little fucker.” He chuckles, “Yeah, you got me good, Stacy.”

It was the one decoration Stacy insisted he take in the divorce. Likely because of how much it creeped him out. Just another petty move on her part, he figured. Yet part of him can’t help but smile. His kids loved the thing.

“I guess this’ll do.” He quickly walks back to the kitchen and places it lamely on a chair.

He walks over to grab his coffee and upon turning around, he raises an eyebrow. The damn thing was on the ground. Matt walks over and quickly places it back on the chair, making sure there was no way it could fall.

“Creepy fucker.” He mumbles, turning around again.

Thump

“Really?” Matt turns back to find it on the ground again, “Seriously, what the hell?” He picks it up and looks at it closely, “Stay put.” He realizes he sounds insane- talking to an inanimate object.

“Make me.” Matt’s eyes widen as he realizes the decoration just talked to him. Its eyes blinking. Its giggles echoing in his ears.

“Gah what the fuck!?”

Matt cries out as it bites down firmly on his thumb and he throws it across the room. He stares at the small teeth marks on his thumb and watches as the little demon scurries away, its giggling filling his apartment. Matt’s breath became heavier as he stumbled to the kitchen sink and started cleaning out his cut. His thoughts were racing and he was feeling dizzy.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck...” He’s mumbling to himself, and he shakily grabs his cup of coffee.

But when the bitter liquid touches his tongue he gags and drops the mug. Its disgusting. Bitter, sour, and he spits out as much as he can. He quickly rushes to his fridge, looking for anything that might get that disgusting taste out of his mouth. But none of his protein shakes look appealing, nor does almond milk or his protein smoothies. Matt doesn’t know what compels him, but he grabs the chocolate milk he got his kids last time they visited. Without much thought, he begins to guzzle it, downing the carton in a matter of seconds.

“So good...” He giggles, wiping his mouth.

His eyes widen at the realization of what he just did. He just ruined his macros for the day without even thinking about it. At least the taste from the coffee was gone. Matt shakes his head- realizing he has bigger things to worry about. He needed to find that elf. As his thoughts return to his predicament, he can hear a giggle coming from the bedroom.

“Fudger...” Matt mumbles, “Fudger? No I meant fudger! What the fudge?” He shakes his head, trying to curse, “Sugar plums... I need to find that thINg.”

Frustrated at his inability to curse, and the strange cracking of his voice, Matt rushes to his room. Desperate to find the monster and give it back to Stacy. Of course she gave him a cursed doll. And as he storms down the hallway, he absentmindedly scratches at his beard. The hairs falling away, leaving his cheeks smooth and hairless. Unbeknownst to him, they take on a rosier complexion, filling out slightly and becoming rounder.

“ThERe you ARe.” Matt’s voice cracks as he notices the decoration sitting atop his tall dresser, “Come here.”

Matt approaches his dresser and reaches to grab it but finds his arms no longer reach the top of it. The elf grins and teases Matt, reaching out to Matt, who is unable to grab it. Just missing ever so slightly. The personal trainer is growing frustrated, now standing on his tippee toes as he desperately swats at the elf.

“Why can’t I reach it?” Matt thinks. At 6’3” he never had an issue reaching the top of the dresser.

And as he lifts his arms above his hand, he catches a whiff from his exposed pits. But it’s not his musk that invades his nostrils. No, it’s sweet. Like gingerbread and holly. He lowers his arms, not even registering that his pit hair has vanished.

“What’s happening to me?” He whispers, his voice softer. The masculine edge diminished. He looks up at the elf, who is smiling at him, “What did you do to me?”

Matt turns and looks over at his full body mirror. A high-pitched gasp leaves his mouth as he catches a glimpse of himself. He’s short... at least 5’4”. And his muscles look softer. He saunters over to the mirror, feeling his smooth face, rubbing a hand through his dissipating chest hairs. His tokens of masculinity vanishing at an alarming rate. His face cute- elfish even. Just like... just like...

“No, no, no!” Matt’s voice has settled on its higher tenor, “Stop this!” He hisses, hating how pouty his voice sounds, “Please! I...” He turns to confront the elf.

But it’s no longer on the dresser. Matt’s heart is pounding in his chest as he swings back to watch the changes continue. He grunts as his meaty pecs let out a hissing sound and deflate before his eyes. Days of chest flies and bench pressing seem to reverse themselves as his chest becomes flat, his two nipples becoming perkier and sensitive to the cool air in his apartment. He can’t help but massage his flat chest with his dainty and smooth hands. Part of him enjoying how cute he looks, another part utterly horrified at the loss of his gains.  

“Wait, please don’t... not my arms!”

In a moment of lucid thought, he realizes that his impressive tris and bis are releasing the same hissing sounds. Rapidly becoming stick-like and nonthreatening. Matt feels tears well up in his eyes. He loved to flex- to show off to his clients. He loved holding women in his muscular arms. How they would run their hands along them and his abs... His abs! He watches as they too smooth over and vanish, giving him a lean tummy. His treasure trail, another symbol of his masculinity has similarly vanished. The hairs falling to the ground, leaving Matt smooth.

“Oh god...” Matt feels for his Adam’s apple and frowns, “Even my voice...” He stumbles backwards and slides down the wall, “Oh!” He moans as his inflated ass cushions him, “Wh-what...?” He moans as he feels his larger ass. His hands filling with the flesh of his larger, jiggling mounds, “Ohhhhh...”

He gives them a squeeze, part of him embarrassed at how sensitive they are. At how each squeeze causes his dick to harden with pleasure. And as he moans again, he can’t help but realize that the bulge in his pants becomes less prominent. While part of him screams to stop, the pleasure he’s getting from just squeezing his ass overpowers any remaining willpower he might have. When he finally does pull his hands away from his ass and looks down his pants, his heart sinks. His dick has settled on 2 inches hard. Far from the thick meat women would beg for. And while part of him wanted to cry, to beg to return to his masculine form, another part urged him to give his ass another squeeze. And he did. Again and again and again...

It was a few hours later when he heard a knock at his door. Matt was lying face down, ass in the air, his dainty hands massaging his thicc ass. He slowly pushes himself up and giggles. His rosy cheeks rounding out more as a smile forms on his cute face. He quickly walks over to the closet where he rummages through tank-tops and hoodies.

“So ugly and boring...” Matt thinks as he hums a Christmas tune to himself.

And then he finds it. He never really remembered buying it, but the red footie pajamas, white fluffy mittens, and Santa hat are absolutely perfect. He quickly puts them on and walks over to the mirror.

“Ohhh I look so good!” He giggles, lifting his leg and doing a twirl.

Part of him registers that he looks exactly like the elf. A near perfect, human replica. And while he feels deep down this is wrong, that he isn’t some elf-like, twink with a big ass, he can’t imagine being anything else.

“No please! Let me out!” Matt’s giggling stops as he listens closely to the voice in his head. And when he stares in the mirror, he sees who he used to be. A desperate fear in the man’s eyes, “Please! I’m not...”

“Shhhhh!” Giggling fills the air, “We have a lot to do!”

Matt leaves the mirror, the sound of sobbing echoing deep within his brain. But Matt can’t be bothered right now. He quickly swings open the door and grins when he sees Stacy.

“Stacy!” He sings, “Merry Christmas Eve!”

Stacy grins, “Seems like you found my gift.” She says, “I just came by to pick up the presents for the kids. I think they should stay with me this Christmas.”

Matt frowns, “Alright... It’s not like I’m ready for Christmas anyway.” He pouts, crossing his arms.

Matt watches as Stacy leaves with the few presents he got for his kids. Internally, Matt is begging to be freed. This isn’t what he wanted. This wasn’t... His thoughts slow as he feels hands grip his massive ass. The two Matts moaning in unison. Their minds melding in the midst of their shared pleasure. And internally, Matt realizes it’s too late. As the new Matt opens up Grindr to find a hairy daddy to fuck his brains out, Matt realizes by the time Christmas morning comes around, he and this new Matt will be one.

As he dreads his future, he can hear a giggle coming from down the hall. One last mocking laugh from the elf on the shelf.

[hahaifolded]

141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Debrief 1 Author's Notes: Does this make sense? I don't know. I'm just started to type and this happened. Warnings: MDNI, Angst

Like usual, the 141 had gotten together for dinner. But tonight was different as tonight you decided to grace them with your presence. 

But instead of sitting in your normal seat with the 141, you were sitting with the new guys. They couldn’t help but stare. Here you are in all your glory but not for them.

“Why are they with them?” asks Ghost as he shoves his fork in his mouth. Gaz and Price shrug as they couldn’t understand why you chose the new guys over them. The three immediately voice their confusion while Soap just remains silence. His silence rang immediate alarms in the other three as John MacTavish is never quiet. 

“Talk,” Price commands. Ghost and Gaz shift their attention to the Scotsman. Johnny drops his fork and begins to talk and talk and talk. He explains to the three what had happened. As he talks, he keeps his gaze on you and Russ. Why couldn’t that be him and you? Heck, at this point, he’ll share you if he has too. 

“And I’ll be honest, I don’t know what Russ did exactly but whatever he did, it got them to eat dinner with him and those fuckers.” And with that, Soap turns back to the three. Ghost and Price just stare at him, lost in thought, while Gaz sits back with his arms crossed. 

“He listened,” Gaz states like it was matter of fact. The three look on confused. With an exasperated breath, Gaz sits straights up and explains it to the three. 

“People like them and I can’t just live. We have to go above and beyond and be perfect just so we can even get an ounce of respect that you guys get. If we don’t, we are immediately labeled as an issue” Johnny tries to interrupt him but Gaz quickly shuts him down. “Look at their resume. Top of their class, scored exceptionally high on all of their exams, trained by Laswell herself for fucks sake and how many offers did they get after the academy?” Kyle takes a pause to look at the three. 

“None,” grunts out Price. 

“And what did it say on their file? What was the supposed reason why so many teams didn’t want them?” continues Kyle. 

Ghost answers him. “Too aggressive. Doesn’t respect authority.” 

“And was that the case?” Kyle stares down at the three. 

Johnny lets out a choked out “no.” From the moment you got here, you were sweet. Any possible acts of defiance were just you doing your job — asking the right questions and making sure your voice was being heard. You were kind to each and every one of them even when they switched up on you. Any recent aggression (if you can even call it that) has been well-deserved as the 141 each began to take the piss out on you. 

“So instead of labeling them as a problem like everyone else, Russ here listened and realized that they’re alone and just needs a team, so,” Kyle turns back to look at you with the new guys, “he gave them one.” Kyle turns back around and returns to his food, picking at it with his fork. 

Soap stares straight at you and realizes his mistake. He labeled you as the bad guy. Fuck. They all did the minute they agreed to put the 141 over you. It wasn’t your fault that they all thought with their dicks. This wasn’t right. You deserved better. 

“So what do we do now?” whines Johnny. He notices the way you laugh with the trio— you used to laugh like that at his jokes. 

“I honestly don’t know,” mumbles out Gaz. The four sit in silence through dinner. 

As Soap finishes his last bite, he catches you and Russ getting up from y’all’s table with Russ actually grabbing your plate for you. Soap felt his eye twitch. As you two walk past the 141, lost in conversation, Johnny speaks up, hoping just a moment of your time. 

He calls out your name. You turn, confused to hear your name. When you made eye contact with Soap, your smile falls. 

“Yes, Sergeant?” you ask. You politely greet the other three. Keegan is right by your side, staring down the 141. 

“Sergeant? Who’s that? It’s your Johnny-boy,” Soap quips.

“Do you need something?” You’re clearly not impressed. 

This isn’t going how Johnny wanted at all. He smacks Price on his back and starts again. “The guys and I have some ice cream bars hidden in Price’s office. Come join us. You know, for team bonding and all that.” 

Johnny sees something flash across your eyes. Was it… joy? However, it disappears as fast as it appeared. 

“I think that’s inappropriate especially since I’m not an official member of the team and I would hate to impose,” you start. You glance at Keegan and shoot him a small smile. “Besides Kea— Sergeant Russ and I are going into town right now for dessert. So maybe another time,” you inform. You begin to turn, leaving the 141 to their ice creams when… 

“Mind a third?” Soap blurts out. You turn around, shock all over your face. You look at him mouth gaping, unsure what to say. Johnny feels his face burn as it’s apparent you do mind a third but don’t know how to say it. Damn him and his big mouth. 

