#part2

05.2026

I didn’t make it back home Tribe!

This is Part 2 of the 111 Manifestation Technique, and I’m still moving because stopping isn’t an option right now.

I thought I had enough time to explain this… but they didn’t back off.

They found me...

So I’m saying what I can while I’m still ahead.

୧ ‧₊˚ 🍮 ⋅ ☆ 𑁤˖ ~~ ˚

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ་༘࿐⋆˚࿔ 𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ ༓･*˚⁺‧͙

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞ ༺✦✮✦༻✧

⋆˚𝜗 𝜚

𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝟑???

Three days passed since the ‚unspoken break-up’ and without a word from Sukuna. No angry texts, no late-night calls, no sudden appearances at your door. The silence was deafening. You checked your phone obsessively, even when you knew it was pointless but you didn’t call or text him either.

You found yourself scrolling through old pictures of the two of you - happier times, before everything got so complicated. Before you started caring too much and he to less. Your apartment felt too quiet, too big. You couldn't focus on work. You barely ate. It was pathetic, really, how much one person could affect you.

Meanwhile, Sukuna was doing exactly what he said he would do. He kept himself busy. Too busy. Work lunches, business meetings, late nights at the office. When he wasn't working, he was out with friends or at the gym. He'd even gone on a date with some woman from his office - a tall, gorgeous thing named Yuna who laughed at all his jokes and leaned into his touch. It could be perfect.

It wasn‘t.

He couldn't focus on the conversations at dinner. Yuna's smile was too bright, her laughter too loud. She was perfect on paper - beautiful, intelligent, ambitious. But Sukuna felt nothing. No spark, no interest. Just a hollow emptiness in his chest that grew heavier with every passing moment.

He cut the date short, making up some excuse about an early morning meeting. Yuna looked disappointed but didn't press him. As he drove home alone, he found himself gripping the steering wheel tighter than necessary. His apartment was too quiet when he got home. He poured himself a glass of whiskey and sat on the couch, staring at nothing. The silence was suffocating. He reached for his phone out of habit, thumb hovering over your contact before he remembered - you weren't talking anymore. "Fuck."

His mind drifted back to the look on your face the last time he saw you - hurt, betrayed, resigned. He remembered the soft curve of your smile before he'd broken it, the warmth of your touch before he'd pushed you away. He downed his whiskey like it was poison. For the first time since you'd met, Sukuna was truly alone. No work to distract him, no friends to drown out the silence. Just him and his thoughts, which were darker than he cared to admit. He missed your voice, your laugh, even your stubborn arguments. He picked up his phone again, thumb hovering over your contact. Three days. You hadn't fought back. You hadn't texted him stupid memes. You hadn't asked if he was okay after work. You just... left. And for some reason, that pissed him off more than anything else you could have done.

He threw the phone on the coffee table and poured another drink. Week one ended. Still no contact. By week two, Sukuna was canceling more plans than he was keeping. His colleagues noticed he was getting short-tempered, snapping at anyone who looked at him wrong. Yuna texted him - he didn't reply.

Then, Friday night, after getting off a late call, he found himself driving. He pulled up outside your apartment building, engine idling. It was late, the streets quiet. His heart was pounding in his chest - whether from anger or something else, he wasn't sure. He sat there for a long moment before finally turning off the engine and getting out of the car. The night air was cool against his skin as he walked up to your door. He hesitated for only a second before knocking - three sharp raps that echoed in the quiet hallway. It was past midnight.

Inside, you were curled up on the couch, wearing one of his old hoodies you'd never returned. The TV played some mindless show you weren't actually watching. You heard the knock and froze. Your heart skipped a beat before you slowly got up, walking to the door on quiet feet. You looked through the peephole and saw him standing there - tall, broad-shouldered, hands shoved in his pockets.

His expression was unreadable.

For a moment, you considered not answering. But then he spoke, his voice muffled but clear through the door. "I know you're in there." He sounded tired, not angry. "Open the fucking door." You unlocked it slowly, opening it just a crack. Sukuna stood there, looking unchanged - same sharp features, same intense eyes, same expensive cologne. His gaze dropped to the hoodie you wore, his expression softening just a fraction. Then it was gone, replaced by his usual scowl. "Let me in." He said gruffly, pushing the door open wider and stepping inside without waiting for a response.

He walked straight through your small apartment like he owned the place, which was annoying because for a brief moment, he actually had helped you buy it. Before everything went to shit. He stopped in the middle of the living room, turning to face you. The silence stretched between you like a physical thing.

