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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Mistake -P4-

Mistake -P1- Mistake -P2- Mistake -P3 Mistake -P4- (Final)

Pairing: Finn Balor x Fem!Reader x Seth Rollins

Warning: Angst/Fluff, Make-up. Happy endings.

Word Count: 3,084

Summary: The match is scary, but who wins your heart? (Sorry if the summary sucked!)

A/N: I let you guys choose your ending because I couldn't decide who I wanted to end up with! Hope You Enjoy!

The day is here.

The day where Finn and Seth fight for you. You didn't want this to happen, but this is how it's gonna be.

You weren't gonna lie when you say that you still have a slight feeling for Seth. He was your first everything, but Finn on the other hand, was your everything. He picked up the pieces that Seth left and built you back up. He did everything, Seth couldn't imagine.

Too much was on your mind and the match was about to start. Triple H has convinced you to sit at ringside to spice the match up even more. You began walking to the gorilla, but was stopped by Becky. "Hey Y/n, can we talk real quick?" You took a deep breath and nodded your head. You haven't talked to Becky since the whole Seth incident the first time.

Y'all walked into a private room and she began talking. "In all seriousness, as a woman, I'm sorry for Seth. I don't mean to get in between it and before you ask, we were having an affair." You bit your lip, letting her talk before you said anything.

"We were only together because Vince told us too, but after he 'retired' and Triple H took over. He didn't like the idea of us beginning together." It was all making sense to you now. Becky didn't want to play the flirting game with Seth. She was doing it because it was her job.

“I'm not mad at you it's just...why didn't Seth say anything?" Becky only shrugged her shoulders not knowing the real thing. "I thought you knew, but if I knew that you didn't, I would've told you in a heartbeat." You nodded your head, forgiving her. "It's alright. Thank you for telling me." You two shared a hug before going back.

The conversation with Becky lifted a bit of weight off your shoulder, but now your music started to play. Fans cheered as you walked out, looking sad. Everyone could tell, you didn't want this to happen.

You sat at the commentary, greeting Michael Cole and Braxton. Braxton began reading off his notes of questions to ask. “Hello Y/n, how are you feeling about the upcoming match?" You sighed, shrugging your shoulders. "I don't know. I would've never thought two men or anyone would be fighting for my love."

Fans could agree on your statement. "Well, who do you want to win in this match?" You froze. You couldn't think of an answer. You loved Seth, but at the same time you loved Finn. "No comment." Just then, Seth's music started to play. Fans cheered/booed as he made his way to the ring.

Before he got in the ring, he came over to you and kissed your cheek, laughing. You didn't try to stop him, knowing it was probably the last kiss you'll ever get from a man. Finn's music was to play next and came out like he was playing no games. He walked over to you and kissed you on the LIPS.

You were just as shocked as everyone else as he walked in the ring. There were no taunts, no smiles, no laughs, just seriousness.

There were many scary moments that had you and fans on their feet, like when they would go under the ring and grab chairs or attempt to hit each other with their finishers. You would think it was the end of the match until one reversed. "Y/n, what will happen if Seth wins? Will you forgive him after the year he put you through?" You took a moment and thought hard at the question.

As your mother always said, 'Everyone deserves a second chance.' Maybe over the years he's changed and become a good guy. "I don't know, I might consider trying again." Fans gasped at your answer knowing Finn wouldn't be so happy if he lost.

If Seth Wins

The match had its ups and downs. With Seth hitting multiple curb stomps and pedigrees on Finn, but with failed attempts on covering, he decided to pull out the big guns. After he knocked Finn down for a while, he grabbed two tables and stacked them on top of each other.

He couldn't believe he was doing this, but when you fight for something you want, you will do anything to get it, especially when it's you.

He dragged Finn over to the ropes and stood up with him in a pedigree position. He jumped, successfully hitting the finish. He looked at you, dead in the eyes, pinning him for the win. It was like silence came over the arena as your mouth dropped open.

You could believe Seth won and it wasn't that you doubted him, it was that you didn't think he would fight so hard and go to the length he did. Your body froze in time as you heard the ring announcer, saying that he was the winner. You couldn't take it anymore, getting up and running backstage.

Fans watched in anticipation, as Seth chased after you. You tried closing the door to a locker room, but Seth was quick to grab the door. "Hey, I won my match, you saw me out there and that means you're mine now." His heavy breathing was the only thing heard in the room as you looked at him.

“Look, I know that I've hurt you in the past, but I'm trying to get better, I'm trying to make you see like the man I couldn't be a year ago." You listened to his speech, thinking he really might change. "I just want you to give me a another change so you can see how I'm the perfect man for you like you are the woman for me." He grabbed both your hands, ignoring how hot and sweaty they were in your soft ones. "Please, give me another chance."

You looked in his eyes, seeing sadness in them. You wanted to believe him so much, but the thoughts of last time came to mind. "How do I know you're telling the truth? Becky told me about the Vince- storyline thing. Why didn't you tell me?" The hurt in your voice was evident as you looked at him for answers.

He was only quiet, not responding. "Why Seth? Why keep that from me? We could've been together if you just told me from the beginning!" He sighed, knowing you had a good point. "I-I know and I'm sorry for-" You harshly took your hands out of his. "You can't just keep apologizing, if you're not gonna show me!” You were tired of him saying how sorry he was, but not doing anything to show it.

Seth held back an annoyed breath. “And that's what I want. A chance to prove to you and show you I changed." You took a deep breath, taking in all of this. You could give him another chance. "Okay. One chance." Seth huffed out in relief, throwing his bed back.

He brought your hand to his mouth, kissing them furiously. "Thank you, thank you so much, I promise I won't let you down." You two stood there for a moment, looking at each other as you could hear the fans in the arena.

Seth began to lean forward, and bring you into a kiss, but then stopped after realizing what he was doing. "S-sorry." You nodded your head looking at the ground. "Just, baby steps. Let's take it slow." 'Baby steps', Seth repeated, putting his forehead against yours. It was gonna take a lot of time to get used to this, but just go slow and make progress each day.

After the whole 'make-up' thing you decided to go talk to Finn. He was talking with Bayley. "Hey Bay, can I talk to Finn for a moment?" She agreed, walking away to give y'all privacy. "I'm sorry." You don't know what you were apologizing for, but you felt bad leaving him for your ex.

“It's alright, you have chemistry with him. I saw it coming though, I could tell you still loved him the moment we could be here together." More guilt filled you as he spoke. “I'm sorry! I wasn't using you, I truly did love you, but when I saw him, it was like all the feelings came back. I just really hope we can still be friends." You let a little smile form on your face at the thought.

“Yeah. Friends." He pulled you in a hug, giving you one last kiss on the forehead. Everything worked out how it should've.

If Finn Wins

Finn and Seth came back and forth at every hit. They were fighting like no before and it was just until Finn and Seth were on the ladder they brought in earlier in the match. They fought for balance, lunch after lunch and kick after kick, and it was when Finn won the hits.

Finn took the opportunity to climb the ladder and risked it all, hitting a and pinning for the win. As his music played you had a slight smile on your face. Your man won. Although you did feel bad for Seth, he had it coming, considering he tried fighting for you, knowing that you moved on. You excitedly got out of your chair and slid into the ring.

You helped Finn up and raised his arm in victory. Finn held his ribs in pain, struggling to stand up. You helped him out the ring and walked up the ramp, not sparing a glance at Seth. You two walked to the medical room where doctors got to work, looking over him.

You watched in silence as he would flinch at every time they touched his ribs. His ribs looked swollen and red and you could tell they were gonna form a purple bruise over time. The doctors began wrapping his ribs, but you stopped him. “It’s alright, I got it.” He nodded his head before walking out, leaving you two alone. The silence was awkward, knowing he just won a match with you on the line as the prize.

You touched one part of his ribs, making him flinch. “I’m sorry! Did I hurt you? Finn shook his head, letting you continue. “Thank you for winning. I know you didn’t have to fight for me, but it shows how much you love me.” Finn smiled, hearing you thank him. He thought you would want to leave him.

“Don’t thank me. I chose you to date and I’m not letting you go to your ex, that can’t get I’ve the fact you moved on. He fucked up y’all’s relationship.” You nodded your head in agreement, ripping the bandageds, after finishing his ribs. “You know I love you right?” Finn let out a little chuckle. “Of course I do, otherwise you wouldn’t be in here helping my old ass heal.” You laughed, making Finn smile.

It was his favorite thing to hear. (other than your moan, when he pounds into-) “Do you believe the messages. Y’know, with Baron?” Finn thoughts for a moment. They were coming from your phone and there was even a picture to prove it all. “I wanna say no, but the picture. God the picture was too real to be photoshopped.”

You answered, telling the truth. “He did kiss me and I’m sorry for not telling you. I was so scared that you would blame me as a cheater and-” Finn stopped you, by holding your hand. “Hey, breathe. Breath for me, My Love.” You listened to him, doing the technique he taught you.

He took a deep breath, getting ready for what he was about to say. “I would never, ever accuse you of cheating on me. I know what he did to you and so would never believe you would go back with him. Your not stupid, Y/n. You're a smart, intelligent, independent woman and I know that you love me.” You felt tears coming to your eyes, from his mini-speech.

