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#sorry if this sounds clunky
leonave · 7 months
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https://www.tumblr.com/leonave/730002993985060864/cant-believe-fresh-tv-wrote-the-most-complex
Asking you to explain
YAY im glad someone actually asked
so i'll give a very brief* explanation why but i may elaborate further as i post. read my ramblings under the cut
*it is not brief
basically i just think its interesting that they seem to be each other's opposites in terms of mentality and also how they view their own relationship. and its not in a romantic or opposites-attract way, its genuinely unhealthy for the both of them.
sky, while honestly interested in dave, wants nothing romantic during the competition. she is assertive about her boundaries and prioritizes what is best for her and her team. but she is only human after all, and her own crush on dave does eventually interfere with the competition despite her best efforts to manage it
meanwhile, dave is constantly begging for her attention, her validation, and a relationship from her, but doesnt actually like her as a person? he lets sky (or at least the possibility of dating her) take total control of his actions but isnt interested in her thoughts, feelings, interests, etc.
but the one thing they do have in common is that neither of them see the other for who they really are. sky has these expectations of dave that she wants him to live up to, (possibly because her boyfriend back home doesnt meet those expectations himself, but im getting ahead of myself) and dave sees her as his saving grace, the only one who understands him.
this miscommunication leads to the both of them acting like the worst version of themselves to each other in a desperate attempt to be heard.
i could go on and on but that'd just be rambling so i'll cut it off here. thanks for reading !!!
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heyitsthatweirdo · 3 months
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Alright, real talk, Maria has a pretty interesting development so far. it started as a need to be strong, to put on a brave front to achieve her goals back in G. Which got her into, on the surface, avoidable outcomes. Despite the heel turn in GX, that was still the case, to a lesser extent(considering what she said to Hibiki in episode 3, i think). In this episode, with Elfnein's help, Maria learns that it's ok to be "weak" as long as you're true to yourself. Self-authenticity, in general, seems to be a theme of this series, but I believe Maria is the best showcase of that.
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waitingforminjae · 1 year
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i really like the eighth sense but the scenes with jihyun and aeri's classmate who did his presentation on hedwig and the angry inch, while dressed as hedwig, really left a bad taste in my mouth.......
idk maybe there's some context that i'm missing, either abt hedwig + the lgbt+ community, or in t8s itself. but the way they made fun of their classmate during his presentation (even though their presentation had a similar message!), and their mutually antagonistic conversation afterwards where they got the last laugh on him just felt very mean-spirited :(
idk it made me think of in skam when isak is dismissive and insulting towards more visibly lgbt+ and gnc lgbt+ people, and esklid scolds him for it, saying that those people marching in their parades are why we have pride, so you better be real careful about putting yourself above them.
like, both jihyun and aeri mocking him and the narrative framing him as somehow cringy and a mean classmate was just so 😐 weird and uncomfortable. like idk maybe i'm just missing a point they were trying to make but it just felt like they took a moment that could've been a moment of solidarity within the community and turned it into something that seemed to mock and reject the more visibly lgbt+ (and gnc lgbt+) members of the community in a very mean-spirited way :/.
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hazbin-a-blood-bag · 4 months
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"Du sagst, Du willst tanzen Ich tu', was ich kann Ich zuck' mit den Schultern Und ich zitter' vor Angst Alles hört auf, komm wir fangen was an Alles hört auf, denn es ist Weltuntergang..."
"You say, you want to dance I do what I can I shrug my shoulders And shiver with fear Everything's ending, let us begin something Everything's ending, because it's The end of the world..."
Weltuntergang by Enno Bunger
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สวัสดีค่ะ สหายในธรณีโพ้น พวกเราในธรณีนี้ขอส่งมิตรจิตมาถึงท่านทุกคน // Sàwàtdee kâ, sàhăai nai torránee póhn. Pûak rao nai torránee née kŏr sòng mít jìt maa tĕung tâan túk kon. // Hello dear friends in far lands. We in this land would like to send you all some friendliness.
- Thai greeting on the Voyager Golden Record
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mechahero · 4 days
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@demonsfate asked- jin and lambda maybe ? how it happened who knows it's just for fun if they had a kid (accepting)
Name: Yoruhana Kazama
Gender: Nonbinary
General Appearance: Standing at a nice even 5'12", Yoruhana for the most part stands heads over their peers and one of their parents. A head full of dark brown hair (almost black), often carefully styled to look like a spiky mess and somewhat muscular as a result of their training with one of their fathers. Their eyes are brown and their skin is also olive toned. If one were to get a good look at them next to their parents, you could almost pick out which of their features came from who, almost to an eerie degree. They're often seen wearing casual clothing most of the time, such as a white tank top, jeans, and light reddish-orange fabric wrapped around their hands and upper arms. It's their go to outfit that they usually don't change out of even after training.
Personality: Surprisingly mellow most of the time! They're more keen to go with the flow and see where things take them. Don't let their laidback nature fool you however, even they have their limits and will snap when pushed too far.
Special Talents: They've gotten the advanced strength from both their parents. And well, the ability to shoot lasers out of their eyes. (And surprise! Devil Gene on top of that!)
Who they like better: They'd rather not play favorites if they could help it but admittedly, they do like Lambda just a tiny bit more.
Who they take after more: Jin. Although swap his stoicism for something a tad more softer.
Personal Head canon: They're something of a delinquent themself! Admittedly, a rather lax delinquent but one nonetheless. They tend to get away with skipping classes most of the time by putting on the front of a hardworking student, often pretending to be busy tutoring people. Their personality helps them a ton.
Face Claim: Terra from KH (icon sourced from this post)
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vse-kar-vem · 5 months
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what christmas tradition would you most like to do with bojan?
good question !!! my family and i haven't really done christmas stuff in years, but i'd love to decorate a tree with bojan 💞💞 it'd be such a fun time. and we know he'd get a kick out of christmas music, so that HAS to be on. can't wait to hear bojan cover "all i want for christmas is you" 🥰
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if i was absolutely FORCED to go back in time to high school i think the one thing i would change would be. being more involved w the theatre kids
#sorry. introspection post time#watched the movie version of a show we did when i was a freshman and i got hit with a massive wave of. damn i kinda miss that tho#i was! head spotlight techie#and it was. so fun and i loved it sooo much i miss the burns on my arms i miss the ozone smell#i miss the clunky sound when u change color filters#i miss early rehersal practices where my job was to sit on the balcony with a copy of the script and make lighting note annotations#i miss sitting on the balcony with my legs dangling off the edge.#i dropped a flipflop one time and nearly clunked one of the leads on the head LMAO#we were friends tho so he just. picked my shoe up off the floor and waved it at me like a grouchy old man raving about kids on his lawn#and he didnt give it back to me until after practice LMAO#fuck dude........#and i learned all of the songs bc id be at every practice and would just like. sing to myself on the balcony bc nobody could hear me#ugm. we are not going to talk about my partner tech so she is just a big static filled void in all of these memories <3#we spent. so much time together and it was. hmmmmmmm. bc we were on the balcony by ourselves. no supervision no witnesses etc. she was. hm#anyway. happy memories only.#i miss my clunky old spotlight his name was megatron#i always kind of wished i had the abikity to try out even for like an understudy part bc i think i would have fun w that#but unfortunately high school was the bottomless pit of my mental illness and despair and etc#i did NOT have the mental fortitude to do that#but it always looked rlly fun.....#anyway this was entirely inspired by my remembering that anybodys from west side story existed#and like. thats the EXACT character i wouldve loved 2 play in hs#do u know jow much fun i had singing officer krupkie on the balcony. i wouldve nailed that shit#also it wouldve given me a better excuse to be friends w the drama club guys and not..... you know. the static filled void#anyway. hi. how r we all tonight. im finding myself nostalgic for the worst period of my life <3
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surpriserose · 1 year
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I had to rage annotate the edgy slam poetry
#Listen my poetry skills are rusty like most pf my writing analysis skills but like this sucks right?#Like i know almost rhymes are a thing but this shit does not seem intentional so its just kind of nothing and its not like its doing almost#Rhymes to unseat the reader or like idk not to go game of thrones mode but subvert the readers expectations#And its slam poetry so it doesnt need to but still theyre there#And theres the alliteration of sounds for one line and thats it!!!!!!! You arent doing anything fun or interesting with it!!!!#Also how do puddles fly and sheets wither like puddles are known for being...on the ground and sheets are like?????? Girl living things#Wither not sheets like say wrinkled but oh sorry i forgot thats not edgy enough mr puts guts berserks backstory in my slam poetry#Also like i know the sheets are red because ooohh blood colored thats spooky but that doesnt add anything that doesnt make an 'immaculate#Room' less immaculate it just makes it red#Also the break there is the page transition since im reading a digital copy but it might as well be in the texts for how poorly this all#Connects#Like why are you talking about rooms and death and being like oh i cant breathe like??? Even with death youre not describing smell shit#Youre only describing the visuals !!!#The rest of it is just so edgy it turns into pudding for how little substance it has!!!!!!!#Also sorry the it controls line still makes no sense to me like position is the noun right beforehand so its the antecedent or whatever the#Word is but it makes no sense like yeah i guess it does like the position/environment youre in controls your reactions to it but idk its#Just clunky and edgy and stupid#colleen hoover#Hater hours#Sorry for accidentally getting so mad i do poetry analysis but well coho has that effect on me i guess
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bitseventimes · 1 year
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i can feel my starwars love rise from the ashes. the funky architecture got me again......
