#This manifests in him being a brat
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hatterladz · 3 days ago
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Gonna ramble about my IM x Castle in the Sky AU again
So again I'm a huge fan of the idea that Cup is a mama's boy, but that wasn't always the case
Mugs and Cup were still pulled away from home for awhile and Cup still ended up expiremented on by Hat [although not bc he sold his soul the demon was just greedy and curious]
Cup and Mugs end up staying there for 3-4 years until the dishes found them again and took them back home. And while Mugs is happy to be home, 17 year old Cup is angry with BOTH of his parents
It isn't until Demi risks herself to keep Cup and Mugs safe that Cup actually starts to bond with his mom again. And it's still a slow process. One thing they fight on about a lot is Cup being respectful to Canni. Cup still loves his dad don't get me wrong but he hasn't earned the same respect that his mom did yet.
Demi is frustrated with both Cup and Canni because Cannikin just tells her to "be patient" and "he'll come around on his own". This doesn't stop Canni from doing nice things for Cup like making him hot chocolate on one of Cup's rough mental health days.
Also Cup found it easier to forgive Demi because it wasn't Demi's idea to leave it was Canni's [or that's what he's telling himself]
So ya Cup is a mama's boy because I got a HINT of it in canon when he was still a toddler and I took it and RAN.
Bonus mother-son fluff;
-Sometimes Demi has to plan or navigate late at night, and when Cup doesn't sleep he just sits down and watches her work, she'll make room for him to sit, neither of them say anything and eventually Cup will fall back asleep
-She ends up keeping a few dandehogs on the ship that Cup is really attached to so long as he takes care of them and doesn't make Canni do it and that "it's his fault if they get blown off since it's windy"
-Cup is a full stop supporter of his mom's mission to Be A Nuisance To Black Hat, since now he's confident that she can hold herself in a fight with Hat and he also hates Hat
-Demi teases Cup about having no girlfriend a bit after Cala comes onto the ship, it's one of the few times that Cup looks to Canni for help [except Canni isn't going to tell his wife to stop so Cup's really on his own here]
-When they were first reunited there was a lot of back and forth of Demi trying to get Cup to do things that would be better for him, after Cup figured out she'll force him to do it anyway is when he began his days of malicious compliance. Even after they get along more, Cup still does this over smaller things, but it's more out of wanting to mess with her. Demi isn't sure if she's proud or annoyed when she says "bring me something to write on" and he brings her a clipboard instead of a paper and pen
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sharlsworld · 3 months ago
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༘˚⋆𐙚。⋆ baby love - 𝐋𝐍𝟒 𖤓
( 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀 )𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗑 𝗌𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗓 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
( 𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒 )𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗂𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝗅𝖺𝗇𝖽𝗈 𝗇𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗂𝗌 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝗍𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗂𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝖾’𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝖼𝖺𝗅𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾,𝖻𝖺𝖻𝗒 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾
𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 ✫ 𝗂 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗂 𝗁𝖺𝖽 𝗓𝖾𝗋𝗈 𝗂𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗌 𝗂’𝗆 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈𝗋𝗋𝗒 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗉𝗈𝗌𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌 𝗂 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝗅 𝗌𝗈 𝗌𝗈 𝖻𝖺𝖽
🝮
yn
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yn the past 2 days
landonorris baby love my baby love
⤷ yn i need ya, oh how i need ya
⤷ alex_albon just date already please
⤷ georgerussell63 Seriously, it’s getting old at this point
⤷ carlossainz55 Seriously, it’s seriously getting old. Seriously Lando. Seriously.
⤷ landonorris 😏
⤷ yn not yet
⤷ landonorris 😔
sharls.eclair carlos telling lando to date his BABY SISTER is another level of approval
landolovesyn lando norris don’t know what to do with allat
⤷ landonorris instagram should make a dislike button
⤷ yn bruv
francisca.cgomes is that another lando shopping spree i see?? 👀
⤷ yn yurppp
carlossainz55 Brat baby
⤷ yn stay mad
alexandrasaintmleux Pretty baby
⤷ lordperceval i love how a lot of her nicknames have baby in them 😭
maxfewtrell Why’s bro hanging out of the golf cart
⤷ yn fattie almost tipped us over
♥︎ by landonorris
🝮
landonorris
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landonorris supposed to be in a meeting but my baby love got bored
mclaren The meeting is about you Lando, please join immediately
⤷ landonorris no hablo inglés
judebellingham 😍😍
⤷ landonorris brah ��
carlossainz55 Please return my baby sister unharmed and in one piece please
lilymhe Cutie pie 💘💘
⤷ yn you’re the reason why 😉
alex_albon My invite must’ve gotten lost in the mail or something
⤷ georgerussell63 Mine too
⤷ yn or something
maxfewtrell Why don’t you skip meetings for me lando norris?
estiebestie ‘my baby love’ will never get tired of hearing him call her that 🥹
oscarpiastri Yeah mate I just got a ass chewing for you being so down bad
⤷ danielricciardo So down bad for a girl you’re not even dating
⤷ landonorris Alright bro who asked you??
charles_leclerc I know that smile, she just got her fries and milkshake delivered
⤷ landonorris whatever dude. what. ever.
🝮
landonorris
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landonorris heaven on earth
yn awhh lan you sweet talker
alexandrasaintmleux Correct 😍❤️
charles_leclerc “Did you take it?”
⤷ arthur_leclerc “Does it look candid?”
⤷ yn it’s like you guys are praying on my downfall idk
oscarpiastri I’m afraid she had you wrapped around her finger mate
⤷ carlossainz55 Like a puddle in the palm of her hand
⤷ sainzpoet hello??
lilymhe Sooo pretty I’m in love 💕
⤷ landonorris no I’M in love not you lily
alex_albon Petition for lando and y/n to start dating already
⤷ landonorris i’ll be waiting for whenever she’s ready
⤷ yn grwm
♥︎ by landonorris and 628,139 others
francisca.cgomes giving mermaid 🧜‍♀️🧜‍♀️
logansargeant Is that my paddle board?
⤷ yn of course not why would you think such a thing logan…
🝮
landonorris
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landonorris first date kinda nervousss
carlossainz55 And we all clapped
alexandrasaintmleux The sigh I just sighed
maxfewtrell Oooh going for the elegant look I see 😉
landoonewin SCREAMINGRIGHTNOW
georgerussell63 Looking like a million bucks
charles_leclerc Cheeee lookin snazzy
francisca.cgomes for sure giving old money
alex_albon someone cleans up nice
oscarpiastri Bro manifested this
estiebestie i love that everyone is freaking out because lando wore a suit 😭😭
carmenmmundt Can’t wait to hear all about it from my babayyy
yn 🙉🙉 i got ready guys
pierregasly Don’t forget deodorant
landonorris why is everyone acting like this is my first time taking a girl out
⤷ carlossainz55 This is your first time taking THE girl out
⤷ landonorris you right
🝮
yn
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yn first & last boyfriend
landonorris DAMN STRAIGHT
landonorris LANDO NORIZZ WHO? I DONT KNOW RHAY GUY
landonorris ON TOP OF THE WORLD RIGHT NOW YOU GUYS DONT UNDERSTAND
carlossainz55 ❤️❤️❤️
alexandrasaintmleux Yess babyyy so so happy for you love 💞
alexandrasaintmleux Leo is very happy too
⤷ yn awhhh stop i miss you two
carmenmmundt Proud to say that I’ve been here since day 1❣️
francisca.cgomes an official wag instead of an honorary one now!!!
lilymhe I guess it’s okay only because he’s been dedicated forever
lilyzneimer 🩵🩵
alex_albon lando’s having a field day
🝮
landonorris
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liked by yukitsunoda0511 and 4,126,255 others
landonorris i’d wait a million more lifetimes for you baby love 🤍
georgerussell63 Crazy son of a bitch did it
carlossainz55 But why is that picture in your camera roll Lando Norris?
⤷ landonorris april fools!!! hahaha!!! 😥
charles_leclerc Got the girl
maxfewtrell Let’s go boys 🙌🏽🥇
mclaren We love to see the progress of this beautiful love story 🧡
alexandrasaintmleux This is so cute
alex_albon Finally got wifed up 🥳🥳
scuderiaferrari Our favorite love story 🫣
lewishamilton Young love
fernandoalo_oficial Crazy kids
danielricciardo At last
yn of course 💓
carlossainz55 And they lived happily ever after
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godjo · 3 months ago
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✮ — altar girl.
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hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire?
tags — true form!sukuna x concubine/f!reader. 3k wc. explicit smut. dubcon at first (trust me in this one pls). exhibitionism. thigh riding. doggy style. manhandling. rough sex. womb fucking. humongous cock!sukuna (hello???). multiple orgasms. mindbreak. drool. cunnilingus bordering on tongue-fucking. orgasm denial once. he carries you. creampie. lots of cum. fuckton of religious symbolism. physical violence against the reader but not from sukuna. sukuna calls you brat like one time. minors, ageless, and blank blogs dni.
from hunter — not to be dramatic or whatever but i do feel like this fic took a huge chunk off of my sanity … the things i do for sukuna omg … if this flops i will officially retire from tumblr /j + also it's 3 am for me so i didn't proofread the last bits and i prolly got lazy ... ha ha ... ✮
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gods exist. 
the annals of history tell us so.
they exist in a way that no mortal can comprehend, for a god is more than a face. they leave their imprints not with their feet but with the rise and fall of dynasties, the ruination of empires, and the death of kings. they materialize as the birth of a deluge and they rise as the reason for war. it is not the body that proves their existence but the carnage they leave behind. 
they have manifested before human eyes through myriad guises, and once again incarnated in the flesh of ryomen sukuna. 
many have met their untimely demise at his hands; he walks the earth with their tormented souls at his feet. from village to village, their numbers increased until a procession of weeping thickened behind him. hundreds of graves mark the land since his advent, and yet the heavens remain deaf to the hysterical prayers for justice. only he can hear the prayers; only he laughs at them. 
they say he is a devil. you say he is a god. because only a god can saturate the earth with blood and emerge unpunished from such transgression. hasn’t it been written that wherever the fire of evil blazes, a god will be there to douse it? but who saves the damned if a god kindled the fire? 
ryomen sukuna, in a form of some twisted mockery, decides to act the part. and so like every famished god, he demands a sacrifice to satisfy his voracious appetite. you would think that a house of gold would placate his hunger for blood, but riches mean nothing to him. his appetite needs flesh and it is flesh he got. 
“have i been too lenient that you’d dare fight amongst yourselves when i’m not around?” his voice reverberates inside the room. low, guttural, and pregnant with malice. it is enough to scorch everyone’s lungs with tension. 
you want to run away from this nightmare. go back to the peaceful bliss of mundanity when sukuna is only a piece of horrifying tale used to frighten children and not an absolute being seated cross-legged mere inches away. you try transporting your mind back to the days before his pillaging, before your village succumbed to his authority. yet his pervasive presence obstructs all your pathetic attempts at nostalgia. 
“look at what you did to the poor girl.” two of his four hands sweep you from your position to his lap, parading you to the rest of tearful eyes looking at him with entreaty. 
and it stings— their eyes. you’re in the claw of a savage hound from hell, ready to be devoured, with only your hadajuban as protection. even in this pitiful state, they offer no sympathy. their tears are for themselves alone despite their cruelty being the reason for your shared plight.
selfish bitches. 
“was it jealousy that caused this infighting? have i not divided my attention to all of you equally?” sukuna continuously taunts, lacing his voice with poisonous prudence. he fools no one and that’s what urges him forward. everyone knows that his seemingly laidback attitude is plain derision. nonetheless, he tastes the lingering hope in each of your faces before dragging his teeth along such pathetic daydreams.
“y… you have, my lord,” one of the women answers, her voice betraying a noticeable stutter. “if you would permit me to speak, i can offer his lordship an explanation for what transpired in the courtyard.”
sukuna emits a languid sigh as he rests his cheek upon his fist. he runs a rough hand down your arm, triggering vibration in the pit of your stomach. his hand is as huge as your face, his fingers long enough to snap your neck with ease. despite the surge of terror, you fight the urge to retch.
after a moment of battling your dread, it’s repulsion that filled you afterwards. repulsion rising from the woman’s explanation for your wretched state. the rest of the women nod their heads along with her account of how you tripped on a slippery stone multiple times, causing your current injuries, as if you’re a toddler who cannot orient her legs properly. 
they will save themselves with falsehood. 
sukuna yawns after the woman’s narration. his set of eyes seeking you after in the silence. 
“this matter is of your stupidity, then? you’ve wasted my time, brat.” he dips his cadence in amusement and disgust. 
anger flares within you, filling your nose and ears with the bitter scent of hatred, yet its heat descended down your throat, dampening your ability to defend yourself. what is one against many? there are twenty concubines in this room and nineteen of them just sold you to your demise for unintentionally raising this trifle to the lord of the land.
all of this— all of this merely because they have immersed themselves in playing a game in which you’ve been excluded since your arrival. after all, you’re just another competition for sukuna’s attention. 
“have mercy, my lord,” you whisper, on the verge of losing your sentience. “i… i mean no disrespect. it’s… it’s stupid of me—”
sukuna drawls, “speak no more of your nonsense. i have heard enough.” 
distressed apologies race past your mouth, along with entreaties that he spares your life. but you should’ve known that a god won’t turn his back on the sacrifice of blood. 
thus, when his enormous body finally moves to encase your fragility, you close your eyes and with jittering teeth have accepted your fate. you wait for the final release of death, a snap or his fist through your heart, but none came. instead, at your feet lay your torn garments, casting your nakedness before the other concubines in a humiliating display. the crisp air blows against your nipples, causing them to pucker tight. the same air turns your blood gelid, your bones immovable. 