He just poured his heart out to you, explaining why he would always trust you. “Finn, I-” You couldn’t even form a sentence, knowing whatever the next word will come out will be cut off with a sob. “You are too good to me. Please forgive me! I promise none of this will ever happen again and I’m sorry for bringing you into this mess.”

Finn tiled your head up with his finger. “It’s not your fault, okay? It’s Baron. He’s been going around here for years, being the grinch messing up whatever happiness has to be involved with.” You knew that was right, but something inside of you, blamed yourself.

“I wanna be with you, Y/n and I know you see it. We just need to communicate more, but other than that, we can work this out if you agree.” You didn’t even have to think about it. “Yes, of course! Thank you!” You gently hugged him, not caring about his sweaty body.

He pulled you into a kiss, happy he got his Love back.

If Both Win?

Finn and Seth were fighting hard. They fighted like their life depended on everything and it did. It was all for you and you still couldn't get over it. They had very good moments in between, where they would be so close to winning, but all it took was a kick out to stop it.

They were currently fighting on a ladder for height. You watched, scarily as the ladder would shake at every hit. All of a sudden, Baron came out with something in his hand. He slid in the ring, pushing the ladder over. Both Finn and Seth fell to the ground in pain. Baron picked them up and with his fist were bald up, he hit them.

You then saw that they were brass knuckles. That sneaky bitch. Baron hit Finn then Seth before making them pin each other. And with their bodies tired and in pain, they didn't kick out. Confusion spread across your face as it was announced as Finn and Seth being the winners.

Technically neither of them won, so they don't get you? This is exactly what Baron wanted. For you to be alone, but you're not gonna give him that satisfaction. You walked inside the ring, helping each boy up and raising their hands in victory. Fans cheered while Baron's eyebrows furrowed.

His plan didn't work! You grabbed a microphone and began speaking. "Baron, you thought that would work?" You laughed, making everyone confused. "You see, Baron. If you thought smarter and not harder, you would know that I didn't want to choose. I want both, so with you doing this." You pointed between all three. "You did me a favor."

Gasped and cheers came around the arena, hearing you admit that. The truth was, you were gonna choose both, but Triple H said spice up the match and this is a very great way. The boys looked at you and each other not knowing what to think of your statement.

Baron began stomping on the ramp, yelling as fans laughed at him getting pissed. He didn’t want to see you happy and you didn’t know why. “Everyone says, ‘Thank you Corbin’ on 3.” The countdown began and once it hit 3, everyone chanted ‘Thank you, Corbin’ to Baron. He stomped his mad ass backstage while you looked at Finn and Seth.

You felt bad for everything and in the end, no one won. You were thinking about what you just said moments ago about dating the two of them. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea. You don’t have to choose and you don’t have to lose no one. Without thinking, you leaned in and grabbed Finn and kissed him.

Fans cheered as he gently held your face, deepening the kiss. You then pulled back and did the same to Seth making the crowd go even crazier. You pulled back and raised their arms up before making your eyes backstage.

Now it’s time for the confrontation. The men began walking away toward their locker rooms, but you didn’t let them get far. “Wait, Seth. Finn.” They stopped in their tracks and walked to you. “I wasn’t joking with what I said out there.” You played with your nails, nervous for what you were about to say. “I want to be with you both. I don’t wanna choose and it’s only up for you both to decide. I totally understand if you don’t-”

Finn cut you off by putting his index finger on your lips. “Love, I wanna be with you and you know that. Why else would I fight for you? Not only do I wanna be with you, but Seth does too.” You looked over at Seth seeing him shaking his head, agreeing. “It’s clear we both want you and for you to go out there and say what you said and do what you did. It means a lot to us.” Seth said, making you look at them in shock.

You didn’t think they would be so calm. “Me and Seth talked after the night I accepted the challenge and we came to agreement that we would talk to you about dating both of us, but it seems you already beat us to it.” Finn explained, making you smile. “Do you want this, Y/n? Just think about dating two men and tell us, Yes or No.” Seth was making you think hard on that question.

You’ve never been in a poly relationship before and you’ve never considered trying it, but you want both men and their mouths want you, so why not give it a try. “Yes. Yes I want this. I want you Seth and you Finn.” The men smiled, ignoring the pain and hugged you. It was official.

Pulling your phone, you snapped a photo and later to your Twitter and Instagram. It was a picture of Finn and Seth kissing each cheek on your face. “Alright, let’s go get you boys checked up and then we can head to the hotel.”

Everything was gonna be just fine.

Thank you for staying with me and being patient for working on this mini series! I’m sorry for taking so long to post each story and I promise I’ll try better in the future.

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Him & I (chp 3 snippet)

Ao3 < link

Not every girl is a damsel in distress, unfortunately for two women jumpers you were their last stop. A cheating husband, a widowed bodyguard and a malevolent fling of the past who owes a favour isn’t a combination for the faint of heart. AU.

Gojo Satoru x Reader X Sukuna Ryomen

Warnings: 18+ mentions of sex & sexual theme . Sukuna is a warning.

“Satoru I have to go,”

Gojo sucked his teeth refusing to look at you and turned away to walk down the hall, giving you a half assed waved over his shoulder. Disappointed because yet again you’d refuse to even give him a chance.

“Cya,”

He knew where you were going, he knew who you were going to and his feet took him to the classroom where he got visualise what he had running through his head.

His footsteps echoed down the empty halls because everyone else had left for the weekend to go do whatever plans that made them happy -with people who wanted to be with them besides him.

The sunsetting through the window gave the empty classroom a orange, ethereal glow.

Whilst Gojo watched you run up to the pink haired prick covered in tattoos waiting for you. His arms crossed as he looked up to the sky with some grumpy, bored ass look on his mug of a face, leaning against his matte black Harley Davidson.

Satoru snorted a laugh because it was fucking comical really, you wouldn’t go for him because he was what you considered a bad boy, the fuck boy kind yet you were okay with being around Sukuna Ryomen?

Hilariously fucking ironic.

A hand placed on Gojo’s shoulder but his blue eyes stayed fixed on Sukuna looking to you, giving you some kind of eye roll and staying in his position, you linking your hands behind your back and rocking onto your tip toes getting into his personal space that he didn’t lean away from.

Instead red eyes flickered to your mouth before back to your eyes and you suddenly laughed before rocking back to your feet and leaning away. You kept laughing, sure Gojo couldn’t hear it because of the distance but he could see it and it hurt.

Instead he heard Suguru behind him,

“You got it bad for her Satoru, let it go man.”

“Nah, she’s a pain in the ass. Just wanted someone to get mochi with this weekend. I’ll find another girl, not like s’difficult.”

Suguru rolled his eyes and returned his hand to step forward and watch the scene Gojo was watching.

“You know that’s probably why she’s distant from you, your inability to actually say something meaningful or genuinely show emotions is your own worst enemy.”

“Right, makes so much sense that Sukuna is the better option Suguru.”

The dark haired male shrugged in response, shoving his hands into his own pockets.

“Maybe not better Satoru, but how people feel is a personal thing. Besides Ryomen isn’t known for dick dipping.”

“Uh yeah ‘cause women are scared of him. He’s only known for being a sadist asshole, rumoured murderer and batshit crazy.”

“As you say, rumours.”

”I didn’t know there was a lil’Sukuna fan club. You wanna suck his dick too Suguru?”

Gojo rolled his eyes and turned away dismissively waving his head at Geto, who watched as you got on the back of Sukuna’s bike and he pulled out of the little secret alley on campus you always both met in on Friday’s.

“What idiot tattoos their face anyway.” Gojo grumbled as Suguru fell into step beside him, Gojo's hands shoved into his pockets and hunched his form to visually show his pouty behaviour.

“That’s what is concerning me, more are appearing, think the rumours are true?”

“What, that the dudes fryin’ people up and eating’em?”

“If he's eating cursed fingers it explains the marks, he’s trying to evolve.”

Gojo shrugged and straightened, side glancing at Geto with a small cocky smirk.

“Whatever, I’ll still beat him.”

Suguru threw his arm over Gojo’s neck putting him into a headlock.

”What have I said about gettin’ cocky Satoru? He’s already got the girl you are in love with. Speaking of which, we gonna get some Mochi?” Gojo groaned trying to twist out of the headlock, his glasses tilting on his face as he glared at his best friend.

“Piss off Suguru like hell am I doin’ a man date. And I ain’t in love with her,”

Suguru’s other fist rose to rub on Gojo’s head,

”Pft your eyes get all dreamy around her, it’s so cute.”

Gojo managed to release himself and shove Suguru aside giving him a half assed glare whilst ruffling his hair to straighten it back out.

Suguru laughed and caught up to his best friend as he grumbled off down the hall again.

“It’s her birthday this weekend, is that why you wanted to take her?”

Yeah, it fucking was.

It was also so he could give you that stupid anklet you wanted to win at the local arcade you went to with him last week, you only went with him because Suguru was also there, only to ‘conveniently’ leave because he had forgotten errands to run.

Geto Suguru, a true bro and wingman!

Gojo fidgeted with said anklet in his pocket, it was so cheap and crappy, he doubted it was even plated to make it last in water. It was just some gold chain with a little crescent moon upside down on it, he was almost embarrassed that he went back and skipped class to win it for you. But if you looked at him like you did the day you saw it, when he gave it to you, he’d forget about the embarrassment of going there alone to get it.