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infizero-draws · 2 years
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mira pero porque estoy tan feliz de que andas hablando español 💀💀💀
estoy feliz porque estás feliz !!!
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collgeruledzebra · 4 months
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listened to the tdir audio drama yesterday for midwinter... pretty good overall. didn't love some of the casting (why did the rider need to sound like dracula with a cold) and often felt that the sound design was overdoing it a bit but at least it did follow the story faithfully. also liked that it leaned in somewhat to the moral greyness of the light, I find the portrayal of both the light and the dark throughout the books as having a very 'end justifies the means' philosophy quite interesting. i'd give it 8/10 will most likely be listening again next year
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peachesofteal · 5 months
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Simon discovers something unexpected:
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Light on masterlist
Simon Riley/female reader (single mom)
The first time Simon meets you, it’s on the rooftop of the apartment building in the middle of the morning.
He’s up here for a smoke, his first in hours, his body anxiously craving the nicotine after sitting on a cramped train for too long after the final debrief. His muscles are sore, stitches in his leg bothering him, mind is exhausted, and all he wants to do is smoke a cigarette and then collapse on the bed inside the flat that he hasn’t seen for months.
When he gets to the roof, after climbing four flights of stairs because the bloody elevator is broken, he’s greeted with two surprises. One, there is a garden up here now, multiple raised beds enclosed in sturdy two by sixes, and two… you are kneeling on the brick between them.
You’re on your knees, digging around, dirt smudged on your clothes, purple garden gloves caked with soil. You’re talking aloud too, rooting around in the plants and singing out names of vegetables and their corresponding colors, occasional pulling something green loose and stuffing it in a bag. He glances around the roof, confused, but sees no one but you, your voice carrying on the wind to where he stands by the clunky metal door.
When he gets closer, he realizes you’re not talking to yourself at all, but to a baby. A tiny baby tucked into a carrier, who’s eyes are wide and somewhat tracking your hand movements while you point to things in the garden bed, in the sky, on the ground.
“And this is a parsnip.” You say, brushing some rust-colored earth from the root and turning it in your hand. “They’re not very tasty raw but aren’t terrible cooked.” The baby watches you in awe, little feet and arms kicking and swinging while you smile and nod at them, like you think they understand anything you’ve just said. “Yeah! A parsnip!” You’re smiling, your face is bloody radiant as you nod down to the baby, one of your hands rubbing dirt from your skin onto your pants before you’re reaching out to grab a cloth from the baby’s lap and mopping up something on their chin. The action causes you to shift, your head turning enough to catch him in your peripherals, body tensing like you’ve been frozen, shoulders raising under your ears before you loosen and relax, squinting up at him in the sun. “Hi.” You blink, glancing back down to the carrier. “I uh, didn’t realize anyone else was up here.” He swallows, trying to give you a response, brain fracturing at the seam as it frantically attempts to recall words, civilian words like hello, or hi, or sorry. It’s difficult, because he’s a little distracted by how the light refracting in your eyes, the way it’s shining on your skin and hair, bathing you in the early morning glow like you’re some sort of angel. He’s still a few feet away, but he thinks he can see entire universes in your irises, every color ever imagined shimmering in the rays of the sun.
His brain finally catches up, and his mouth thankfully remembers how to form words.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to disturb you.” He’s polite and you shrug, nodding to your little companion.
“You’re not disturbing us. We were just harvesting some vegetables.” You smile brightly, casually stripping off the gloves while you rock up from your knees into a standing position. If the mask bothers you, you don’t outwardly show it, and your posture is relaxed when stand in front of him. “Isn’t that right, Emmaline?” You coo down to the baby, who wiggles in her carrier as a response, face lighting up at the sound of your voice, or her name. He’s not sure. Do you live here? Are you… her mum? The babysitter? Who are you?
You give him a once over, briefly, and he watches your smile shift from genuine to forced when your eyes land on his hands. The smokes. He’s holding a pack of cigarettes in one hand, and you clear your throat, brushing some dirt off the front of your clothes. “We were actually just finishing up.” You bend at the waist to pull the carrier into the crook of your elbow, supporting its weight with your hip, and slide the handles of the bag full of green things onto your opposite shoulder. “Roof’s all yours.” He feels a pang of regret, like he doesn’t want you to go, the sentiment unnatural to him, unsettling. You obviously live in the building, he thinks. But where? Do you lug that carrier up and down the steps all the time, just to get up here? He frowns.
“I can wait.” He tries to stop you, guilt running thick in his veins, and you shake your head.
“It’s lunchtime anyway.” You incline your head to little Emmaline, who’s face is growing a little scrunchy, like she’s upset, and he swallows.
“Alright, then.” You give him another nod, and head off towards the door. He grits his teeth, fingers tensing around the thin carboard in his hand, the little box holding his salvation safely in its grasp, but his eyes slide to where you walk away, and he can’t help but notice the way the carrier lightly bumps against your hips as they sway. Bloody hell.
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olderthannetfic · 2 months
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I don’t want to sound rude but I’ve read that some people prefer to read fics from older fandoms and I agree because younger people are alarmingly illiterate. The too vs to, chose vs choose, lose vs loose, there their and they’re are just scratching the surface.
Genuinely I don’t want to be rude but I can’t read from writers who do not know how to read and write themselves. And I don’t mean EASL because I have no issue with these fics because despite the grammar clunkiness a lot of those fics are still well written by a writer who is clearly well read and able to write a good story in a way that someone illiterate in their first language just can’t.
--
I am sorry to inform you that choose/chose and its brethren are an eternal nuisance. The current crop of young fools might be worse about puritywank, but they're exactly the same as every other generation when it comes to bad proofreading.
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jenosbigtoe · 6 months
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park jisung x bimbo!reader (M)
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minors dni
summary: maybe the quiet boy isn’t as naive or innocent as you initially thought.
warnings: reader is kinda slutty but ji secretly loves it, dom!jisung, big dick jisung, fingering, size kink, creampie, fellatio, unprotected sex, college au!
word count: 3.1k
a/n: i’m a jeno girlie but ji has been hitting sooo different. ESP THE BAT JISUNG OOOH
SORRY TO WHOEVER WANTED THE JAEMIN FIC FIRST IM GETTING IMPATIENT HAVING THIS SIT IN THE DRAFTS. JAEMIN FIC THIS WEEKEND POSSIBLY!!
god you wanted him so bad. park jisung, the quiet compsci major that sat in the front of every lecture you’ve had together since freshman year. the park jisung that walked around with his clunky black headphones around his head at all times. the one who had his head down and eyes averted wherever he went. the one who rarely raised his hand in class but when he did, god he sounded so sexy explaining topics you could never begin to understand. the park jisung you’ve never spoken more than 10 words to in the 3 years you’ve known him at uni.
you just wanted to corrupt him so bad. with those baggy clothes he always wore and those harry potter circular lenses you thought looked so so cute on his face, you’ve never seen him interact with the opposite sex. like ever. and with your senior year in uni, you knew you had to make a move on him.
operation seduce park jisung is a go.
you had your first lecture of the day together. it was a 9 am, one you barely showed up to but you knew he had perfect attendance to. and today you were going to make his knees weak when he saw you.
popping your sparkly pink lip gloss, you gave yourself another look over in the reflection of the window before stepping into the lecture hall. today, you wore a light pink mini skirt, a white crop top and lacy hot pink push up bra that peaked through, and a cardigan with strappy gold sandals. you walked in 5 minutes late, smacking your bubblegum, and scanned the room for your target.
there he sat in the front row, in his oversized black hoodie and khaki cargo pants, his laptop open and signature black headphones around his neck. he was chewing on the end of a pen cap as he typed, eyebrows slightly furrowed in concentration. you smirked to yourself and sauntered over to the seat next to him, making sure to scoot behind him in order to accidentally rub your ass against his head.