Thankfully Keagan lends a helping hand. “Sorry man. I got shit in the back of my car and only got space for one person. But we’ll bring you something back.” 

And with that Keagan whisks you away from the 141 nor brings the downtrodden Scotsman something back. 

Word Count: 947

More Thoughts - Next Thought

[i-smoke-chapstick]

‘SAILOR SONG,

-THEPENGUIN!SOFIA FALCONE X READER-

⋆ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ; You run into Sofia at Berto’s funeral. You’re the only one who can calm her down.

⋆ tags/warnings. sofia falcone x female reader. ANGST AND COMFORT!! Might make this a series if anyone likes it enough <3 she’s my literal BABY im so in love with her it makes me want to kms! she deserves SO much better i just wanna give her a hug (and a kiss). slight homophobia mentions, past relationships (but unclear), THE HANGMAN!!!!! Based on 1x2, bertos funeral ! she is my girlfailure wife and i need her

♫ “Begging, baby, would you please? / Do the things you said you'd do to me. / And when we're getting dirty, I forget all that is wrong / I sleep so I can see you 'cause I hate to wait so long.” Sailor Song by Gigi Perez

High tides. That’s what Gotham is, after the haunted return of the Batman. At least, that’s all you see around you now. Theres blood in the water, and the sharks have all come to hunt.

You think it’s all bullshit. The bat, the Riddler, this fucking funeral. You hardly knew the man, and you know it’s a waste of time. Everyone dressed in black here is only cutting their losses. It’s all out of fear. Berto was unabashedly himself. And that was weak. He tried too hard to be his father.

You scan the funeral, which might as well be a party for some of these fuckers, and hold your breath. Okay, maybe you’re more upset than you’d like to admit. Nihilism appeases the soul where optimism does not. You’d only had very few conversations with him, but he was…nice, to some extent.

It’s a day of mourning. And that’s what you do. Memories come to you in unsafe and ungrateful waves, alerting you of every interaction you’d ever had with the man of the night.

“Hey, so,” He scratched the side of his head with his index finger. “Wha- What’s up with you and my sister?” A bitter smile on his face, nose scrunched in faux curiosity. You’d known better. You grew up your entire life in Gotham, and you had known a thinly veiled threat when you’d heard it.

“Sofia?” You’d asked, lighting a cigarette. The sunset flooded through Italy’s streets. It wasn’t your first summer here. You took a long drag of smoke, thinking of how to phrase your answer. The Falcones weren’t stupid, none of them were, not really. “Nothing.” You settled on, dabbling it out in the ash tray. “Why?”

You’d expected some bullshit to fly from his mouth. The family…That you were an outsider. That whatever the two of you had going on was distasteful. A woman and a woman. Not a good look in the papers. Weak willed woman frolicking together in Gotham’s underground. You expected him to insult you, and her. What would their father think?

But Alberto didn’t say anything like that.

“If you hurt her,” He began, and you felt yourself visibly recoil. “I’ll have to, you know,” He motioned with his hands, forming a gun with his forefinger against his temple, and a pew sound. “Pop your top.”

Returning to yourself, you find it in yourself to be greatful. For Alberto, not ratting the two of you out. Whatever you two had…was more than the both of you ever managed to let on. Small touches here and there, kisses when you played house. Laughing underneath streetlamps, painting her nails. And then she got locked up in Arkham. Your best…friend.

And now she’s finally released. Idiots with poster boards outside begging for her return to the loony bin. She’s somewhere in this house, on the same floor as you.

You mindlessly sip on your glass. Alchohol is your real friend tonight. The undergrounds in shambles, the entire city is. What’s stopping you from leaving? You don’t know. Not until you see her.

She trails in the room, and the first thing you hear are overwhelming whispers. You don’t pay attention to them, how could you? Her hair tied up messily, sticky bangs and beads of sweat on her forehead. Her makeup is neat, but just barely smudged.

She’s bug eyed as she enters, chest heaving in…anger? fear? She pays much more attention to the whispers than you do, you realize.

“She’s crazy,” You hear from behind you. Faces hide behind there glasses and hands, leaning down and gossiping amongst themselves. It makes you sick. She makes you sick. Even more so, as she seems to lose herself. It starts with a small bite, digging at the finger food, before she picks up heaps of it in her palms. Over and over and over again…

“That’s enough,” You whisper, sternly, grabbing her forearm. Her mouth almost drops open with the food, eyes widening even more. She stops chewing, and for a moment, it seems everything and everyone is finally scilenced.

She doesn’t say a word in her shock, her arm falling down. She lets you guide her out the room, and the both of you ignore the comments from passerbys.

When you finally reach an empty room, you close the door. Her blood runs cold, and she’s perpelled to the edge of the room, like a cornered and vulnerable prey animal.

“What are you doing here?” Sofia drawls, clearing her throat. Her cheeks are tinged pink from embarassment, and her nose twitches in frustration.

“I knew him too.”

“No, you didn’t.” She remarks, firm in her stance. Her jaw is clenched tight, and you sigh. You make your way over to a couch, sitting down lazily. It doesn’t feel how it used to.

“Yeah, I didn’t. But I got an invitation.”

She ignores you. Straight to the point.

“You’ve heard. What they are saying about me, out there.”

“Hard not too.”

She scoffs, letting out a hmph noise. She turns away from you, blinking.

“Well. Do you believe it?” She tests, arms crossed. You feel your eyebrows scrunch, and you give her a once over. You want to scream at her, that she isn’t crazy. That whatever she’s done isn’t her fault, not completely. But you can’t claw the words out- not after not seeing her in years.

“You do, don’t you?” She continues. She stops pacing the room to take a seat parallel to you. You bite your tongue.

A beat of silence, and something in her dark eyes takes it as your final answer. Theres something deeper, darker swirling in them you can’t quite place. She’s not the same girl you knew as a child.

“No,” You whisper, finally, and watch her perk up. “You’re not crazy.”

She stays silent as she looks at you disbelievingly. Like you’re saying it simply to appease her. You find it in yourself to let the tension melt away, leaning back into the cushions.

“You don’t need help.” You affirm, and her expression is unreadable. “You aren’t broken. Or whatever those fuckhead doctors told you in Arkham. You’re just…” You trail off, needing to word this right. “You’re just your fathers daughter.”

You expect her to ask ‘what thats supposed to mean?’ but she doesn’t. No…she looks too vulnerable in this light to fight back against you. Again, silence sounds, and you wonder if you’ve made a mistake.

It’s only when she speaks, voice trembling, do you see her resolve break.

“Why didn’t you visit me?” It’s quiet, almost a whimper, and her voice breaks. “In Arkham?”

There it is. The question you’d been dreading, mostly because you didn’t know the answer yourself.

Her eyebrows are pulled together, nails clenched into her own skin. You go to tear them from her palms, opening them up to find the marks. She doesn’t say a word. She makes no move to push you away. She’s too tired. She’s greiving, her father, her mother, her brother, her sanity.

You lean down, and press a gentle kiss to her nails. A strangled sound is ripped from her at the action, and you notice how her eyes turn glossy. You decide to ignore the question for now, watching tears finally slip from her eyes. She’d been holding them in for what felt like forever. But not with you, she finds, she could never hide anything from you.

You pull her in, embracing her for all its worth. She immeadiatley falls into you, open mouthed sobs against your shoulder. You hug her tight, and it feels blissful. After so long of only seeing her on TV reports and pictures, touching her, feeling her, is heavenly. Just like it used to be.

She still smells the same. Her makeup runs as she cries into your shoulder, and you gently hush her. You pet her head and hair, cradling her like she’s fragile glass about to break. She’s yours. You’re hers. You always have been.

Rocking her back in forth, you place a kiss on her forehead. When she leans into you, you place more. Soft little pecks across her skin, to her head, wrist. You kiss all her tears away as they fall. Sweet and salty, wetting your lips. You feel her try to catch her breath.

She pulls away from you, hair messy. Her lips are parted, and her pupils blown, and theres a silent promise in the air between the two of you. I’m with you. Im on your side. I am the woman who wants you to win.

Her hand trails to your cheek, and she looks at you worshipfully. Her eyes flit to your lips, as if asking, begging for just one.

You nod. You could never deny her anything. She leans in, tentiavley, before connecting your lips. Memories flash through your head. She tastes the same, acacia honey and cigarette smoke. Besides yourself, you deepen the kiss, and she responds tenfold.

Her hands thread through your hair with a gentle tug, as if there is a feral need buried underneath her skin, to possess you. Remind herself you are here, and you are hers, not an illusion. Not a nightmare. She would kill for you.

You have to almost fight her to part for air, pulling away with heavy breaths. She doesn’t let you get far, resting her forehead against yours.

For better or for worse, she has stuck her claws in you. You realize she will not let you go. Not tonight. Not tommorrow. Not ever.

Breath intermingling, her body heat radiating against yours, you can’t find it in yourself to care.

You stay like that, unanswered questions still plaguing the silence. You’ll answer them one day. For now, you choose only to lose yourselves in one another.

You regret not telling Alberto the truth before he died. She’s not nothing to you. She’s everything.

[slayfics]

Katsuki buys you flowers.

900 words

Katsuki sighed in annoyance as you scrolled through a photo album on your phone, sitting across from him at the local cafe.

"Just delete the whole thing damn it," he stated.

"I can't, I have to look at them each one last time," you protested.

The album was a collection of all the photos taken with you and your now ex-boyfriend.

Katsuki watched bitterly as you scrolled past each photo. The way you'd zoom in and gaze at the image with wistfulness in your eyes made him sick.

"Fuck this," he exclaimed and reached over the cafe table to snatch your phone out of your hand.

"Hey!" you yelled but did little to fight Katsuki for the phone back knowing you'd lose that battle.

"Don't whine. I'm doing you a favor. You don't need to look one more second at this jackass," he said deleting the whole folder of memories. "If you keep doing that, you're going to forget why you left his sorry ass in the first place."

"I don't think that's likely. Two things can be true at once Katsuki. I can enjoy all those old memories and still feel I made the right decision to leave," you argued.

"You say that now, but I know the second he shows up with flowers begging for forgiveness your ass might feel differently," Katsuki predicted.

"That would be the first," you scoffed.

"What?" Katsuki asked gazing up from your phone.

"That would be the first. He never bought me flowers." You stated

"You're fucking joking me," Katsuki said his eyebrows scrunching together.

"Nope," you confirmed.

"All those fucking years you were together, and he couldn't have been bothered to even do that?!" Katsuki rubbed the bridge of his nose, "That's it I'm deleting his number too," He said scrolling over to your contacts on your phone.

"Katsuki!" you yelled in protest.

"Don't Katsuki me! That ass wipe doesn't deserve to take up a spot in your phone." He declared. "What the hell did he even do for you?"

"We would go out to eat all the time, at nice restaurants," you answered.

"Not good enough," Katsuki stated.

"What do you mean not good enough?" You asked.

"That idiot loved fancy shit like that, but do you? How many of those dinners were because he wanted to treat you? Probably none. Those dinners were something HE wanted to go do, not you. Fucker doesn't even know you. You'd prefer a home-cooked meal where you can be comfy in your PJs and dance to whatever dumb song you're obsessed with that week in the kitchen. Don't even try to tell me I'm wrong." Katsuki explained. 

"You're right," You agreed. "But he didn't know how to cook, and my songs aren't dumb!"

Katsuki blinked at you lost for words, a sharp exhale coming from him in utter disbelief that you spent so long with this man. "That's it, get up. We're leaving," Katsuki stated standing from the table and tossing your phone back at you.

"What? But I haven't finished my matcha," you said.

"So, we will take it to go. We're gonna stop by the grocery store, I'm gonna pick up stuff to make you a real meal, and you can show me how 'not' dumb your song pick of the week is." Katsuki decided.

You struggled to gather your things to follow him out in the hurry he was in.

Exiting the cafe Katsuki was holding the door open for you in his car,. "Such a gentlemen," you teased.

"Well, someone has to show you what that looks like," he stated, shutting the door after you got in.  

Katsuki drove you both to the nearest grocery store, "Stay here," he instructed when he parked.