Your arms wrapped around Sukuna’s waist, your hands skimmed over his muscle under the thin T-shirt. He would always roll his eyes when you’d shove your hands under his top, but you knew it was a small action he liked.

The whole drive here you’d been dipping your fingers between the lines of his muscles, drawing patterns mindlessly with your chin on his shoulder or against his back.

You felt him flexing whenever he turned the bike, cutting a corner sharper than he should have or to suddenly speed up and weave dangerously through traffic. He’d only laugh when you gripped him tighter.

You also felt him flex, you’d seen his hands on the bike grip the handles, his biceps would move under his movement, when you leaned up to mutter in his ear about what would happen when you got there. His jaw tightened, his frown deepened as he put up with your mutterings and ideas, using his focus on driving to your advantage.

You shifted on the back of his matte black Harley Davison as it roared under you, pulling to a stop outside,Sukuna planted his foot to stop it tilting over.

When you got here he’d do the same as he always did, he’d pull you into the abandoned house impatiently dragging you up the stairs into what used to be someone’s bed room.

He’d take you to the pile of fresh blankets and pillows that had built up over time from each visit you both came to, right under a window that took up most the length of the wall from the ceiling to the floor.

Then he’d fuck you there until he was spent, from the day he took your virginity to the last day you’d see each other -this was how every Friday night was spent for almost a year and a half. It wasn’t a relationship, it wasn’t anything that would last -you told yourself this but it never fully stopped the fall into comfort that each visit pushed you to.

You'd seen so many sunset views from the ridiculously long window it gave the view of the horizon that laid beyond the fields of green. You’d lay there bare, cushioned by pillows and blankets, you’d lay between his legs thoughtlessly tracing the tattoos on his abdomen or chest. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable and you started to wonder if this was his own way of escaping the secret life he led.

“You keep getting new ones?”

His chin rested in the palm of his hand, elbow balanced on a range of pillows that gathered in the corner between the window and wall he leaned against. He glanced at you but you could see the distance in his eyes, he was looking at you but his mind was else where, every visit before the last he grew more distance, more distracted.

“Part of the process." He mumbled before turning his eyes back out to the view of the sunsetting.

“Process?”

Sukuna sighed heavily like the conversation itself was taxing his existence.

“Your curiosity isn’t welcome, your mouth has one use and questioning me isn't one of them, know your place."

You rolled you eyes as you sat up onto your hands and knees before him,

"I know my place,"

Sukuna hummed and side glanced at you, a smirk twitched at his mouth but he fought it down.

"Under you, preferably knees to my shoulders."

Sukuna barked a laugh before turning to face you, red eyes dancing in the glow of sunset, his smirk spreading across his face was getting more inhuman with each week passing. He leaned forward and reached for you to grip your chin, causing your lips to pout at the harsh grip squishing your cheeks together.

"Pathetic, you’re so needy," his hand glided skimming your cheek which you leaned into, his fingers thread through your hair before bunching it under his grip and forced your face down to his semi hard dick, still glistening with cum from the previous round not 10 minutes ago, "-Get it hard then slut, then we'll get those knees to your fucking shoulders hmm?"

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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misbehaving — chapter eight

<- chapter seven | chapter eight | chapter nine ->

chapter 08: two can keep a secret [ series masterlist ] + gojo x f!reader / sukuna x f!reader; wc 6.3k

summary: life being engaged to sukuna is off to a bumpy start, and you find out that you and sukuna are not the only ones heavily invested in it. (or — in which moves are being made behind the scenes that neither of you are privy to.)

+ cw mentions of trauma/death, sukuna is really horrible with expressing his feelings, slightly soft sukuna this time hehe, naoya is… naoya; slight smut.

notes: okay lemme give you a guys a real break from the current drama! let’s let yn and sukuna have a good time while they can okay ;)

“I don’t fucking get it, what’s wrong with you?”

It had been like that for the longest time. Gojo couldn’t recall when the last time his parents got along was. Everything was peachy until dad took over the company, that was all he knew.

Mom had gotten a little more distracted too; though he didn’t know why.

Ever since then it was just a lot of fighting. A lot of cussing. A lot of obligations.

Gojo heard everything through the walls. It always happened in his father’s study. He couldn’t hear every single detail, but it was always about work.

Work. And family. And whatever else except their love for each other because it seemed like however much they had for each other, it had vanished.

He missed it.

The doors to the study opened and closed, and he could hear his own mother stifling her sobs.

Slowly, he opened his bedroom door, greeted with the sight of her wiping away her tears, pretending like she was fine. Her hair was disheveled, her makeup smeared.

“You don’t have to pretend.”

She smiled at him, like she always did, “you sound pretty wise for a kid, don’t you?”

“Yeah, I’m Gojo Satoru, after all,” and he mimicked her smile.

Her hands reached out, hugging her little boy in her arms, rocking him just slightly. “When you grow up, you be a good man, okay, Satoru?”

Gojo didn’t promise anything.

“What do you and dad always fight about?”

She stilled slightly at that question, like she didn’t know what to say, whether to say anything at all. Her eyes fluttered all over, like she was checking the surroundings, as if she was making sure his father wasn’t suddenly outside.

“It’s nothing,” was the response she settled for.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Gojo was insistent, even back then.

“What are you doing up past your bedtime?”

The two of them spun their heads around to see Grandpa Gojo walking up the stairs, a warm smile on his face, though it dampened upon seeing the upset in his daughter-in-law’s eyes.

“Goodness,” he sighed as he got to the top of the stairs, sauntering over to them. “Did my son do something to upset you again?”

She pressed her lips into a firm line, “no, no we’re absolutely fine.” And Gojo never understood why his mother always acted like such a dutiful wife in front of everyone. If his father had done something wrong to her, she should say something.

Gojo and his grandfather would definitely take her side.

“Why don’t you go back to bed, okay, Satoru?” She suggested, pushing Gojo back into his room even if he resisted. She followed him all the way to his bed, tucking him in. “Go to sleep okay? Tomorrow I’ll take you somewhere fun.”

Gojo’s expression perked up at the mention of the word fun. It was something he rarely got even as a kid. “Where?”

She kissed his forehead, winking at him, “it’s a secret.”

And what was a tranquil scene ended with the scream of a woman. Something he didn’t really hear but envisioned ever since the incident.

The incident that killed his mother right after that night.

And suddenly Gojo stirs awake, panting heavily, white hair matted to the side of his head.

It was just a dream. A flashback of a time back when that he doesn’t want to remember.

It’s been a long time since he had that dream. A few years, at least. Stuff of nightmares. Instinctively, his hand reaches for his phone on the nightstand, fingers automatically typing for your contact.

But he stops right before he presses the call button.

He can’t.

No matter how close you were as friends, it’s inappropriate. You’re about to marry someone else. Someone you really love.

It’s wrong to have your past calling you up at 4am in the fucking morning over some stupid fucking nightmare.

So he tosses his phone aside.

The bed feels a little too big. And his heart feels a little too overwhelmed. Maybe if he had listened to his mother, you wouldn’t be with someone else.

If he had been a good person like she asked for him to, maybe you’d still be here.

A tear rolls down his cheek.

He misses his mother. He misses you. He misses how everything used to be. If she met you, she’d love you, and maybe he wouldn’t have had to pretend he never loved you.

The sadistic part of him wishes it was his father who perished instead.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t know what to do.

A lot’s changed within the span of a week.

You’re engaged now, apparently. To the man you love. Which should be a happy occasion, but considering you haven’t properly spoken since that day of the dinner party, you’re not so sure.

It’s not for Sukuna’s lack of trying, because he is. He’s actually actively trying. You’re just not that responsive.

A part of you wants to celebrate getting engaged to him because you love him, and he loves you. But there’s the other part of you that’s in doubt.

Does he really want to get married to you?

Or is it just a spur of the moment thing? Like that night you met?

Maybe it’s because his answer might disappoint you, and that’s why you haven’t asked even though you really, really want to.

Your phone vibrates and it’s from Sukuna—you don’t even have to look at it to know. He’s been texting a lot lately, out of guilt or actual affection you don’t know.

Maybe a mix of the two.

Sukuna: I’ll pick you up at six.

As usual. Because now he’s playing the part of devoted fiancé very well.

He gets up and brews coffee before you’re even out of bed. He drives you to work and drives you back. He helps with the laundry and the keyword here is helps, because he doesn’t actually know how to do it well. He’s getting the hang of it, though.

But you leave him on read.

As usual.

And it’s not like you want to torment him. But ever since the night he proposed to someone else, you’d gotten such an uneasy feeling that you’re not sure how to quell.

You’d hoped to be able to see Toji this week, talk to him about your situation and see what kind of sagely advice he has to offer.

But he hasn’t been to the office even once this week.

Not just that, he hasn’t even responded to any of your texts or emails.

No one seems to know where he’s gone or what he’s up to. You’d even tried Megumi, and it was a surprise finding out that he’d been staying with Satoru since the party (to Megumi’s dismay).

You’re surprised you’ve still got a job at all, considering your boss is missing in action. The even bigger surprise is that nothing’s happened to you yet, despite Sukuna warning you that Naobito’s petty ass might come after you.