“sorry, excuse me,” you whispered.
jisung scooted up to let you pass and gave you a tight lipped smile as you sat next to him.
you didn’t even bother taking anything out to write notes. as you pretended to focus on the lecture, your eyes drifted over to jisung periodically. the way his hands were so big and veiny. when his hoodie sleeve would lift up and tease you with the image of his slim muscular arms. the faint smell of his masculine scent—smoky cedarwood? you could feel your pussy throbbing.
after the lecture was over and jisung got up to leave, you stopped him. “hey, what’s your name again? my name is y/n i don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves before.”
“it’s park jisung,” he said curtly.
it was hard for you to decipher how he felt talking to you but you didn’t want to burn this bridge before it even took off. “okay, nice to meet you, jisung. see you around!” you gave him a bright grin and turned on your heels to saunter out of class, leaving him to stare at your turned back.
and the next few weeks it was rinse and repeat. you would show up wearing your cutest little outfits, showing the most amount of skin appropriate in an “academic setting”, and trying to strike up a conversation with the quiet sexy compsci boy you had a crush on. to be fair, it didn’t seem like your plan was working all that well though. you barely knew anymore about jisung than you did a month ago and you thought by now you would’ve had him melting in your palm. with all the curt responses he gave to your questions, you should’ve been discouraged by now. but no, you were more determined than ever to get this boy underneath you.
so today you decided to alter your plan a little bit. you found jisung in the same seat as always. you were wearing the cutest white sandals and a short mini sundress with a pink ribbon in your hair. you took extra care in your makeup today too, wearing just a little more blush, sparkly silver glitter eyeshadow, and frosty pink lipstick.
“hi ji,” you walked up to him and smiled, actually 10 minutes early this time.
he gave you a small smile and looked back down at his laptop. you puffed your cheeks and pouted a bit. you sat in your designated seat next to him in a huff and pulled at his hoodie sleeve.
“ji, you like me right?” you started to draw circles on his arm and leaned in closer so he could smell your cherry perfume.
jisung looked up at you and tensed up with hesistant look about his face. “what do you mean, y/n?”
you pouted your lip. “you know.”
jisung fidgeted in his seat a bit and looked every where but your tits that were spilling out your bra. “i don’t know what you mean.”
“well we’re friends, right?” you leaned ever so slightly over. god he looked so cute and delicious you could just eat him up.
“um,” jisung started.
you interrupted him. “well i like you ji. and you’re my friend. friends help each other, right?”
jisung stared blankly at you. “y/n we've barely talked except the past couple weeks.”
you ignored his last statement.“this is really embarrassing but,” you leaned over and whispered softly in his ear, “i’m failing this stupid econ class. it’s required for my major but i just don’t understand any of it.”
you leaned back and stared jisung directly in his eyes, close enough to count the eyelashes on his eyes. “help me, ji? please? i know you’re just so smart and i only need some tutoring.” you gave his arm a tight squeeze for reassurance.
poor jisung was so flustered and shifted around at the proximity. “w-well uh o-okay-“
you stood up gave him a tight hug, conveniently shoving his face into your juicy tits, and squealed excitedly. mission success. “thank you so much, ji! let me treat you out to lunch a few days a week to make up for your help!”
jisung’s face was so red and the hug left his glasses slightly askew on his face. adjusting his glasses, he fumbled out a “yeah no problem.”
after the lecture, you slid jisung a piece of paper with your number with a “text me :) <3” and practically skipped out of class.
later that evening you got a text from an unknown number.
unknown: This is y/n right?
unknown: It’s Park Jisung.
you squealed and kicked your feet around on your bed.
you: yup :)) this is y/n
jisungie <3: Okay. I’m free Tuesdays, Thursdays, Fridays, and Sundays after 2pm. Every other day I have work. Let me know when you want to meet up.
you: yayyyy!! perfect <3
you: let’s meet up at the library tomorrow at 2:30pm. my place is right by it
jisungie <3: Okay.
you: your so awesome ji 😎
jisungie <3: You’re*
jisungie <3: You’re welcome, y/n. And just so you know, I do like you. You are my friend.
you had to run laps around your room after that one.
the next day was a sunday. you told jisung to meet you at the library but you knew better. the library wasn’t open on sundays. so that meant your study date had to move somewhere. and with your place being so close, that somewhere would hopefully be your apartment.
so you arrived at the library 30 minutes early, knowing jisung’s little quirk of needing to be 15 minutes early to everywhere he goes. today you decided to wear black yoga pants that accentuated your ass and a cute crop with a teddy bear print on it. and you made sure your makeup was waterproof because you hoped jisung would make you cry it all off later.
when jisung arrived, you faked a pout and pretended to be upset. you ran up to him and grabbed his arm, big fake tears welling up in your eyes. “ji, the library is closed. i was so excited to hang out with you outside of class but we can’t even have our study date because the stupid library doesn’t open on sundays.”
jisung looked panicked at the sight of your tears. “uh, um, uh don’t cry.”
you let a few tears roll and rubbed them on the back of your hands. “sorry ji. i’m just so disappointed. sure i want my grade in econ to be better but i also just wanted to hang out with you.”
jisung grabbed a napkin out of his bag and handed it to you. he rubbed your hand in a reassuring way that secretly had your pussy throbbing from his big hand grabbing your small one. “uh it’s okay, y/n. i can probably make time tomorrow. i have work but uh-“
you suddenly interrupted him. “wait, i don’t want you to have to miss work for me. i have an idea. my place is just a 3 minute walk from here. how about we head over there instead?”
your tears suddenly dried up as you pouted up at him, puffed up cheeks and big doe eyes with a hopeful look on your face.
jisung seemed to look relieved that you stopped crying. “okay. if that’s what you want then i’m down.”
you squealed and jumped up and down, hugging his body close to yours. “yayy! thank you thank you thank you ji!!!” you grabbed his big hand in yours and practically dragged him all the way to your apartment.
your apartment looked exactly how jisung imagined it. so pink and girly, flowers and ribbons and stuffies everywhere. and it smelled so strongly of you, he was about to lose his mind. your fluffy white cat purred and rubbed herself affectionately on jisung’s leg as soon as he entered.
“sweet girl, he smells so good right?” you lifted her up and snuggled her into your arms, giving her kisses all over her fur. “ji, you can set your stuff down by the couch. let me change into some lounge clothes.”
jisung felt so awkward being in your apartment but when you came out, he knew he was really in trouble. you were wearing a lacy silk pink victoria’s secret pj set that looked so flimsy.
“ji, do you want anything to eat? drink?” you walked past him, underwear peaking from beneath your shorts as you walked to the small kitchen.
jisung stuttered. “n-no. i’m good”
you walked over with a glass of water and a pack of cookies. “okay just let me know if you need anything.”
after an hour of jisung trying to lecture topics of micro and macro economics into your head, you just about had enough. slamming the book shut, you felt your brain about to fry.
“ji, i know i’m a business admin major but this is so stupid,” you whined. “why can’t i be as smart as you? i just wanna marry rich and be a stay at home wife.”
“well y/n-“ jisung started but you cut him off.
“no. i’m sick of this.” suddenly you pushed him back on the couch and straddled his waisted, using your legs to lock him underneath you. suddenly you leaned close to his ear and whispered softly.
“baby, i think you are just so sexy when you explain this stuff to me. you are so smart and i want you so bad.” you nibbled on his ear.
and jisung snapped. he was tired of your teasing for the past few weeks. what, did you really think he was so naive and stupid to notice your seduction tactics? you’re quite literally the girl of his dreams and you’ve been the object of his fantasies since he first saw you freshman year. you were always so bubbly and sweet and outgoing, the exact opposite of him, how could he ever stand a chance with you? but now that you’ve finally made a move on him, that was it.
using his strength, he flipped you over and pinned you on your back, gripping your hands above your head. “fuck. you have no idea what you do to me. you think you can just tease me like this, dangling yourself in front of me like a piece of meat, and expect me to not snap? you have too much faith in me.”
your heart was racing and every word he said went straight to your pussy, growing wetter by the second. jisung started leaving wet kisses down your jaw, once hand still pinning your hands above your head and the other gripping your waist.
“jisung you are so sexy. you have no idea how much i have wanted this,” you looked him into his eyes and smashed your lips against his.