He looked tired. Dark circles under his eyes. His jaw was tight.

"You're wearing my hoodie." He commented abruptly, breaking the silence. His eyes raked over you, taking in the way the fabric swallowed you whole, how the sleeves covered your hands. It was stupidly large on you. "And you look like shit." „Are you here to insult me?“ you ask.

"No." He said gruffly, running a hand through his hair in frustration. For a moment, he just stood there, looking around your apartment like it held answers to questions he hadn't asked out loud. "I'm here because..." He paused.„Because?“ you said, looking with hope in your eyes at him. He caught the look in your eyes and something inside him twisted. That fucking hope. The same hope he'd crushed. The same hope he'd told himself he was protecting you from. It made his chest ache in a way he hated. "Don't look at me like that." He said harshly, turning away. "I'm not here to apologize." „Then why are you here?“ you ask, your Voice trembling.

He turned back to face you, his expression hard. He was good at this - pushing you away, being an asshole. It was easier than letting you in. Easier than admitting he actually give a fuck about you.

„Sukuna…“ you said soft taking a step closer.

He froze as you stepped closer, his eyes locked onto yours. Your voice was soft, gentle. Everything he wasn't. He hated how much he missed that softness. "Stop." He snapped, taking a step back. "I'm not here for this." He gestured between you two. „Then why the fuck are you here?“ you snap at him. His eyes flashed with something dangerous at your snap. He liked this version of you less - the angry one. It made him want to push harder. "I don't know!" He shouted back, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

"Maybe I just wanted to see your fucking face!"

„Fine you seen it now, anything else?“ you hiss.

The second the words left your mouth, he was across the room, backing you against the door. His hands slammed the wood on either side of your head, caging you in. His face was inches from yours, chest heaving.

"I can’t without you, Woman" He growled, his voice low and raw. His eyes dropped to your lips.

„Don’t make me say it twice“

You could see the war in his eyes - the anger, the frustration, the longing. His breath fell hot against your face, his scent surrounding you. One of his hands left the door to grip your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. "Say something." He demanded, thumb pressing against your bottom lip. "Yell at me."

„You know i wont yell at you and you know that i can’t live without you either“. His eyes closed for a moment at your words, a pained expression crossing his face. When he opened them again, they were filled with a quiet desperation. His grip on your chin tightened just a fraction. "Then fucking kiss me." He whispered harshly, pressing his forehead against yours. "Before I do something stupid like beg."

You didn't hesitate. Your hands gripped the front of his shirt and pulled him down, smashing your lips against his. It was messy and desperate and perfect. Sukuna groaned into your mouth, his hand sliding from your chin to grip the back of your neck, holding you there as he deepened the kiss.

He tasted like home.

Tongues wrestled fiercely. Teeth clashed. Breaths mingled. Your body pressed against the door, his pressed against yours. Every hardened muscle, every sharp edge, every dangerous curve was against you. His other hand gripped your hip possessively, pulling you against him.

He broke the kiss just long enough to growl against your lips. "Missed you." Then his mouth was on yours again, this time slower, hungrier. His teeth nipped at your bottom lip before sucking it into his mouth. His grip on your hip tightened, fingers digging into you through the thin fabric.

He pulled back suddenly, eyes dark with want.

"Bedroom." He ordered gruffly, letting go of you and stepping back. His chest rose and fell rapidly, pupils dilated. He looked wrecked and perfect. He gestured impatiently with his hand.

"Now."

His voice was low, commanding. Expectant. "Before I fuck you against this door instead." You didn't argue. You moved quickly towards the bedroom, Sukuna hot on your heels. As soon as you reached it, he kicked the door shut behind him and pushed you onto the bed. His hands went to his belt, unbuckling it while staring down at you with intense hunger.

The belt hit the floor with a thud. His shirt followed, revealing that chiseled chest you used to trace patterns on when he slept. His pants came next, leaving him in just his boxers which did nothing to hide his hard length. He crawled onto the bed over you like a predator. His hands gripped your legs, pulling them apart and making room for himself between them. His voice was low, almost dangerous when he spoke. "No sweet talk. No gentle fucking. If you need me to slow down, tap my chest. Otherwise..." He rubbed himself against you. His hands framed your face, holding you still for a deep, searching kiss. His hips pressed against yours, his hardness prominent even through the thin fabric of his boxers. He broke the kiss to trail open-mouthed kisses down your neck, his hands roaming possessively over your body. He yanked your (his) Hoddie up, breaking the kiss to pull it off completely. Your breasts bounced free and he growled, lowering his mouth to one nipple while pinching the other. His hips rolled against yours, making you feel every inch of his hard cock. He worked your Thong off in one swift motion, tossing them aside. His boxers followed. The sight of his bare cock had your breath catching - thick and long, precum already leaking from the tip. He lined himself up with your entrance, pushing just the head inside.