You’re so engrossed in your own thoughts you don’t realise that the idle chatter in the background has subsided into utter silence.

He owns this company, why aren’t you fired yet?

Just when you think the heavens might be smiling on you, you hear a very familiar voice that almost has you hurling out the croissants you had for breakfast.

“Hey Y/N,” the person greets cheerily, casually.

You turn to look up at him, wide eyes and a genuinely concerned expression on your face, “Naoya, what are you doing here?”

In front of you, he’s still as sharply-dressed as ever, white dress shirt paired with a black waistcoat, the most expensive watch you’ve ever seen hugging his wrist. His hair’s a little disheveled and he’s wiping the remainder of what seems to be a lipstick stain off the corner of his lip.

Naoya tilts his head questioningly at you before smiling mirthlessly. “Wanna grab lunch together?”

Turns out Naoya doesn’t take no for an answer.

Big surprise there.

“Order anything you want, I’m paying,” Naoya mutters absentmindedly, leaning back against the leather seats, eyes scanning over the menu. He barely pays you any mind, not bothering to ask you if you’ve decided before calling for the waiter.

He’s a regular here, you figure, when the waiter addresses him by name.

“I’ll get the usual, tell Chef Souka to put a little more of the miso sauce on there for me,” Naoya orders before nodding towards you.

Everything is way too expensive for your comfort, but your stomach’s growling and you really don’t want to have to listen to Naoya talk on an empty stomach.

You’d just end up puking bile.

“I’ll have the slow roasted lamb short rib and a glass of water, please,” you say curtly, eyeing the cheapest option on the menu, trying your best to sound like you belong in this setting.

Naoya smirks when you’re alone, “you’re not used to this, are you?”

No, not even after Sukuna has taken you to multiple high-end restaurants where you can’t even see the prices on the damn menu.

But damn is Naoya perceptive.

“What were you doing at the office?” You ask, switching the topic of conversation.

He doesn’t answer, only smiles in that humorless way he does, and then evades your question by making small talk.

Is he trying to evade a subject of his own too?

You’re almost done with your meal when you try asking again, “do you have business with Toji? If you do, he’s been busy lately so I’m afraid you won’t be able to catch him.”

Maybe he knows something you don’t; wouldn’t hurt to get information.

There’s only the clinking of silverware against plates for a while as Naoya seems to ponder for a moment on your sentence.

Several seconds later he just takes a sip of his wine. His second glass, because he’s not driving, which you know because you took a ride in his town limo—something much too luxurious for your comfort.

“You must not know yet.”

“Know of what, exactly?”

You eye him quizzically, and he only laughs, amused. “Oh you poor thing,” he says pitifully, a mocking gaze fixed upon you. “You don’t know that Toji left? Abandoned his position? Left his post without saying a word?”

For a moment it’s as though your brain is liquified into mush and is incapable of thinking. It’s just all silent and foreboding and you don’t even know why.

Is Toji leaving a sign that you should be too?

Or hey—get a grip—maybe he’s just doing this because he wants to, for no particular reason.

Yeah, you’re not convincing yourself of that.

“H-how long will he be gone?” You croak out, because now that you know Toji left, you’re realising fast that in the whirlwind that is the Zenin family, he and Sukuna have been your only forms of safety.

Toji has been good to you. He’s always been nice, protective. If anybody gave you shit he’d fuck them up and that’s why you know he likes you—as far as a boss can like his employee.

And now that you’re alone with Naoya, now that it’s dawning on you that you’re with the very person who’s made up of Naobito’s very genes, you suddenly grow afraid.

But you don’t let it show. Can’t.

Can’t give anyone a reason to lord over you. Sukuna’s words, not your own.

Naoya though, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to have a care in the world. He shrugs, “no idea, maybe a few weeks, maybe forever,” and he’s munching on some cake now. “Most of his stuff is gone though, didn’t even leave behind a note. Plus, nobody can get through to him.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, a damning realisation dawning upon you.

“W-what does that have to do with you being at the office?” You stutter out, still struggling to form coherent sentences in your head.

Naoya nods, smiling devilishly. “Ah, that.”

And something about the way he says it sends a shiver down your spine.

The bad kind.

He places the fork down elegantly on the table, shifting his body to sit down next to you, actions very much gentle yet dominating.

When the leather shifts under his weight, you can only feel the muscles under his sleeves pressing against the side of your arms and all you smell is bergamot, pepper—a little too much for your liking.

But when he speaks, you feel his hot breath fanning your ear and you forget everything else.

“Guess who’s your new boss, Y/N?”

True to his word, Naoya takes over Toji’s office right after lunch.

His first order of business is to cover up the glass doors in his office because he, quote, loves his privacy. Whatever that means.

You’re pretty sure you know what that means.

Next, he’s asked you to give a full run-down of everything that’s going on—from current state of affairs in the department to projects that Toji was handling in the past.

You are sceptical though.

In what world would Naoya make a better Head of People than Toji?

But then you get a glimpse of how he manages to slide into his fake smile and fake airs and you’re not that curious anymore. If anything, Naoya’s excellent at faking things. Though he doesn’t bother to hide his disgust at others.

Win some, lose some.

One thing you do know is that when he’s in work mode he’s a hundred percent serious. Doesn’t crack jokes like Toji does, much less a smile.

You miss Toji already.

Maybe you’ll break your silent war with Sukuna just to ask if he knows what’s going on.

“Y/N, leaving yet?”

Naoya’s voice breaks you out of your thoughts. Somehow you’ve managed to go the entire second half of the day with Naoya as your boss without trying to kill him. He’s been much tamer after the party though; nothing about Sukuna, nothing about cunning schemes or lecherous ideas.

It’s 5.59pm which means Sukuna’s probably already in the parking lot and he’s just waiting for 6pm to text you because strangely his messages always chime in at six on the dot.

It’s… cute.

“Yeah, I’ll be going soon, I’m just waiting for—”

“Sukuna?” Naoya smiles at you, cold and unfriendly but deceivingly warm.

“Uh, yeah.”

You’re not sure you really want to get into any topic that has to do with Sukuna that Naoya can think of.

“How’s married life?”

Topics like that.

“Wonderful,” you lie, mirroring a smile as fake as his own. You don’t want to give Sukuna a bad name even if you are still slightly mad at him. “I love him, so we make it work.”

Naoya smirks like he can see right through you, and you’re hoping it’s just that devil in your head talking.

At the same time, your phone vibrates, and like the hypocrite he is, the guy who enjoys his privacy completely ignores your own as he stretches to read the notification on your phone. It’s Sukuna, same as always.

I’m here, floor 6, you off work yet?

“Ah, what a coincidence, I’m parked there too,” Naoya hums, blinking at you. “Let’s go down together, hm?”

“You drove?”

“Yep, I just really hate driving during lunch traffic. So, what do you say?”

You really should say no.

But as you’ve already established, Naoya doesn’t take no for an answer. Causing a scene here is the last thing you want, with employees still lining the desks, buried in work.

“Fine, let’s go.”

Which usually wouldn’t be the way to talk to your boss, but screw it because Naoya’s not deserving of your customer service voice.

“You know,” Naoya speaks up once you’re in the elevator, his slender fingers moving past you to press the number six, “I didn’t think you’d actually agree to marry that bastard.”

The ride down from the forty-seventh floor suddenly seems like forever.

“I’d appreciate it if you don’t speak about my fiancé like that.”

Oh, look at that, he did manage to get your customer service voice out.

Naoya scoffs. “Believe me, princess, whatever you have with him won’t last.”

Despite still being angry at Sukuna, you’re not about to tolerate whatever this man is spitting about your supposed engagement. You’re sure that no matter how mad you are you won’t want to go back to life without that pink-haired smug-faced lover of yours.

You’d like to bite back at him, to insult him just as much as he insulted your relationship.

You’re not going to let anyone fuck with your man.

But as if he knows what you’re about to do, he corners you, renders you speechless before you can even talk back to him. Like he knows you fluster easy, like he knows you’re a rabbit in the presence of a lion.

Up close his features look sharper than they usually do, the dark tips of his hair tickling the edges of your face. He would look half decent if he wasn’t such a bad person. You don’t think you should listen to rumors but somehow when it comes to Naoya, you don’t think they’re untrue.

“When it crashes and burns, you can always come find me,” Naoya whispers, voice low and slow, sounding inviting but you know better. He means if you want to release stress, reduce anxiety, and what else exists in his head other than using women for their bodies?

There’s an edge in his voice that you don’t miss, that sounds more threatening—like he knows whatever you and Sukuna have isn’t going to last. Like he wants to destroy it.

Caught up in his intentions, neither of you realised the lift stopped moving seconds ago, opened to the sixth floor. Neither of you realise the pair of feet that’s stomping over, furious because from the wrong angle, it looks wrong.

And judging by the smirk on Naoya’s face, he intended for this to happen.

Lucky for you, you push him away before he can reach you, running to Sukuna the first chance you get and throwing your arms around his waist. In this proximity you can hear his heart drumming loudly in his chest, his arms twitching like he’s just about to punch Naoya in the face if you weren’t in the way.

“You lay your hands on her again and I’ll fucking end you,” Sukuna snarls, a protective arm around you.