3 years of unresolved feelings went into that kiss. he was a much better kisser than you expected, which had you moaning into his mouth and grinding up into his thigh.
he ripped off your pj set, leaving you in just your lacy white bra and panties. “fucking slut. you planned this huh? wanted to bring me to your apartment so you could fuck me huh?”
you whined and started taking his clothes off too. and holy shit was he hiding a beautiful body underneath those baggy clothes. you could always kinda tell he was toned underneath those clothes but nothing compared to this. his body was so well built and chiseled, arms so veiny and thick, you were foaming at the mouth.
he went to take his glasses off but you stopped him. “the glasses stay on while we fuck,” you told him seriously.
he bit back a giggle and ripped your underwear off. your pussy was glistening with arousal. he wrapped his lips around one of your juicy tits and traveled his hands down your body until his fingers rested on your cunt. “does my baby want to be touched here? does her slutty pussy want to be touched?”
you whined and bucked your hips into his hand. “yes! yes please ji i need you to touch me.”
he smirked and started teasing your pussy with his fingers, rubbing them up and down your slit and ghosting over your clit.
“stop teasing me. need more ji,” you sniffled.
he shoved two fingers into your sopping cunt and started pumping them. you moaned loudly, wriggling your body around and clenching on his fingers. with his other hand, he continued to grope at your chest, leaving you needier than ever. god his hands were so hot and they felt so good. so long and big and veiny and the perfect size for touching your cunt.
suddenly, you shoved him off of you and pushed him back on his back. “your turn.”
jisung looked shocked at first but let you take control. you pulled down his boxers and let out a small gasp. “no fucking way.”
jisung smirked at you and tilted his head back, shutting his eyes with a knowing look on his face. his glasses were crooked and falling off his nose but he never looked sexier to you.
“ji, why did you never tell me you were hiding a horse in there?” you asked, completely serious.
jisung stifled a giggle. “never asked.”
“if i had known you were this fucking hung down here i would’ve jumped your bones so much sooner.” you were seriously concerned for your little pussy the next day but at this point you didn’t care.
you gave his massive cock a few pumps with your manicured nails, wondering just how you would be able to fit all of it inside. even his balls were massive and heavy.
you alternating between licking the base of his cock and lightly sucking on his balls. god it was so hot and heavy and smelled so good, so musky and masculine. jisung let out the sexiest groans as you did this, snaking his hands into your hair and gripping your head. “fuck baby that feels so good.”
you gave a small kiss to the tip of his cock and then started sucking, putting more and more of it down your throat as you went. tears pricked your eyes as it went further and further. jisung’s moans got even louder and he started to buck his hips slightly against your face.
you gave licks to the underside as his dick was deep in your throat. with one final push, you bottomed out on his cock and deepthroated him fully, leaving jisung’s mind hazy and body shaking. fat tears welled up in your eyes and fell down your face. good call on the waterproof mascara.
“fuck m gonna cum. you’re doing so good baby, so so so good,” he groaned as you kept going up and down on his cock, sucking and licking his shaft with every bob of your head.
without warning, he suddenly ripped his cock from your face and stood up, leaving you whining and tears staining your face.
“what a cock hungry slut. can’t even go a second without cock ruining her. well don’t worry baby, i’m about to fuck you so good. wanna cum inside your pussy for the first time.”
he reached into his bag for a condom but you stopped him. “no condom. want you in my pussy raw.”
jisung smirked. “naughty girl.” he pushed you on all fours on the couch and positioned himself behind you. “you’re already so wet baby, won’t even need to prep.”
he rubbed his massive cock on the outside of your pussy, teasing your hole and sticking the tip in before taking it out and rubbing it some more.
“ugh fuck me ji! stop teasing just fuck me right now!” you whined out, arching your back and shoving your cute ass in his face.
and without warning, he bottomed out inside you. you screamed at the sudden feeling, his balls pressing up against your clit. your arms gave out from beneath you, leaving his hands to gripping your hips for support.
“m gonna move now, m’kay sweetheart?” jisung groaned. your little pussy was just sucking him so tightly and it was driving him crazy.
his hips drove into your cunt, his big cock absolutely bullying your little pussy. you were a screaming and moaning and crying mess. “yes yes ji! oh my god feels so good yes!”
you felt your orgasm building up, leaving your pussy to clench and drip more around his cock.
“fuck baby. this pussy was made for me. you’re so perfect and gorgeous and i can’t believe i get to fuck this pussy,” jisung was going absolutely feral above you, thrusting hard and fast and deep into your pussy. he was bottoming out with each thrust, balls slapping against your clit.
“m close. where do you want me to cum baby?” ji groaned out.
“inside. cum inside my pussy. please ji, i need it, need it so much,” you cried.
your words sent jisung over the edge. he released his hot load into your cunt, giving a few last hard thrusts.
the feeling of hot cum inside you triggered your orgasm. you cried out in pleasure, feeling absolute bliss.
after you both got down from your highs, still panting heavily, jisung collapsed onto the couch with you on his lap. his head rested in the crook of your neck as you laid your head on his.
“this is a little late but be my boyfriend ji?”
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phyrestartr · 24 days
Text
Icarus, I Am Devoted | Sukuna x M!Reader
Main Fic W/C: 5.9k Bonus Drabbles W/C: 1.6k
[#Modern AU, ABO dynamics, Mob Boss!Sukuna, Alpha!Sukuna, Street Doctor!Reader, Omega!Reader, toxic relationships, age gap, sukuna is mid 30s, yuuji gang and reader are mid 20s, sukuna and yuuji are brothers, sukuna has FEELINGS, but he is BAD AT FEELINGS, nsfw, fluff, hurt/comfort, I KINDA EDITED BUT I JUST WANT THIS TO BE YEETED INTO THE OPEN OK BYE SORRY IF PARTS ARE CLUNKY]
@better-imagination-9 I summon thee
--
Sukuna didn't like Yuuji getting caught up in his business. 
He was too brash, thought himself too badass for the world to take down, thought gang life wasn't as bad as it was made out to be, just because his older brother was involved. Sukuna didn't know where the fuck he got that idea–the tattooed menace had killed people, stolen money, sold shit that ruined lives. It was fun for him, sure, but not so much for bystanders. 
“You're an idiot,” Sukuna growled as he dragged his brother into his office and threw him at the chaise lounge while they waited for their doctor on demand. 
“H-hey, come on, man! It's, uh, it's not even that bad–” Yuuji grimaced, though, holding at the wound gushing blood from his arm. “You've had worse!”
Sukuna laughed bitterly as his henchmen flooded the room and made necessary preparations for their aid's arrival. “You and I are fucking built different, Yuuji--you’re too damn soft for–”
“I'm not,” Yuuji snapped, honeyed eyes blazing. “I'm not.” 
Sukuna laughed again, then ripped his plush, leather chair across the room, sending it hurtling into the expensive ebony walls he encased his place of business in. He roared in overwhelming fury as it clattered to the floor. 
“How hard is it for you to listen? How come you can never just fucking–” 
“Yelling won't solve things,” your cool voice interrupted as you hurried into the room, medical bag in hand. “I thought you learned that by now.” 
Sukuna whirled on his heel. His hands were still fisted in his hair and his blood boiled, but now, there existed an explosive tension with you in the room. 
You, his pretty little omega. The one he chased away. The one he still craved. The one that drove him insane. 
“Uraume,” Sukuna growled, crimson eyes locking onto his most devoted. 
“My apologies,” they said with a pensive look and deep bow, “he was the only one willing to come.” 
“So mind your manners, or I'll let your brother bleed out,” you said airily, so haughty and bitchy and annoying. But Sukuna knew you wouldn't let Yuuji die. You wouldn't let him suffer with a wound like that–you were too fond of the little brat. 
Sukuna snarled in frustration and fixed his jacket with sharp tugs. “Just fix him.”
He stalked away, ignoring the way Yuuji yelled at him before preening at you as you tended to him. Sukuna knew his brother had a bit of a thing for you, his bitch, which caused more than a handful of problems with the two arguing and fighting for your affections. Naturally, you chose Sukuna. Of course you would.
The alpha's frustrations boiled, reducing the rage in his gut into simmering desire. He leaned his head back against the elevator mirror with a sigh as it shot up toward the penthouse--the one you, too, used to occupy. The one where you'd spread your legs for him, drowning in expensive, black silk sheets while he bred you like the good little thing you were. The one where you'd cook for him if (when) you woke up before him the morning after. The one where you first whispered I love you against his skin when you thought he was asleep.
The elevator doors dinged open, and he stormed out, eager to rid himself of the tightness pulling at his slacks. A cigar and a drink sounded good, too. 
Ding. 
He knew it was you. It had to be you. You were a good person, willing to let Uraume rest while you gave your ex the update he needed about his brother. After all, you didn't fear him, nor did you yearn to please him. You were more than capable of delivering shit news and getting off scotch free. 
“So?” Sukuna took a deep puff from his cigar and leaned further into the balcony railing as you approached. 
You hummed as you sidled up next to him, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as the breeze tugged at it. “He'll be fine. Yuuji's tough. He's a bit shaken up now that the adrenaline’s worn off, though.” 
“Maybe that'll teach that idiot not to get shot.” 