"Hu? No, I'll go in with you." You said unbuckling your seatbelt.

"I said stay here. I won’t be long," he said firmly.

"Alright fine," you said waving your arms up and refusing to fight with him.

Katsuki left the car and made his way into the store. You pulled out your phone to pass the time while waiting for him.

A void grew in your stomach at realizing Katsuki had indeed erased all the whole album of pictures with your ex-boyfriend. Banishing the years you spent with him into the past. Only your memory serves you now as a reminder of the time shared together.

In a desperate attempt to salvage some memories you wanted to keep, you navigated over to your recently deleted folder. Only to see that Katsuki had deleted that too.

Photos and contact numbers were deleted from your phone, it was as though your ex never even existed. Just as your eyes began to sting with the threat of tears, the driver's door flew open.

Katsuki tossed something into your lap, “here.”

You looked down to take in the sight of a fresh bouquet in your lap. The tears that threatened to fall from sadness broke through.  Although the sadness behind them had been banished. Replaced by a fresher feeling of appreciation.

“Hah? Don’t get all teary eyed on me damn it,” Katsuki complained, tossing a few grocery bags into the back.

You watched his swift movements and couldn’t help but think, maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing your ex was exiled into the past.

“I got enough to make a decent meal. You ready to go?” Katsuki asked.

“Yeah, I’m ready,” you said wiping a stray tear and smiling for the first time in a long time.

sinners: @queenpiranhadon @unofficialsapphire @maddietries @fiannee @i-heart-carlisle @derangedmango @matchat3a @bakugouswaif @reneinii @peachsukii @pastelbakugou @abadbitchblogs @b134ch-m4h-ey3z @pinkpurpledreams @that-one-fangirl69 @dreamcastgirl99 @jays-adventure3 @bythevay

[sehnsuchts-trunken]

how about dbf!jake getting jealous? maybe over a younger guy? (who maybe even thinks he's her dad???)

OHMYGOD YES

top gun masterlist | top gun blurbs

Jake can't breathe. His chest is so tight it feels like someone has weighed him down with bricks. He wants to look away. He wants to look anywhere else. But there's no way he can take his eyes off of you. You, or the guy who's talking to you.

He'd only gotten up to order fresh drinks at the bar. He'd been gone for barely two minutes, but when he turns to check on you, there's already a guy standing in front of the little booth the two of you had claimed - and even from here, Jake can see that the smile you've put on is entirely fake.

It takes him exactly five seconds to decide that he can't care less about the drinks. He pushes through the crowd, rams his elbows into way too many people and ignores all of their insults completely. None of that matters.

"Is there a problem?", he growls when he's just a step away from the fucker talking to you. The guy turns to him and has the audacity to only look mildly surprised. He's young, that's the first thing Jake notices. He's about your age. Then Jake notices his service khakis. And then he notices nothing about the guy anymore, because he looks down at you and notices you - the way you're blinking up at him with wide eyes and seem visibly relieved he's back.

"No, sir", the guy says, before turning back at you and smiling. "I was just asking for your daughter's number."

Daughter.

Jake freezes.

Your phone hits the tabletop hard.

Both of you are too stunned to say anything. Your mouth opens and closes without a single word forming on your lips. Jake doesn't even feel like he exists for three seconds. Daughter. Yeah, damn, you're young enough to be his daughter. His daughter. His daughter. His daughter.

"Oh, I'm-", the guy frowns. "Did I say something wrong?"

You clench your jaw and get up, even as Jake keeps standing and staring and not saying anything at all. His mind is reeling. This entire thing would be way easier if the guy was an asshole. Then, maybe, Jake would just revisit his youth for about two minutes, knock the fucker out, throw you into the back of his truck and take you home. But the guy's not an asshole, not really, and the word daughter keeps running through Jake's head in an endless loop.

"Yes", you snarl, grab your phone and your purse and climb out of the booth. "Good night."

You tuck your arm into Jake's and want to pull him with you through the crowd and out of the bar- but your touch seems to suddenly un-freeze him. Within the blink of an eye, he's wrapped his arms around you and slotted your mouths together.

You let out a surprised squeak that melts into a pleased moan, your arms crossing behind Jake's neck all on their own, pressing closer, pushing against him-

"Oh", the guy says. He'd told you his name when he'd come over. You'd forgotten already. You don't really care about it anyway because Jake has his lips on yours, his hands on your waist, his fingers digging into your hips.

He pulls away far too quickly. You're disoriented for a moment too long, your heart hammering, your skin buzzing with heat. God, this man-

"Less dad and more daddy, I get it", the guy grins, and now he is starting to seem like an asshole. A muscle in Jake's jaw feathers. He draws his arms away from you and pulls yours off of his neck.

"Less petty officer, more admiral", Jake says. He doesn't give the asshole another glance. That barely navy fucker doesn't deserve another glance. "Let's get you home, darling."

[gloomwitchwrites]

Break Up with Your Toxic Boyfriend (2 of 4)

John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: brief discussion of verbal and emotional injury, briefly implied future physical injury, protective / possessive Soap, hand job, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl)

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

You and Soap might no longer be together, but he is your "safe space", and you need to vent. While raging over the phone about your boyfriend, Soap arrives at your door.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // break up with your toxic boyfriend masterlist

The anger and hurt in your voice are the only fuel John needs.

You have no idea that he is already on his way to you, that he hooked your phone call up to his helmet. That, even now, John is on his sportbike zooming down roads and weaving around cars in an effort to get to you.

There is a fire under his skin. It burns away all other concerns. Every word you speak is a blown furnace, the destruction mounting until each utterance infuriates him further. This “boyfriend” of yours, the one you started seeing after the two of you broke up, deserves a fucking sharp punch to the jaw. He deserves missing teeth and broken bones.

Men like him aren’t men at all. They’re rubbish, only valuing women as objects, seeing them as their housekeeper and not their partner.

In his ear, you’re hardly taking a breath. Your words are a stream of consciousness, each word angrily pushing into the other until it’s a jumbled mess. John listens to it all, using that as motivation to get to you. It’s doesn’t fucking matter that you’re not his anymore.

John still cares. He still loves you. The need to protect and defend you is innate. One teary-laced word was enough for him to drop everything and head in your direction. Doesn’t matter that you and he ended things a bit messy. It was simply complicated. The two of you needed to work a few things out but broke it off because that was the easy thing to do.

He regrets that. He regrets not fighting. Not getting his shit together.

The engine revs, and John turns onto your street, almost throwing himself off his bike to get to your front door. In one hand he’s holding his helmet. In the other, he’s holding his phone, the device pressed to his ear as you keep talking. Reaching out, he pounds on the door.

You immediately pause on the other side of the phone. “There’s someone at my door,” you murmur, voice slightly distant.

“I know,” he replies. “It’s me.”

Silence on the other end. But then he hears it—the familiar click of a lock. Following that is your front door opening, revealing you.

The two of you stand there, staring at each other. Your momentary shock slips, dipping into confusion.

“What are you—” you begin but promptly stop as John pushes past you and into the flat.

“Is that fucker here?” John strides into the kitchen, placing his helmet down on the counter before ending the phone call and slipping the device into his back pocket.

“John.”

He glances down the hallway and then turns to you. “Is he here?”

You shake your head. “No. He’s not here.”

John’s chest heaves with relief, some of the tension receding.

“John,” you repeat, the concern in your voice enough to smother some of that fire burning beneath his ribcage.

“Did he hurt you?” he asks softly, approaching.

His gaze roams up and down your body, searching for signs of injury. There is none, at least not that he can see. That doesn’t mean there aren’t marks somewhere hiding beneath the clothes. The very thought fans the flames, charging John’s nerves until they crackle like lightening.

“No, Johnny. I’m fine.”

Johnny.

Only two people are allowed to call him that and one of them is standing right in front of him. The use of it, the way it falls from your lips, is enough to slightly quiet the anger. He sighs, expelling some of that smoky frustration. But then his gaze flicks to a spot just over your shoulder, and a new feeling emerges.

There are fist-sized holes in the wall. Four of them. Much too large to be your hands.

“What the fuck are those?” John’s voice drops as he nods toward them.

The sadness that forms on your features nearly rips his lungs from his body. John has never seen you like this. Never this defeated.

“They happened after,” you answer.

“After what?”

“The argument.”

You and John have had your fair share of arguments, but he’s never punched a wall. He’s never thrown anything or threatened you.

Never. Fucking never.

No. Fuck this guy.

“You’re breaking up with him.”

“What?” you ask, flustered by his sudden outburst.

“He doesn’t deserve you,” he murmurs. “Doesn’t deserve to breathe the same air as you. To kiss your lips. To be in your presence.”

You deserve so much more than whatever this fucker is providing. Which is apparently nothing served alongside fist-sized gapping wounds in the plaster.

Your mouth opens like you’re about to reject the idea, but it’s not a suggestion. You are breaking up with him. You will leave him even if that means John doesn’t get to have you. That’s fine. That’s okay. He can live with that. What he can’t live with is knowing you’re with someone who treats you like rubbish.

He needs to get this off his chest, to make you understand that you are entitled to more.

“I listened the whole way here and you know what I heard?” He pauses and notices the slight quiver in your bottom lip. “That you’re unhappy. Have been for some time.”

You blink and fresh tears form there. John has to bite back the instinct to kiss them away. It’s what he would do if you were still his.

He licks his lips, a large sigh leaving him as he points over your shoulder. “He treats you poorly.” John’s hand slices through the air. “Walks all over you. Doesn’t answer you for hours and then gets angry with you when he finally makes contact.”

As John talks, even he can hear his voice thickening. This always happens when he gets worked up, and you’ve always playfully teased him about it.

“He’s a fucking waste of space.”

“John—”

“Break it off. And—fuck. If you can’t face him, then let me do it.” He places his hand on his chest. “Allow me to defend you.”

Your features soften and John wants to drink it in, to remember the way you’re currently looking at him. He remembers this side of you, the one that easily pierces him like a needle breaks skin. A look like this will put John on his knees if you ask him to.

“Johnny.”

He’s done. Gone. There is no coming back from this. Whenever you say his name like that, you’re either annoyed with him, wanting him to listen, or you’re just about ready to kiss him. It momentarily rips away all the thoughts in his head, leaving him temporarily mute before his brain can catch up again.

“Listen to me,” he says, gripping the sides of your face. “Get rid of him. I—I know you don’t want me but fucking hell. Don’t pick him. Don’t—”

John is silenced.

Not by your words leaving your mouth but from your lips pressing to his. It startles him—shocks him that you’re kissing him. Leaning into him. John responds, kisses you back, his tongue exploding with the remembrance of your taste.

But you’re still not his. You belong to someone else still and this isn’t right, no matter how much he fucking hates it.

“Stop, love,” he murmurs, pushing on your shoulders.

John loathes telling you to stop. To move away from him. Doing so is like fish hooks caught in the skin. He wants to reel you right back in, to taste your lips again, and fall into memory.

“I ended it,” you reply softly. “It’s over. That’s why there are holes in the wall.”

John pauses, his gaze growing serious. “What?”

You shake your head. “He didn’t like that I wanted him to leave. That I didn’t want to see him anymore.”

Your fingers dig into the back of John’s neck and that one touch is enough to dissolve his resolve about not kissing you into dust.

He closes the distance, and you welcome him in, opening beautifully.

“Am I your rebound?” he teasingly asks between kisses.

You laugh against his lips and kiss him again. “Why did I ever leave you?” Your question is a sad murmur tinged with a regret that leaches off your words and floods into his heart.

“Because I was an asshole.” He believes these words completely but you’re shaking your head.

“No,” you reply. “You weren’t. Never that.”

The kisses between you, which at first were soft, quickly develop into deeper passion, twining like a spool of thread around a bobbin. John drags you against him, tasting over and over until you are imprinted on his memory.

Your arms drape over the back of his neck to pull him even closer, and John snaps. That gentle resolve is gone. He needs you.

Reaching down to cup your ass, John lifts you off the ground until your legs naturally wrap around his waist. He knows where the bedroom is but that’s too fucking far. The desire writhing between and around his bones is a blood-beast. A feral thing that calls out for your skin against his.