All of a sudden you feel bad. You’ve been ignoring him for days, letting him take care of you all the same. Now he’s just seen Naoya cornering you in the elevator and probably got the wrong idea and yet he’s still taking care of you, still believes you.

Naoya chuckles, nose up in the air as he strolls casually to his car. “Don’t tell me what to do with my own assistant, Sukuna,” Naoya tells him, unlocking his car doors, eyes flicking up to meet his before he gets in, “and I won’t tell you what to do with your whore.”

It stings—stings to hear yourself talked about like that, but you remind yourself that it’s Naoya and he’s a piece of shit to everyone. He only puts on the mask when necessary and when it isn’t he doesn’t hold back.

Sukuna doesn’t like it either. If Naoya hadn’t driven off at that moment, he would’ve gotten himself a black eye and a few loose teeth.

“Did he touch you?” Sukuna asks, jaw clenched because he’s trying not to blow up in front of you.

“No.” You straighten yourself up, pulling away.

“Good then,” is all he says before leading the way back to his car, driver door still open from earlier.

You follow him, and now that you’re actually looking at him, you realise how broad his shoulders are, how sad his back looks.

Sukuna waits for you to reach the passenger side before he gets in, “you’re not a whore, by the way.”

You know that. He knows that. You really didn’t need the reminder. But then a weight lifts off your shoulders—Sukuna’s as romantic as a brick wall sometimes, and you realise that’s his way of trying to make you feel better.

Your frustration at Naoya’s comments meld away and for the first time in a week, you feel the repercussions of ignoring him—you miss him.

Miss the way he wraps you up in his arms at night. Miss the way he cooks with you because it turns out that he’s not a bad cook himself. Miss the way he mumbles lovingly into your ear, words only you can ever get out of him.

With a smile on your face, the first time he’d seen since the dinner party that’s enough to incite a light blush on his face, you call a ceasefire.

“Thanks, ‘Kuna.”

It’s odd.

You smiling. After what felt like an eternity of you ignoring him.

Fuck you. If you weren’t you then he would’ve never bothered with trying to get you to talk to him at all.

Fucker.

Love is such a pain in the ass. By extension he means you.

Who knows what else that fucker would’ve done to you if Sukuna wasn’t there?

Yeah, you’re a pain in the ass. And Sukuna would still do anything to protect you. He hates it so much. It feels like he has a leash around his neck that he doesn’t mind.

It’s so stupid.

“Nothing happened by the way.”

You’re murmuring. That means you’re either feeling shy or awkward. Maybe both, with the way you’ve been so blatantly ignoring him recently.

Sukuna has a hand on the wheel, the other hand resting against the side. It’s about another five minute drive to his apartment, and you’d spent about fifteen, twenty minutes in silence in his car.

How long did it take you to steel yourself and speak up?

He manages not to snicker out loud.

You’re so goddamn cute.

“I know,” he replies casually, both of you not looking at each other. “If he’d done anything to you you’d have fucked him up anyway.”

You giggle and god how he’s missed hearing that sound. “I’d have fucked him up?”

Sukuna nods, “mhm, and then I’d join in and we’d both kill him and be on the run for the rest of our lives.”

“Wow, living as fugitives huh? Sure we shouldn’t just turn ourselves in?”

“Nah,” and this time, Sukuna turns to look at you, placing his big hand on your thigh. “If we do then I can’t see you again, and I don’t think I can live with that.”

Fucking hell, if anyone were to tell him two years ago that he’d be saying this corny shit to someone and actually mean it, he’d probably laugh in their face.

Oh, he fucking hates you. But he also fucking likes you. Maybe he loves you. Maybe one day he’ll admit it to you.

You’re silent at that comment, but you’re looking out the window and your thighs are rubbing together and that’s all Sukuna needs to notice to know you don’t completely hate that idea.

The idea of being stuck with him forever.

When he parks the car and leads the way back up to his house, you’re still quiet. Sukuna wants to know what’s on your mind, but he doesn’t actually know how to do shit like this.

Shit like trying to comfort a girl. Shit like trying to appease someone who’s angry at him. It was never something he bothered with until he met you.

It’s. So. Stupid.

And he’s heard of having the talk before. But he didn’t actually think it’ll ever happen to him. No commitments or whatever until now. Until you. Until you turned his fucking life upside down. Or maybe he did that to you.

Whatever.

“Are you… okay now?” He asks as the both of you get through the front door.

It’s a lame question, or a lame way to start it, but hey, it’s all he’s got for now.

You’re sighing as you dump your work bag onto the sofa, and Sukuna can already feel his stomach doing flips. A sigh is not a good sign, nope. Not unless you’re on your back and his tongue is between your legs. Nope, every other occasion—a sigh from you is bad.

“I don’t know,” you answer truthfully, shrugging. This time, you look him in the eyes.

Maybe it’s because you miss him, maybe it’s because you love him, but you can’t hide your disappointment anymore at how everything in the dinner party played out.

Sure, he chose you. But he almost chose someone else. Despite everything.

After the party you had been too exhausted to talk, spent the entire car ride home just pondering everything, then you’d been putting it off ever since. And by your guess, Sukuna probably didn’t know why you were mad, or more likely—he didn’t want to broach the subject either.

“Is it because of Mei Mei?”

“No, it’s not because of her,” you snap back, because technically, she was only involved in it. And you don’t know her, you can’t care enough about her if you tried. “It’s what you did!”

Just like that, everything you’d been holding back is bubbling onto the surface.

Sukuna’s seen you cry before. Over Gojo. Over fictional characters dying. But he’s never actually seen you cry because of him. And somehow, it makes him sick.

You shouldn’t be crying. You shouldn’t ever be crying.

For the first time in his damn life, he doesn’t know what to say. An apology’s not going to cut it. An explanation would be moot. What else can he even do?

“I can’t help thinking, what if you went through with it?”

He doesn’t think he’s ever heard you sound so broken.

“But I didn’t—”

“But you asked her to marry you!”

This argument is way past its due. You should’ve spoken up that night, but looks like the both of you should’ve done things that night that you didn’t. Sukuna didn’t bring it up either. Nothing about what he meant by protecting you, although you can guess for yourself.

Ruining Naobito’s plans doesn’t come at a price.

You’re guessing that’s what Naoya is for. Exacting revenge. However the fuck he wants to do it.

“I know, I know, okay? I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight and I’m sorry, I’m fucking sorry,” and it’s flying out of his mouth because he’s actually afraid of losing you. He can feel it emanating throughout his body—you’re never one to do anything rash but he’s still afraid.

It doesn’t make sense.

All his head is telling him is that yeah, you still love him, that this is just a rough patch.

So why is he so fucking afraid? He’s more afraid than he’ll probably ever let you know, but he’s already showing more than he ever thought he would.

Sukuna’s arms reach out for you before he even knows it, pulling you to him, and he holds you there, tight. You’re sobbing into his chest and you’re pretty sure this is the most emotion he’s ever shown to you.

The smell of your hair and your perfume fills his senses, and he’s not sure he ever wants to smell anything else except you.

“Sorry doesn’t mean shit, Sukuna,” you sniffle against his chest, though your words lack the bite that they should.

You can’t hate him, even if it’d make everything easier. If you hated him then you wouldn’t have all this doubt in your head—doubt about why he proposed to you in the first place, doubt about your place in his life.

“D-did you just propose to me because you wanted out of that situation?” You sob out, and that’s when Sukuna realises, for once, the gravity of his actions.

Is this what it means when you like him? That every single thing might affect you?

Yeah, love sucks.

But you’re stuck in it together, he supposes.

You’re still sobbing, and he’s still holding you. Still as tight as ever. He’s never fucking letting you go.

And maybe there is nothing else he can do about what’s already done. But he can still make whatever comes better. Or try, at least.

He doesn’t know shit.

“I did that because I wanted to, dumbass,” he tells you, and he’s sure that even after this you’d still doubt yourself, but if he has to repeat himself then he’ll do it. If it’s you, he’ll probably do anything.

You’re so stupid, you have so much power over him and you can’t see it. But he supposes that’s his fault, so he’ll perk you back up. He doesn’t want you reverting back to who you were when you were so bent over Gojo; that’s not you.

You are fun, and feisty and hot as fuck with a spunky attitude to match and the last thing Sukuna wants to see is you being broken down and timid and unnatural.

“You proposed to me because you… wanted to?” And it’s that voice of yours; you’re afraid he’s just pulling one over you. Even though he can tell your mood’s lifted up a bit hearing it.

“Mmm, yeah,” he says, and you pull your head back and he can see the tears streaking down your face.

Sukuna sighs, you’re pretty even when you cry, but it’s not a sight he wants to see.

His thumb comes up and wipes your tears away, and he looks so serene that you nearly forget why you’re upset in the first place. Serene in a different way than Satoru does.

Satoru is always angelic, with a smile to match. He looks like a product of the favoritism of the heavens. He doesn’t even have to try.

Meanwhile, Sukuna looks menacing almost all the time, even when he isn’t trying. He rarely ever looks soft, always sharp angles and cutting gazes but not in this moment.

The gaze he gives you now is enough to make your heart melt because you don’t recall him ever looking at you this fondly. Something inside you resonates—you never want to let anyone else be on the receiving end of this.

You want to be the only one for him, and him to be the only one for you.