“Probably not.” 
“Probably not,” Sukuna sighed, tapping off a dash of ash from the butt of his cigar just before it was plucked from his hands. “Oi.” 
“These things'll kill you,” you scolded airily. “So will that.” You tried reaching for the crystalline glass of amber, too, when Sukuna scoffed and took a sip to spite you. 
“Don't,” he snarled. Any normal omega would have backed away. Any normal omega would have keened. Any normal omega would have tried to please him up with a sweet scent of submission. But you were a different breed entirely. 
“Don't growl at me–” you gaped as Sukuna downed the expensive liquor before whipping the glass at the skyline. “Sukuna.”
He stalked back into his penthouse with heavy steps as he ran his hands through his hair. He had to busy his fingers, his palms, just so he wasn't tempted to touch you, to grab you like he was used to. It'd been years since you were properly together–properly engaged in fact–but he still couldn't shake those infuriating fucking habits. You were a cancer in his mind, plaguing his body and thoughts. 
But he didn't want you to leave. Maybe he liked the chase. Maybe he just liked how his entire, explosive world narrowed down to just one infuriating thing that he wanted so badly. He didn't know. Maybe he didn't need to know. 
Sukuna poured himself another drink and collapsed onto his soft leather couch with a deep sigh. His arms draped along the back, one hand still holding the glass by the rim. He let his head fall back, and stared at the ceiling. 
Thankfully, you wandered in. And you wandered toward him, not to the door like you usually did when his temper flared and he acted out. Something small and pathetic in him uncoiled and settled down, purring in content when you took a seat beside him. 
“What's going on?” you asked quietly. Your fingertips singed sparks of pleasure against his skin where you touched: his cheekbones, his hairline, his furrowed brow.
He lolled his head to the side to look at you, his stupid pretty boy. “Nothing.” Not even Sukuna believed that.
You brushed his hair back, and the stupid alpha in him rose to the surface and moaned. “Yuuji’s not behaving?” Your warm palm cupped his cheek, and he leaned into it. 
“That little shit never behaves,” he mumbled through the vibrato of purrs rumbling from his chest. “Gonna make me die young.” 
“Hm. Is that why you haven't slept?” 
“I'm sleeping.”
“How much?”
“Enough.”
“Sukuna.”
“I said–” 
“You and I have different definitions of ‘enough,’” you chided lightly, like you were scolding one of your cats. “You look tired.” 
“Maybe it's because my mate scampered off in the middle of the night.” 
“Don't blame this on me.” 
“Why not?” Wine-red eyes glowered at you, deciding whether he should dominate or decimate you. “It's your fault.” 
You recoiled the slightest bit, your top lip twitching in that oh-so familiar way it did whenever you were close to snarling and snapping at him. You had such a temper for such a calm thing. Sukuna would be lying if he said he didn't try to rile you up on purpose. 
“Ho? What,” he started, grinning wickedly when you made a move to get up, but his arms snaked around you and held like wrought iron. “Feelin’ guilty?” 
“No,” you hissed, half-pissed by his drink spilling on you, half-pissed by his accusation. “Let go. I'm leaving.” 
“Leaving?” He crooned. “You always get so pissy when I don't wanna talk, ‘n now that I'm in the mood, you're tryna leave? Come on, sweetheart, that's not fair.” 
“I don't feel like fucking fighting tonight,” you snapped, and Sukuna stayed quiet for a change. “Yuuji got shot. You look like shit. And we--I haven't–” you took a deep breath. “Can't we just be civil for a night? Can't we just talk about–”
“About what?”
“About whatever.” 
“Fine.”
“Alright. Okay.” 
Somewhere behind the haze of alcohol, Sukuna's consciousness celebrated–this could be his shot at starting to fix things. This was his moment to rebuild that lost relationship and maybe clean up a space in his life for you to sit safely in. Your expectant expression agreed with him. You looked quite cute, what with your big eyes and the way you leaned into him. But instead–
“Was it a boy or a girl?” Sukuna asked before taking a sip of whatever remained in his glass. 
You blinked and shook your head, eyes narrowing the slightest as you looked over his face. “What?” You asked. 
Sukuna snorted and turned to face you, one arm gesturing with his scotch glass while the other arm stayed slung across the back of the couch. “I said,” he started, gesturing to your stomach and chuckling through his low, bassy words, “boy or girl? If it was a girl, then maybe the world did you a favour. You know how it is for women in this day and age.” 
You stared blankly like you were shellshocked, and Sukuna bubbled with near-manic, reedy laughter until you got up and walked to the door. 
“Oi, where the hell are you going, huh?” He got up and followed you, hastening his steps when he saw you b-line for the door. “Omega.” He grabbed your wrist and pulled you back, purring into your ear as he pressed his chest to your back. “Come on, we can make another one. You'd like that, huh?” 
“Get off,” you barked, ripping his arms away from you. But he grabbed you again and spun you back to face him. You shoved him back, your mind whirling in a chaotic waltz drenched with grey thoughts and crimson rain that almost drowned out the words he barked at you until–
Whack. 
He hit you. Backhanded, fingers adorned with thick, bulky rings and knuckles that'd seen too many fights. A natural disaster contained in the vessel of a mortal man–sometimes, he didn't know his own capabilities.
“Shit,” Sukuna mumbled, scrambling to set down his glass to, what, tend to you? Rewind time? Sure. “Babe–” 
But you, too, were a natural disaster. The tsunami that came after an earthquake, raising tides high and staring down at split earth with a taunt: you think you're bad? Watch this.
Thwack. 
You snatched up that bottle of fancy scotch and hit a home run, watching Sukuna collapse to the floor.
Sukuna woke up with a concussion, his wallet missing, and one of his favourite cars torched. 
It got him riled up. He was too ready to hunt you down and make you rectify your mistakes–that is, until he remembered why you did what you did. 
Boy or girl?
Maybe the world did you a favour.
Fuck. He flew way too close to the sun this time.
He watched you stack up expenses on his card instead of hunting you. Your little rage-filled crime spree was kind of funny anyway, and he couldn’t help but hope it made you feel at least a little better. 
Though he knew it could never. Nothing could make it better. 
“You should quit messing around with him,” Ieiri said as she tended to the half-dead gangster laying on her operating table. “He's bad news. A kid like you shouldn’t be getting involved.” 
The one little, wiggly lucid part of Sukuna wanted to strangle Ieiri; you were young, sure, but not stupid. Sukuna wouldn't go so far as to say you were mature for your age, no, but you'd been beaten down by life and forced into the role of an adult for long enough that it'd changed your way of thinking, of perceiving the world. You could make your own choices–just as long as it involved him. 
“You're not the first person to tell me that,” you said softly, words rising with a small, warm chuckle. “Good guys try way too hard to put on a show, to hide how garbage they can be.” You squeezed Sukuna's hand and ran your thumb over his split knuckles. “Guys like him show you who they really are right away. Then, you get to figure out what his good side is like.” 
You were there again. In the elevator, looking a little pensive beyond your cool exterior. 
Sukuna took a drag from his cigarette as he stepped in beside you. The button for his penthouse leered at him and whispered, “you have time.” 
All he had to do was think of what to say. The right course of action was obvious, but–well, was it really his fault? He couldn't accept that 100%. You clocked him upside the head with a fucking glass bottle and stole his– 
“Those things'll kill you.” Your fingers snatched the smoke from his lips before he realized it. He caught you butting it out on the fancy gold railings. 
“I like things that can kill me,” he hummed, lighting another cigarette and chuckling when you snatched that one too. “What, scared of a little competition?” 
“Yes.” 
Oh. Sukuna liked that.
“I, uh,” you started, fumbling with your pockets before handing something over. “Found this.” 
Sukuna glanced your way finally. He couldn't help but laugh as he plucked the wallet from your hands. 
“Found it, huh?” 
“Mhm.” 
“Such a benevolent, pious thing. I would've kept it.” 
“Yeah, well. You're a dick. ‘Course you would.” 
“Where'd you find it?” 
“My pocket.” 
“No shit.” 
“Yeah. Weird.” 
The elevator doors dinged open, revealing the empty hall leading to the penthouse. He glanced down at the door before looking back down at you. 
“Have a drink with me.”
Your expression soured. 
Sukuna threw his arm against the doors to keep them open. “Coffee?” 
Your brows lifted, the creases smoothing from your face. “Coffee.” 
Sukuna's alpha bloomed with pleased content. He sidled up next to you and rested his broad hand on the small of your back, leading you down the hall. 
“With a bit of Baileys.”
“No Baileys.”
He let you try to sooth his stress while you waited for your favourite, poor-person coffee to brew. 