Setting you down on the counter, John shoves his helmet out of the way. You’re already reaching for him, undoing the front of his pants, slipping in to palm him. The inhale you make when your fingers wrap around his cock is sweet and John breathes it in as if that one sound makes up his entire lifeblood.

Fuck. Fuck.

He’s going to taste you everywhere. His lips and teeth will mark your skin. His tongue will find a home between your legs. You’ll forget this fuckers name. He just needs a few hours and it’ll be his name you’re screaming.

You stroke him again, and John drags you right to the edge of the counter, intending to sink to his knees to worship between your spread thighs.

Your knees lock at his hips and with another stroke of your hand, you tell him what you want. “I need you inside me. I want to feel you.”

You ask so sweetly. He can’t say no. He doesn’t want to.

John helps you ease his pants down to his thighs. When he goes to undress you, he only finds underwear under that large, oversized shirt.

“Fuck, love.” John’s finger drags that fabric aside and he groans at the sight.

You’re already wet. Aching. Ready for him. Begging him to bury himself inside.

This one will be quick. It’ll be rough and he’ll probably fucking spill within a minute, but he has the whole night to take you over every surface in this flat, to make you writhe and moan beneath him.

Placing one hand on the counter and one on your thigh, John starts to ease in. Inch by inch, slowly, he disappears until there is nothing left for him to give. He has a perfect view of how you stretch around him. How you slightly clench and unclench, the pleasure of it shooting to the base of his spine.

“Don’t leave me,” you murmur as Soap begins to thrust into you.

“Never,” he replies, nuzzling the side of your face as you pepper him with kisses.

John anchors himself, snapping his hips, chasing the end just so he can get you back into that bedroom to do so much more.

“You’re mine,” he groans as your fingers dig into his skin, pulling him closer. “Always have been.”

taglist:

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[leascorner]

j.s. | Welcome home

Summary: After a mission, Jake gets some well deserved break at home. However the week might not turn out how he had planned.

Pairing:  Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x childhood bff!f!reader

Warnings: Angst, mention of death and near death experience, mention of break-up, probably inexact american army facts, ever most likely inexact description of Texas, mention of food, two idiots in love, happy ending

Word Count: 9.2k

A/N: I've said it before, I will say it again. The only trope that I can write/read about Jake is a childhood/best friends to lovers, don't fight me. I also see Jake as an older brother to two half-sisters his mother had with a very good man, after his father abandonned them. This is my canon.

Anyway, this is way too long and way too chaotic but I just couldn't stop writting so enjoy!

Masterlist

Y/N was literally hopping up and down with impatience - or perhaps was it the three cups of coffees she had drunk to be able to keep up with the 2-hour-long drive to the airport in the middle of the night. She was standing on the arrival floors, on her tiptoes, trying to locate the person she was picking up. The flow of travellers coming through the arrival doors was continuous, so many blond heads coming through and none of them was his.

Her childhood best friend’s flight had landed a dozen of minutes prior; 3:28 a.m. was the time she received a “be right there, see you soon” text. Ever since then, the seconds had been going past very - very - slowly and with every second passing, Y/N chest had got narrower from anticipation to the point she felt like she couldn’t breathe. It hadn’t been more than a year and a half now that they had seen each other in the flesh. Of course, there were the texts, the emails and the FaceTime calls, but it was never the same.

“Jake!”

The sea of people in front of them seemed to split in half to let them collide in one another. The said Jake let his bag fall to his feet to catch a flying Y/N, lifting her from the ground as if she weighted nothing. Her hands found the back of his neck and her head found the crook of his neck, reuniting their bodies as if they were only one mind.

“Hey sweetheart,” he sniffed her hair, intoxicating himself from her perfume.

Jake let her down reluctantly when he realized they were in the way of other people reunions. After swinging his bag over his shoulder and dragging her near a row of seats, he finally took a good look at her, dark circles under puffy red eyes and hair all other the place. He dried her tears softly and kissed the top of her head, something he was sure he hadn’t done since they were in high school and that fucker of Chad had broken up her heart - thinking of it now, it seemed like it was a lifetime away. However, he knew that in this moment there was no sadness in her tears. She was crying probably a little happiness to seeing him again, but most certainly a lot of relief to have him alive in front of her.

He took another step back to have an even greater look at her. Y/N was exactly how he last saw her one year or so ago, and exactly how she looked like even all the other times he had to leave. She did not seem to age, and he was sure that the fine smile lines she was now wearing had always been there. It brought comfort to his heart to know that whatever would happen, she would always be waiting for him. He knew it was also selfish, but he had made peace with those thoughts a long time ago. These were moments that he was collecting in his mind for when he was somewhere overseas, fighting for his life.

“My my, did you grow up a few inches?”

“Oh, shut up!” Y/N laughed and tried to nudge him in the ribs. Jake easily grabbed her right elbow to bring her closer in another embrace, so very glad to be home, even only for a little while.

Ventilation was swinging litters of hot air into the car's cabin as it was a rather chilly night for October in Texas. The full moon was lighting up all the roads in front of them, just as if it was making sure they would get home safely.

During the drive, the main discussion turned around how excited everyone would be to have him there. Y/N and her parents were the only ones to know about Jake’s surprise visit; they had only known for about three days before his flight landed that he unexpectedly got a week of leave. They would surprise his family later that day for lunch - only after they both had a rather long nap to make up for the sleepless night.

Jake had seen his family a couple more times than Y/N this past year and a half. Even if he considered Y/N to be family, this wasn’t exactly the rule of the administration. Blood family had some more privileges, like sometimes visiting for the holidays. His mother and one of his little sisters also visited him in Singapore when he was stationed there for an exercise in the Taiwan Strait; they had booked a vacation to be able to see him there. Y/N, at that time, had been unavailable - she had her own life after all.

It was what Jake found the more difficult; to keep up with her life. Most of her friends were common friends from high school. With her going to a different university and later with her different jobs, some of her friends were total strangers to him. However, they all seemed to come and go into her life, leaving more or less damage.

“I am sorry about you and Nick.”

Y/N finished getting back to the right line of the highway and removing the blinker, before glancing quickly in Jake’s direction. He was looking at her, with an expression she couldn’t quite read, but that she understood as some kind of gladness. She sighed while turning her focus back on the road.

“You can lie better than that, Jake.”

“Well, didn’t like the guy so…”

It had been a couple of months now than her longtime boyfriend Nick and she had broken up. What confused Jake the most was how this was not a topic for discussion. She hadn’t called crying; she did not seem to be angry. She just announced it to him like it was nothing and directly switched subject. He hadn’t found a way to bring it back on the table, so he asked their friends and family. They all had the same answer; she was doing fine. She seemed to have continued her life just like nothing had happened.

“Was it him-”

“It was me,” Y/N cut him off quickly abruptly, leaving Jake with an uneasy feeling. She sighed again, probably realizing how harsh her tone had been. “This wasn’t working out anyway.”

Though she could not see him, Jake nodded back acknowledging her response. He still felt like there were more to it, but he understood that now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Ever since they had known each other - and it went back to kindergarten, they hadn’t had many secrets for one another. And if they had, it was never anything major.

So, he shook off this feeling and gently grabbed her hand resting on the gearshift to squeeze it softly.

“I do am sorry, though.”

“I know.”

It was nearly six in the morning when Y/N pulled up in her parents’ driveway.

The porch light was on, welcoming them, making sure Jake knew he was expected, and it made him smile fondly. It still felt surreal somehow; after everything, he was home. Getting out of the car, he breathed the fresh air of Texas like he hadn’t breathed in years.

Y/N was already opening her trunk, getting out a duffel bag that seemed to contain some clothes for today. Jake jogged toward her before she was able to get his own khaki bag out. She rolled her eyes, smiling, when he gently slapped her hands away to take care of it.

“Mom set up a spare bed in my room,” Y/N informed him while walking to the front door. “Just like the old days.”

And nothing in the house had changed either.

The hallway was still a drive along memories with all sorts of pictures hanged upon the wall. Y/N’s parents wedding portrait. Y/N’s baby pictures. Y/N on the day of the start of her first kindergarten year - just before they met each other. A couple more of first day of school pictures - this time with him in it as well. A couple of family vacation pictures. And along with them, a couple of pictures of events he wasn’t even there to attend. Y/N’s university graduation, her parents’ thirty-year anniversary celebration party, her first promotion celebration dinner…

The kitchen was still on the right, the living room on the left and straight ahead the stairs to the bedrooms. Y/N’s bedroom still had Justin Timberlake poster hung up on the walls along with some pictures of friends and family. The teddy bear he won for her at the funfair when they were not even ten stood on her bed. Jake swore that if he opened the dresser, he would still find the shelf that was for his stuff back then.

Without many words, both of them got ready for bed. Y/N took the en-suite bathroom first and when Jake got back in his sweatpants, she was already in bed, cuddling Mister B the teddy bear. His chuckle made her look up to him with sleepy eyes and quickly look away when she realized he didn’t wear a shirt. He kissed her on her forehead before tugging her more tightly in her sheets and turning off the bedside lamp.

“Do you remember when I couldn’t sleep unless someone was holding my hand?”

Jake only hummed in answer, and even in the darkness of her room, his hand found hers instinctively. Their fingers intertwining immediately, he did just as he had promised when he was only just a kid; he never let it go.

“Son,” Y/N’s father spoke from the other side of the kitchen, “don’t worry about it.”

Jake shook his head, smiling, before proceeding with what he was already doing: loading the cup he had used to drink coffee in the dishwasher. Ever since he had been up earlier that morning, Y/N’s parents had pampered him with all their attention while also being busy preparing lunch. Every time he asked if they needed help, they would assure him he just needed to stay put in his seat.

It had always been like this, for as long as he had remembered. Whenever he had gone over when Y/N and he were still in middle school, her parents had always taken good care of him, making sure the crust of his PB&J sandwiches were cut off, putting on his favourite beddings when they were having a sleepover, drying his clothes in the air dryer when they came home soaking wet from the park. He felt loved in a different way than he did at home, where he had a hard time adjusting to his new family dynamics with his two younger step-sitters. Growing up, they continued on listening to him and caring for him. Y/N’s father was the one he went to for advice before he enrolled. Ever since, and with the little time he had with them every time he came home, it still hit him in the face how much they loved him like he was their own son.

“Do you need help with anything?” He asked once more.

This time, they did not have time to answer. Y/N appeared on the doorstep, changed out of her pyjamas, hair still wet. “The shower is all yours, Jake.”

She watched him go as if she had to make sure he remembered the way to her room. She hadn’t really realized yet that he was really here, with them, and feared that he would just disappear at any minute or that she would just wake up from whatever dream she was having. Somehow this also seemed to be all too familiar, like a play they had rehearsed a hundred time before. It broke her heart a little to know this was most likely not going to happen again before a very long time, that it could actually never happen again.

Y/N got this thought out of her head as soon as it came. She didn’t need to think about this. Not now. Not ever. She just needed to enjoy whatever time she had with him at home.

“He looks good,” her mum stated once Jake had made it to the top of the stairs.

“Yeah, he does,” Y/N spoke softly, eyes lingering to where Jake had been only a couple of seconds before, suddenly wondering if he was really as good as they thought.

When Jake got back to the kitchen the entrance clock had just struck eleven. Only sixty minutes until he would be reunited with his family. It never felt more real, but he couldn’t quite realize it. He was so used of being far away from them, totally disconnected from their realities, hearing their news after everyone else. Yet, he had always found them as he had left them, eyes watering to see him home or gone.

He joined Y/N on the vegetable preparation. Washing, peeling, cutting kept him busy while the anticipation started to build up. All while Y/N’s father asked him about what new manoeuvres he had learned. Being an aviator himself, they could talk about flying for hours to Y/N’s greatest damn; she had the biggest fear of flying - and perhaps the fact that Jake nearly crashed them while flying an old aircraft he had restored with her father when they were teenagers had something to do with it.

“These boys,” Y/N’s mother sighed playfully as Jake and Y/F/N were debating whatever solar planes were the future of aviation. Y/N smiled as she shared a knowing look with her mother, who was getting ready to lay the table in the dining room.

“Mom, hold on,” Y/N called before reaching inside the cupboard next to her, “you are missing a plate.”

“Why? Is Mark coming after all?”