“now, let’s see what all the fuss is about.” from behind, sukuna gropes your breasts, swirling the tips of your nipples with his fingers. “i’ll kill anyone who looks away.” the warning is vehement, ripe with threat, that even mere insects won’t dare defy it. 
is this the ultimate act of worship? to be stripped of all your layers? to be eaten?
his lips latch onto the bareness of your neck, sharp teeth dragging across the skin. the silence is thick, saved for the sound of your uneven breathing and the rustling of fabric as the concubines shift uncomfortably on their seats. sukuna’s wet and unusually long tongue starts licking the base of your shoulder to the back of your ear, before placing his thick and robust thigh between your quivering legs. 
your exposed cunt sticks to his skin, pussy folds flapping open. with practiced ease, as if manipulating the strings of a marionette, he subtly guided your movements. he has your pulsing clit riding the ridges of his thigh as if gushing all over will save you from inevitable demise. 
“m… mhm!” no longer entirely in control of your own form, you turn and sway in a helpless dance to his hands’ command. a gasp tinged with surprise and undeniable pleasure, escapes your lips and echoes softly in the confines of the room. you feel the searing heat of the concubines’ gazes drilling into you, a tangible weight of disapproval and something more primal — a flicker of envious fascination.
“for a condemned woman, aren’t you loving this too much?” sukuna takes the reins to your body. with speed that has your heavy tits bouncing, he secures your waist and drags your slick pussy faster and more recklessly. 
pleasure, sharp and electric at first, surges through your core, blossoming outwards like a firework. your cunt clenches and unclenches involuntarily, a delicious tremor wracking your body. the world narrows, sound and sight fading at the edges as every nerve ending sings with a single, glorious purpose. slowly, the intensity ebbs to leave a pleasant afterglow that paints your limbs with a newfound weight.
you’re but a tiny speck compared to sukuna’s imposing body; a feeble creature under the jurisdiction of a god. 
possessive hands have found you in your fleeting refuge, scooping your lower body up like you weigh nothing. with the tip of his finger he traces the curve of your spine, pressing enough weight to flatten your stomach against the tatami mat. 
“even your back is filled with lacerations,” he points out brusquely.
sukuna’s hefty cock drops to the base of your spine, its puffed up cocktip lazily pulsing to leak his thick liquids of pre-ejaculate. it must’ve been a whole arm laying heavy against your spine, warm with a gluttonous desire to ram itself through the sloppy confines of your pussy. 
and you lay there, waiting for his teeth and his claws and his animalistic hunger to devour. he presses his chest to your back, filling your ears with promises that he’s going to feed on you, eat you down to the marrow of your bones— and you’ll love it. 
“look at them,” sukuna hisses as he tugs at your forehead, “i want you to look at them while i fuck you.”
with your flesh you’ve received him like some kind of communion from root to tip. he hammers your cunt with his cock, until the heat of his savage lust reaches the pit of your belly. you feel his warmth soiling your cervix and uterus with every vigorous thrust. 
“oh! m… mhm!”  completely overtaken by sukuna, your thighs can only twitch as he destroys your insides. 
“you’re soaking wet,” he groans in your ear, deliberately adjusting his pace so he can coat his thick girth all over with your creamy hole, “and so fucking tight.” 
sukuna grunts like a wounded animal each time his cocktip kisses the smooth spot of your womb. a sheen of sweat glazes his body, tattoos aglow in the lanterns, from manically fucking your cunt. he bares his fangs whenever you tighten around his shaft enfolded with prominent and proud veins. 
the once vibrant forms of the concubines, their faces alight with prurient interest, dissolve into a sea of indistinct shapes as fog descends upon your sight. you’ve been reduced to a babbling and drooling mess, unable to grasp the reality that you’re being mounted and fucked to madness before several witnesses.
sukuna extends his hand, searching for your abandoned clit during his primal need to turn your pussy to pulp. 
“there it is,” he breathes against your clammy cheek, satisfied at his discovery. 
“n… no! not there…!” you pant as the last thread of reason frays and snaps. 
a tempestuous force of pleasure sweeps through you, leaving behind a tremor that has shaken you to the core. around you, a kaleidoscope of colors and sensations spins until a guttural moan runs from your lips, delivered by the exquisite torment of rapture. your nails scrape desperately across the tatami mat, clinging at the remnants of spilled sanity. 
sukuna cackles at your desperation to find a moment’s reprieve. the roughened end of his fingers dip into your yielding flesh as he forcefully slams your pussy back to his cock.  
“you’re not going anywhere,” he pronounces frenziedly, his eyes blowing wide. sukuna’s desperation for release intensifies to the point where he’s blatantly manhandling you, brutalizing your cunt and his cock during the process of reaching zenith. flesh meets flesh, fervid thrusts after fervid thrusts, until he feels that familiar coil in his own stomach. 
sukuna plugs your abused cunt with inconceivable amounts of cum. his cock pulses wildly, shooting globules straight to your womb it’s almost physically possible to feel his viscous cum filling every crevice of your uterus. when he’s finally pulled out, ropy cum still links his raw cocktip to your pulsing pussy hole. despite such a mind-numbing culmination, sukuna’s cock refuses to yield. it springs up proudly, aching for another taste.  
“what a sight,” sukuna issues with cavernous and demonic utterance, pertaining to your body lying inert upon the tatami mat. he sweeps the sodden hair from his brow with a lordly air, his pride evident in the contemptuous curve of his lips. 
look at the state he’s reduced you to. his thick ejaculation pools around your lower body because your little pussy can’t hold all of him. with an indifferent shrug, sukuna lowers his formidable body to your level. and only when the malevolent glint in his eyes becomes apparent does the gravity of the situation dawn upon you.
he starts fucking your cunt with his tongue.
you grit your teeth in response as sukuna places your knees upon his shoulders, burying the slimy width of his tongue in your heated pussy. it’s no mere licking— he’s practically shoved his tongue up your gummy walls, toying with the warmth of his cum pooled in your poor cunt while simultaneously licking your puffed up clit. 
“o… oh! c… can’t— please, please!” drool seeps between your gritted cuspids after your hysterical plea.
pearlescent tears warm the corner of your eyes. your sensitivity from his rigorous fucking has not yet abated, but another swell of release approaches at a hand’s reach. down to your heart, the bundles of nerves and veins constrict painfully because it’s too much. you have nowhere else to put the pleasure— the imminent pinnacle will utterly ruin you.
i’m losing my mind
i’m losing my mind
i’m losing my mind—
when ecstasy is but a heartbeat away, sukuna withdraws, denying you the finality your body craves. as if saved from drowning, you suck in and grace your lungs with air only to be propelled back to the brink of delirium when he lifts you up from the floor like a breeze. 
with carnal ferocity, he seizes the meaty flesh of your haunches with two of his limbs, while the others secure your torso. there and there, sukuna slots his insatiable cock in your dribbling cunt; an act that he’s accomplished without effort because you’re so wet, he’s slid right in. 
everyone has witnessed sukuna’s cock abusing your tingling pussy; all can see how he bounces your tingling cunt along his stiff length without strain. 
“yes… squeeze my cock like the obedient girl you are,” he sibilates on your face, followed by a harsh chuckle. “you can’t hear me now, can you?”
the voice is a distant echo, barely perceptible to your waning senses. your body, devoid of strength, limps completely in sukuna’s embrace. he buries his face in the crooks of your damped neck, groaning and babbling as he ruts into your swollen pussy. 
“how come you’re still so fucking tight?”
hasn’t he prepared you for his sheer girth? hasn’t he stimulated your pussy enough to hug his cock smoothly and effortlessly? you’ve already coated his balls shiny with all the slick your cunt has produced, but sukuna’s chest tightens because you’re milking him with a viselike grip. 
yes, it is human that he’s even affected by this carnal desire. what more can he do? he feels faint with exultation merely by fucking you. 
sukuna pumps your pussy to the hilt with slow yet profound thrusts. he bares his teeth down the blade of your shoulder as the maelstrom of release engulfs him completely. battered by waves of ecstasy, he grunts with your flesh between his teeth, the rough sound reverberating deep from his belly.
you must’ve reached the peak with him— you absolutely cannot tell. the only thing that your puddled mind can grasp is the swirl of his potent cum in the pit of your womb and the endless pulse of your cunt as you struggle to accommodate his release. 
petrified and silent, the remaining concubines are as fixed in place as if struck by an immobilizing spell. yet they watch— they watch intently while sukuna’s cock throbs with white strings of cum dripping from your cunt hole down to his balls and thighs. a hefty amount pools beneath him, oozing from where the both of you are connected. 
the envy that consumed them is a silent, suffocating thing, a palpable presence thick enough to choke. this envy deepens as they witness the delicacy with which sukuna has placed your dormant body on his own tatami mat. they grit their teeth secretly, throwing every known curse your way. may your womb not bear the fruits of sukuna’s seed, they vehemently pray. 
for ryomen sukuna, it’s nothing but a moment’s weakness, a foreign string of unknown emotion that you’ve managed to evoke from him. and even though he’s beyond human grace, he’s wasted your body to his own satisfaction, it’s only right to touch you with his claws retracted.
“performance is over, my dearests,” sukuna announces while a smirk tugs at his lips. facing his concubines, he dons his fundoshi haphazardly that it barely covers what it means to hide. 
“w… what will become of her, my lord?” one dares to ask. 
a fleeting, imperious gaze from sukuna sweeps over you before ushering the women from the opulent chamber. “you shouldn’t worry yourselves about such trivial matters. she will meet her own reckoning by my hands.”
a wave of malicious satisfaction ripples through the group as they exchange covert nods. you’re already a dead woman. with poisonous glee, they bow before ryomen sukuna with their faces shaped in unbridled mirth. 
“make sure that my wives are accompanied home safely,” sukuna orders the nearest guards. he tastes their fear hanging heavy in the air just by being in his presence. oh, humans. 
as the group began to retreat, they cast over their shoulders a flurry of flirtatious farewells to the imposing sukuna. however, before they could vanish entirely from sight, his deep voice cut through their progress.
“guards, before i forgot…” sukuna displays a grotesque smile filled with malice. “kill them all. i want nineteen heads on my feet tomorrow.”
they say he is a devil. 
you say he is a god. 
and despite all the names, sukuna has found himself a place of worship, with you as his altar. 
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willowser · 1 year ago
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your little angel of a son inherits katsuki's bad temper, and it manifests in his terrible fours.
there's an awful little shriek that echoes throughout the house and katsuki is on his feet and halfway to the living room before his eyes are even open—but the only danger awaiting him there is a pouty little brat.
his son is sitting amidst a swarm of toys that have been strewn about haphazardly, and his arms are crossed and big fat tears are in his eyes and he looks mad as all hell. you do, too, sitting across from him with a deep frown, holding the ripped page of a book from his little shelf.
"no sir," you warn, "we do not treat our things this way."
you incite a meltdown.
katsuki feels his own temper flaring—half from shock and awe at his little mini-me and also from the exhaustion wearing him thin—when your son kicks his legs out in a burst of rage, letting out another little shriek of anger. your cheeks puff up, wearing the same furious expression, and at the hiss of his name, the little brat jumps to his feet and snatches a toy truck nearby and launches it across the room.
"oi!"
your son's attention snaps to katsuki, startled, losing a hint of anger as he pouts at the floor.
"what'd she just tell you?" and when he gets no response, katsuki prods with a, "hah? answer me."
but the little boy only stamps his little feet and grunts out a furious, wordless sound that has katsuki's lip curling. you let out a heavy sigh, shaking your head at him before frowning down at the torn page in your hands, and then katsuki is planting a hand on the back of his son's head and steering him towards the front door.
"time to take a walk."
the boy goes, even though his arms are crossed and his eyes are downcast. he only resists once, as katsuki tries to shove his little feet into his shoes.
"i don't wanna." he mumbles, face scrunched and wet before promptly looking away.
"i didn't ask."
"hmm!"
katsuki has to resist the urge to pinch his own son.
they get out the door eventually, and the little boy stomps along for the most part, no longer needing a guiding hand on the back of his head once they get around the block a time or two. neither of them say anything.
fatherhood has taught katsuki a lot of things, which was expected, but the one thing that's surprised him is—he's learned all the things he doesn't want his son to be.
the first of them being angry. not the way katsuki was, mean and selfish, throughout his childhood; hateful and careless, in his teens; shut off and simmering, even now.
he waits until the tension has melted off his little shoulders, until his little face has dried and evened out. his arms swing at his sides, occasionally coming up to wipe his snot with the back of his hand, and he eyes the few wildflowers they pass with a little hum and a small smile.
katsuki tugs once on his ear, frowning down at the little brat when he peeks up at him. "that how you're supposed to treat your mama?"
he doesn't answer at first, leaning his head all the way back and clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, until katsuki stops walking. "no, sir."
"how you s'posed to treat her?"
"with love."
"how you s'posed to treat your toys?"
"with care."
"uh-huh," katsuki squishes his son's cheeks in his hand, shaking his head lightly from side to side until he starts giggling. "that how you acted today?"
"no, sir."
"that how y'r gonna act again?"
"no, sir."
"okay," katsuki murmurs, nodding once before letting him free. the little boy bounces on his feet and sucks on his lip, grinning when his tummy is pinched. "now pick those for your mama."
and he does, carefully plucking a small handful of flowers from the grass as they make their way back home, and just before he runs up the steps to the house, katsuki's little angel of a son hands him the biggest one.
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peachesofteal · 6 months ago
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Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / masterlist
Your hand is shaking again.
It’s a defense mechanism or something, you think. Some physical manifestation of your anxiety. Something psychological, you’re sure of it.
It’s the only thing you’re sure of, if you’re being honest.
You stalk home as fast as you can, scowl affixed to your face like it’s been cemented there, seeping deep into your frown lines, etching them like a chisel on marble.
The walk sobers you. Brings you back to rational sense, little by little.