“I like you a lot, Y/N L/N,” Sukuna murmurs, lips hovering over yours, and you can’t help but grin because maybe it is really hard for him to admit that he loves you.

Because he does, and you can feel it. Even if he’s never said it to you.

“Is that so, Mr. Ryomen?”

Sukuna sucks in a breath, “you know what you do to me, don’t you?”

You give him a quick peck on the lips, leaving him wanting more. “Of course I do, baby,” you tell him, biting your lower lip. “But serious talk, if you ever pull anything like that again, we are done.”

It terrifies him how real this all is. That a single mistake like that could cost him the only person in his entire life who really loved him.

Guess that’s the risk.

“I promise you,” and he takes your face in his hands, that usual authoritative glint coming back to his eyes, “if I pull some shit like that again, you can cut my dick off.”

“You’re so stupid,” you laugh, and it’s infectious. The two of you just stand there, in the hallway, laughing with each other, both relieved beyond reason.

“You’re one to talk.” Sukuna pushes you gently against the wall, a hand around your throat—it’s always rough actions but gentle fingers. “You’re mine, got it?”

The way he looks at you is still so gentle. Gentle before it turns into a smirk because he still has trouble letting go and that’s okay with you. As far as you’re concerned, you have the rest of your life to torture him about it.

“Mhm, I am,” you say, and he grins in that little dopey way you like. With a light touch, you rest your fingers on his arm, trailing up to his fingers around your throat, guiding them up, winking at him as you bring his index finger to your mouth, sucking on it. “You’re mine too, got it?”

God, Sukuna never gets tired of this. You’re so fucking hot like this, knowing your fucking place, so high on a pedestal. He fucking wants you, and he thinks he’ll only ever want you.

“I’m all yours, baby,” he tells you, lips pressed against yours with urgency. “Only yours.”

And maybe you’ll make peace with this for now, that Sukuna hasn’t grown up in an easy environment, that it’s hard for him to admit what the average person can admit. You don’t think you should keep it in just because he can’t bring himself to say it yet.

So while he kisses you silly, pulls on your bottom lip with his teeth, hikes your skirt up past your waist, you breathe out a raspy I love you, heart on your sleeve and nervous and afraid.

Sukuna pauses for a sliver of a moment, searching your eyes, like he’s confused, like he’s struggling with himself.

You shush him, “you don’t have to tell me now.”

“But—” I don’t want you to leave, is what he means to say.

Because isn’t that what you’re expecting? A confession back? That if you don’t then you might just leave because that would mean some shit like you’re not at the same place?

“You wanna keep me?” You giggle, managing to read him just right.

“What kinda stupid question is that?” He asks you, taking the breath out of your lungs with his kiss again, savouring the taste of your lipgloss. You should already know the answer.

“I wanna keep you too,” you say, in between kisses, hands unbuttoning his shirt, both of you stumbling across the apartment trying to find the damn bedroom with your eyes closed. “I’ll wait, I know how you feel anyway.”

Sukuna chuckles, you smartass.

His fingers are teasing your clit through your underwear, and you’re already soaked. He groans when he slips under the waistband because you’re so fucking wet, so fucking good for him.

He missed you so fucking much.

The taste of your lips, the sensation of your touch, the sound of your moans. He wants you now, he wants you so bad.

“Fuck, I missed you so much, I need you so bad,” he breathes against your lips, pushing you down onto the bed. “Any idea how much I fucking missed this, hm?” His fingers press down on your clit, reducing you to a mess of gaspy moans under him.

Both of you are high off of each other, delirious as you strip naked, Sukuna getting on top of you, shifting you up and closer to the headboard like you weigh nothing. All the while kissing you like there’s no tomorrow.

Guess he really does miss you.

His fingers trail up your body, your chest arching up because you want him just as badly too. Sukuna pinches your bud gently, letting go of the kiss just to hear you moan before swallowing it himself.

“You drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?”

“Well, I learn from the best,” you tell him, cheekily, a grin on your face before he washes it over with a moan as he slips a finger inside you.

“What was that? Can’t hear you,” he teases.

This is a stark contrast to the past week and Sukuna’s drowning in the harmony of your salacious whimpering until your phone fucking rings.

Your eyes blow wide, forgetting the current situation, “fuck, I’m supposed to meet Shoko tonight!” And you wrestle out of bed, naked, reaching for your phone.

Sukuna’s more entertained than pissed, watching you fumble with your dress, trying to find the pockets.

It’s strange, all he cares about now is that the both of you are fine.

He sits on the edge of the bed, pulling you close to him, kissing your stomach as you continue to talk to Shoko on the phone. Sukuna gives you a tight slap on your ass, making you yelp and give some stupid excuse to your friend.

“I gotta go,” you tell him sheepishly, prying yourself away from his clutches, walking over to the closet to get yourself a change of clothes.

“Babe, really?” Sukuna groans, even though you’re barely paying attention.

“Yes, I haven’t met her in a while and I promised to find her tonight,” you say, putting on a simple dark floral dress. It’s a white lie—Shoko just heard that you got engaged all of a sudden and you think she deserves some proper explanation.

You don’t want her to worry too much.

Luckily, Sukuna never likes to pry. He just sighs and lays back down on the bed as you fish for your purse.

“Guess I’ll have to help myself then.”

Sukuna watches like a hawk as you saunter over to kiss him, a smirk on your face. “Mm, guess so, baby.”

“Come on, you can’t spare like—”

“Nope,” you interject, “how about after I come back tonight?”

“So you want me to fucking wait till you’re back like some sort of dog?” Sukuna scoffs.

You only grin. “Yep.”

He rolls his eyes, “whatever, have fun, stupid.”

Just before you close the door, you turn around to face him, “behave, babygirl.” And then you shut it in time to miss the pillow thrown at you.

Fucker, he thinks as he scrolls through his phone, trying to find some damn food to order because no you in the house tonight means no home cooked food and he’s actually starving.

What a difference a year makes. Last year you would’ve thought he was some crazy stupid menacing dog and here you are now, calling him your fucking babygirl.

Before he can decide on anything, a text comes in.

Sukuna. Tonight, same place.

Don’t tell Y/N.

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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⠀ — MOTH TO A FLAME ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

eren helps his best friend’s mom with some chores while she’s home alone. she helps him with things he hadn’t known he needed help with—but is more than willing to learn

cw :: age gap, boy next door trope, older!reader, afab!reader, cream pie, infidelity, morally grey, shower sex, virgin!eren, spitting, degradation, sloppy/rushed ending

eren’s not really sure where this all started.

he’d always thought that the stolen looks and the raised eyebrows were indicative of you just wanting to share mirth over your son’s idiocy—his best friend’s idiocy. jean was an idiot and it was often that you’d lock eyes with eren just to roll them again after some stupid pun jean had made or a dirty reference that nobody but him understood.

when your husband had gone overseas for a business trip, eren had assumed you kept inviting him over because you were lonely since jean had also decided to spend the summer abroad that year with his girlfriend.

you’d ask him to do some manual labor around the house, catch you staring when he was fixing up some old furniture for you, and even invited him to have a glass of wine when you’d ordered dinner for the both of you one night. your cheeks had been flushed red, hands running along his shoulders as you laughed at a joke he’d made and eren was fighting every cell in his body to not get absolutely rock hard. the way the strap of your satin camisole had dipped off of your shoulder, drawing his attention to the smooth curve of your shoulder, the swell of your breasts—he doesn’t think he formed a coherent thought that wasn’t sexually related, truthfully.

he doesn’t think he’s ever had to try so hard to not be, y’know, hard.

somehow, by the absolute skin of his teeth, he’d managed to leave your house without you finding out that he wanted to fuck you into your couch so hard it left you aching for weeks afterwards. as soon as he’d escaped into his room, his hand was wrapped around his cock, jerking himself off to the mere image of the straps of your top slipping off your shoulder, skin tinged pink from being wine drunk as your nipples peaked through your shirt.

the things he’d do to run his mouth along your breasts, to tug at your nipples with his teeth and bury his face in your tits. the thought torrents him to the edge, shirt clenched between his teeth as he leans his head back against the door—he hadn’t even made it to his bed before his pants were sagging to his knees and his cock was out, that was how badly he needed to touch himself.

eren had managed to avoid you for about three days after he’d jerked off to the thought of you. to the thought of how your hands would feel along his sides, what you’d sound like when he final—

three days was about all it took for him to end up back at your door. he was all but groveling at your feet, apologies spilling from his tongue that he’d just disappeared so suddenly, especially after promising to help clean your pool the night of what he’s calling ‘the incident’.

you’d laughed, head tilted to the side as you eyed eren’s slumped shoulders and what he assumed looked pathetic eyes. your eyes were twinkling with a look of mischief he’d seen so often before on his best friend and you opened your door wider to allow him into your home.

somewhere between that moment and now, eren had ended up shirtless and in his swim trunks, using the large catching net to pull leaves and any straggler bugs from the pool you owned in the backyard. he’d spent a lot of summers in this pool—dunking jean into it, bellyflopping so hard his stomach was red for days—and yet this was this was the first time he had ever seen you in a swimsuit before.

you were laid back in a sleek white lounge chair, body exposed as all you were wearing was a tight black bikini. a pair of sunglasses hid your view from him, and yet he could feel your gaze prickling along his skin no matter where he wandered around the pool. it was electrifying.

eren felt like a gazelle being stalked by a lioness.