You straddled his thick thighs as you kissed at his neck. Your hands roamed and threaded through his gelled hair, your blunt nails dragged along his scalp, coaxing rumbling purrs out of your alpha.
“Shit,” he moaned, leaning back into your hands, digging his head into your digits and grumbling like an old dog. You hummed in sympathy, and gave him harsher scritches, making his knee bounce in double time like a dog getting the spot scratched.
You weren’t done, though. You licked at his neck’s scent gland and coaxed more of his natural musk to the surface to mix with yours–a classic way to get one’s partner to calm down. You were methodical as fuck about it, too, knowing how Sukuna’s stress abruptly blocked any good scents in favour of excreting foul, angry odors into the air when he was pissed. Or, sometimes, he’d shut down completely, the only scent coming from what clung to his skin and clothes. 
And so, he needed a little more TLC to get things flowing again, to make his body disarm and let the good vibes flow. 
You nipped the swollen spot lightly, eliciting a strangled growl from the man. “Too rough?” Your tongue pressed at the spot again, and pulled more of that deep purring out of him. “Maybe not.” 
“By all means, rough me up.” That was as close to a warning as you would get from a greedy bastard like Sukuna. He wanted you to bite harder, to break skin and set the wild tornado of a mating rut into motion. You were careful to avoid him when your unholy heats crashed down on you, but being in the presence of your estranged man when he was set off–well, it’d jumpstart your sex-crazed frenzy, too. 
“Raincheck,” you murmured. 
He huffed and rubbed circles in your hips before grabbing your ass and squeezing. “When's the last time–” 
The coffee maker sang a tune and you got off, saved from your warm, fuzzy marking daze. “Does it matter?”
Sukuna got up and stalked after you, rubbing the ache out of his shoulder. “Like it or not, we're stuck with our binding vow.” His chest pressed to your back, his arms slipping around your waist as he leaned down to nuzzle into your skin. “Mated for life.” He couldn't help the smile that branded into your neck. 
You cleared your throat and snatched up two mugs. “There're surgeries–”
“No.” 
“How do you take your coffee again?” Hah. You didn't even try to argue it.
Sukuna's ego boomed. His scent grew more dominating and demanding in tow. “You know how I like it. You know the way I like everything.”
You scoffed and slapped his hand away, the sweet, teasing omega that happily marked him up and scented him to high heaven gone, now replaced with your annoying, bratty self. Ugh. He loved it as much as he hated it.
“You used to be cuter,” Sukuna commented, quiet and breathy, so out of character. His hands retreated back to hold your waist instead of keeping you trapped against him. “What happened to–”
“You know what happened.” You sounded tired, too. Angry. But not at the Sukuna standing with you right then and there. 
Sukuna's old friend, unyielding frustration, bore down on him. He sucked his teeth and beat down the urge to snap, to yell and scream, claim it wasn't his fucking fault and that you never filled him in, so how could–
His forehead pressed against your shoulder. “I don't,” he sighed. “I don't fucking know, (Name). We lost our kid, I know that much, so what the fuck else is there?” 
For a moment, he thought he'd lost you again. He expected you to whirl around, throw a cup at his head and curse him to hell to start off another fight; instead, you slipped out of his hands gently, and replaced your warmth with a cup of coffee. 
“Come sit.” 
Sukuna complied. 
You tucked your legs up under you when you sat down. Your own mug was held snugly with both hands, yet your fingers fidgeted, twirling around whatever rings you had on while you thought of what to say. 
“So,” you started. “How much do you know?”
Sukuna leaned back and thought. “Uraume called. Said something was wrong.” He could remember their voice ringing in his ear, that usual, frigid demeanor exploding into something panicked and tortured as they tried to comfort you, order idiots around, and explain the situation. “They didn’t know what, but said you were bein’ taken to Ieiri. I met ‘em there, Gojo wouldn’t let me come in.” He sighed, the memories pricking his nerves. “Told me you miscarried, and–well, that’s more or less it.” 
You nodded a little, digesting the scraps of knowledge that’d been given to Sukuna. “I was alone,” you breathed. “I was–I’d been cramping. A lot. I thought–I didn't know–I just–I thought it was normal.” You cleared your throat, fidgeting more and only stilling when Sukuna's palm rested on your leg. You covered his hand with one of yours. “There was a lot of blood. I thought I was dying. Uraume and Yuuji took me to Ieiri.” 
Sukuna remembered that, too. He remembered catching sight of you just before his brother carried you away from him. It was hard to forget the sound of your wailing amidst all that red–that damned noise came from hell itself, from the burning, fetid pits of agony and despair and up through your beautiful voice. For something so foul to touch you was nothing but blasphemous.
Sukuna tried to follow you in, but that moron Gojo wouldn’t let him in, spouting some bullshit about how he’d make things worse. Needless to say, Sukuna snapped, and Ieiri suddenly had more than a mourning omega to deal with.
“I pinned it on you to cope. I didn’t know what else to do.” You spared a shy glance at him before staring down again. “...Uraume filled me in, though. You were dealing with so much shit. All that crap with the Zenins. And you didn’t even–you didn’t even know I was knocked up until I wasn’t.” You sighed and sipped your drink before setting it aside. “Guess it was easier to blame you for everything than it was to just accept I got unlucky.” 
“‘Unlucky’?” Sukuna repeated lowly, void of mirth for once.
You nodded. “Chromosome bullshit, garbage genetics, a shitty cervix. Coulda been anything.” Sukuna watched your expression shift from desolate to bitter. “And if you fuck up once and lose your pup, odds are it’ll happen again.”
“Says who?”
“Science. Doctors.”
“You really gonna take their word like that?” Your eyes met his, doey and expectant. “I'll gut ‘em myself if they say that shit next time you're knocked up.”
You looked a bit bashful then, looking away from him with pursed lips and glossy eyes. For a second, Sukuna thought you were about to snap and argue with him about how you vowed to never get pregnant again (which he'd indulge in), or maybe even bolt for the door (which he wouldn't allow), but instead, you grabbed the remote. 
“Tch. Don't say such stupid shit. It's annoying.” 
Sukuna could only grin to himself as you settled in beside him, tucking up against his side. Neither of you could swallow your pride enough to properly apologize for anything ever, but that wasn't necessarily needed–understanding was what was needed. Things had just become a little bit clearer. 
For once, the alpha found himself at ease. Sure, you had your petty and some less-than-petty spats, but there was a coil of contentment that stayed at the forefront of Sukuna's mind through it all. Now, he no longer fumed nor bristled, no longer wondered if you really belonged to him, no longer thought about how to trap you if he wanted to keep you around. 
Because you made more of an effort to see him, to call when you couldn't, to set his vicious wolf's heart at ease so he could rest soundly. He rested the most when you were so gracious as to curl up in those black, silken sheets with him, too.
Don't get too excited. It's just because we're mated; we'd go insane otherwise, Is how you rationalized it. And, honestly, it was cute to see you act so flippant and uncaring when Sukuna knew you were so the opposite. 
Little liar. Loves playing pretend. He gently tucked stray hairs behind your ear as you snoozed soundly beside him. It was unlike you to sleep in so late (“late” meaning past 6am), and it was unlike Sukuna to wake up before you, so it must have been kismet. 
Because this moment was the first in a long time where he got to touch you. Beyond the playful ass slaps and grabs at your hips, you never really let him feel you. Or did he just never try to touch you like this? Gently, just for the sake of feeling your skin and your warmth? 
Sukuna was a brutal man. He didn't often have a chance to be careful. If he'd had that kid, then he might've learned how; he could've learned not to throw glasses at skylines, not to lash out at his omega, not to expect you to still love you when he broke you. 
He brushed his thumb along your cheek and down to your jaw, admiring the soft skin and strong angle that led him to the curve of your chin, and your perfect lips. God, he wanted to kiss you. It'd been an eternity since he had a taste of you. Maybe if he was gentle–
I can do gentle. Sukuna shifted the slightest bit towards you until his nose lightly brushed against yours, until he felt your light breaths fan against his skin. Ah, why was his heart beating so fast now?
He did his best to ignore the way his pulse thundered in his ears when he brushed his lips against yours once more, before he kissed you softly. Gently. Perfectly. And he took his time parting. He had to savour the taste of your lips against his because who knew when he'd get to kiss you again? 
I love you, he heard echo in his memories when your lips parted. But he never heard himself reply. 
“Love you too, brat,” he murmured. “Don't you dare think otherwise.” 
Your eyes opened a moment later. “You mean that?” came your reply, just as light and whispered. Sukuna felt waves of heat come off your skin–were you blushing?
Crimson eyes flickered from your bashful look to the slight parting of your lips and back again. “Always.” Even though he never said it. But he let you get away with everything to show that love–credit card theft, cracking him upside the head with a bottle, abandoning him for months on end.