You shouldn’t have called them. You’re so dumb. You’re asking for trouble.
But is it so bad, to want to cause an emotional reaction? To want them to be as miserable as you?
It’s pathetic. A way to seek validation. A mistake.
One you’re sure you’re going to pay for.
Your front door is unlocked.
The door pushes open nearly on its own, and your eyes struggle to adjust in the pitch black of your hallway. No light from the street spills from the living room, which means the drapes have been drawn closed.
Your heart leaps into your ears, pounding between your temples at a frenzied pace.
It’s fine. You’re fine. It’s probably them.
What if it’s not? Do you have a weapon? A way to defend yourself? You find your pepper spray in your bag, readying it between trembling fingers.
“Hello?” You call.
Nothing.
“Hello… if you’re in my flat, you better-“ a firm hand grips back of your neck, like a viper assaulting its prey, and you scream.
“It’s me.” Simon murmurs into your hair, touching over your pulse. “Jus’ me.”
“You scared the shit out of me,” you twist out of his grip, fumbling for the lights.
When they flick on, you blink a few times to adjust.
He’s a sight for sore eyes in joggers, a black sweatshirt, black hat.
His eyes burn. They scald you, roving from top to toe, his mouth sealed in a scowl. “Have a nice night, sweetheart?”
You gulp. “I- I did.”
“Thought you were clever with that phone call?”
“I… I didn’t think-“
“You didn’t.” He cuts you off, and then points to living room. “Go sit on the couch.” Your hand trembles against your chest, and you hang your head.
Got the attention you wanted?
“Where’s Johnny?” You whisper as he takes the seat next to you, massive shoulders turning so he can peer downwards.
“Decided this was better to handle on my own.” Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest.
“Oh.” Simon takes a deep breath, eyeing your shaking hand, and then shakes his head. You can’t read it, can’t ever read him, and you wait with breath frozen in your lungs, wait for him to say something, anything.
But what comes next, is not what you expected.
“Johnny’s in love with you.” You jerk back, eyebrows raised into your hairline.
“No.” Your voice trembles. “No, this… this is casual.”
“It is.” Simon’s lips press flat. “The girl at the hotel, she was a job. Had nothin’ to do with our… personal lives. She was a loose end to tie up when we got back. It was convenient, that she lived in our city.” Your mind tumbles and falls, your sense dives off a cliff.
Johnny’s in love with you.
“I don’t understand… you, after-“
“I let you believe it.” He says simply, looking down his nose at you. He’s never looked so cold. “At first, I wanted to explain, to correct it, for his sake, but… the opportunity was too good. So I told Johnny that you reminded me of our arrangement. That you agreed, that you always said you didn’t want a relationship. The situation at the bar with your date,” he smiles self indulgently “that was just for fun. Would’ve fucked ya right up against that door for the whole bar to see if you let us. Split that pretty pussy open on my cock and watch you gag on Johnny’s, but you still wanted to be a brat,” he rolls his eyes, “it was all a distraction I built for him.”
Alarm bells blare inside your skull, Johnny’s words from the other day when he brought the flowers repeating over and over.
“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“
“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.”
“No- no. He… he came here, he made it sound-“
Simon studies you. “He’s explosive, sometimes. Doesn’t handle his emotions well, gets all twisted up. I think when he came over here, he wanted you to tell him you wanted more,” he sighs, rubs his chin. “He’s so out of sorts over it all, poor boy.”
“Why? Why didn’t you… why didn’t you tell him the truth? Or me?” His lips curl into a sneer.
“Because Johnny is mine. I might share his body with you, sweet girl, but I won’t share his heart.”
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giuliettagaltieri · 9 months ago
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Claim the Heritage
Pairing: President!Coriolanus Snow x First Lady!Reader
Chapter Synopsis: The Wife
Warning: casual dominance, marital quarrels, tension, vulnerability, explicit smut, cunnilingus, p in v, unprotected sex, body worship, brat taming, self destructive tendencies
Word Count: 4364
6 of 6
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Coriolanus Snow has a knack of pushing himself too far.
He expects too much from himself and does everything in his power to meet those expectations.
As a student and a starting politician, he has done great things, contributing fresh insights to Panem.  And now that he is the President, he has the power to do things with his own hands.  No longer having to need the approval of people of higher status, not when he’s the President, nobody has power greater than his.
You worry that he might be forgetting his other responsibilities.
He is after all, not just Mister President but also your husband.
You see him often in the corridors and you exchange nothing more than sultry glances.  It was fun the first time you have done it but you are left wanting now.
At night, the two of you come home late, too tired to get some action going.
You have needs that long to be fulfilled.
And your unfed desires manifested in your temper.
The men in the room are discussing the recent power outage that paralyzed Panem for a day.  A malfunction caused by severe water temperatures in the hydroelectric dam in District 5 caused a cascading error in the system.  The Capitol and a portion of District 1 and 2 were able to continue their operation due to generators but the other Districts suffered from it.  And the one day pause of labor caused a slight drop to Panem’s stock charts.
All eight of your husband’s subordinates are trying to raise their opinions about the matter, how they will conduct another investigation as they are quite convinced it was human error, and how they will punish the one responsible for it too.
Their voices are starting to irritate you, making you tap your foot under the desk.  Coriolanus seems to be ignoring them as he reads through the report.  How he can manage to focus, you have absolutely no idea.
You try to regain your composure by taking a sip of water but it does not help, not one bit.  Deep intakes of breath also seem to be not working.
Coriolanus is still reading the report, his back against his chair as one of his hands toy with his pen.  His fingers are looking rather breathtaking today.
You look away before anyone could notice your desperation.
“Frankly, you are all arguing about matters that have been resolved already.”  He murmurs and you are thankful for it as the room quiets down.
“What do you mean sir?”
You bite your cheek to stop yourself from berating the man.  But Coriolanus can see that arch in your brow any day.  You are pissed.
“You have something to say, wife?”  He smiles knowingly at you and you look at him sharply but his smile only widens more.
“Well, all of you are being foolish!”  You finally burst.  Coriolanus leans back in his chair as if he is watching a rather interesting show.  “There is a report given, and a very good one at that.  Do you all have poor reading comprehension that you cannot understand that this is not a human error!”
The room falls silent as the men stare at you with their cheeks pinking in embarrassment.
Coriolanus clears his throat and leans closer to his desk.  “I believe what the Missus wants to say is that we must be coming up with solutions to prevent this from happening again rather than point fingers.”
You glare at him again but Coriolanus is not looking at you but the men who are nodding in agreement.  You hear a chorus of apologies from the men and you can’t help your bottom lip from jutting out in irritation.
“We can strengthen the system.  A collaboration with District 3, perhaps?”  A man says nervously, eyes flitting to you for approval but you don’t acknowledge him.
The other men raise their support.  They have to stay in your good graces.  All eight of them are dispensable.  If you talk to your husband to eliminate them, there will be nothing they can do.
They are proud men, but they too are necessary associates, albeit shortsighted at times.
You lean on your chair and swivel it so you are partially facing your husband.  “Another source of power.”
He nods at you to continue.
“A solar plant.”  You say.  “It is a good back up.”
Coriolanus rubs his chin and considers it for a moment.  “Indeed.  May I ask you to write a proposal, my love?”
“Of course.”  You say and you begin tidying up your stuff.  Coriolanus picks it up and addresses the men in general.
“I appreciate your…enthusiasm in helping our great nation.  Good day, gentlemen.”
They all file out of the room, thanking the President and you.  They all seem to sweat when you dismiss them with nothing but a brief nod.
Coriolanus leaves his chair and he eyes the pout in your lips. 
“Have a great day.”  You say as you stand.
“Leaving so soon?”  He raises a brow.
You stop in your tracks to look at him weirdly.  “You asked me to write a proposal?”
He hums at this and presses a chaste kiss on your lips.  “I will be seeing you at lunch, then.”  He guides you to the door and you both exit the meeting room to go to your separate offices.
His behavior is really really starting to irk you.
You are lying if you were not hoping that he would stop you and at least help out with the tension in your body.
But you guess not, he is a busy guy after all.
Coriolanus buries himself more and more with work.
You worry that he might be close to self-destruction.
The crops in District 9 suffered from a locust infestation and it kept him up very late for a few weeks.
You started to miss him very much.  Try as you might to stay awake in your room, it is not until nearly sunrise when he joins you.
It hurts and you hate yourself for being selfish.
One morning as you share your breakfast, you notice that he is barely touching his food as he reads the report about the red tide poisoning in District 4.
“Corio, eat.”  You say before your lips wrap around a strawberry.
He only hums in response as he flips to the next page of the report.
You glance at him and see the dark circles under his eyes, his skin looking dehydrated, and it is evidenced by the cracks in his lips.
“You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You say lowly before you suck on your finger absentmindedly, your eyes now scanning your bowl for the next strawberry you’ll eat.
This caught his attention.
“What did you just say?”  There was a challenge in his voice and you hesitate for a moment, heart wanting to submit and apologize but the Swansworth blood courses through your veins and you fear you will shame the strong women before you if you fold so easily.
You look at him dead in the eye.  “You will die before you turn thirty if you keep that up.”  You smile at him sweetly.  “Was that clear enough for you, or do I have to repeat myself again?”
His jaw tightens, his eyes sharp.  He does not take mentions of his death lightly.  Had you been anyone else, you would have your tongue cut off and live as an Avox.
“You really are your father’s daughter.”  He sighs, trying his best to hide the amused smile you put on his face.
You wanted to retort but your words die in your tongue.  Coriolanus glances up at you when you don’t speak.  Usually, you would have bitten another comment at him.  But you were only looking at your strawberries sadly, finger tracing the bowl that held them.
The sound of paper crinkling had you looking up.  He folded the report away, he had the necessary information he needed anyway.  Coriolanus knows you are watching him and he scoops a mouthful of truffle scrambled eggs.  You gave him the sweetest smile he had seen on your face for weeks, and it was motivation enough for him to eat the breakfast that was served to him.  Yet, he still finishes first.
You pout unknowingly when he wipes his lips with the napkin and walks over to kiss your forehead.
“I will be seeing you later for your report.”
“See you.”  You reply with less enthusiasm.
He watches how sadness swam in your eyes and he leans closer to peck your lips and he is off.
You did not have much energy for work afterwards.
The meeting was at 10 in the morning and you arrived in the meeting room at 10:02.  Coriolanus was not pleased.
He did not back you up when the other men in the room asked questions about your presentation.  It was their job to pick apart your proposal and you only show them how flawless it is.  They are finally satisfied with it after a while, your throat burning from how many questions they asked.
You are infuriated with your husband.  You feel like he is throwing you to the wolves.  Not that you can’t tame the said wolves but it made your blood boil.
“I have decided to call this solar plant, Coriolanus 9.”  You attempt a smile and they actually bite.  “In honor of our President, and us.”  You purposefully let yourself blend in with the men in this proposal.  You need to boost their morale from time to time.
All eight of them murmur their agreement, smiles wide as they feel honored just by being included in the project.
After a few more questions from them, your husband finally adjourns the meeting.
His lack of support was not appreciated and you are determined to get out of this stuffy meeting room.
“Gentlemen, that would be all.”  
What about you?
Your lips part in protest but Coriolanus raises a finger at you, making you close your mouth as you narrow your eyes at him.
After the men filed out, you got up briskly, your chair wheeling back in a great speed.
“Careful.”
“Oh, so you’re talking now?”  You snap, your hand placed on your hip.
Coriolanus only leans on his chair as he looks you in the eye, his chin tilted upwards.
“I am…”  he pauses as he scratches his chin.  “upset with you.”
You scoff.  “You are upset with me? I am upset with you!”  You point at him harshly.  “You were the one who asked me to make a proposal and present it afterwards!  But what did you do?  You did not support me or give me assurance!”
“I was confident in your proposal.”  Coriolanus stands up calmly, his hands in his pockets, his thumb jutting out.
You give him one final glare and you huff, turning your nose up as you look away.  “I am done talking to you today.”
Coriolanus grips your arm before you can walk away.
His hand is warmer than usual and you frown.
“Do you need me to put you in your place?”  
The threatening growl in his voice washed away all the fight in you.
You bite your lip nervously, the entire bottom lip disappearing behind a row of teeth.  You shake your head and you tear up from how pathetic you have become for this man.
He smooths your hair and places a warm kiss against your temple.  “Be good.”  He murmurs.
You watch him collect his things and he throws you one final warning glance and he exits the meeting room.  Your hands grip the hardwood table to steady yourself.
How dare he!
You are his wife, not some District whore that needs to be reprimanded, you will not allow such disrespect again!
Coriolanus is not surprised to see you miss lunch.  His assistant tells him that you are having luncheon with Mrs. Plinth.  And that…you canceled all your plans for the day.  And the rest of the week.
He taps a finger on his desk and wonders if he pushed you too far earlier. 
Coriolanus glances at your photo in his desk.  Your smile was brighter then.  
A slight pounding in his head makes him grimace and he groans.
There were two more bills he needed to get through before he could relax.  Coriolanus inhales sharply, forcing his eyes to read through the files.
It was night time when he came home.  He missed dinner again.
Coriolanus had an unsettling feeling in his stomach when he entered your home.  It was dark and cold.
There was enough security outside but no signs of life inside.
Your servants usually retire after dinner and come back only in the mornings to serve you your breakfast.
But where are you?
Coriolanus doubles his steps to check your bedroom, you are not there.
His heart starts pounding, cold sweat dripping from his temple as he runs around his mansion in his tight suit.  He wanted to ask the peacekeepers stationed outside if you are even in your mansion when he catches a glimpse of your sheer robe in your sunroom.  He steps closer and sees you there, asleep in your plush chair, curled up around a book.
For a moment, he just stares at you, calming himself down.  No one has taken you and you did not leave.  Coriolanus seats himself to the identical chair across you and just looks at the rise and fall of your chest.