Y/M/N’s face went white in only a second as she realized what she had just said. Not knowing what to do else, Y/N handed her the white plate. Looking sideways to Jake, she hoped he hadn’t heard - she didn’t want him to find out like this, when his whole family was going to be here in the next thirty minutes.

It was already too late though; Jake’s attention had of course switched to their awkward interaction. Her father was quick to step in, wiping his hands on a cloth and moving towards his wife.

“Of course he is, darling. Let me help you bring those into the dining room.”

Y/N watched them disappear before quickly turning back to the carrots she was now cutting in a Julienne, praying Jake would just drop the subject. Ever since she had learned that Jake was having a leave, she had planned their reunion to be perfect. She had purposely lied to his family, pretending to have a very big news to share with them so they all agreed to gather even if the atmosphere was not good. She had made them promise to bury the hatchet, for “her” and most absolutely for Jack. Whatever touchy topics they would have to talk about, they could do it after.

“Why wouldn’t he come?” Jake still asked and, at that moment, she knew that whatever she would tell him would never be sufficient to not draw his suspicion any further. She couldn’t lie to him even if she tried.

“Just been busing with work lately, you know how it is.”

Without letting him time to ask more questions, Y/N went for the stoves to make sure the sauce was still reducing as it should have. She could feel Jake’s eyes burning holes on her back and could only hope he would drop the subject.

“Jake, son,” Y/F/N had just gotten back from the dining room, “would you mind giving me a hand with the roast?”

After taking a last look at Y/N, still very focused on stirring the sauce, Jake turned to her father. It wasn’t until she didn’t feel his eyes on her that she turned to look at him. She watched as her father made him took out the turkey so he could put some more butter on it. Out of the corner of his eye his father gives him a reassuring wink signalling her he had got this.

The bell rang at the exact same moment Y/N put the last plate of hors d’oeuvres at the centre of the table. Shooting a look across the piece, she saw her father squeezing Jake’s shoulder in what seemed to comfort him. She smiled shyly, trying to hide her own nervousness. Thanks to her father, Jake had nearly forgotten about the earlier incident about Mark and the reason he wouldn’t have been able to make it. He hadn’t asked any other questions, and they hadn’t given away other secrets. All was well in the best of all words, or so she still tried to convince herself. It was all that mattered.

“Just like we said, you both stay here, and we’ll bring them for you.”

Y/N watched as her parents disappeared in the hall. She turned to Jake who she now realized he was close at her side - she knew from the way his lips were set in a tight smile that he was somehow nervous. When noises started coming from the hall, Y/N grabbed Jake’s hand without thinking. She needed him to know she was there, that she would always be there, just like they promised when they were younger. It would take much more than a thousand of miles and a few hiccups to take them apart. As if he was thinking the exact same thing, Jake squeezed her hand back.

Jake’s step-dad was the first to enter the dining room. Y/N saw his eyes go from herself to Jake right next to her side, his eyes lighting up in realization. Yet, he didn’t say anything, holding a finger to his lips to let them know he would stay silent while moving further into the room as if nothing had happened. He and Jake had never been particularly close; he was a good man, a good husband, and a good father to his daughters, but Jake’s fatherly figure had always been Y/N’s father.

Next to enter the room was Jake’s youngest step-sister, Sophia. She immediately spotted him, letting out a cry and running into his arms. He crushed his sister in one of those same hugs he gave Y/N when she picked him up from the airport. It warmed her heart to see them like that. Sophia was still very young when Jake had enrolled; she was only just a kid and had grown up with the lack of his older brother. She was looking up to him so much that Y/N had sometimes to remind her that he didn’t have only qualities. He was her hero in so many ways…

Sophia’s reaction got the rest of the family - his mother, Olivia, his other step-sister, and his step-brother, Mark - in the dining room quite quickly. There were a lot of “Jake!” shouted from across the room and loads of tears, happy smiles, and hugs.

“I can’t believe he is here.” Sophia cried again; this time she was in Y/N’s arms. “And I can’t believe you lied to us.”

“Sorry not sorry,” Y/N smiled, tugging a string of her hair behind her ears before bringing her in an even closer hug if it was possible. She wasn’t sure she had seen her this happy in her life, she realized.

Y/N was an only child with a very little family. Over the years, Jake’s family had grown to be her own as well. As children first, as they were always all together at either one’s house or the others. As teenagers when his step-sisters weren’t babies anymore and they had started to be able to play more with them. She remembered helping his mom getting both of his sisters ready for school, all of them celebrating Christmas at her parents or going dress shopping for Olivia’s first prom.

Ever since Jake had been deployed on the West Coast and later overseas, they had grown even closer. There were brunches on Sundays, just the three of them, where Sophia would file them up on her latest dating adventures. There were lunches at Olivia’s office after they had taken a midday yoga class. There were breakfasts with Sophia before her classes began. Y/N had always made sure they were alright, as if she had to do it for Jake.

So far, the lunch had turned out great.

Jake had told them all about his last position and this group of pilots he had been joining overseas. Everyone had started feeding him bits and pieces of what had occurred ever since the last time he’s been home. Olivia and Mark had managed not to fight, which was a miracle in itself, per Y/N’s opinion. Jake’s mom had finally stopped crying. And Sophia seemed to have forgotten about those hard choices she would have to make once she graduated from college at the end of the year.

At least, that was the case until Jake asked about it.

“So, any thoughts yet about what you’ll do next year?”

“No, not really.”

Y/N had already seen that look on Sophia’s face. It was the same one she made when she was hesitating between an avocado toast and pancakes at the place they were used to going to brunch; every time she had been making this face, she had ended up with ordering both. Sophia eyed her tentatively and Y/N immediately shook her head no, silently pleading her not to do whatever she was thinking.

Today was not the day. Jake had only gotten back from abroad hours ago, they would have enough time to discuss it in the next couple of days.

“I am thinking of enrolling,” Sophia stated abruptly.

Boom.

The bomb had landed.

Y/N sighed, mentally cursing Sophia for needing whatever validation from him. They all had talked about this extensively for months on now. Decide to enrol was one thing, accept that one of your relative would do the same was another. She knew how Jake was; he didn’t look like it at first sight, but his family was his everything. He had made the selfish decision that could result in them losing him forever, yet he wouldn’t accept that she’d do the same.

From the deathly silence that came after Sophia’s statement, Y/N rested the cutlery on the side of her plate, bracing herself for whatever had to come. Her attitude made Jake immediately turned to her. She had never seen the wrinkle between his eyebrows this deep before. She didn’t know if it was from dread, disappointment, or anger.

“You knew?”

Jaw tight, Y/N didn’t answer, and Jake huffed - of course, she knew. How could she not? She was here, with his own family, when he was thousands of miles away fighting for his country. She was here, only a ride away, when he couldn’t even remember the last time he had enough telephone network to FaceTime them. She was there, physically with them, when he was just a ghost, present for a few days a year before disappearing for months on hand.

Y/N tried to reach out for his left arm to try and calm the whole situation down, but he moved ever so slightly she couldn’t touch him. The fire in Jake’s green eyes was incandescent. He was angry, with Sophia, with her, with everyone. And to know he didn’t even know half of it…

“Let’s not start now,” his older step-sister stepped in to try and reason him.

“Why?” Jake retorted immediately. “Wanna updates me on what is going on with Mark as well?”

Olivia opened her mouth to answer and as she couldn’t seem to find something to say, she then closed it and lowered her head. She and Mark had officially announced a few weeks before Jake returned that they were going to take some time apart. They had been married for nearly three years and they were having a rough path. They had started couple therapy, trying to make things work. Y/N couldn’t count the hours Olivia had spent on her couch, crying and eating ice-creams.

Y/N knew exactly how she felt like. The deception of thinking she had found the love of her life only to realize it was more complex than this. The sadness of loving someone and it still not being enough for the two of them to be happy. The paralyzing fear of being alone, of never being well enough.

She needed a shoulder to cry onto and a lot of love, and not to be reminded of what a failure she thought she was.

“I am sorry,” Sophia mumbled. Y/N wasn’t sure to whom she was apologizing. Jake? Them?

“You can’t seriously be thinking about it?” Jake half-shouted, pointing her finger at her like he was accusing her of the worst betrayal.

“Don’t say anything you’d regret, son.”

Y/N’s father word seemed to put some sense into him as he leaned his back against his chair, folding his arms against his chest. The distress on Sophia’s face was now palpable and she was on the verge of crying from Jake’s quite violent reaction. Though she didn’t expect Jake to be totally supportive, Y/N had not expected him to reject the idea that much either. She had thought that he would’ve still listen to her reasons, maybe try to talk her out of it, but finally make peace with the idea. Just like they had. Just like they all had when he was in her shoes.

Olivia had regained her composure and wrapped an arm around her sister’ shoulders. The look she sent Jake probably refrained him from attacking again his little sister. Instead, he chose another target for his anger.

“How can anybody be cool with this?”

Before Jake’s mom could speak, Y/N called him out. “Why could you do it and not her, Jake, huh?” She wants to be like you so bad, don’t you see?

“That’s not the same thing.”

Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes.

It made her even bitter. For all the things he hadn’t told her when he had no reason to hide it from her. For him being hurt that they didn’t want to discuss as such important topics over the phone. She would have liked to be sorry to hide all this from him, yet his reaction had only comfort her on her choice.

“You’re being unfair.”

“Am I now?” he laughed. “Excuse me for putting my life at sake and not wishing for me sister to do the same.”

“Did anybody ask you to? If anything, we would all have loved to keep you by our side.”

“Oh, I see. So, this is all my fault, right?”

The daring look he offered her made her heart jump in her chest. Her stomach was in fire; consuming her from the inside. She was tired from the sleepless nights she had for the last few months. And sad about the outcome of this lunch. And disappointed in him. And quite frankly done with his attitude.

Sighing, she gave in and looked away, throwing her napkin on her plate at the same time. Whatever this was, it was too much for her to handle. “If you’d excuse me,” she announced as she moved her chair back. “I am not hungry anymore.”

“Y/N-” he called after her, grabbing her arm to make her stay. She gave him a pained look before abruptly pulling away from his grip.

“Welcome home, Jake.”

Jake’s face appeared once again on her phone screen.

Big bright smile, sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, forehead sun-kissed by the first rays of sunshine of spring. The picture had been taken one of the few times she had fly out to California to visit him. They had such a good time that Y/N used to hold all those memories close to her heart. Now, she couldn’t even look at it.

She couldn’t count the number of texts Jake had sent nor the number of messages he had left on her voice mail. She hadn’t read nor listened to any of them and had even decided to turn off her phone at some point during the night. She needed some time alone to take a breath and to swallow the disappointment that was forming a lump in her throat.

Despite the emotional roller coaster this day had been, she hadn't fallen asleep until late in the night, turning over in the sheet nonstop while thinking of all the comebacks she could have said to his face. And like every other night for months now, when she had finally managed to get some sleep, her worst nightmare had woken her up a couple of hours later.

It only made her feel worse and she cried all the tears in her body. It was like whatever emotion she had retained in the last year had come back to her like a wrecking ball. She was angry for all sorts of reasons all linked to Jake one way or another. She was also very sad of the situation she found herself into, of Jake having spoiled their reunion, of the spectacle she had given in front of her loved ones.

So, when she turned on her phone a few hours later, eyes still puffy and red from the lack of sleep and the crying, she didn’t hesitate to turn down his call when his smiley face appeared on her phone screen. At that time, she discovered the multiple texts and missed calls of her parents and Jake’s sisters. She sent them a quick group message, letting them know she was fine and that she would catch up later. Leaving her phone on the kitchen counter, she got ready for her day.

Her phone rang four more times while she was getting ready. She was now determined to let him know to leave her alone. She was still pissed, and she needed to compose herself. This was without counting on the doorbell ringing when she was about to answer her phone.

Stopping whatever she was doing, she made the few steps from the kitchen counter to her apartment door, opening it without even thinking who she would find behind. Much to her surprise it was the only person she didn’t want to see. Jake. Standing there, phone in his hand.

“Oh, come on!” he exclaimed when she nearly shut the door in his face.

He stopped it before it was fully closed and after a deep sigh, Y/N let him in without even giving him a look. She closed the door behind him, passing him - still without looking at him - and went to the living room. She leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing her arms on her chest much like he had done during lunch just the day before.