A soft ‘hm’ hummed through you. Your sleepy gaze melted from Sukuna’s, and down to his lips, too, while your own pursed, pensive. Thoughtful. Christ, you were really something else–just a single look from you had his mind reeling, his chest easing into a warmth so reminiscent of a campfire, the sort you both used to sit around when you’d bullied Sukuna into buying one for his too-big balcony. 
Back then, you were just “friends,” though the flirting and meaningful touches said otherwise. You were still a street doctor, introduced to him by Yuuji of all people, but you had more pep in your step, especially when you worked to try and swoon the hardened, deranged alpha you’d decided belonged to you. You’re mine, you said simply after shooting whatever whore the big, bad boss had hired for the night. The look in your eyes, cold and determined, got Sukuna achingly hard in an instant. He never wanted you to look at anyone else like that–your rage, your obsession, it could only ever be for him.
“‘M I still yours?” You still want me? You still love me? Am I still just for you?
You looked a little sentimental. A little sad, too, maybe. But maybe it was just the culmination of your fears and worries, your wants and desires finally breaking through your solemn being. 
“I'm a minimalist at heart. I've only got room for so much.”
“Don't tell me you're back on that Kondo Marie kick–” 
“But you're something I can't do without.” Yeah, I love you. I want you. I don't want much, but I want you. You're mine. “You bring me joy, or whatever the saying is. But I wanna beat the shit outta you sometimes for being a dumbass.” 
Sukuna laughed and nudged your nose with his–a small, primal gesture of fondness. “Yeah, yeah, I'm aware. Tch. You're gonna have to be careful--you're gonna send my old ass to an early grave if you keep up with all this fiery youth shit.”
“Then I can inherit your fortune,” you offered airily before kissing him teasingly. Sukuna growled when your small fangs dug into his bottom lip playfully. “That'd be nice.” 
“Hah. Everything's going to family–Yuuji, the old fart.” Sukuna pulled you in closer and purred as you complied. “You'd have to–”
“I'll marry you if that's what it takes,” you cooed, and Sukuna froze. You paused for a moment, too, before lifting yourself up to look down at his dumb face. “Oi.” You pat his cheek lightly but he scowled at you, half-cranky, half-defeated. “Eeeh? You mad?”
“Tch.”
“Awe, big alpha's mad.”
“Don't.” A command. A warning. One that had your subgender reeling and whimpering behind you, but your human side smiling, ready to mock. 
You slid on top of him, straddling his waist and splaying your hands out on his broad, solid chest. Sukuna still kept his gaze elsewhere. Honestly, you couldn't blame him--you were in a mood. 
“Oi,” you prodded, poking at his ridiculous pecs and tracing over the dark lines of his irezumi. “Hey. Don't pout.” But he grabbed your hands when your stupid fingers threatened to assault his nipples, and he continued to pout. “Come on, I said I'd marry you.” 
“Tch.” You've said that before. 
“I mean it.” 
“Tch.” You’ve said that before, too.
You leaned down, and nuzzled the hollow of his cheek while he grumbled and grumped. “You don't like the idea of breeding me anymore? You don't want me to yourself, all caught up in your bedsheets with you between my legs? Hm? You don't wanna fuck me through my heat, knock me up a few more times, make me bare your children for the world to see how I belong to Ryoumen Sukuna? You don't want me to be drenched in your scent–” 
You squeaked when your man flipped you around, pinning you before ripping off the sleep shorts keeping your skin from him. His rough fingers dove deep into your slicked up hole (apparently your long list of hypotheticals had worked you up into a soft, wet, pliant thing) and hurried to stretch you wide. 
“Such an annoying little shit,” Sukuna grumbled. And you laughed, lightly and so achingly genuinely through your fluttery mewls and moans. “If you try ‘n back out this time, I'll break your fucking legs and tie you down to the bed, you got that? I'm not gonna be so fucking nice this time.”
“Eh? You were being nice last–” you whined when his wet fingers jammed into your mouth. But you obediently sucked and bit at them, holding onto his muscled arm for leverage while he kicked off his bottoms and pressed his sweltering tip to your soft entrance. 
“You got no idea, princess.” Sukuna pushed in, groaning with ancient, cursed need as your insides welcomed him and obeyed, letting his uncomfortable size push you open. Seemed your body still remembered him. Wanted him as much as your stupid pretty mouth claimed. 
You were gasping, your molars chewing into his fingers as your missing piece slid back into place, filling you up until it hurt to breathe. Strong thighs clamped down against Sukuna’s sides as he dragged you down, forcing the last bits of his cock into your very depths, squeezing a reedy whine out of you, before he pulled out and slammed right back in again and again and again.
Your cry nearly sent him over the edge. It was a loud, bassy thing, something like a cello toppling or having its string plucked too hard by a callous touch–a sound Sukuna reveled in. You were the only partner he'd had that was like this, so demanding and bitchy, absolutely horrible and as poisonous as alphas were, and he loved it. He lived and died by your gospel, by the very life that thrummed underneath his touch.
And you promised to be all his. Sukuna could have everything, anything and anyone, and that apparently included trapping and claiming a god. One that only he prayed to. One that'd only smile upon him. One that only delivered to him divine blessings. 
What a divine gift.
He folded you in half with ease and blanketed your trembling body with his own. The fingers fucking into your mouth slipped out and down to your throat where they squeezed lightly; then, they traveled to the back of your neck, found your cute little nape, and squeezed. 
Your eyes rolled back as your body arched up into him. Words left you in some ancient tongue neither you nor Sukuna could decipher. But it was a language of love and pleasure, the sort that brought delicious submission coiling through your blood in offering to the lowly creature devouring your holiness. 
“Sukuna,” you choked out. Your fingers dug into his shoulder and fisted in his hair, pulling him closer to the old, scarred mark left there by him a decade ago. “‘Kuna, I need–” 
The boss laughed low, but with fluttery, manic high tones warped throughout. “Need me to bite you? Mark you mine again?” He taunted. His nails dug into your soft side as he fucked into you harder, lifting your waist up to meet his brutal angle as his base started to swell. “I wanna hear you say it–say you need it, you want it. Say you need me to fill your guts every fucking night. Say I'm the only one who can get you there. I'm the only one–” his other hand grabbed your nape harder, forcing your submission further, forcing your neck to the side to present it to him. 
Then, with a snarl, he added, “say ‘I do.’” 
Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as you murmured those very words into his ear. 
I do. 
Sukuna's heart howled with the beast living inside him. Blood flooded his mouth when he tore into your shoulder, digging deeper than needed to brand you his again just before his pulsing knot squeezed into you and locked into place, stilling his wild rampage and holding you hostage beneath his hulking body. 
You shifted and writhed against him, so obviously overwhelmed by such an archaic, crazed union–your omega must have been going wild, willing you to fight against the monster pouring his seed into you, locking you in place, taking away your autonomy. But a short, rough warning growl settled your inner self the slightest bit and straightened out your thoughts enough for your human pettiness to urge you, too, to sink teeth into flesh and mark up your alpha to complete the re-bonding. 
Good boy. Sukuna's hips rutted against you in light pulses, attempting to jam his knot further into you to ensure you'd take everything he so graciously offered you. But every little move your bodies made together tore more hot strings of cum out of him and into your core. Apparently an eternity of not having you was culminating into this one moment. 
You were the one to let go first. You collapsed onto your back with a loud sigh, and the crushing constriction of your thighs laxed just slightly. 
“Fuck,” you gasped, wholly content and pleased. Your hand wiggled between your bodies and rested on the still-inflating curve that your partner had oh-so loving built out of cum and obsessive dedication. “That's gonna make a mess.” 
Good. Sukuna's chainsaw purr reverberated against your bloodied skin. He chewed into you further and relished in the taste and smell of you, the way it mingled with his own scent of existence and made him feel so irrevocably whole. 
Your fingers laced through his hair as you laughed. “Oi, let go already. Your knot's not gonna go down for like thirty minutes. I'm not going anywhere.” 
Your mate obliged, dislodging his chunky fangs from you and lapping at the wound dutifully until the bleeding staunched. Next, he got to work leaving an array of dark hickies and light bites all over your neck and shoulder, just in case the gnarly bite mark wasn't enough to ward off idiots who thought they had a chance with you. He grumbled at the mere idea of it. 
“So?” You cooed, running your hands up and down his muscled shoulders. “What do we do for half an hour?”
Sukuna scoffed. He tried to pull out just a bit, just to see if he was seriously locked in there, and you spat a vile hiss his way, your nails digging into him at the same time. And, fuck, you were tight–
“Fuck.” He didn't think this through.
-- DRABBLES --
“You're dumb as fuck, you know that?” 