You must have fallen asleep as you were having your afternoon read.  It appears you might have missed dinner, as none of the lights are on.  The servants must have left it off so as to not disturb your sleep.
The night deepens and he just sits there, still convincing himself that you are still with him.
Coriolanus believes he will be there until morning comes but fate has other plans and your book slips from your hold, the hardcover making a loud slamming noise against the otherwise silent evening.
You jolt awake from the noise and when you reach for it, you catch a glimpse of him and you jolt for the second time.
“Heavens!”  You clutch your chest tightly, your eyes glaring accusingly at him.  “Do not scare me like that!”
He laughs hollowly.
“Apologies.”  He mutters.
You lean back in your chair, holding your book in your lap.
“Have you eaten your dinner?”  You ask just to break the silence.
“Not yet and neither did you.”  He uncuffs his sleeves and loosens his tie.
You purse your lips.  “I had tea and cakes this afternoon.”
“When did tea and cakes pass as dinner?”  He drapes his waistcoat on the armrest together with his tie.
You choose not to answer as you have a feeling the question was rhetorical.
Coriolanus rests his arms on his thighs and clasps his hands as the silence lengthens.  Moonlight was emitting a pale glow, it reflected on your faces and everything else was still.
“My father casts a very large shadow.”  He tells you.
You nod.  You both have that in common.  But you do not want to tell him as his case was different.  You are aware of his struggle while growing up, the things he has done that could have tarnished his name, and now, he has become the President, a leader of Panem, and the footsteps that his father left for him to follow might be too large for him.
“I wanted to do everything right.  To do things how he would have done it.  Maybe even more.”
You play with the edges of your book as you listen, afraid that if you’ll talk, his walls will come building itself up again.
“He was not the best father.  Nor husband.”  He chuckles bitterly.  “I was sure, I would be just like him too.”
You bite your lip as you will yourself not to cry in front of him.
“But I enjoy your company, wife.”  Coriolanus tells you truthfully.  “I love you.”  He confesses, making your chest tighten.  “I do not wish for this marriage to fail.”
You cannot help how a tear rolls down your cheek.
“Come here.”  He commands and you throw yourself to him, sobbing to his chest.  “I am terribly sorry for being a lousy husband.”
Your tears soak his dress shirt as Coriolanus peppers kisses on your head.
“Been neglecting my wife, how awful of me.”  His hand grips on your bum possessively.  “When she should have been worshiped day by day.”  His tone changes ever so slightly into something you hear only inside your bedroom walls.
You do not protest when he lays you on the chaise lounge.  Your sobs turn to sniffles when Coriolanus parts your thighs and bunches your dress until it shows your abdomen.
“Corio.”  You whisper his name like a prayer and he mumbles yours against your skin.  You watch as he plants his lips on your scar.  A scar that you got from taking a bullet for him.
It was not the last time you whispered his name in the dead of the night.
“Your petals always have the sweetest nectar.”  He groans and you feel yourself shy away, hips hiking up and away from him but his arms tighten their hold around your thighs and he looks at you from there, his eyes giving you a silent warning.
“S-sorry-ah!”  You gasp as his tongue darts out to lick the juices off your slit.  His tongue pokes at your pearl and you break eye contact with him when he wraps his lips on your tiny nub.
Coriolanus looks at you with his eyes now lazy but his tongue, the opposite!
He kisses you and in an act of total impulsiveness, starts tracing his name on your clit.  Coriolanus Snow was owning you in every way possible.
He had you reduced to your most carnal self.  Your hands were on his platinum hair, gripping them tightly in your hold, selfishly pulling him in.  Your thighs are resting on his broad shoulders.  And your cunt, it was making a mess on your chaise lounge and on your husband’s face.
Coriolanus groans as he parts your lips so he could kiss your opening.  His thick finger, that you have been craving, sliding on your juices before he plunges it knuckle-deep.  It might have been a mistake on his part given your sensitivity after having to be forced to join him in his self-induced celibacy.  Your lewd mewl brought rouge to his cheeks.
You bring your hands to your mouth to hush yourself and Coriolanus took that as a challenge.  He sits up, sitting on his ankles to press your thigh to your chest as his finger prods at you from the inside.
You are writhing underneath him.  Telling him how good he is making you feel.  Oh, and he reveled in it.  Every sound that comes from your lips, it fueled his desire more and more.
A second finger was added and you shriek from the stretch, it has been a while, he needs to be more gentle!  But Coriolanus cannot help himself when you look so pretty.  Your cheeks wet with tears, eyelashes clumping up, as your hands formed tiny fists.  Any form of his self control has disappeared when you are gushing and pulsating around his fingers.
He knows you’re nearly there, so close!
You pant, closing your eyes as his fingers massaged your walls, coaxing you to climb higher and higher and-
“Coriolanus!”  You yell furiously when he pulls his fingers out.
Your husband grins at you as he wipes his face from your slick.
“I seem to recall that someone was not a very good girl this morning?”  His hands trailed at your hips and you almost tear up from frustration.
He was supposed to be making it up to you!  He had no reason to bring up the events this morning.
In an act of defiance, you huff and you reach your own sex to flick at your clit.  Your fingers are more delicate, making you gasp at the gentle pleasure.
Coriolanus grins as he watches you play with yourself.  Enjoying how you grow more and more frustrated as you cannot give yourself the same pleasure.  You shriek angrily as you pull your fingers away, you slam your tiny feet on the chaise and Coriolanus laughs. 
“Are you done being a brat?”
You are too stubborn to answer but you do not stop him when he maneuvers you until you are on your stomach, you groan softly in discomfort when he pulls your hips so your cunt is presented to him beautifully.
His fingers are prodding your entrance again and you mewl when he pops his tip in.   Coriolanus stays there for a moment as his hands, rough from his time as a peacekeeper, grips on your waist firmly.
“There’ll be no stopping, alright?”  He reminds you.  “We’re done when I say we’re done.”
You lift your head from the plush of the chaise lounge and you give him a nod. 
“Put your head back down, my love.”
You do as he tells you and you brace yourself.
Coriolanus enters you with a sharp thrust, and your whimper is muffled by the cushions.  Your husband thrusts at a steady speed, his eyes watching the impact ripple on your body.
Your breath hitches with every kiss his tip makes on your cervix.  Every slap of his hips against you makes the crudest sound, sending a jolt of arousal through you.  President Snow is a man of the most refined of tastes, the pinnacle of order.  But when he beds you, he is just as raw, just as unrestrained.
“Don’t know why I deprived myself of your wet cunt for so long.”  And his mouth spewing the most vulgar of things.
He uses his weight to push you further in the mattress so he can fuck you deeper.  Your cunt spasms and you moan shakily, almost sobbing.
“Chase it, my love.”  He groans deeply.
And you unravel, lewd sobs spilling from your polished tongue as your back arches, cunt creaming around his cock.
Coriolanus watches you sob, your shoulders shaking as his thrusts do not relent.  His eyes flicker to where your bodies meet, your warm juices are dripping on his taut sack.
“Corio…Corio please!  I don’t think I can anymore….”
“Hm?”  He reaches to grab your chin.  “Thought I told you that we’re only done when I say so?”
You look at him with tears sliding down your cheeks.  You can’t even focus on him, body shuddering when your tummy feels another tight coil.
Coriolanus inhales sharply when he feels the familiar pulsation of your warm softness.
His tip twitches as it bumps your plump cervix.  And when you call his name with your broken voice as you cum, he shoots his seed in you.
“Hah…hah.”  
He is panting from on top of you, his hand placed against your bottom to keep himself up.
Coriolanus gently pulls himself out, watching the gossamer webbing of your arousal on his cock.  He smacks your bum and you tighten your cunt to keep his seed from spilling.  He scoots closer so he is holding you, your back against his chest as your legs tangled together.
The two of you gaze at the moon from the enormous windows of your sunroom.  It was calm again.  Nothing but your heartbeats and the gentle breathing lulling each of you closer to sleep.
“Corio.”  You call his name softly.
He hums in response as he pulls you closer, just needing to feel you against him.
“The people of Panem are not your fucking masters.”
His brows meet and he glances at you, wondering where all of this is coming from.
“They cannot have you always cleaning up their mess like you are some District servant.”
He shifts you so you are facing him now.  His stern brows meet to let you know you are on thin ice.
“You govern your people.  You don’t coddle them.  Let the District officials do their job.  They must learn to solve their own problems and the Capitol Bureaucrats must see to it that they are doing it in ways that align with your judgment.  And you lead them from the top.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
You yawn like the adorable thing you are.  “So Snow lands on top.”
He clicks his tongue smoothly.  “You are only attracted to power.”
“My love.”  You say rather darkly.  “You are power.”
Coriolanus falls silent, contemplating your words, letting himself process it.
He sighs as he looks at you in endearing defeat.  “You just want a vacation, don’t you?”
You fight back a smile as you smack his chest.
“I am being serious, Coriolanus Snow.”
He pulls you closer, teeth glinting as he snickers.  “I understand that, Y/N Snow.”
“Y/N Swansworth-Snow.”  You remind him and he laughs.
“Of course, of course.”
You lean your head on his chest and your cheek soaks his warmth.
“You know, you are not your father, Corio.”
He winces.  “I know…I’m just-”
“You are better.”
That sinks deep in him.
He now understands why there was something in you that pulled him in.  No one in Panem, or in this world, could understand his soul in its most naked form.  You are his stability.  Someone whom he cannot scare away when he is darkest.
Because it seems like you might be exactly just like him.  Just as cruel, just as evil, with no regards to anyone but each other.
And he is fine with that, even if the world is burned to ash around you.
“My love for you is catastrophic.”  Coriolanus murmurs against your skin and you smile as you close your eyes.
You run your finger on his chest.  “And my love for you is all-consuming.”
Coriolanus and you are obsessive, ablazed with reckless passion, villainous in nature, but it is easy to justify when you are both equally drunk with dangerous devotion.
The people of Panem be damned.  
The odds will forever be in your favor.
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Hunt for Glory
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ii2ko · 4 months ago
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MY PRINCE CHARMING!
— synopsis. like all fairytales, the princess always has her prince charming. but they never really explained how that prince courted her.
pairing. 1A boys (katsuki bakugou & shoto todoroki) x princess!reader | genre. romcom, fluff | mlist
reminders! your quirk is "summon", so basically you can summon anything and anyone to your liking along with it under your control! :3 you an activate it either by saying it out loud or manifesting it in your head. (ex. manifesting a whole army and ordering them to take down the enemy is possible.)
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KATSUKI BAKUGOU, who's very well known for being brash, tries asks you out with(out) aggression.
“hey princess, come over here for a sec,” bakugou calls out to you from across the classroom, reclining in his desk with his feet up.
right now, you can't tell if the nickname "princess" is just his way of being rude or if it's meant affectionately in a mean way with hidden sincerity. either way, you haven't quite gotten used to it yet. leaving uraraka and tsuyu behind, you make your way towards his desk; which feels like an eternity in his opinion.
“what's your problem, bakugou?” you retort, unintentionally sounding harsh. “what's with your attitude princess?!” he growls, “just cause you’re coming from some stupid royal family doesn't mean you can talk down to the world’s soon greatest hero.” bakugou says in your face with his stupid grin. but right now, not only is he standing a little too close for your liking, but small explosions are going off in his right palm. is he trying to have a conversation by threatening you??
kirishima interjects, sweat dropping as he attempts to defuse the tension between his best friend and the class's princess. “I'm sure she didn't mean for it to come off that way!” he looks at you, hoping for agreement. “yeah, man! you just need to chill.…” denki adds on, but his voice trails off quietly. “also, you should just spit out what you wanted to say.” He says the last part a little louder before whistling and avoiding eye contact with the hot-headed guy who swears at him.
“spit what out? a threat or—“ “yeah! a threat that I'll crush you in training today, pretty girl.”
...
"bakubro,—" before bakugou can realize his mistake, you (along with kirishima and denki) beat him to it. “did you just call me pretty?”
finally, it dawns on him. and he feels like dying when realization hits. “what? no, I didn't. I called you ugly.” “nuh-uh. you called me pretty.” “no, I didn't.” he huffs with a tongue click following, “did all the tiaras and stuff you wear brainwash you and get to your stupid head?” you giggle slightly at his reaction as he looks away, hands in his pockets, ready to walk away from the whole situation. well, he’s trying to salvage his pride. you’ll give him that.
“stop fuckin' laughing brat!” he yells, clearly embarrassment took over. “dude just tell her already!” denki groans, hands in his face as he's already frustrated with how his friend's so freakishly good at stalling a confession. “bakugou, dude... I'm just gonna hang with mina.” kirishima comments, trying to give the two of you some space alone. “yeah, same here," denki agrees while giving a sly teasing smirk to his exploding friend as they both stand up and make their way towards their pink-haired best friend.
and now, it's just the two of you. you in front of his desk, and him with his back turned to you, head down.
“uh, I don't think there's anything interesting on the floor for you to be looking that long.” you tease him, “shut up...” nice. you got him to talk. “is that all? so much for a threat.”
"go out with me."
so straightforward. “...speak up bakugou. I can't hear you!” I said... gooutwithme.” “still can't hear you~!” “I SAID GO OUT WITH ME DAMMIT!” he practically screams as small explosions go off. nervous much?
also as he screamed at you, the multiple heads of your classmates turned towards you and the boy who's most likely going to blow your head off after kissing you trying to comprehend what they just heard.
“show some respect towards your crush!” you deadpan, “shut it!”he scoffs as he finally faces you. “…is it yes or no?” the now less embarrassed or angry (you really couldn’t tell) asks quietly, surprisingly audible over all the chatter about the two of you.