Jake stood in the middle of the room, watching around him. It was the first time he was in her new place, the one she started rented after she broke up with her long-term boyfriend. It wasn’t much, only a one-bedroom apartment with a sanitized decor - she hadn’t had the heart to make it her own. It was close to her work and not a too long drive from her parents; it was all she really needed.

Y/N studied him in silence. He must not have had the memo about the Texas weather at that time of the year as he was only wearing a beige sweater, sleeves rolled up. It wasn’t much of a surprise he had forgotten how it was; he had spent so little time home in the last ten years.

When her eyes finally got to his face, she realized he was now staring at her. She tried reading him like she could before, but what she found in his eyes, she couldn’t interpret. Perhaps something had been broken between them. Perhaps there were only so much absence someone could handle. Perhaps they had let the miles come in between them for real this time.

She couldn’t tell how long they stayed like this before he finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Long gone was the hope she had that he would apologize.

Jake had never been one to be wrong; he was probably even the most stubborn person she had ever met. Though she liked this confidence in him, she also knew it was hiding something much deeper. His trauma of being abandoned by his father when he was still a toddler. The fear of his loved ones realizing what a failure he was, despite everything he had already accomplished. The fear of never being enough.

He had assured her it wasn’t one of the reasons he had enrolled, and she knew he was lying to her just as much he was lying to himself. But she wasn’t her twenty-something-self; she wasn’t going to protect his feelings anymore. Now that they didn’t have an audience, she could lay her cards on the table.

“Do you mean, just like you didn’t tell us about the ejection seat accident that you had six months ago?”

She saw his face drop ever so slightly before he regained his composure back. She wasn’t the only one keeping things from him, yet contrary to him, the things she was keeping a secret weren’t really hers anyway.

“How would you know?”

“Javy called me that time,” she stated dryly, memories of the call she got in the middle of the night flowing to her head. She still had nightmares about it most nights. “He wanted me to know in case your brain injury worsened, and they had to call your family.”

This secret, she had never told anyone and had carried the weight of it on her own until now. She had smiled and assured everyone that all was fine for the days - sixteen in total - they didn’t hear from him; how could he, he had been literally in a 24h surveillance at the hospital. She had had Javy on the phone to report every little detail he had of Jake’s evolution. She hadn’t had sleep for weeks straight and had nearly cried when Jake had called him after a very busy and unexpected mission he took part in - another way for putting he had just got cleared from the hospital.

“It was nothing.”

“It wasn’t nothing, Jake! You got banned from flying for six weeks. Six fucking weeks!”

“And yet, it wasn’t the first time I ended up in the hospital, nor was it the last time. You know that’s part of the job.”

Y/N snorted.

Like hell she knew. The job description went with never being in the same time zone as your loved ones, missing every single milestone in their life, putting his very own safety at risk so they could all be free and safe, and omitting all details of the national security missions to which he was taking part. She was pretty sure though there was no line in his contract about lying about his health, especially when he could have died, to his family.

For some reason, this whole situation had made his absence even worse. She realized he didn’t feel safe to let them know when things had gone bad; if this time she had known, she couldn’t even imagine all those other times Javy hadn’t been there to inform her. It had awakened a visceral (and most likely also irrational) fear in her. She couldn’t bear the thought of losing him and she still wasn’t ready to accept it.

“Why is this such a big deal when you knew what was going in here and didn’t even tell me?”

If she hadn’t been this tired, Y/N would have probably walked to him to slap him. How could he compare his near-death experience to his sisters’ decisions? How could any of it be equivalent?

“This was not my truth to tell,” she only replied blankly.

Yes, she wasn’t very proud of hiding things from Jake and lying on purpose. But she wasn’t thirteen any longer and when people confided in her - when she promised she wouldn’t tell him anything - she wasn’t going to go running to her best friend to spill all the tea.

“Will you then tell me the truth about what really happened between you and the other dickhead?”

“I already told you everything,” she answered dryly, a little bit too quickly for it not to be suspicious.

“I don’t believe you.”

Y/N knew from the sound of his voice it was pure provocation. He gave her the same daring look she had just seen the day before - the same consuming flame was in his eyes - and she could see his infamous smirk dawning on his lips. She wondered why he wanted to prove just how right he was - how he was always right - so bad. It made her skin scramble how infuriating he was.

She didn’t answer right away and stared at him, arms crossed on her chest a little bit tighter to protect herself. Everything that was happening was only making her angrier towards him. He had ruined everything, and he had just decided to continue on doing so.

She had dreamt about him coming home for months and months, to have him by her side and now, she could only wish for him to go away. The anger, the pain, the animosity; it was all too much. She couldn’t keep up anymore.

“What do you want me to tell you, huh? How much of a great boyfriend and man he was, but that it still wasn’t enough? How much a horrible person I am for not being able to fall in love with a person that would devote his own life to try and make me happy?”

Jake opened his mouth to respond, but closed it as the words sank in. It all made sense to him suddenly. Why she seemed to be relieved it was all over. Why she didn’t call him after he broke her heart. Why, on the rare occasion he had discussed the break-up with his sisters, they had never talked badly about her ex-boyfriend. He didn’t break her heart. He never did.

She was the one breaking his.

“Why didn’t you just tell me?” he asked, this time his voice much softer.

How could she? When it all started with his accident - that she wasn’t even supposed to know of. When it took her five years of a stable relationship to realize her longtime boyfriend had never have been the person she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. When it took her half of her adult life to understand she had been lying to herself for almost all her life and that even now, she didn’t know her truth from her lies any more.

Knowing the truth, Jake didn’t know what to say. He wanted to feel sorry, he wanted to tell her he was. But was he really? It would be lying to say he didn’t exult when he had heard of the break-up... On the day she introduced him to Nick, they he had discussed - quite vividly - about the country actions in Afghanistan - one of the campaigns he had just come home from - and from that day, Jake had just decided he wouldn’t like the man. He hadn’t been very subtle about disliking him, but in his opinion, Nick had paid him back in his own coin: monopolizing Y/N whenever Jake had her on the phone, making her choose between the two of them when he had had the opportunity to fly her oversea. He still felt nauseous to recall how Y/N had seemed to only look at him every time Nick was in the room with them.

He made a few steps in her direction, going to comfort her, but Y/N only shook her head. She wouldn’t let any of this go so easily. It wasn’t because she had confided in him, that he now knew all the truth from her part, that everything else would be forgotten. There were still a lot of unspoken truth to uncover.

“Why are you really here, Jake?”

“What do you mean?”

“The reason you got this leave, what is it?”

They stood less than a metre away, eyes in eyes. Jake never felt so vulnerable as every time she looked at him as if she could read his soul. He knew she was looking for something. Something he couldn’t give her.

Looking away, he answered, “It’s nothing.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Y/N slipped away before he could even react. He watched as she turned back towards the front door. She opened it without a word and looked into his eyes as she stood leaned against it.

“Goodbye, Jake.”

And this time, he didn’t even try to fight.

Javy: Hey, got Hangman on the phone today. You okay?

Y/N: Did he vent at you for calling me that one time?

Javy: Almost.

Javy: He wasn’t really angry though. Just frustrated I guess.

Y/N: I bet. Wasn’t really the nice little break he must have planned.

Javy: If there is anything to learn from all this it is that truth is better spoken from the person they apply to.

Javy: You should talk to him.

Y/N: Yeah well I’ll see about that.

Jake was very nervous, and he wasn’t very nervous a lot.

In fact, he was pretty sure the last time he was that nervous was when he had picked Y/N up for their senior prom. Just like every year since starting high school, she had been his date - though Chad nearly had taken her away from him, but this dumbass had broken up with her only a couple of weeks before prom. That year, for some reason, everything felt different. High school years were coming to an end, they were both going to different universities. Everything was about to change, and it would never be the same. Jake had dreaded taking their relationship to the next level. If only he had known that despite going to different universities, Jake enrolling and basically the two of them living their life in parallel, their relationship had made it.

More or less so... It had been three days now since the lunch at her parents, two since their other discussion - if he would call this an argument, he was still unsure - and today was the first time he was seeing her since then.

After spending time with his family, he was on his way to meet with some of their childhood friends. Normally, Y/N was one of them and she had been invited. But with the recent events, he didn’t know if she would be here. He had had time to reflect on what had been said and finally had apologized to her voice mail as she wouldn’t let his calls through. He had given her plenty of time and space, sending in only a couple of good mornings and good nights texts, just like he was used to. Yet he didn’t know what to expect.

When he spotted her already sat at the table he had booked, his heart started pounding furiously. It gave him hope not everything between them had been broken.

“Hey,” Jake greeted Y/N softly when he had gotten at her level.

Y/N only nodded, barely looking at him, before continuing her discussion with their friend, Monica, like nothing had happened. Jake swallowed the lump in his throat before continuing to greet everyone around the table.

In all those diners they had had with their friends when he had been home, she would have been sat next to him, so close but merely touching. He would have had his arm resting nonchalantly on the back of her chair. He would have whispered all sorts of things in her ears, and she would have laughed open light-heartedly at every single one of his jokes.

That night, she was sat as far as possible from him and he had difficulty focusing on the group discussion, his mind going back to her every time. He probably went the whole evening looking at her not so subtly in the hope she would like to give him a look. She did not.

“You good?” Matt, sat at his side, asked him after the main course.

“Yeah,” Jake answered though the little tremor in his voice didn’t reflect confidence.

“Just give her a little time. It’s just a lot, y’know.”

Jake only nodded.

The problem was indeed just that: time. His flight back was in two days now and she was supposed to be his ride. He knew she would be able to drop him off without speaking a word, while he sat there in the agonizing silence. He was sure he was not able to do it for a couple of hours, he couldn’t imagine what it would be to not have her speak to him every again. He couldn’t get back to combat with Y/N still mad at him. He needed to fix things. He had been able to do it with his sisters; he had to do it with Y/N.

Indeed, the lunch had finished soon after Y/N’s dramatic departure. His sisters hadn’t spoken another word to him, and Y/N’s parents had tried to maintain some semblance of a conversation. Jake had taken a quick walk to clear his mind before going to his parents.

He had sat down with Olivia first and then Sophia, so they could tell him everything that had been going on. He sat there listening to what they had to say until they were done. There had been a lot of crying on their side (only a tiny little bit on his side - most likely because he had a dust in the eye, he would say). In the end, they had hugged and laughed and remembered that they loved each other and that nothing could be more important than that.

He had realized Olivia seemed much more at peace, somehow differently but also similarly to Y/N’s. She had so many plans on her side - buying a house, planning a trip to Europe, getting a puppy – as if she had just discovered she could be a unique person outside her marriage and she genuinely was happier.

The talk with Sophia had been a little bit more sensitive. The idea of her enrolling made his blood boiling, but he had remained calm – or at least tried to - and listened to her reasons. If he was afraid to see himself in her, her reasons were solely different than his. She didn’t want this only to do like him; it was more that he had paved the way for her. He had made her promise to think some more about it - at least, graduate from college before deciding anything - and he had promised to be supportive. He would have some work on himself, but he would cross that bridge when he’d get there.

They had of course talked about Y/N and how she was carrying the whole family on her shoulders. She always made sure everyone was alright, answering her phone at 3 a.m. to pick up Sophia from a frat party gone wild, welcoming Olivia in her tiny apartment - giving her the only bed to sleep on the couch, despite her protest - the time she turned things round after Mark and she had decided to take some time apart. She even made sure their mother was alright when his step-dad was away for business, bringing her homemade meals that she only had to heat up and keeping her company.

If he always knew what an amazingly caring person she was, it only proved him right. He would be forever grateful she was the first person to have talked to him on his first day of kindergarten. He would be forever grateful for the woman she was. If he was honest with himself, it all made him love her even more.

He wasn’t ready to watch her from afar - well, from much far away than his current position - but he would do it (or at least try), should she ask him to…

After what seemed to be an eternity, the evening finally came to an end.

Jake didn’t get the opportunity to speak to Y/N though he hesitated multiple times to just call her out or walk to her and demand that they had a chat. She was currently bidding goodbye to everyone in front of the restaurant, and Jake was watching her attentively to ambush her just as soon as she was finished. He didn’t care if he would be rude to anyone by not saying thank you for coming and goodbye; he needed to talk to her.