“eren, darling,” you called, hand swirling a glass of amber liquid, “i think it’s time we take a break. want to come inside for a shower?”

his head jerked up, blinking quickly as he processed your request in his head. it felt like a trick question, but maybe he was just overthinking things now. your relationship with him had been friendly before, why was he so worried now that things would be different?

“yea, sure, thanks,” all of his responses since cleaning your pool had been stuttering, anxiously tripping over his words in an effort not to offend, “i ‘ppreciate it a lot.”

your nose scrunched a bit as your lips curled into a smile. your eyes were hidden and eren couldn’t tell what the smile meant, of if he thought it was sexy as all hell or not.

“oh, ‘course, ‘ren.” you leaned forward, hands hitting your ankles as you tilted your head up to look at him. he was trying really hard not to let his gaze slide from the curve of your lips to the way your tits looked in the bikini top you were wearing. the black top was dangerously close to revealing more skin than was sociably acceptable and heavens, eren wanted to slide his hands under the band to just grope you. “you can even use my shower if you want. got all sorts of fancy products in there you can use.”

his mouth was dry. he had to lick his lips a few times while he nodded before he could really respond. by that time you were already up and sliding the glass door that led inside open. he couldn’t tell if your hips were swaying more than normal just because he was horny. all he could do was follow after you as you went upstairs, like a moth to a flame.

your bedroom had a large king-sized bed in the middle of it. pressed up against a wall and bracketed by two small wooden nightstands, there were four posts of a dark oak that held up a large canopy that overlooked the bed. you were walking past it, a hand running across a dark red comforter as you led him into the bathroom.

“turn the knob all the way left for hot water,” the water hitting tiles was all he could heard beside the sound of your voice, “towels are in the bedroom so i’ll grab you one. just hop in whenever, okay?”

you had left the door open when you left, and eren awkwardly walked over to shut it so only a sliver of the bedroom was visible from where be stood. he didn’t want to mistake the signs that he was getting, since he was almost entirely sure the raised eyebrow you had sent his way was not an invitation to fuck you. he assumed it was just a part of your character, and he didn’t want to step over any boundaries you might lay down.

and yet, as he slid his swim trunks off of his hips and felt his semi-hard, and continually hardening, cock spring free, he just couldnt help but imagine what could be.

what could be if you would just let him touch you. he’s beyond positive that he could touch you in a way that your husband hadn’t in years. he could make you feel so much better than your husband has ever dreamed of making you feel. he was old and losing steam, but eren? eren was in his prime. he could fuck you for hours without stopping, eren could be the one to worship you as the goddess he thought you were. to him, you deserved to be cherished and touched and fucked in a way that he knows you haven’t ever been before.

his hand was sliding along his cock. the hot water of the shower was cascading down his neck and past his abs as he let it fasten his pace on his cock. his breathing was ragged as he closed his eyes and imagined your breasts with water falling down them, rivulets and streams of water curving along the swell of your tits and into your cleavage. the softest of moans fell from his lips as he rubbed his thumb over his tip, opposite hand unoccupied with his dick pressing against the white tiled wall.

he was jerked from his fantasy quickly when he felt a hand curl around his forearm.

somehow, without his notice, you’d managed to slip into the shower with him. your bikini was abandoned, body on full display as he gaped at you. your gaze was focused on his cock, both hands sliding along the hard ridges of his upper torso.

his mouth hung open, about to spill with apology after apology about how he was so sorry he was masturbating in your shower, how sorry he was that you’d caught him mid-fantasy of fucking you when your gaze slid to his eyes.

then down to his mouth.

eren wasn’t a straight-a student, but he knew what that meant.

dipping his head a bit, both of his hands found the curve of your waist. pushing forward, eren tipped his head low enough that he pressed his lips against yours. your hands flew to his shoulders as he caught a soft moan of yours with an open-mouthed kiss, tongues meeting in the middle and teeth clinking against each other awkwardly.

not letting that stop him, he curled an arm around the small of your back, his free hand sliding down go cup your ass. taking a handful of your ass, he moaned into your mouth as he squeezed as hard he could—his fingers were having trouble finding grip what with the continuing downpour of shower water, but nevertheless he made it work somehow. taking this as a sign, you hoisted a leg up, resting the crook of your knee at eren’s hip.

he was kissing you, open-mouthed and sloppy, lips touching any skin he was even remotely near. he was panting now, so overwhelmed with the idea that he was touching the woman he’d practically been in love with his entire youth, let alone kissing her and feeling her tits pressed against his chest.

“you’re sure?” he gasped, mouth not leaving the silky smooth of your skin. by this point, your head was tilted against the wall and he was teething gently at your neck as your hands tugged on his hair and left little crescent indents in his shoulders. “‘cause i don’t wanna- we can- we can stop, if you’re uncomf—”

“eren,” your voice was raspy, hands clenched in the flesh of his shoulders as your moans ricocheted off of the walls, “please, please don’t stop.”

he felt his dick harden and he bit your neck, sucking a red mark into the skin as he pushed you against the wall. he dipped his knees, hand curling under your standing leg and he applied pressure, taking your feet out from under you. using the wall as leverage, he tilted his hips back from where his cock was slotting and rubbing against your cunt. with the water and the arousal pooling from your pussy, the slide had felt so good that he almost didn’t want to pill it away.

almost.

pressing his tip to your cunt, he slid his hips forward, mouth hung open as felt a low groan pull from his throat. as badly as he wanted to savor the feeling of inching into your pussy and relish the feeling of losing his virginity, the water was making things so slick and before he knew it, his hips were snapping to meet flush with yours.

your nails were pressing so hard into his skin, he was sure that he was bleeding, but the soft whimpers and moans leaving your mouth as you squirmed against the shower tiles were making it worth it. “oh, fuck, eren, god, you’re so big—”

“s’cause you’re so—” his pulled back, words stuttering as he pushed his cock back into what he was considering heaven on earth, “you’re so fucking hot.”

your hand was snaking into his hair, tugging his head back as he focused all his energy into fucking your pussy as hard and as consistently as he could. every thrust into you was nirvana, and slowly before him a new religion was being created. every glance towards his cock meeting the wet hole of a cunt he was fucking, he could feel his moans spilling from his lips, could feel the soft praise he was spitting to you.

everywhere he could reach with his mouth—neck, lips, ears, collarbone—he was nipping with his teeth, sucking wet bruises and marks into your skin. your were barely comprehensible, but eren could just barely understand the words ‘please, please, spit in my mouth’ and who was he to deny?

the water at his back was cold compared to the wet warmth of your cunt, and with each snap of his hips he could feel himself rocketing towards the edge. it was with all his self control and then some that prevented him from coming.

he shifted, forearm coming under your ass to snake his free arm between the two of you. his hand curled under your jaw, tilting your head backwards against the tile again and using his thumb to open your jaw. he pressed his nose against yours, all the while keeping up a steady pace with his hips, as he whispered softly, “be a good girl and swallow it.”

your hands, that had been bracketed to his shoulders to keep from losing your balance, were wrapped around his wrist. your mouth was open still, eyes locked with as you nodded fervently. watching you, so obedient to him and so willing to listen to anything he did, god, he thought he got harder.

spitting into your mouth was easy, watching you swallow and grind your hips against his was hard.

growling softly, eren curled his hand around the back of your neck, taking all of your weight off the side of the shower and stepping out. there was something animalistic in the way he was feeling, primal in a way that he wanted to fuck you with better leverage. you gasped, arms wrapping around his neck and mouth attaching to his neck as he placed you down on the counter.

“god,” he gripped your hips tightly, turning you so the bend of your hips was into the edge of the counter top, “look at you.”

one hand slid up the curve of your spine, curling until he could get a firm grip at the underside of your head, pulling until you could see your own reflection in the mirror. his hand was firm on your waist, fucking into you from behind.

the sight of him fucking you—hips flush with yours every few seconds, watching the way your eyes fluttered every time he fucked you—was enough to press him deeper over the edge.

“oh fuck,” your moans were loud, unbothered by how much noise you were making, “oh god, fuck, let me come, please, oh, please!”

“fuck yea,” he grunted, hands coming to both hips as he furrowed his brow and concentrated harder on the pleasure he was feeling and the near burning sensation of himself nearing the edge—and quite possibly the aching sensation of his abs, “need you to come, just come, baby.”

the next few minutes were filled with the sounds of the shower running, hips smacking against hips, and soft moans leaving the both of your lips. eren wanted to pretend to be above it, but he was practically whining in your ear for how badly he wanted to come in you. it was like torture, being so close to coming and he was sure he was leaving bruises on your hips.

“‘m coming—!” less of a statement and more of an exclamation, your fingers gripped at the counter as your legs all but caved in on themselves.

fucking you through your orgasm, eren was only a few seconds behind you. he didn’t want to pull his cock out of your pussy, instead continuing to thrust shallowly as he finished coming. each thrust was accentuated with a grunt, hips stuttering and legs shaking slightly as he leaned his weight on your body, almost completely spent from fucking you.

breathing heavy, he pressed a kiss to your temple as he felt you heaving. the side of your face was pressed into the cool stone of the counter, but he could see the smile peaking out from the cover of your hair.

the perks of being younger and having a bit more stamina than anyone else that had ever fucked you, he knew that he could probably keep going all night. watching the way you were squirming, hips rubbing side to side slowly, he had a feeling you could, too. sliding his hands down your back and sides, he felt the slickness of the water against your skin. biting his lip, he pursed his lips, eyebrow raised as he whispered softly in your ear.