“it would've been nicer if you did this properly,” you say. "wh—?!” “but sure, I accept your challenge of beating you to a pulp in training.” “…” bakugou stands there, looking at you with a mixture of confusion and a ‘what the fuck did you just say’ with slightly pink blush visible on his pale skin.
“...It's a yes, idiot.”
suddenly, he can breathe properly and releases a breath he didn't realize he was holding. “stop playing around, brat,” he smiles at you as you laugh.
he was nervous over nothing, just like what his friends said.
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SHOTO TODOROKI, one of the most strongest guys in your class... no, in UA, verbally expressed he was amazed with your quirk?! is he flirting with you..?
“yn, please excuse my sudden compliment, but I must say your quirk is amazing. especially with your control, it definitely suits a girl like you.” the half-n-half user tells you, straight in the face even. you think you probably– no most definitely look stupid in front of him with your flustered expression, speechless too... “o—oh! you think so?”
...you wish shigaraki could decay this whole school right now and turn you into dust.
todoroki keeps his gaze on you as a small but evident smile shows on his lips. “yes, I think so,” he says in a more softer tone. you think it's much better than his stoic voice you often hear. “is there anything i said wrong? or made you uncomfortable?” you also think about how cute he can be without trying, and you hate it.
quickly brushing off his earlier statement, he sighs and fixes his stiff posture as response. “that's good to know. I wouldn't like upsetting a princess after all.” todoroki smiles at you before turning his heel to leave. “I will be taking my leave now yn,” how nonchalant could he be? “take care. I'll see you at the dorms.”
after todoroki bid farewell, leaving his footsteps echoing in the empty hallway, you found yourself wishing he would stay a bit longer.
“wait!” you hastily exclaimed suddenly, reaching out towards him with an arm, but then stopping with a twitch. the volume of your voice higher than you intended, making you shock yourself. todoroki turns around, puzzled by your abrupt gesture. it was probably just a reflex, he thought, dismissing the sudden movement. because surely, you wouldn't want him to stay for anything else, right?
in a surprising turn of events, you sheepishly invited him for lunch or dinner after exams, revealing your want for him to stay.
“um, sorry. would you like to have lunch, maybe dinner? sometime after training and exams.”
having practically asked him out, you blushed as he smiled, agreeing and taking out his phone. “what’s this for?” you inquired, still a bit pink in the face. “well, I do need your number for our date, don't I?” the icy hot user replied with an 'obviously' look on his face.
if you weren't red before, you definitely were now; perhaps even resembling a sunburn. did he just activate his fire quirk or something? the air kept getting hotter the longer you both talked.
“oops! my apologies for that...” you muttered nervously, inputting your number into his phone, adjusting your own contact details as well. 'yn! (≧∀≦)'
SAVE CONTACT ? YES | NO > YES | NO
“cute emoji.” todoroki plainly says, with a hint of adornment in his tone as he looked at your newly saved contact name. he thinks he’ll start using those emojis often. “haha, I know right…”
giving back his phone, you offer walking back to the dorms with him.
“I would like that, as much I like being in your company.” okay. he's definitely hitting on you now. “todoroki... sorry for my sudden ask, but are you flirting with me?” you say a little quickly with a flushed face, looking the other way to avoid his gaze. as you do that, he stops walking.
noticing his presence gone and a few steps back, you look back and suddenly you see his expression as one you’ve never seen before.
“t—todoroki?” you call out to him with a tone tinged with tinged with a new found anxiety and concern due to his sudden silence. unsure if he’s flushed of getting caught or genuinely contemplating if he was or wasn’t. but one thing you were sure about was how crazy the two of you must look, standing in the middle of a hall way going back and forth on each other.
besides all this, you hurriedly apologize for catching him off guard, trying to ease any discomfort you might’ve caused (you hope you haven’t, or else you really wish the league of villains would take you the moment you leave the building.)
“ohmygod, please excuse me for just asking that out of the blue, you really don’t have to—“ “yes. I was.” “huh?” “I was actually flirting with you,” the dual colored hair boy who stands in front of you, smiling bashfully; his gaze struggling to maintain eye contact but always seems to meet yours.
“sorry, was I moving too fast?” todoroki asks you with the gently and sincere tone that you could listen to on repeat. wait, what the hell? he’s just trying to ease the tension between you.
“no!” realizing you responded too hastily, you try to regain a normal composure and talk to him; but your words fail to come out right “ah, sorry… but no! you weren’t, I was just… um…” lord, your words were really failing you. so you think of the only thing sensible to get you out of this situation,
“walk away from me!” you commanded him, and in doing so he does. involuntarily. you gotta thank your quirk for this, honestly.
“wh- wait, yn!” todoroki calls out to you in a shocked but confused tone, “turn me back, right now!” he says as his body still walks away from you, having no control over your quirk.
as you hear him ask to be released, you immediately regret your decision on using your quirk in him.“come back to me.”
after hearing your latest command, he feels grateful as his body obediently changes direction and approaches you, coming within 10 steps. now standing before you, he nervously sweats, unsure of what to do or say. meanwhile, you avert your gaze, looking down as he gazes at you. “i’m sorry I was too nervous!”you exclaim loudly as you attempt to leave, but he interrupts you before you can manage your grand escape.
“please don’t go,” he pleads, his voice barely above a whisper. you stop in your tracks from the surprised by his sudden change in demeanor and how gently he reached out to your arm. looking up at you after a moment of silence, with kind eyes laced with a loving intent, he takes a deep breath and musters up the courage to speak. “what I meant was, don’t be sorry.” he smiles, “and don’t leave.”
you swear you feel a heart attack coming.
“I’m sure you’ve already known, but I just wanted to say...i think you’re amazing. and i would really like to get to know you better.” you feel your heart skip a beat as you realize his true intentions. (as if he didn’t tell you from the beginning) a smile spreads across your face as you reply, “I would like that too.” and in that moment, the nervous tension dissipates, replaced by a sense of excitement for what the future may hold.
“so what do you say,” todoroki starts again; “do you just wanna start the date tonight?” he asks, a hopeful like look casted upon his face. who could say no to a face like that? you gleem at him as the corners of his mouth curl upwards more, feeling a sense of relief.
as he stands there, now going walk with you towards the dorms, he thanks himself for getting over with his own nervousness and complimenting you.
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BONUS: “y’know, I didn’t actually know i was asking for a date.” you admit to him as you lean on the kitchen counter, watching your new boyfriend trying to chop chives. “really?” he stops cutting, now looking at you with a surprised smile. “yeah, really…” you chuckle, “I thought I was just asking for you to hang out.” your dual wielder boyfriend laughs, “well I’m glad I took it the wrong way and started flirting with you.” he sighs as he resumes to cooking. “yeah. me too.” you smile at the scene unfolding in front of you.
“stop fucking flirting. it’s making me sick.” “oh shut up bakugou.”
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HI GUYS!!! finally posting this after it’s been in drafts since like may I really like how this turned out especially todoroki hehehehehehehheh can u tell I really like him. but anyways, I’m thinking if I should do a part 2 with deku and uhh idk. but anyways!!!!! hope u guys like this 𝜗𝜚.
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onlyangel4 · 3 months ago
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can i request a smau with mv1 where reader is a tiktoker/influencer like madeline argy (with a very strong genz humor + younger than him) and mv1 is camping on her comments being obsessed with her and she doesn't answer his dms bc she doesn't know him or anything about f1 at all. lots lots and lots of fluff and crack
brat: the prologue. mv1. smau.
max verstappen x reader
how f1's most unexpected couple got together.
warning: cursing.
faceclaim: tara yummy
author's note: this request reminded me of my brat fic and made me realise i need to post how these two got together
y/ninsta posted a story
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written: guys i just went on a podcast and interviewed joe from impractical jokers. wtf is my life.
maxverstappen replied to your story: that was the funniest podcast episode i have ever listened to. i would love to come on.
y/ninsta
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liked by maxverstappen, tanamongeau, gracieabrams and 892,381 others
y/ninsta: my first time (legal) in vegas was the fucking best. i left part of my soul on that strip.
view all 19,802 comments
tanamongeau: that strip owns my soul
y/ninsta: i already can't wait to go back
maxverstappen: i raced on that strip
user1: max babe what are you doing here
user2: babe you need to reply to max verstappen he has been commenting on your shit for the past six months it is sad to watch
y/ninsta: who tf is that?
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y/ninsta
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liked by maxverstappen, oscarpiastri, gracieabrams and 891,298
y/ninsta: life lately has been pretty slay
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danielricciardo: did you know max verstappen saved my cat
oscarpiastri: max verstappen helped my grandparents cross the road
landonorris: max verstappen taught me how to drive
logansargeant: max verstappen loves american people
alexalbon: max verstappen helping me find the loml
maxverstappen: danielricciardo this was your plan !!!
user2: not half the grid being in her comments
y/brother: y/n answer your texts right fucking now
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y/ninsta posted a story
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written: time to watch cars go vroom in austin
redbullracing posted a story
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written: max finally met his idol
*three months later*
y/ninsta
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liked by maxverstappen, danielricciardo, gracieabrams and 992,311 others
tagged: maxverstappen
y/ninsta: forever grateful to my boyfriend's manifestation skills
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maxverstappen: i always knew you would be mine
y/ninsta: babe i need some of that confidence you have
danielricciardo: boys we did it
y/ninsta: grateful for you too danny
user4: he did it. he got the girl !
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yuujispinkhair · 2 years ago
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Sometimes I think about being on a rush hour train with Yuji. Being packed close together but then he puts his hand under your skirt and has Sukuna eat you out. Just the thought of Yuji trying to keep you quiet as your thighs are trembling just… Ꮚ°͈ꈊ°͈Ꮚ I die
OMGG!! This is so fucking hot!! I had to write a little drabble! Thank you so much for sharing this sexy idea with me!
Pairing: Yuuji x Reader (female), Sukuna x Reader Word Count: 400 Warnings: 18+, smut, oral, cum-eating, creampie, Sukuna's handmouth, poly, semi-public sex. All characters are of age. Minors don't interact.
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Yuuji presses his firm body against you, hugging you tightly, nuzzling your neck, and smiling like an angel. To everyone around you, he looks like the sweet, caring boyfriend who just makes sure his girlfriend doesn't fall when the train moves.
But they don't know that under your skirt, he is rubbing slow circles around your clit while the King of Curses fucks you with the silky tongue that manifested on Yuuji's palm.
Your thighs are trembling, nails digging into Yuuji's biceps as you cling to him desperately, trying to fight the orgasm you can feel building up inside you. Your eyes are glazed over from pleasure, your heart is racing, your pussy is clenching.
Yuuji's breath caresses your ear as he tells you in that sexy horny voice,
"Please stay quiet, ok, cutie? I just want to make my girl feel good on this boring train ride. Want to make you cum all over Sukuna's mouth. He says he loves your taste. Just like I do. Fuck, I'm gonna eat you too when we're getting off the train."
His words only make it worse, and you can't help a soft moan from escaping your lips. Your hips buck helplessly as Sukuna and Yuuji share your pussy.
One moment Sukuna is fucking you with his tongue, and Yuuji caresses your needy clit, then Yuuji's thick fingers pump in and out of you while Sukuna's lips close around your clit and suck on it. And then they go back again to Sukuna licking into you with his hot tongue, and your boyfriend rubbing you with his strong but gentle fingers.
By now, the only thing holding you up are Yuuji's strong arms. Your lips part in another soft groan, unable to hold back, as you feel the beginnings of your orgasm wash over you. But luckily Yuuji's mouth is suddenly on yours, silencing you, swallowing your needy little moans while Sukuna swallows the cream gushing out of your twitching pussy when you cum on his tongue.
You can feel how hard Yuuji is, so turned on by the situation. You know the minute you are out of this train, he will take your hand and tug you along to a secluded space where he will bend you over the next best surface, lift your cute little skirt and eat you out until you sob his name.
And once you creamed on his tongue, your sweet boyfriend will pull down his pants and fuck you with needy hard thrusts until he fills your pussy with his hot cum.
And then Sukuna's nasty mouth will surely appear on Yuuji's cheek and give his orders to the two of you.
"Pull her panties up again, brat. And you, brat number two, keep it all in. I want to have my treat when we're back home."
Because you know what Sukuna loves even more than your taste is the taste of both of his brats combined.
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AHHHHHH Anon, I am losing my mind!! Sukuna's handmouth always drives me wild!! And I have a thing for Yuuji and Sukuna sharing you because they come as a packaged deal anyways, and this way, everyone gets the most out of it ;) I am sending you lots of love for sharing this with me!!
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vampiredaisiesss · 26 days ago
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vice | homelander x reader
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noun
a weakness of character or behaviour; a bad habit.
tw: gaslighting, homelander giving oral, p in v sex, homelander is a manipulative bitch, dubious consent.
"I let my anger get best of me, okay?" he says softly, still supporting that puppy dog look in his eyes. "I shouldn't have lasered that poor guy."
But you've known him for so long, You can see past his bullshit anytime. That's why you cross your arms over your chest and keep yourself mum. You were not going to give in to him today.
He takes a calculated step forward. Gloved hands reach for the hem of your dress, playing with it like a child played with the edge of its mother's dress. But there's nothing pure about it.
Every touch of his drips with sin. A venom that must have infiltrated your heart for you continue to love him despite all he is.
Suddenly, he's on his knees in front of you. The caped crusader makes sure your eyes stay locked to his ocean ones throughout. His hands continue bunching up the edge of your dress. You let out a exasperated sigh, your own reaching out to get his off.
"John, stop," It's too late. His lips press to the inside of your thigh, right above your knee where he knows you are sensitive. "What are y-"
He sinks his teeth in the supple flesh, letting a moan drag out of your throat. Then lays his tongue flat against the bite mark, enclosing it using his lips. He starts to suction around it, only leaving your skin to continue his ministrations upwards.