After she hugged Monica and promised to let her know when she got home safely, she reached for her car key in her bag and made her way to her car without even looking at him. Jake took his luck and followed her. He called after her, but she refused to acknowledge him.

“Can we not?”

“Why?” she turned around suddenly. “Want me to tell you anything else?”

“Y/N, please.”

She only raised an eyebrow before turning back and continuing walking. Too bad for her, Jake wasn’t one to give up this easily. He followed her lead up to her car that she started to unlock to get in. A wave of panic got through him as he could feel her slip away from his fingers and he didn’t want that. If they didn’t have this talk now, he was not sure they would have it at all.

“I only have two days left,” he said, interposing himself between the closed door and her. “Please.”

Y/N froze at only a few centimetres away from him. She seemed to think about what options she had. Unfortunately for her, there just wasn’t much as she couldn’t make Jake move even if she wanted to. So, she chose the reasonable choice. She crossed her arms over her chest and listened.

“I-” he sighed, passing a hand on his face, frustration clearly visible on his face now. “There has been an incident. We lost two men.”

Y/N’s arms immediately dropped to her side; the mask she wore on her face cracked. She could have been angry he lied to her, yet again, but this time, it was too serious. People died. The command had given them time off because of it. It only reminded her it could end at any time. She really could lose him.

“Jake,” she sighed.

“I-”

His voice broke and Y/N didn’t hesitate to go in for a hug. Out of habits, his arms found her waist and he buried his face in her hair. He breathed her perfume in, trying to ground himself and not totally lose it. She was his rock. There were no ways he would still be here if it wasn’t for her waiting for him at home.

He couldn’t lose her.

“I can only imagine the worry I cause you all,” he muttered in her hair. “I didn’t want to add anything to it.”

Y/N grabbed his face with both her hands and forced him to look at her. She wore a small frown on her eyebrows and determination in her eyes. While she was touched he wanted to spare their feelings, not knowing what was going on was even worse. She couldn’t count the number of times she had thought he was dead when an unknown number had called her phone. In order to support him the best way they could, they needed to know.

“Getting you back in one piece is our priority,” she started, voice bold as if she wanted him to engrave her words in his head. “That’s why we are keeping things to ourselves. We don’t want you to worry about us when you should be solely focused on staying alive.”

Jake half-smiled in return, which made Y/N relax a bit. Her hands fall on his shoulder as he kept her close to him, so close that there was no space between their two bodies. They had realized they wanted the exact same thing for one another: for them to be safe and sound.

“I worry about you all, all the time. I worry about you, all the time,” he confessed, his voice still low.

Jake reached out to tuck a loose string of hair behind her ear and Y/N instinctively leaned in his touch. It was like this between them, easy and pure. It always had. Sometimes - like these last past days, they were so caught up in life they seemed to forget what they had was so unique. Every time they had found their way back to each other.

“I left you alone while I am off, living my dream.”

“Don’t say it like you could have made any other choice, Jake.”

“I don’t regret it,” he answered right back. “Yet if I had to do it all over again, there are a lot of things about you that I would do a whole lot differently.”

Y/N nodded slowly, her heart rate slightly going up. If they often shared I-love-you’s more out of habits than anything else - though they were always genuine, Jake had never really expressed out loud how he felt about her, and from the electricity in the air - totally different from the explosive tension that had built up until now, she could feel there were more to it.

“It’s never too late, they say,” he smiled softly, his hand making it to the back of her neck.

Y/N hold her breath, searching in his eyes if he was being serious and if he was really wanting to finish the conversation they had started the night of their senior prom. If he wanted to do it right here, right now in a parking lot. It was a conversation that could have totally changed their life if they had it. A conversation for which they every so often imagined what they would have said if fear hadn’t stopped them.

If there were much younger back then, nothing now had changed at all.

“I’ve always been yours,” Y/N whispered. It would be lying if relief hadn’t wash over Jake. Of course he had known - he had always known - yet, hearing it was another thing.

“I know.”

Y/N’s bright eyes saw his eyes dove down to her lips, only a dozen of centimetres away she realized now, then back to her eyes. Her cheeks were burning up from the anticipation of what was to come. Yet, lost in each other’s eyes, none of them moved.

At that moment, the world could have stopped that they wouldn’t have noticed. Nothing else but them mattered.

“Well, kiss me then.”

[nmakii]

“DO YOU THINK YOU’LL KILL FOR ME ONE DAY?” YES, OF COURSE I WILL, MY DARLING.

— manipulating yan!alastor + yan!vox was easy. after all, he’s a huge softie for you.

— lots of cursing + sex mention! (vox)

— lol!! after u read voxxy’s part, did u notice i said worse instaf of wordt? im super good at eng! 😈😈

— yan!alastor

you’d been acting out at this club for some time now— breaking property, starting a fight, and even lighting a fire. that last one did it for the owner, he finally banned you from the place, kicking you out indefinitely.

unfortunate, since it was your hangout spot for all kinds of mischief. perhaps— just maybe, there’d be a way to weasel your way back in? or, if not that, at least make him suffer.

a sniff came from you as you teared up, wondering about where else to have your fun. “ohh, my darling, is something the matter? you can tell me, i’ll make that problem go away.” alastor said as he walked into the hotel’s leisure room, his hand patting your back.

you tried to get the words out of your mouth, but it was simply too hard to breathe with the tears that poured down your face. “take your time, my doe… it’s okay.” alastor cooed with a slightly patronizing tone, as if he was the one in control right now.

“s-some club-owner… h-he called me degrading names, and then… he kicked me out…” you frowned at alastor, sniffing every now and then. “my doe, what exactly did he call you?” alastor asked, his voice slightly losing the static as well as having a more sinister edge.

as you listed the names the man had ‘called’ you, alastor pulled you closer to him as his anger began to boil. “it’s alright, my darling. a club with an owner like that is not worth it.” he smiled widely, brushing your hair gingerly before he planted a kiss on your forehead.

“besides, you’ll never see this man ever again. say, what did you say the name of this club was?” he asked before you whispered the club name to him. “i see… well, my little doe, it turns out that i must teach this man a lesson.” alastor stood up as his anger manifested into his body, elongating his limbs.

“you’re gonna kill him on radio? just… be kind… no one deserves a painful death.” you frowned in fake empathy. that fake empathy which would motivate alastor’s anger even more. “oh, dear, you are just too kind for hell. this man disrespected your honor, it’s simply fair that he receives something equally as humiliating.”

his hand rested on your chin, kissing you one last time before he left to find this disrespectful sinner. “now, if you’ll excuse me… someone has to be taught some manners. i assure you, love, that i’ll return by… dinnertime.” he promised before heading out the hotel, prepared to rip this man’s soul out of his body and make an example out of him for any other sinner who even dares to disrespect his little doe.

— yan!vox

are you the problem? nah, couldn’t be possible. if you were the problem, you wouldn’t have this lovely man as your boyfriend, now would you?

“ugh, then that bitch fucking unfollowed me! i don’t even know what i did to that fucker.” you sighed dramatically, frowning to your boyfriend through the facetime. “honestly, i don’t even know what you saw in her. you’re better off without, babe.” vox shrugged.

“and!! you wanna know the worst part?!?” you yelled out, face scrunching in pure dislike. “and what’s that?” vox asked. “that little bitch is yapping all over the city about you and i.” you rolled your eyes.

“ah..? she is? what exactly is she saying?” vox grunted as he glowed in anger. “she was ah… calling me your escort or whatever…” you scowled.

“tch, whatever! i’ll get over it— or, something.” you sighed, falling into your chair, as you closely eyed vox’s expression.

"aha... i'm glad you can let things go so easily, dear... now, i’d love to stay in call a bit longer, but i really have to take care of some important business right now." vox grunted, flying a quick yet lovely kiss to you before he ended the call.

okay, none of that happened— at least most of it didn’t happen. that girl... she was just pretty fucking annoying, always whining about how badly she wants to get fucked, jesus... close your fucking legs for once, yeah?

to be fair, on her own part, she was quite powerful. so, killing her yourself wasn't exactly a good option. instead, why not get your boyfriend to do it?

best case scenario, vox kills her, nothing else. worse case, vox simply hypnotizes her into selling her soul to him. ugh, imagine seeing that bitch's face everyday.

then again, you'd see her all sad and pathetic everyday cause she sold her freedom away.

either way, it's not looking too well for her.

[redrandomposts]

till narrowly missing ivan in every universe, either literally or figuratively, makes me giggle and cry at the same time AUUHSHSJSH if he was a regressor/reincarnator and og/alnst!till was watching his later incarnations, mans would be bald from tearing his hair out in frustration

"LOOK BACK MF LOOK BACK, YOU JUST MISSED HIM"

"THATS NOT WHAT HE MEANT AND YOU KNOW IT"

"NOW IS NOT THE TIME TO HAVE YOUR NTH SEXUALITY CRISIS, IVAN IS MOVING AWAY TOMORROW. MOVE IT"

and imagine his previous incarnations from other failed lifetimes watching the current lifetime with him and theyre all in the same frustrated state 😭

"can we PLEASE have one lifetime where we dont end up breaking his heart ? can we PLEASE—"

— 🌦️

HAHAHAHAHA LMAOOOOO

doomed lovers and tills watching it all happen, kicking and screaming

everytime an incarnation pops up in their little hell, he is kicked and beaten up and treated as a less-than-human being until the next one meets ivan. and then they're too focused watching how till (yes, that's you, a dumbass) misses every smile and glimmer of eyes and heartbreak that ivan shows.

"what the fuck?! what's he doing?! ivan is right there, don't go hitting on her - fuck! who is that idiot!"

"that idiot is you! do you remember how you made ivan your best man at your wedding?!"

"says the one had an arranged marriage with him then went to war and came home in love with a nurse!"

"all of you are idiots!"

and none of the tills know og till's backstory. most of the time he's writing songs and playing the guitar, as all of them do, but in a more extreme way. there's a little library with all the songs the tills have made, each shelf a different life. og till's is a whole bookshelf, but the ones about ivan only starts after he first appeared here.

(there's also the songs each and every ivan has made about till, for till, to till. those are treated much better than the ones the tills haphazardly throws into their respective shelves. they're encased in gold and glass, just as unattainable as ivan seems to be.)

extra reactions according to some of my aus (except it's all the bad ends and ooc??):

omegaverse

"...what the fuck?"

"WHAT'S A PHEROMONE?! ALPHA? THAT'S SO CRINGEY? WTF"

"GUYS!!! IVAN CAN BE PREGNANT-"

"-SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-"

"holy fuck"

"it was indeed a fuck"

"did you know ivan could moa-"

"fucking hell we're all tills we're all here we all know!"

"BLOOD! GET A TISSUE YOU FREAK-"

"HALF OF US HAVE NOSEBLEEDS WDYM"

"please please please till hE IS PREGNANT-"

"..."

"what the fuck."

"HE'S DEAD?"

"guys i don't ever wanna get ivan pregnant if that's what's going to happen"

android au

"...he owns ivan..?"

"THAT'S NOT FAIR?? WHAT DID HE EVER DO TO DESERVE IVAN??"

"surely they fall in love, right?"

"don't fucking jinx it, you moron!"

"ivan's so cute... look! he's cutting the veggies into flowers!"

"hey! till! say thank you to ivan!!"

"ugh, can't he just get out the studio so i can see ivan??"

"till, can't you just be a stay at home musician?!"

"aww!! aren't those flowers in the stitching?"

"oh my god ivan hand sewed him clothes?!"

"that's not fair! ivan! you can't just give things to the idiot! or else!! ...or else."

"...you fucking jinxed it!!! ivan!!! you can't die!"

"how'd i know that they'd just shoot and never stop shooting?"

"WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM??"

"i'll fucking BEAT THEM UP I SWEAR."

"??? why's he only just checked the cameras now since he got ivan?"

"...ivan's voice is so heavenly."

"..."

zombie au

"is it another boring one? haven't we already seen till and ivan have normal lives and drift apart or something else?"

"maybe this time, till will..."

"shut UP! CROW'S MOUTH, I SWEAR"

"nevermind that is nOT NORMAL FUCK"

"OH MY GOD HE IS ROTTING AND MOVING??"