“ready to go again?”

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Anger of red

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Confidence of yellow

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Badass silver

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Everyone shut up

Ogre Benimaru

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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DIABLO

After watching The Slime Movie. I wanted Tumblrs opinion. Who is the better Devilish Servant?

Sebastian or Diablo?

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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Anyway, we started watching that anime called That Time I Got Reincarnated As A Slime and all we have to say about that is that Rimiru is absolutely gender!

For people who don't know, his human form in the world he resides in is literally "sexless" and also makes you ask "is that a boy or is that a girl??" and yet, for some reason, we end up always thinking "most people would mistake him as a girl if this were an actual person, probably?" but everyone calls him a boy. We think? But he is technically sexless. So like, we hate admitting this but everything about his "gender neutral/default" appearance and how it presents in-show in terms of the absolute fuckery this would cause if it was irl (even minutely) gives us the Happy Juice. :D

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missallsundayyy · 1 year

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sex & provocation — nozel silva

-> OCT. 13 : HATE SEX + BREATH PLAY

SUMMARY: usually hatred leads to fighting… in this case it leads to sex

WARNINGS: 18+ only, hate sex, breath play (choking), degradation, spanking, unprotected p in v

WC: 1.5k

a/n: no one asked for this, but it was a scenario I thought up that needed to be written lol

kinktober masterlist 2021!!

“If you did your job, our team wouldn’t have endured such an embarrassing loss.” Nozel’s voice resonates through the corridor, almost sounding proud for chiding you.

When Julius assigned you and Nozel to the same training team, your gut instinct was to refuse, but you understood his rationale: working together would give both of you the chance to resolve any animosity. Yet, here you are biting your tongue in case you say something regrettable.

“Please,” you laugh, ”let’s start blaming each other for our own faults.”

Nozel doesn’t know when to stop. He can’t. You have been scrutinized by this pain in the ass for a week now — the reasonable side of you is working overtime to keep from being driven mad.

You roll your eyes when you sense him following close behind. So the mercury darts circling your frame don't take you by surprise when you turn to confront him.

“You defy me without much thought… have you forgotten who I am?”

Ignoring Nozel’s pretentious comment, you point at the darts. “No reason for that.”

“Of course there is,” he surmises, then stalks closer. “How else shall I make my words stick?”

You take a step backward, and there is only an inch distance until your ass hits a solid wall. Watching him, your brows furrow in confusion. The medal on his chest glints like a third eye, leaving you heavily unsettled. You have no idea what he’s attempting and your stomach goes sour at the thought.

“A captain so worthless,” Nozel says. He steps forward, filling the space between you, and with a flick of his wrist, the darts dissolve. His hand rests around your neck, soon adding enough pressure to draw the air out of you. “...Must’ve whored her way to the top.”

You claw desperately at his unrelenting hands, certain his eyes darken at your struggling. As you heave for air though, your body begins to relax into him. Then there’s warmth that you feel. It’s nice. Your eyes widen at the sudden discovery. This is wrong, and you despise him. However, heat continues washing over, traveling up towards your face and burning at the tips of your ears. A moan is thick in your throat until you swallow it down.

“Do you enjoy that?” Nozel asks. The first time you witness a true reaction from him, a genuine open-mouthed awe. He’d be lying if he said he doesn’t feel the slightest bit of guilt when you cower away after he recoils. But the sweetest little whine spills out of your cherry swollen lips. You are responding to him. To his fingers. Is there a more beautiful sight?

With a tentative approach, he snakes long fingers around the column of your throat again, pressing firmly where he decides he can get a quick reaction from you.

“N-Nozel,” you sputter on the verge of whimpering. The way he stares down, eyes almost inklike and brooding, you instinctively close your legs. He looks attractive standing over you, lips curling back and one hand trailing up your- No. Not him. He can’t win, you remind yourself.

“Fuck off,” you gasp, pushing him away with more adrenaline, more anger.

“I can’t believe… You enjoy that?” Nozel repeats, brows raising in disbelief.

You slap your palm against his chest, this time shocking him that you have the audacity. He grimaces at your assault, then catches your arm and his grip is bruising as he twists until you are left powerless. There is nobody in the hallway to intervene and it’s near silent, all except for your rasping breath as oxygen inflates your lungs.

It’s a blessing he takes your rash behavior fairly well. You know he physically has an advantage over you and up until now the realization sets in that you’ve been letting your guard down. Not once have you used your magic on him.

“Come. Now.” Violet eyes search the empty hall before he pulls you to the nearest stairwell.

You clamber down some steps until your back slams the sandstone wall. Nozel pins you there with arms that tense and fingers that dig into the flesh of your thighs, wrapping you around himself until your body ends up in the position he desires. Then his mouth claims yours in a searing kiss, a mouth which is undeniably irresistible in the way his lips mold and nip against yours.

“Maybe if you weren’t so irritating, I would consider taking my time.” Nozel has zero patience, and after all, who says you are willing to wait.

He inhales a long breath, his deft fingers slide under your skirt and dip into the crotch of your panties. Something about the warm juices that coat them cause his pupils to dilate with an animalistic spark.

“What do you expect me to do with this?” He scissors through slippery arousal, the combination of his hand connecting with your sex leaves your hips bucking towards him. Your sodden cunt squelches as he works two digits in you at a brutal pace. Panties now abandoned around your ankles. “Practically dripping.”

“You're lucky I thought of another man to get wet enough for you.”

Nozel sneers, “Thinking about any man could get you wet.”

An almost inaudible groan escapes him as his fingers withdraw from your clenching hole.

“Really?” you say. “Good thing I remember how good of a fuck Fuegoleon was.”

You take absolute pleasure in pissing him off.

At the sound of his rival’s name, he nearly loses all composure. His palm slides over the expanse of one of your naked asscheeks before kneading it. Seething, he spreads you repeatedly, pussy opening wide and inviting. The sting of his hand spanking your ass shakes you, and he observes the way you react.

“Careful how you speak to me, little girl,” Nozel warns, spanking you again. He admires the way your lip quivers. His little whore ready to submit.

You are a far cry from little, but boy do you gush at the name. His words leave you feeling so far removed from being pissed that you allow yourself to give in to some of his ministrations. Hell, you need this. No matter what you tell yourself, you can’t deny your excitement.

Soon he’s freeing his cock with one hand as the other holds you upright. You can’t help but gape at his size and your eyes refuse to peel away once he uses his soaked fingers to stroke himself. It’s embarrassing, and this doesn’t go unnoticed by Nozel.

“Tell me. Say you want this.” He strokes himself again before adding. “I don’t have all day.”

The fucking nerve. Of course he wants you to beg him, he gets off on being assertive. You really don’t want to give in. Nozel doesn’t deserve the satisfaction. But when his cock slots through your folds, you curse yourself for convulsing at the feeling.

“Shit,” you groan, “j-just fuck me.” Eyes rolling as the head of is cock pushes past your tight entrance and at the hint of a smirk that tugs his lips.

That look. It’s how you know not to anticipate a gentle fucking. The sting of his cock burning it’s way past your creamy slick and slipping deep to brush your cervix. All in one thrust. Before you can stop it, a loud ‘yes’ erupts from your chest, and Nozel’s hand flies over your mouth immediately.

“Will you— quiet!”

“I kno-know,” you say, words muffled into his hand. “It’s so, so good.”

His voice hitches at your mewling and he has to catch himself from drilling you through the wall. One of his hands tenses at the nape of your neck before pulling your head so his mouth can rest at your ear. Your breasts collide with his chest when he yanks you forward.

“Who else have you spread your legs for, Y/N?” Nozel wonders. ”Did the foreigner have a go? I’d imagine him desperate enough to use this cunt.”

He emphasizes ‘cunt’ with a few sharp thrusts that repeatedly grind against your g-spot. Your eyes flutter as your rock forward, but his words don’t go unmatched.

“Desperate? If you fuck me, what does that make you, hm?” you laugh. “Any woman you’d like could be at your fingertips, yet here we are.”

There is no way to explain it. No way without him admitting to liking you since he first laid eyes on the new captain. So he takes the opportunity to ignore you instead.

“Shut your mouth before I do,” he grunts into your ear, continuing to ravage your gripping walls. “Fucking you is even more miserable than I imagined.”

And you can’t agree more. But if you are both honest with yourselves, it is the most godly feeling. You start to see white as he rams himself into you and his pulsing cock nears the edge of filling you with cum. Nozel’s cum.

It isn’t long until you’re falling apart in unison, exchanging the most hurtful words to make up for your inadequate ability to express affection. And it’s almost beautiful? Until it’s not. Until his thrusts don’t cease and your string of curses bounce the walls of the secluded stairwell. You can’t think straight anymore and your back arches as warm seed spills inside you. It’s a mess, but you’re both left hungover on sex and provocation.

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