He's so close to where you always need him the most. So close it makes something inside your belly liquify into a warm, wet puddle.
"John, please..." you sound uncertain. are you begging him to continue or begging him to stop? even though you intended for the latter, your voice comes out as a manifestation of the former. "Please, stop."
You grab a handful of his hair as he nears your core, paying your words no heed. He looks up, piercing blue eyes boring into yours, and licks a long strip up your slit.
A groan escapes his mouth, his hold on your thighs prying them further apart. You have to lean back on the wall to keep your upper half upright as he lifts both your legs on either side of his shoulders.
At your refusal towards a response, something in his gaze turns. Desperation becomes laced with arrogance and the fine line between the two starts to shrivel.
His red gloved fingers start painting your skin possessively red.
"You have America's greatest superhero on his knees for you, ravishing your sweet cunt night after night," he growled, lips attaching to your clit in circles. "And you continue being a bitch about some godforsaken piece of shit that probably would've taken advantage of you, if I hadn't intervened."
Your mouth is opened in permanent gasp. No noise comes out of it. He has successfully shut you up, and he knows it by how well your body is reacting you him.
Your hands pull at his hair with every brush of his tongue, thighs clenching around his head in a vice like grip.
"What more do you want, huh, before you stop being an ungrateful little brat?" his voice comes muffled from your thighs.
He has this ability of unhinging his jaw like a snake, devouring you whole. He torments your clit with fast, but light strokes, dragging it down to thrust it inside of you. When his lips aren't attached to your bud, his nose fills the role, and you buck your hips desperately to feel yourself rub deliciously against the length of it.
White hot lava is flooding through your veins. You feel it consuming you alive.
His fingers replace his tongue inside of you. He has a habit of keeping his gloves on when he has a point to prove. And they help him prove it. The rubber makes his already thick fingers thicker. It gifts his already impressive skills friction. Pleasure collides with pain in your belly, pulling you over the edge, into a harsh undercurrent.
And it gives him power over you. The only power he has always had.
America's greatest superhero fucks you like it can save him from drowning. He keeps your whole weight effortlessly pinned to the wall, hips meeting yours at a bruising pace. His hair is a mess, his face covered in you. When he shoves his tongue into your mouth, he wants you to taste yourself on his tongue.
He's the perfect specimen, right down to what's between his legs. He's thick and long with a curved tip that hits all your sweet spots. When he's inside you, it's like a drug. He washes over you with a certainty that dulls everything else.
He moulds you to his will.
"John, I'm sorry," You breathe out in the crook of his neck, hands gripping his shoulder like you'd fall without him. "I'm so sorry."
"Shh. It's okay, sweetheart. You're okay," he coos at you, holding you tighter against his body. His left hand cradles your head while he pounds you harder into the wall.
You can feel the cracks forming on the wall where his hand is placed at your side. His thrusts are becoming more frantic. "You fe..feel so, so good, baby," he whisper against your ear. "Made just for me."
Within seconds, he's finishing inside you with a loud growl. His hips tremor slightly as his head tips back, teeth gritted in pleasure. After he catches himself, he tends to you, letting any regret in your mind dissolve into self-doubt over the course of a long, languid kiss.
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lazywriters-blog · 4 months ago
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A PINCH OF HATE
AVENTURINE x FEMALE!READER + DR. RATIO
Summary: Just Aventurine being a little brat and poking fun at Ratio- trying to make him jealous and showing off, and trying his best to spite Dr. Ratio. After all, the doctor might have feelings for his darling as well. [This is a little silly lol but I tried.]
Warning: Possessiveness, angst? Jealousy. Overall a lot of touching from Aventurine, he's lowkey obsessed.
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"Perhaps you should learn from your companion a bit of self-restraint, gambler."
"Whatever do you mean doctor, I'm plenty patient." Aventurine ever the smug, slippery little guy grins and purs out a retort, she was hoping his grip on her waist would loosen and drift away but that hasn't happened yet and it's making her uneasy.
"Oh! Do you find her fascinating perhaps? Taken a liking to my darling, now that won't do." he giggled to himself, and if she hadn't been forced to stay with him for an entire week, she wouldn't have noticed his slight change in tone.
"Don't be ridiculous, I find her qualities to be much more preferable than yours."
"Sheesh, it almost sounds like you're after my darling here, doctor." Dr. Ratio ignored the blonde and turned his attention to her, asking, "Why do you stick around with idiots? You should have better places to be than here."
"Umm... I-" Aventurine pulled her close to his body and pouted, "I suppose we are idiots in love, doctor."
She couldn't tell him what happened for her to end up miserably hopeless beside Aventurine, or if she could even get a chance.
'Do you like him or do you not?' She was cornered one afternoon. During that time she began regretting stepping out of her office, Aventurine was just outside waiting for her and she didn't know what he had in mind. 'where's this coming from?' she tried to pry in-between them some space, nervously smiling and looking to her right but he kept nearing her with a smug smile.
'Come on, we are friends... Right? Don't friends share their secrets?' she hadn't considered him a close friend, though she did enjoy his company.
'I mean he considers me to be much inferior to him... Probably, I'm likely too dumb to be with a genius.'
'Ah~ I didn't mention who 'he' was.'
She playfully pushed him back and shyly looked down, 'You and your stupid mind games.'
'Let's make a bet.' He grinned, and she groaned. Though she did win some of his bets, it remained difficult. 'Not this one again.' she took a step back.
'Come on don't be like that~ it will be fun.' She sighed and he took it as his cue to carry on. He took long strides towards her and smiled wide.
'Go on a date with me or...' he leaned into her ear, breathing out the last of his wager, 'stop liking him.'
He was testing her, making good use of her feelings and manifesting everything in his favor, though she wasn't surprised. Aventurine was always one step ahead and she was an idiot.
She likely didn't stand a chance against him. Whatever he had planned for them both, she doubted he would consider her livelihood. Aventurine can be selfish with the things he wants, she's realized that.
Aventurine took his time rubbing salt into Dr. Ratio's unseen wound, slyly smirking and giving her a quick kiss on her lip and clearly, it left her bewildered.
Was that her first lip-to-lip contact?
"Ugh-" Dr. Ratio released a disgusted noise and clutched his book closer to his chest, "take your lovey-dovey display somewhere else." Aventurine let out a haughty laugh and grinned, "Shouldn't you be saying how wonderful of a couple we are? Are you jealous of me Doctor?"
"With you being a shameless gambler and her a decent lady, I don't find anything much appealing."
Aventurine faked a sad sigh and looked at her, "Don't mind him, he's being salty he hasn't acquired a beautiful maiden like yourself." he kissed her cheek and she was tempted to say she didn't mind him, at all but decided to remain silent. "Let's go select some of the rings I've prepared for you!" he leaned back a little and gently stirred her around to the exit with his hand still holding onto her hip.
"What? Surely you aren't thinking of involving her in your cunning schemes and putting her in grave danger. Or perhaps you've lost your mind." That made Aventurine stop and she took a peek at his face, he wasn't showing any emotion but she could sense some spitefulness.
Eventually, Aventurine turned his face and grinned back at Dr. Ratio, "You shouldn't care about what belongs to me, doctor."
She didn't get to see what expression Ratio had wore as Aventurine was quick on his feet and quickly dragged her along with him. She let him sit beside her during the ride back to his place, and though she had meant to keep her lips sealed and tucked tight, curiosity had begun to gnaw away her peace.
So she asked, "Does he like me too?" if it were anybody else, anybody like Dr. Ratio she would be given a scowl and a complicated response of yes and no, but this was Aventurine and he would have known something she didn't beforehand.
His hand gently touched her knee, and he gave her his signature smile, "Oh, it seems like the doctor isn't very good at being subtle, but I digress, as a potential partner doctor would be horrible and it would be a nightmare for both parties. So it shouldn't matter whether he liked you or not."
"Right." She didn't know how to respond and it wasn't like she was hoping for the doctor to return her feelings or share her sentiment.
Aventurine turned towards her and smiled, "Moving on, I think we should wear a matching pair of attire tomorrow, so let's go shopping!"
She nodded, she couldn't lie she was enjoying the attention Aventurine was showering her with.
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muntitled · 7 months ago
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heyyyy!! my brain gave me a half-assed thought in the nighttime starring best friend/perv!Lee Minho and bimbo!Reader. Minho's ALWAYS flirting with and staring at you, but you just (somehow) never notice. he likes seeing you wear those little outfits that barely cover you up and always mentions that you should only wear that stuff for him. one day he was just at his limit after another failed attempt at flirting. so, he just pushes you against the wall. you can feel how hard he is behind you, but you didn't see this coming so you're freaking out. and he just tells you "i'm gonna have what i want. so you might as well take what i give you."
-💌 (p.s. i hope this was coherent) ((p.p.s. make sure you take time for yourself to rest and just breathe bc that beautiful mind of yours is so so important!! <3))
𝐏𝐢𝐭𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲
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Lee Minho x Fem!Reader
Warnings: Language, Angst, Insecurities, Jealousy, Possessive!Minho, Smut +18 (Minors DNI) dub/con, Bratty!reader, Brat Tamer!Minho, Perv!Minho, Dom/Sub Themes, Mean Dom!Minho, Degradation Kink, Praise Kink, Grinding, Mutual Masturbation, CNC, Overstimulation
Fueling the Dom!Minho agenda
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You did not particularly deal well with being unliked. Everybody has to like you all the time and there is no concrete way to tell your best friend this. Especially while he's driving down the highway, with rain pellets beating down the windshield.
You did not look at Minho when you initially slipped into the car. So completely and utterly suffocated by embarrassment.
The call prior to being picked up had been less than savoury.
"Isn't it too early to be calling me to come save you from your date?" His voice was completely drenched in his ususual smug sarcasm, "Or was he just that fucking boring?"
"I've been stood up and I'm not exactly sure where I am."
Almost immediately, Minho forced you to send your location until he was speeding over to where you sat, in your little dress all alone under the awning of a Michelin star restaurant.
You had thought the worst of the evening was behind you…
The car is completely drenched in silence with neither you, nor Minho knowing exactly how the broach such a sensitive topic. You're embarrassed. He knows this. The only thing evading his understanding is why… Why are you embarrassed when you shouldn't be?
"At least give me a name or an address or something," Minho's voice is dangerously low and you peer up at him with wide eyes from the passenger seat. Seeing him so put together is wholly off putting. Dressed in nothing but his sweats and a polo shirt- all black, all Tom Ford- Minho's gaze is fucking deadly as he glares at the road ahead. His frustration manifests in the form of whitened knuckles gripping a steering wheel for dear life.
"Minho, I'm not giving you his address just so you can go and harass him." The fact that you even had to reiterate this is beyond your comprehension.
"I honest-to-God, just wanna have a word with the guy..." Minho says, swinging his head towards you, completely paralysing you with the depths of his endless dark eyes. Instead of waging a war with Minho (one you knew you couldn't possibly win,) you choose to accept defeat. It consumes your entire countenance as you sink down into the passenger seat, avoiding eye contact.
"Why can't anyone love me?" The rain droplets rattling Minho's vehicle only amplifies the question and for the umpteenth time tonight, Minho is overcome with mass frustration. Again, you should not be the one feeling unwanted. You should not be letting scum of the very earth dictate the trajectory of your self worth. To make matters impossibly worse, another car swerves into his lane, completely cutting him off from a seamless drive.
"Jesus, Fuck!" While Minho curses out the driver, you keep your head against the window.
"I think I'm cursed to stay single and bitchless for the rest of my life."
You didn't get it.
You were a fairly good girl, never once stepping out of bounds. Not at work: where you worked so diligently for a boss who didn't always deserve it.
Not in your adolescence: Where you never rebelled, not even once. You lovingly spared your parents all the heartache even after you matured enough to go to college.
Perhaps the reason all your dates ended with a certified ghosting was because you simply weren't cut out for relationships. That is the most harrowing thought of them all...
Minho's voice pipes up from beside you, effectively saving you from slipping into self pity, "I think you're overlooking one major factor when it comes to staying single and bitchless for the rest of your life," You're already rolling your eyes, "And what's that?"
You can practically hear the pompous smirk as Minho says, "I'm right here. I'm always right here."
Instead of responding, your tone remains wistful and airy.
"The guy took one look at me and gassed the fuck out of the restaurant." Your blood pressure is being shot to hell at just the very thought of the man (who had contacted you first, thank you very much).
"It's like he decided reality didn't match what he saw on tinder and took it all back..." you conclude your rant with a heavy and listless exhale.
Minho, who continued to glare at the wet tar road ahead, allows his mind to conjure up every possible way your 'date' might've died on his way home. Instead of voicing these homicidal thoughts, Minho instead, cleverly and cooly asks, "What kind of weirdos are you going on dates with?"
Your reply comes sickeningly quick. "The kind of weirdos that give me the time of day," and to make matters impossibly worse, you attach a pitiful and dry chuckle to the end of your sentence. "Not everyone is like you, Minho. Not everyone has the luxury of being the object of everyone's desires." His stomach sinks deeper and deeper with the sadness that coats your voice. Anything that might save him from this suffocating feeling at the bottom of his stomach brought on by the sadness in your tone.
"I just don't get it?" Your sad eyes watch as Minho pulls into the parking lot of his apartment complex.
"I didn't smell bad ‘cus I made sure to wear Chanel number five-" Minho can do nothing except clench his jaw. His grip on the steering wheel is deadly as he eases his car into the vacant spot… “and this dress Lix bought me for graduation- I mean he assured me I don't look fucking bloated in it so I assume I looked fine." He tries to make it through your pity party, really, he does. Whenever you found yourself in this state, slipping deeper and deeper into your insecurities, Minho found it terribly difficult to pull you out.