"IVAN GET AWAY FROM THERE -"

"...ivan?"

"FUCK! HE DID IT AGAIN!"

"TILL YOU FUCKER GO BACK FOR HIM!!"

"...at least we still have ivan."

"...and till knows he loves ivan."

"...and they kissed."

".....oh fucking hell, why are you so happy?! ivan's basically till's dog! till doesn't deserve him!"

"well, as long as they cure ivan, they'll be together for real, right?"

"..."

"YOU FUCKING JINXED IT-"

"WHY'D THAT RANDO JUST SHOOT IVAN???

mermaid au

"oh my god he's a fish -"

"- ivan looks like a prince!"

"??? how can you be so rude to ivan!"

"why are his thoughts so weird? ivan's a human, not some pearl! he has dignity!"

"he's much better than some pearl, too."

"till knows he loves ivan, right??? surely??? with those thoughts..."

"i wanna see ivan's eyes...."

"i wanna see ivan's smile..."

"fuck! till, just speak to him god damnit!"

"oh my god!!! ivan!!!"

"??? where's his fishy parts?? ow, don't hit me-"

"...he looks so fine."

"hey! he's sixteen! you are definitely not sixteen, you fucking homewrecker!!"

"homewrecker?! i didn't cheat!!"

"you wrecked your and ivan's house life!"

"what?"

"where'd the letter come from??"

"how's there sea foam???"

"IVANNNN!"

"HE'S DEAD? JUST LIKE THAT?"

"HE DESERVED MORE YOU FUCKER-"

===

anyways im going to edit my masterlist to be better ig

[silverskyeline]

ੈ♡˳ 'birthday cake' - logan howlett x wade wilson

summary: logan buys wade a cake for his birthday and tries to convince himself it doesn't mean anything. (900 words) tags: kinda fluffy, kinda angsty, set a year after the movie, references to losing the x-men, feelings realisation, animal metaphors for logan, cussing, logan x wade. a/n: happy birthday deadpool!

birthdays. running a calloused hand across his stubbled jaw, logan eyes the cakes in the bakery aisle with disgust. when's the last time he celebrated a birthday? not since. . .

well.

not since.

he's not sure why he's here. except he is. yet he won't admit it. can't admit he gives a damn about that stupid red leather-wearing freak. isn't that what he's doing right now, though? a birthday cake, an admission of sorts?

logan grumbles, a deep rumble in the back of his throat. why was this so hard? why couldn't he just pick up a cake and go? or better yet, forget about this whole damn thing and go home?

home.

a word that still feels so foreign in his mind, a long-lost concept that's only recently begun to take root again despite his best efforts to weed it out. that's the thing with wade, he's persistent. fuck, he's extremely fucking persistent to a highly annoying degree. but it's funny how the things we want to deny the most are the things that turn out to be the best for us in the end.

there's a unicorn cake that catches his eye. an imperceptible smile tugs at the corner of logan's lips, a reluctant grin quirking up without permission. he can't help it. "god damn it," he mutters, letting out a soft exhale that could possibly be perceived as a laugh.

it isn't too late. he could back out now, snuff the candles out and toss the cake so hard into the garbage can that it explodes on impact, leaving no evidence behind. that'd probably be the best thing to do. because what the fuck was this?

the unicorn cake sits on the dining room table, a few candles placed carefully (yet still somehow messily) into the pink icing, thoughtfully avoiding the unicorn decorations and rainbows.

logan shuffles nervously on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. he can already hear wade's annoying squealing in his ear, fussing and yelling and talking and just always fucking talking.

he'd made a deliberate effort to ignore all of wade's incessant reminders, 'it's my birthday month peanut, gotta be nice to me', 'i made sure to cancel everything on your very empty calendar for my birthday'. but in reality, logan had it memorised from the moment he learned the date.

a key enters the door, and logan stiffens up, then forces himself to relax in an attempt to look nonchalant. he looks anything but, head tilted down with dark eyes glued to the door - watching, waiting, anticipating.

"holy fuck balls that traffic is ridiculous!" wade whines, closing the door and rolling his neck as though he'd been worked to the bone, "i swear, it's like none of those careless fuckers know it's my birthday - can you believe that? i was thinking about getting a tattoo, the date on my forehead, y'know, so that when anyone asks they-"

wade stops, finally looking into the open room, eyes landing on the flicker of the candles. then to logan, eyes softening. "you. . . got me a cake?" wade whispers in the softest tone logan's ever heard from him, voice thick with emotion. it hits him unexpectedly.

logan puffs his chest out, "don't make a big deal outta it, bub." he says firmly, eyes straying from wade's gaze. feels like his eyes are boring into him, he doesn't like it. doesn't like the way wade looks at him, really looks at him. that kinda look is dangerous, could make a man believe he deserves to be forgiven for all he did or didn't do. could make a man believe that he's allowed happiness, however strange or unusual that source of happiness may be.

when logan's eyes trail back to meet wade's, he's already in front of him, arms wrapping around him in a tight hug as he rests his cheek against his broad chest. logan huffs, making a sound of disapproval initially, yet makes no effort to move or push him away. instead, he settles, allowing it.

he knows wade must hear his heartbeat, the fact that it's fluttering in his chest. but wade only squeezes his arms around him tighter in response.

for once, the merc with a mouth is silent, basking in this moment the other has allowed. he's almost in disbelief. to some, and hell, maybe even logan himself, it looked like. . . well, just a cake.

but it symbolised so much more than that.

if wade has had his hand outstretched all this time, approaching the skittish animal threatening to lash out in learned survival instincts - then this is the gentle nudge from the animal's snout into his palm. a curious, tentative step forward. a willingness to let someone in, let someone help.

and god, wade won't mess this up, won't disappoint, despite the fact that it's all he thought he was good for, for a long ass time. if logan's taught him anything, it's that life is so much more than what you boil yourself down to. it's what others see in you, too.

wade's eyes pop open when he feels logan's firm hands hesitantly rest upon his back, giving a gentle pat. he bites his tongue, a mirage of sex jokes slinging through his filth-riddled mind. perhaps in a way, that was his own defense mechanism, push him away with just enough jokes to keep him guessing.

but not today.

because today logan bought him a cake. the same day that logan realised that he's hopelessly, ridiculously, disgustingly, annoyingly. . . in love.

[buccini555]

𝐓𝐨𝐤𝐲𝐨 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬: "𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲"

˖ ࣪⭑You invited all your friends to your birthday party but only they came

♡ᵎ H e a d c a n o n s

𓂃 𓈒𓏸 ♡ 𝑭𝒕. Kazutora Hanemiya, Izana Kurokawa, Kakucho Hitto, Inui Seishu, Kokonoi Hajime, Sanzu Haruchiyo, Ran Haitani and Rindou Haitani

𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟷 | 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝.𝟸

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙ 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐚 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐢𝐲𝐚

Kazutora never cared about commemorative dates, despite that, your birthday was really special to him, for that reason, he would never miss your party.

The boy arrived a little later, realizing that no one had shown up at the place, as soon as he saw you sitting alone and crying compulsively, he felt terrible for not being able to do anything other than stay by your side.

"Hey? Don't cry.... I'm here for you, they don't deserve your tears." He wouldn't know very well how to act or what to say to comfort you, even so, Kazutora would remain by your side trying hard not to ruin you birthday complete.

"Happy birthday, let's not let those fuckers ruin your day." Kazutora would celebrate next to you, after that, he would definitely take you for a walk to distract you.

𝐈𝐳𝐚𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐮𝐫𝐨𝐤𝐚𝐰𝐚 ·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙

Izana would wait to buy the flowers he intended to give you at the last minute so they wouldn't wither, so he would end up being late, but as soon as he arrived a few minutes after the start of you party, the platinum hair boy realized that there was absolutely no one in the place and as soon as he saw you crying, he realized that none of the your friends had shown up.

"Who do those disgusting people think they are to make my sweet girl cry on her birthday? As soon as I make sure you're better, I'll wipe out everyone's race." Izana would give you the flowers and your gift, hugging you right after, he definitely wouldn't leave it cheap, however, at that moment, Izana's only real concern would be you.

In order not to let your party go unnoticed, he would celebrate with you, being affectionate like he had never been before and making you have fun until you forgot your fucking fake friends.

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙𝐊𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐨 𝐇𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐨

Kakucho would be the first to arrive at your birthday, showering you with gifts and kisses on your cheeks, as excited as he was for your presence, he couldn't help but notice that no one was arriving at your party.

"I'm so sorry those fucking idiots didn't come..." Kakucho would hug you immediately, then, holding your face and wiping off your tear-smeared makeup, he would say.

The tallest one definitely wouldn't allow them to ruin your day, so he kept you company and comforted you until you were excited again to celebrate.

"I would never let anyone ruin your birthday, my sweetheart, in fact, you look so cute eating your vanilla cake!" He would say with a smile on his face as he watched you closely, making sure that at least you were having enough fun to forget about those people.

𝐈𝐧𝐮𝐢 𝐒𝐞𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐮·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙

"Where are the rest of the guests? Wait... They didn't come? Fuck-... I'm so sorry, baby" Upon seeing your empty house, he would immediately question it, but soon Inui would realize that everyone refused to go to your party when you hugged him with tears in your eyes and smeared makeup.

"I'm sorry, we won't let them ruin such an important date, my princess." Inupi would leave your gift aside and hug you until you stopped crying, he felt bad that they ruined your birthday, so he promised himself not to make that date traumatic for you.

"You don't need those fake friends, we're fine celebrating alone, at least I'll try my best to make up for the absence of those fuckers." The blonde would be as loving as possible to cheer you up, you would share the cake and stay together talking throughout the night.

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙𝐊𝐨𝐤𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐢 𝐇𝐚𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐞

Kokonoi is extremely punctual to his schedule, for this reason, he would be the first to be on your birthday, but, when he realized that he was the only one to answer your invitation, his heart broke instantly.

"I'm sorry they didn't come, my lovely baby..." He would say seeing you crying over the party decorations, Kokonoi would hug you and slowly calm you down even though he was so distressed to see you breaking down in tears.

"How about we go celebrate your birthday somewhere else? At the mall! I promise to let you buy whatever you want." Koko would take you shopping, allowing you to spend as much money as you wanted.

"Let's make those ridiculous people regret trying to ruin your birthday." He would state as he showered you with kisses on your face.

𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐳𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐲𝐨·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙

Haruchiyo would be the first to arrive at your party, as time passed, he realized that no one else would show up and began to notice how much it had broken your heart.

"Hey, don't mind them... Let's enjoy your birthday together, okay?" He would say while hugging you, Sanzu would try to keep you as distracted as possiblepossible, being affectionate and trying to cheer you up.

You would sit together and eat all that cake and other food alone while Haruchiyo would tell you random things about his life to make you smile.

"...I don't know how these bastards could do this to someone as kind as you, but it doesn't matter, I'm here just for you." Sanzu would say as you wiped the whipped strawberry cream off your cheeks.

·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙𝐑𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢

Ran ended up oversleeping and was late, when he realized your party and saw your gift on the bedside table, he immediately got ready and went to your house.

"I was late but I'm here, baby." Ran would say, without noticing the empty environment, the taller boy only realized that no one had come to your party when you hugged him, crying and thanking him for coming.

"Of course I would come! Do you really think I would miss your party? No fucking way." He felt terrible that no one came, but since he was the only one at that party, he will try his best to give you a good birthday.

"At least there's more cake left for us, don't you think?" Ran would remain by your side, comforting you, to definitely cheer you up, during the night he would throw a huge party at his house together with Rindou.

𝐑𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐮 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐢·̩͙ ₊ ᨦ ♡ ᨩ ໋₊ ·̩͙

"...Did I arrive too early?" Rindou would question as soon as you opened the door and hugged him with tears in your eyes, at that moment, he would realize that no one came to your party.

"No one came, right? What disgusting people..." He would be embarrassed and mortally angry at the same time, but at least he felt obliged to cheer you up at all costs.

Rindou would give you your gift and comfort you, even though he wasn't the best at it, he intended not to ruin your birthday for good, being as affectionate as possible.

"We don't need those fuckers to celebrate your birthday, don't you think? We'll celebrate much better alone." He would definitely make sure to give you the best party ever, you would be together eating every last piece of cake and listening to music together all night.