"Still fucking tight for me." He groaned against your neck, not moving yet. His hips jerked suddenly, pushing his entire length inside without warning. You gasped and arched your back, taking him deep. He growled in approval, bottoming out inside you completely before pulling back and doing it again, establishing a brutal pace right from the start. "Fuck... missed this pussy." He pounded into you without mercy, each thrust hitting that perfect spot. Your moans filled the room, mixing with his grunts. One of his hands gripped your thigh, pushing your leg higher to get a better angle. The other went to your hair, pulling your head back so he could mark your neck.

He felt so fucking good. His pace became erratic, harder, faster. The bed slammed against the wall with each brutal thrust. His hips slapped against yours, skin on skin. You were close - so close - and he could feel your walls clenching around him. "Not yet." He growled, grabbing both your wrists in one hand and pinning them above your head.

He changed the angle of his hips, targeting a spot that made your vision white out. He did it again and again, hitting it perfectly each time. His free hand went between your bodies, finding your clit and pinching it hard. He bit down on your neck, sucking bruises into your skin as he fucked you relentlessly.

Your orgasm hit suddenly, your pussy clamping down on his cock like a vice. He swore loudly, thrusts stuttering as your walls milked him. But he didn't stop - he kept fucking you through it, extending your pleasure until you were seeing stars. As soon as your orgasm started to fade, he pulled out suddenly, flipping you onto your stomach in one swift motion. He grabbed your hips and pulled them up, entering you from behind with a deep groan. His hands gripped your ass cheeks, spreading them wide as he fucked you brutally.

He reached around to grab your tits, squeezing them hard as he slammed into you from behind. His balls slapped against you with each thrust. He was so deep in this position, hitting spots he hadn't reached before. You were whimpering and moaning uncontrollably. "Fuck..." One of his hands slid down your stomach, finding your clit again. He rubbed harsh circles while continuing to pound into you from behind. He watched your body, saw how your back arched with each thrust, how your hair spilled over your shoulders.

His other hand gripped your shoulder, using it for leverage as he started to fuck you even harder. The bed was shaking, the headboard slamming against the wall. You felt completely stuffed with his thick, hard dick, your pussy dripping wet around him. "Take it..." He suddenly pulled out completely, leaving you empty and gasping. Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your back again and lifted your legs over his shoulders. He entered you in one deep thrust, hitting your cervix immediately. "Look at me." He demanded roughly.

When your eyes met his, you saw pure possessiveness. Love and hunger and a need that went beyond physical. He started fucking you at a slower but deeper pace, making eye contact the entire time. Each thrust was deliberate, controlled, designed to make you feel every vein, every inch.

"I'm not leaving again." His words hit harder than his cock. Your chest tightened. Tears pricked at your eyes - not from sadness, but from something overwhelming and terrifying. He must have seen it, because his pace faltered for a second.

"Don't fucking cry." He growled, leaning down to kiss the tears before they could fall. "Just stay."

„I will“ you sniff. Something seemed to break inside him at your words. He kissed you roughly, deeply, tasting salt and promises. His hips snapped forward, fucking you hard and fast again.

But it wasn't angry or brutal this time - it was relieved, grateful, filled with emotion. "Good girl." His thrusts became erratic, his jaw clenched. You felt him thicken inside you, his balls tightening. He buried his face in your neck, biting down hard as he came - shooting deep inside you with a guttural groan.

"Yours." He panted against your skin, still not pulling out. "Only fucking yours." He wrapped his arms around your legs, keeping them spread wide and his dick buried inside you. He rolled onto his back, pulling you on top of him. You felt his hot cum leaking out around his still-hard dick, mixing with your own wetness. "Stay like this."

He held you there for what felt like hours, his cock softening but never leaving your pussy completely. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back and thighs. Occasionally he would kiss you deeply or murmur things that sounded like promises and apologies. Your Hands interwhine wich eachother.

And for the first time Sukuna do Aftercare

Anyways got all the decor now I need to fill 90 balloons with air 😔

Also its been around 26 hours with no sleep