Difficult but not impossible
"I'm telling you," he chooses to say instead, righting his shoulders and cutting off the engine as he forces that confident smirk back onto his face, "If you wanna get laid so badly I'm always a phone call away...."
Instead of entertaining Minho's words, your mind wanders, “Maybe I'm just not hardwired for a relationship. Maybe all I'll have until I reach my deathbed is my rose toy and 5000 cats-”
“False. You have my fingers any time. Or my mouth-”
And for some reason, that statement alone… that one little flirt becomes the undoing of your sanity. “MINHO BE SERIOUS FOR FIVE FUCKING SECONDS JESUS CHRIST!” You do not know, nor do you care if your voice is loud enough to bleed outside, enough to disrupt any passerbys. You've fucking had it.
With men who disappoint you.
With men who say they'll show up but choose not to.
“I'm telling you I fucking failed this evening! I failed and you're not listening-
In what appears to be a snarky remark to the side, Minho mumbles, “I'm not the one that's not listening-”
“I don't need your teasing right now, Jesus! The fact that I have to spell that out-” you release a sigh “Fucking never mind,” you feel utterly defeated, and before you brain catches up to the movement of your hands, you're already typing frantically for a ride assistance app.
Minho scoffs incredulously. That sunshine smile bleeds quickly into a dangerous glare and he watches as you type frantically across your screen. “Say what you gotta say.”
“I didn't ask you to come pick me up, just so you could interrogate me-” before your sentence could become another uphill screaming match you shake your head in a way that has Minho's knuckles whitening across the inactive steering wheel. His patience was dwindling dismally and he had the vaguest suspicion that you know this.
In fact, you might have always known this: Which buttons to push to get which reaction.
He's noticed it for a while since the peroration of your ‘friendship’. Something that blossomed into a friendship when he so very clearly tried to make it everything but.
“I'm gonna take an Uber home,” you say in a tone he can only describe as bratty.
“I swear to fucking God.” he says, manic eyes crinkling at the sides in a smile of disablief, his tongue jutting against the inside of his cheek.
Minho's not sure what he wants to do but he's damn sure you're not going to like it. “If you set foot out of this car-” He pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index. Quietly muttering Korean expletives while you sit meekly, taking your scolding. “If you set foot out this car-”
“You're not my father, Minho,” he flinches. “I'm getting my uber-”
“Try it, see what happens.”
“Minho, goodnight.”
The last thing you expect to feel as your hand touches the car handle, is Minho’s larger hand covering your wrist in a calloused grip. His hand is firm, almost concrete and before you're able to process this, he's already dragging your face towards him.
“W-What the f-fuck, Minho, let me go!” the words come out mangled and squashed because Minho has his hands squishing your cheeks in an equally iron grip. Enough to have your teeth pushing against the inside of your cheeks. Enough to have tears stinging your eyes.
“Why the fuck do you never listen?” He whispers, almost to himself. As if he's completely forgotten about the girl, leaning over the centre console because he's squishing her cheeks for dear life. You anticipate the bruises. You can almost feel them coming on.
“It's like you purposely want to piss me off-”
Despite the aircon pouring warm hair to combat the Korean chill you feel very much icy all over. It's as if the chill has seeped into your very bones and it's not long until you're completely wracked in a series of violent shivers. You have never experienced anything like this.
Minho watches in apparent awe at the way your pupils, dark as they, dilate into even darker slits. His hand shifts silently from your cheeks, to your jaw, and lower until his hand is wrapping around your neck.
“Are you wearing panties right now?”
The question hurtles through your foggy brain like a runaway train until you're forced to bore your eyes into his, “What?”
“Which pair are you wearing right now?” He asks, despite the hand already drifting from your neck, all the way down your body. He swipes his hand against your slightly damp skin, prying your thighs apart with his hand as if it were nothing. “I wanna see which you were planning to have on for him,” he knew he wouldn't like, whatever the outcome may be, but he's only just begun this game and he's not ready to stop.
“Minho.” Your hand shoots out to cradle his bicep, which proves to be a deeply harrowing mistake for someone as inexperienced as you are because his arms are so firm, so taut. You instinctively find your thighs opening just a fraction wider, even as you say, “I don't think we should do this.” You begin oh so slowly. Hoping to convey with your eyes, that which you refused to say with your lips. “I want you to stop.” Minho is absolutely breathless at the sight of the stars sparkling in your dazed eyes.
He knows exactly what you want and he's damn well going to give it to you. An escape.
“I've never known a bigger slut than you, you know that?” So casual. So forward. His words nearly have you whimpering into the quiet air.
“I can see how badly you want this,” Never ever letting his gaze stray from your helpless expression, Minho pushes his hand further into the apex of your thighs and you wait. You wait with bated breath for the euphoria to trickle in by the cold tips of his fingers touching the lace of your underwear. “You want it so bad, don't you?”
“I-I- don't,” you force the words out with your hands unknowingly wrapping themselves around Minho's forearm. “This whole time, you knew,” he laughs dryly as he lets the pad of his fingers finally reach your clothed cunt. Your legs are trembling. “You fucking knew I wanted you and yet you still went on your little date anyways,”
That has you momentarily slipping out of your subspace, but before he lets that happen, he's rubbing slow circles against your cunt, with his right hand, a hand closest to the console, easier to reach the most intimate parts of you.
“didn't know, Minho,” the whimpers leaving your mouth are soft, so intimate, like the colour pink personified and it has Minho squeezing his eyes shut for all of a few tense seconds.
When his eyes flutter open again, the old Minho is nowhere to be found. Gone is the overly flirty best friend. Gone is the unnecessary jokester. Gone is the dry humour. The only thing in its place is a stone whisper of a smirk as he says, “Ride my hand.”
“W-What-”
“You don't talk,” he says, before sliding your panties to the side, “Useless little girls don't get to talk.” He says, racking a moan from straight out your throat as his hand presses against your drenched heat. “Useless little girls don't even get to speak.”
“Minho-”
“All you think about is getting to cum, right?” There's so much of a condescending nature in its tone, it almost has you instinctively tightening your grip on the forearm between your legs and pushing your heat against his fingers. The sight of you so worked up by his bad words have Minho cursing under his breath.
You're watching him as if he invented the stars, as if to say ‘What else’, and it drives him to complete madness.
“F-Fuck,”
“She knows how to say bad words,” he cackles as you squish your soaked cunt against his calloused palm. His knuckles are pressed firmly into the seat and his wrist is giving out but his horny brain fog is far too powerful.
“That's it, Petal,” he says, watching almost as if slipping into his own trance, “fuck my hand, I wanna see how bad you want it-”
“P-Please-” You whisper, “I need your cock-”
“You don’t get to make demands when you're being punished,” he mumbles, before leaning his head back against his seat, watching you desperately try to bring yourself to orgasm by rutting your hips against his hand. “Unless, you don't need my help and you'd rather just make yourself cum-”
“NO!” you keep a firm grip on his forearm, bottom lip quivering as you stare at him with wide eyes. “I'm s-so close, please.”
Minho can't help it. The very act of you asking him for something as sacred as an orgasm… It has him trying to adjust the bulge forming in his sweatpants.
“You're close, yeah?” He asks, now entering his own pleasure. He slips his left hand into his boxers while he watches you ride his hand.
“You’re close from humping that wet pussy against my hand?”
“Oh god, yes,”
“You’re such a good fucking girl you know that?” His breathing is heavy now because he's jerking himself off to the same pace as your cunt rubbing itself against his hand.
“You're such a good whore,” he whispers.
“Call me that again- p-please I’m gonna cum!”
“I've always wanted to treat you like the whore I know you are,” he whispers, watching as your eyes slip to the back of your skull, “I hated watching you go on those dates.”
“M-Minho-”
“Kill them,” he whispers silently, “I’ve fucking wanted to kill every single one of them.” he squeezes his cock, feeling his own ripples of pleasure shoot down your spine.
“Y-Yours,” you whisper, “I'm yours-”
“F-Fuck baby-” Sensing Minho slipping into his own prgasm, you grind your cunt harder against his hand. It doesn't take much for you to make a complete mess all over his seats. You're both wracked with a wave of shivers and Minho tries to keep his eyes open as he milks his cock for all it's got. He wants to watch your hips stutter. He wants to see how you look when you cum and he wants to commit it to memory.
He decides it's the most addictive thing he's ever seen.
“No fucking way you made me cum all over myself like some fuckcing teenager,” he grumbles, staring down at the mess he's made all over his shirt.
You're still a panting shivering mess and you yelp when Minho squeezes your sensitive, overstimulated clit.
“Hey,” he says, gaining your attention immediately, “No more dates yeah?”
You do nothing but nod.
<3
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gildedkrone · 1 year ago
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KINKTOBER 2023 🔞
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Price, who is an excellent soft dom in the bedroom. Driven by pride and ego, he always sought to fulfil your pleasure before his own during your trysts. He’s always checking on you and making sure your emotional and physical needs are met through praises and mouthy lips on yours.
Price, who returns home from his job with a weary heart and tired body. The mission went south and kept him from his beloved sweetheart for an additional five days. He agrees in an instant and a few minutes later, his shirt is unbuttoned and his trousers are pulled down to his thighs.
“Luv, please … have mercy …” Price groans when his tip is pressed against your ass for the third time. It’s long, stiff, and stands proudly, and he would’ve gripped your hips if it weren’t for the cuffs on his wrists keeping his grubby hands off your body.
“Patience, captain.” You smirk when he lets loose another curse before his temper cascades into a deep growl when he’s finally had enough of your teasing. It’s been weeks and he had looked forward to burying himself balls deep in his lover for days to satiate his urges and needs. Only to be tied down to the bed with your clumsy rear taunting him.
It’s the furthest his dick has gone into you and you purr, “C’mon, you can beg for more.”
The yelp from your lips accompanies a ripping sound and hands clasp around your neck to flip your over with the captain settling on your pelvis. He’s fuming, oh he is, and by all means he is unimpressed as you backpedal with an uneasy laugh, “Hey, cap, no need to be so angry yeah? I’m just teasing you.”
The broken pieces of velcro tape laid by your forearms and your hips are jerking and twitching when his dick fills your greedy hole so quickly and you are instantly regretting your decisions. Price would absolutely breed you until you are a shivering mess, all loose and strengthless with his seed spilling out around your white rim and onto the bed. Your torso, painted white from your own release and sticky and if Price is feeling really bold, licks a line between from your navel to your chest through the mess.
Make no mistake; Price may not be the youngest man you’ve been with but he’s got that stamina to just keep going and by the third round, he is only partially satiated while you are out of the count. He doesn’t stop of course, and you are bred over and over again until your ass hurts and your dick shoots blanks.
He makes good on his threat, and when he’s done, he rests his wet cock on your chest and runs the bath to get you cleaned up before he is snuggling you under the covers.
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König is also a soft dom but, occasionally, he does have a mean streak which manifests itself in dirty talk and aggressiveness. The man works very hard in his career, how else would he be a colonel at 34, and needs an outlet for his stress occasionally and what better candidate than his boyfriend—you?
König knows he is much larger than your previous partners and is always cautious of being rough in bed with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, even if you are built Ford tough. But you know to bring out the colonel in him, all you need is to tease him relentlessly and act like a spoilt brat before he is putting a stop to it.
“Schatz, bitte! B-bitte!” He pulls on the restrains as you slide off his dick again. König’s so damn hard from just the initial few touches and his muffled groans are much louder when his dick lodges itself between your cheeks. He’s desperate for you to just move.
“Kö, c’mon, where’s that self-restraint? Aren’t you a soldier or something?” Long auburn hair is messily splayed on the pillow and he wiggles his hips to get some friction on his neglected length even when you tut gently to keep his hips in place.
He pants, “N-no more … Let me feel you, bärchen. I’ll make you feel good, I promise ah!”
“Kö, what kind of colonel begs so easily? Should I tell your coworkers?” His eyes flash with indignation and the straps on the bedframe is pulled taut and then, snaps as König grabs your hair and pulls you off his hips. You barely register the pillow against your face before he pulls your hips up and his fat dick pushes past a tight rim into heat with a sigh from the colonel and it stings when he slaps your ass and gives you a good stroke.
“You are really asking for it, schatz. Do you need to be punished?” And by god, you are absolutely going to be screaming into the pillows as he uses your body like his cock sleeve. He will joke about his handprints on your hips later and you whine as the punishing pace begins and his cruel laughter fuels the drool falling from your lips.
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Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist || requested by @hcnteur 💞
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just-jordie-things · 9 months ago
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let the light in - ryomen sukuna
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✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 10k follower event special! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
word count: 15.5k warnings: mentions of fighting and injuries, reader has a cursed technique but i don't describe it bc i'm lazy, she's actually pretty weak in this ngl i needed her to be a bit of a damsel in distress. sukuna is pretty out of character but he has to be. also sukuna can take control of yuji's body when he's asleep bc i decided so ok it's my first time writing for him so bare with me. summary: reincarnation!au with a twist. in every life sukuna finds you in, he has to remind you of who you once were- and who you once were to each other. it's a burden, but it's one he's carried for centuries and he wouldn't have it any other way. more info: slowburn enemies to ?? to lovers, sukuna is hopelessly in love with reader its very fun ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ ooh let the light in // at your back door yelling cause i wanna come in // ooh turn your light on // look at us, you and i back at it again ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Finding her in this life was the first thing on his mind as soon as his consciousness was manifested.  Just like every era before this one, she’s always his first thought.
The second thought was- what the fuck? 
In all of his centuries walking this earth, he’d never been quite out of body like this.  As in, in a completely different body from his own.  And much to his displeasure, he’d manifested inside of some brat jujutsu sorcerer that was a bit too strong for his own good.  No worries, though, after they tracked down a few more of his cursed fingers he’d be able to take proper control and Itadori Yuji would cease to exist as soon as Sukuna regained his full strength.