“Ah, such romantic words to hear from my wife.”
“Husband, jackass.” 
Sukuna managed to open his eyes through the pounding of his head. God, he felt like shit. But that probably came with the territory of getting shot point-blank before bailing out of a moving car on the highway. Honestly, he was lucky only one car hit him when he hit the pavement. 
Still, it was bad enough to warrant him a ticket to the hospital. Uraume worked behind the scenes, ensuring their boss got a private room and that the police would stay the fuck away if they knew what was good for them, and it all somehow worked out. Uraume was definitely a sorcerer of sorts.
“Can you save it for home? Fucking hell,” Sukuna groaned, letting his eyes fall shut again. “Too tired to argue.” 
“That's a first,” You huffed, and marched up to his side, sitting down in the cozy seat waiting for you. Your careful touch prodded at his hand gently, as if assessing the damage, guestimating if you could hold his hand without hurting him, but he made the choice for you. He caught your hand weakly, and you held him safe with both of yours. 
“Missed you,” he grumbled, squeezing back lamely. “Have fun on the trip at least?”
“Yeah, until I heard what happened.” You sighed, watery and warbled. “I shouldn't have left. You're too stupid to survive alone.”
Sukuna laughed, then coughed. He felt you tense. “F-Fuck you, little shit. I'm fine.”
“You got shot.”
“Been shot before.”
“Jumped out of a car.”
“I've jumped outta faster.”
“Then got hit by another car.”
“That was a first.”
You sighed to fight back either a sob or ill-placed laughter, or maybe both. “This is so fucking ridiculous. Never make me take a vacation again. I can't be off fucking around in Hawaii when my baby daddy's getting hit like it's GTA.” 
“Christ, I already–” he paused, though, and cracked an eye open to look at you. “What did you…” 
He lost his words when he saw you. Your skin glowed in a way he hadn't had the luxury to see before. Your face looked rounder, too, like you'd put on a little bit of weight since you'd been gone. But your scent–your usual sweet, full-bodied scent of flowery coffee was cranked up to a trillion. If Sukuna's nose wasn't busted, he would've noticed the way it filled up the room, and he might've noticed how his own scent rose to meet it in greeting. Something strange was happening. 
“Oh. Right. Uh…” you cleared your throat and hastily tucked some hair behind your ear. You looked a little bit lost for words too, in all honesty. “I’m pregn–”
Sukuna sat up. You barked at him to lay down, your voice rising a few octaves when something that was probably important dislodged from his wrist as he reached forward when you stood. And you froze when his palm pressed against your stomach–a natural, maternal thing to do. Sukuna remembered when he caught your cat for you when she was trying to dart out the door whilst pregnant, and how she froze dead in her tracks when his hand caught her by her kitten-filled stomach, and let him carry her back inside. 
But this was different. This wasn’t his partner’s cat’s kittens he was feeling, it was yours. His. A shared little nugget doing its best to grow big for its expectant mama–and now expectant papa. 
“How long?” Sukuna rasped. When did his throat get so dry? 
“Two months. Ish.” You rested your hands over his again despite the awkward angle he caught you at. “I didn’t know until last week. I tried to call, but–” You got obliterated and couldn’t answer your phone.
“I get it. Don’t gotta explain.” Sukuna gazed at your stomach a moment longer with droopy, half-lidded eyes before looking up at you as nurses burst into the room. “You’re moving in.”
And for once, you didn’t argue. 
“Dude, you guys can't fuck when he's pregnant! You'll crush the baby like a tin can!” 
You snorted and tried to cover your mouth as your tea shot out your nose. You coughed and wheezed, turning away and waving at the brothers in a desperate plea for them to not look and continue their petty argument.
Sukuna, caught between the urge to mock you and kick the shit out of his annoying little fucknut brother, sighed and rubbed his face before handing you his fancy handkerchief he kept tucked in the breast of his jacket for nothing but looks. These days, though, the damn thing had been paying its dues. 
“You think I'm gonna listen to a fuckin’ virgin about this kinda shit?” Sukuna quipped back as he watched you clean up before trying to take a sip of your drink again. 
“Hey, man, I'm just saying. Your dick is like a third leg.” 
You slammed your hand down on the table after spitting a mouthful of tea back into your cup. “Yuuji. Please. Why do you even know that?” 
Yuuji pouted and scooted closer to you under the kotatsu. “Wh--we're brothers! It's not even that weird!” 
“It's weird as shit,” Sukuna offered as he reached out to rub your back. 
“So not weird.” His honeyed eyes locked onto the small affection the older showed you. “Man, so not fair you guys are ganging up on me now that you're, like, a thing,” Yuuji whined and let his arms and chest flop across the table like a petulant child. 
Sukuna smirked. “Jealous?”
You grumbled. “Sukuna. Don't start.”
Yuuji's ears turned bright red. “Jea–what?! No! I like girls like Jennifer Lawrence, not--I don't–”
“N'awe, little pup's tryna cope with losing.” Sukuna grinned wildly when Yuuji's head snapped up, pinning a deadly stare onto the older alpha. “Oh? Finally grow a pair?” 
“Sukuna,” you warned again.
“You better shut it, dude,” Yuuji threatened next, and you knew it was a lost cause; two alpha brothers, both incredibly competitive, both pining for the same omega, spelled disaster. 
Your partner laughed that familiar, ugly laugh–the sort that was too genuine and sounded borderline insane. “Or what? You gonna make me cry–” 
Yuuji launched over the table in an instant, tackling his brother to the ground with a bratty snarl. You watched on, unimpressed, waiting for any signs of their wrestling turning into a serious fight, but it never came. So, you enjoyed it a bit. It wasn't everyday the two idiots played nice. 
You rested your hands on your curved stomach while the two growled and snarled half-heartedly in their dumb attempt to subdue the other. Sukuna could've won in an instant, you both knew that, but he'd let Yuuji think he had a fighting chance for a little bit. It was part of the fun for him, letting his little brother gnaw on him like it'd do anything, letting him try to use his horrible jiu-jitsu skills on his older, bigger brother. It reminded you of–
“Oh,” you peeped when a rowdy kick jostled your hand. It didn't come from the boys, no, it came from the tiny tot inside you. 
The boys froze and stared at you.
“Huh? What's ‘oh'?” Yuuji asked through his panting and straining. Sukuna had him in a headlock, one of his hands giving a brutal noogie to the younger's head. 
“No, just–I think she kicked. Maybe not, I don't–” but your expression brightened with delight when another little throw hit your hand. 
“No shit?” Sukuna grinned, waves of excited alpha scent rolling off of him. He face-shoved Yuuji away before sidling up next to you and pressing his palm against your stomach. You guided his touch to rest over the kicky hotspot, and sure enough–
Thump. Thump.
“Two kicks for your old man, hey?” Sukuna hummed, looking so damn triumphant. 
“Hey, hey, I wanna feel!” Yuuji scrambled over like a nightmare and wiggled up on your other side, pointedly ignoring the snarl Sukuna sent his way. “Come on, it's my niece, chill out.”
Sukuna growled again, but you pulled his hand off to let Yuuji feel the little life making herself known. His eyes, too, lit up when those tiny thwacks battered his palm. 
You looked up at Sukuna dreamily, making the other's ticked expression smooth down into just mildly-annoyed; if your omega wasn't threatened, then he wasn't going to threaten. Sukuna didn't think Yuuji would hurt you, absolutely not, but anyone who came near you, or so much as accidentally bumped into you, pissed Sukuna off, sending his over-protective instincts into overdrive. He always had to rely on you to know when not to react.
“That's so cool!” Yuuji squeaked. “She's seriously in there!” 
“Where the fuck else would she be,” Sukuna grumped.
“Don't ruin his fun, Sukuna.” 
“Yeah, don’t ruin my fun!” 
“Yuuji’s banned from the house.”
“WH–HEY!!”
“Sukuna.”
“Heh.”
“What about gramps, then?” 
Sukuna paused. His heart stopped for a long, long moment. 
“What about him?” He answered, nonchalantly as possible. “Old fuck cut me off years ago.”
“He still cares,” Yuuji offered with a shrug. “And I told him about the pup ‘n everything.”
Sukuna frowned. “Yuuji–”
“You seriously think he doesn't give a shit? Dude, be real, the guy raised us.” 
“That's generous.” 
“Didn't you say you were leaving everything to Yuuji and ‘the old fart’ originally?” You cooed, unhelpful as ever. 
Carmine eyes found yours. “...If he actually wants to meet her–” 
“Awesome, I’ll let him know!” 
“Oi, runt–”
But Yuuji jumped up and pulled his phone out, leaving Sukuna to wonder what he’d just gotten himself into while you laughed at his misery. 
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