So for some time, he played nice.  Or, as nice as he could, that was.  He sat back in his domain and waited.  He’d never been one with a strong sense of patience- he may have been a man once but he was a curse now- but if it meant strengthening his chances in being reunited with her sooner, then he would play the long game.  Besides, he could have some fun torturing the brat and his friends for a little while, right? No harm in some chaos and carnage along the way.  He would need good stories to tell her when they were together again, anyways.
There were times where the brat began to wonder what it was Sukuna was doing there, quietly tucked into his domain.  On the rare occasion that he didn’t rear his head into conversation with a nasty comment coming from a mouth materialized on his cheek or the back of his hand.  Times passed where Yuji would cringe awaiting Sukuna’s inevitable filth, but instead he was gifted with silence from the curse inhabiting him.  The young sorcerer could only assume that this meant he was doing something else- but what? What could he possibly occupy himself with while trapped in his own domain? Some days Yuji worried he was plotting something, but others he wondered if the King of Curses was just lost in thought.  Did he daydream?
Sukuna wouldn’t call it that, but if anyone were able to catch him in the act, they’d know it was exactly that.  All he could do with his time is imagine how he’d reunite with her in this life.  It was one of his favorite parts of each new century or so, and after hundreds of lifetimes, there were plenty of memories to keep himself occupied with.
This time he knew he’d have to outdo himself, seeing as he was in an unfamiliar body, and he could only hope that she liked this one as much as the last.  Perhaps the next time he took control of it he’d make sure everything was up to standard- he couldn’t have her rejecting him just because he was in some brat’s body this time.  On the other hand, he knew her to be more playful and experimental than he was, so maybe she’d find a change in host exciting.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
To his delight, Sukuna is reunited with the great love of his life sooner than expected.  To his great displeasure, it’s at exactly the wrong time.
He’d been irritated enough having his brat vessel tap out just because he couldn’t take on a measly little Special Grade.  Of course, he wasn’t about to appease some righteous jujutsu sorcerer’s agenda by exorcizing the curse himself.  But in the end, the curse disappointed him too, thinking that it could pick a fight with the King of Curses and come out of it alive.
Pride outweighed vengeance, and he found himself entertained with playing with the Special Grade.  Playing, because of course it’s abilities were weak compared to real jujutsu, unlike the childish display the brat had put up first.
He’s so drawn in by his play fight with the curse that he’d completely missed her- that is until he’s using his Domain Expansion, and from the corner of one of his eyes he finally notices.
While it’s a shock that he’s managed to let the great love of his life go unnoticed, she isn’t exactly… conscious.
The special grade is sliced diced and forgotten, barely even a blip in Sukuna’s memory now once he recognizes the slumped over body on a pile of rubble a few hundred feet away.  He’s delighted, ecstatic even.  The bloodthirsty grin on his face is replaced by a beam of pure thrill.  He’d previously thought it might take years to find her in this life, so to stumble across her now, after getting control of this body over a mere pest, was a real treat.
He approaches her limp body so quickly he’s practically teleported to her, and his beam begins to falter as he takes in her current state.
It’s not a matter of worry that she’s fairly beat up and knocked unconscious so hard there’s soft snores between heavy breaths, her mortal body working overtime to keep her alive at all- it was nothing a quick use of his Reverse Cursed Technique couldn’t fix.
The wince of disgust that contorts his features is directed solely at her attire.  
Crisp black button up torn open to reveal the same shade of undershirt snugly fitting her underneath, paired with pants of the same material.  He didn’t need to see the crest at the collar of her shirt to give him further context as to what she was up to in this century.
“Of course,” He utters through his snarl as he crouches down towards her, hands glowing as he promptly heals her wounds.  She doesn’t awaken, her body growing even more exhausted after being put through the technique, but her muscles do appear to relax as she slumps further into the dirty ground.  “You would be a sorcerer in this lifetime.  Idiot,” 
The cruel name falls from his lips with nothing but melted affection.  No other person on this earth would be allowed to hear him speak this way and live to tell the tale.  It was reserved only for her- and she wasn’t even awake to hear it now.
With steady hands Sukuna gathers her in his arms, trying to bend her into a more comfortable position.  She doesn’t wince or complain when bruised limbs drag across broken slabs of concrete.  If he wasn’t able to hear the steady beat of her heart, she would have easily been mistaken for dead already.
“A shitty reunion this time around, I’m afraid,” 
Sukuna sighs before he sits fully on the ground.  He’s not sure how much longer he’d be in control of this body, but any thoughts of fleeing to bring as much destruction to Tokyo is far from his mind.  He wants nothing more than to sit here with his lover and hope that she’d wake back up before he’s dragged back into his domain.
With one arm wrapped under her shoulders to keep her limp body closely tucked to him, his free hand brushes the messy strands of hair away from her resting face.  She looks peaceful, even though when she wakes she’d still carry the aches of her healed injuries.  The tips of his fingers linger over her soft cheek as he admires her.
“Just as beautiful in this life as you were in every one before it, my love,” He murmurs, so quiet that even if she were conscious enough to hear it, she probably wouldn’t have.
He only gets a few moments of peace with her before he can feel a stir from inside of him, and he can faintly make out Yuji gaining his consciousness back.  He snarls in his aggravation, wishing he could knock the brat out so he could get just a little more time with his long lost love, even if she wasn’t her usual lively self.
“Come, we have things to do” He tells her, before he pulls her closer and lifts her up.  
He makes his way out of the destroyed building with leisure, knowing that the other sorcerer, Fushiguro, would be waiting outside for a fight.  It wasn’t in his plans to end the kid’s life just yet, but with the reunion of his one true love coming prematurely, things might have to change.  Oh well, he was flexible.
She fusses in his arms upon the lift, but even with her pinching brows and twitching eyelids, she never quite wakes up.  Which was alright, they would have plenty of time to properly catch up in a bit.  Sukuna had other things to handle first.
It would be some time still before she properly met the King of Curses face to face- in this life anyways- as shortly after his departure of the ruined building, he would have to set her aside to take care of a few of the weaker level shikigamis that the Fushiguro kid sent his way.  After ripping the brat’s heart out of their shared chest, it would be a few weeks before things seemingly transitioned back to normal.
When (y/n) would finally come to in the infirmary a few hours after it all went down, Megumi would relay how the King of Curses had carried her out in his arms.  She’d give him a bitter laugh, thinking he was trying to lighten the mood after the news of the death of their friend.  But Megumi wasn’t usually very good at telling jokes, and after seeing his grave expression stay put, her face would fall.
“You’re serious?” 
Megumi nods, the thin line of his lips unwavering.
(y/n) blinks a few times as she processes it slowly.  She’s still not sure that she believes him, but she doesn’t have a reason not to either.  If Gojo had told her this she’d have rolled her eyes, and maybe called him insensitive and unserious, but why would Megumi make something like that up? 
“I don’t understand,” She tells him with a furrowed brow, and the way Megumi shrugs one shoulder unenthusiastically tells her he didn’t understand it any better than she did.  “You’re telling me he saved me?” 
“Maybe, I don’t know,” Megumi replies dryly.  He should’ve known she’d ask him questions he clearly didn’t have the answers for, so he tried to provide her with what he did know so that maybe she wouldn’t torment him with more of her own questions.  “But he brought you out, and set you down somewhere with your head propped up, and he didn’t try to attack you at all.  At least, it looked like he didn’t” 
Her tongue darts over the dryness of her bottom lip as her jaw hangs open at him.  She doesn’t bother him with more useless questions, but that doesn’t mean the whole ordeal wasn’t plaguing her mind.
Something was very strange about that behavior.  But with Yuji gone, she figured it was no use trying to decipher it all anyways.  Maybe after some time when her grief wears off into something she could live with, she could forget about it completely. 
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
With Yuji turning out to be alive and well, Sukuna’s plans shifted once more.  He’d tortured him as best he could without the ability of taking control of the body, letting his friend be turned into a transfigured human, refusing to kill the spirit that called itself Mahito- as upsetting as it was to his brat vessel, Sukuna cared very little for such trivial events.  In fact, if Yuji were to shut up about it, he probably could have forgotten completely.  He only had one goal on his mind- to return to her again.  Anything else was merely a stepping stone along the way.
Just as before, Sukuna spends most of his time in his domain without much noise.  Except this time, Yuji starts to get an inkling of what he’s doing.
“It’s unbecoming and submissive of you to pretend to be dead,” 
Sukuna taunts one day while Yuji’s working on his ‘training’ on Gojo’s couch while he invests himself with a romantic movie.  His sudden appearance was a good test to his abilities, though, as the sleeping cursed puppet on Yuji’s lap doesn’t stir.  It was safe to say that Yuji had gotten as used to sharing his body with the curse as he was going to get.
“What if your little sorcerer friends need you?” Sukuna chuckles.  He quite enjoys the image of Fushiguro and the little red-headed girl struggling to keep up with mere Second Grade curses.  
“They’re fine” Yuji replies casually, barely paying attention to the mouth on his face that wasn’t his.  The movie was just getting good, after all.
“You think they can manage to hold their own?” Sukuna scoffs at the thought.  “With half-assed cursed techniques like theirs?” 
“Fushiguro and Kugisaki are the most cutthroat people I’ve ever known.  Didn’t Fushiguro almost kick your ass?” Yuji mutters, more irritated than offended by Sukuna’s cruelty.  “You’re just lucky you haven’t had to deal with (y/l/n)” 
So is that what she was calling herself this time? Sukuna’s lips tilt into a smirk.
“She doesn’t seem like much to be afraid of,” The words themselves are harsh, but something in his tone changes.  Enough that Yuji starts to lose focus on the television.  “Last I saw her she was half dead.  If it weren’t for me, she would have been dead-dead” 
That finally catches Yuji’s full attention, and he misses the next few lines of the movie when he asks, “What’s that supposed to mean?” 
Sukuna’s silent, thoughtfully so, as he tries to find just the right way to play his cards.  Does he use his history with the brat’s friend as a scare tactic? Or does he keep that little fact to himself for a while longer? Either way, the longer he’s silent, the more Yuji begins to go stir crazy.
“Hey, you old curse!” He hollers suddenly, causing the cursed puppet in his lap to wake up and start to get aggressive.  Yuji heaves as the tiny thing rears a heavy punch into his gut, but it doesn’t stop him from interrogating the curse inside of him.  “What did you mean by that!?” He huffs out.
Sukuna chuckles, and just as quickly as he’d appeared on Yuuji’s cheek, he disappeared again, hiding away in his domain and entertaining himself with the sight of Yuji getting beat up by a little cursed teddy bear.
Perhaps he’d let the brat overthink for a little while longer, anxiety was a form of suffering after all, wasn’t it? At least watching the brat worry himself sick about it would provide him some amusement for the coming days.  Until the sanction of his fake death is lifted, and he could go back to his goal of being reunited with his love.  
(y/l/n).  Her new surname rings in his head as he settles in his domain and lets his mind begin to wander again.  As pretty as it was, he’d have to return it to the proper name.  His name.
Yuji is attacked by Yaga’s cursed puppet a few more times that evening, but not due to the film changing his range of emotions.  In fact, it was due to his complete lack of focus on the movie.  All he could think about was what business Sukuna could possibly have with (y/n).
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
When he makes his surprise reappearance for his friends, Yuji debates on pulling (y/n) aside and asking her about what Sukuna had mentioned.  But for all he knew, he very well could have been toying with him, and ultimately he decided to enjoy what little time he had to catch up with his friends before they dove into the Exchange Event.  It just didn’t seem worth bringing up at this time.
But for some reason, when she takes her seat as the Tokyo students begin their planning, Yuji’s compelled to sit beside her.  It’s not an odd choice, it’s not out of character for him, she is his friend after all, but he’s quite aware of the way his feet move on their own accord to carry him to the empty seat beside her.  Yuji knows his body, and he knows he wasn’t the one commanding it to do that.
It makes him gulp when he unceremoniously plops into the seat.  (y/n) gives him a look, something crossed between confusion and amusement, but she brushes it off and doesn’t say a word as she shifts her focus back to Maki.  Yuji tries to ignore it as well, a bit embarrassed about the whole display.  Was that really Sukuna? He tried to clear his mind, too, it was quite important that he took in everything Maki was saying, but his mind is wrapped up in whatever game the King of Curses was playing right now.
And finally, when he thinks he’s heard enough of the game plan for the event, he feels it.
The slit under his right eye opens, the side facing (y/n).  Yuji holds his breath, hoping that Sukuna doesn’t open his loud mouth and bark out something insulting, but he doesn’t.  His mouth never materializes.  He simply stares.
It’s almost worse.
A few minutes pass and no one seems to notice, as the attention of the room is still commanded by Maki.  Except for Yuji himself, as he’d stopped listening to her altogether while he anxiously awaited whatever was to come next.  What was he doing? He began to bounce his leg.
His throat closes up when he sees (y/n) turn her head out of the corner of his eye.  He doesn’t meet her gaze, even though she’s clearly staring at him- or Sukuna, he supposes- but she doesn’t speak up.  She’s just as silent as the curse he’s hosting.  Still, her gaze remains on the dark eye peeking out at her.  If they weren’t in a room with all of their peers, Yuji would’ve broken his ignorant demeanor by now, but something inside him tells him to keep his mouth shut.
When the group disbanded for a quick lunch before the event officially started, (y/n) remained seated while the others filtered out, and when Yuji began to stand, she stopped him.  All she’s done is reach a hand out, she barely even touches his arm, but it’s enough for him to stop in his tracks, and he stays put in his seat.
They don’t say anything until the room is empty, and even then, (y/n) chooses to speak quietly, almost under her breath.
“What the hell is going on with…” She pauses, her eyes flickering between Yuji’s and the ones below, before she raises her hand in a small gesture.  “Him?” She mumbles it so low, afraid that saying his name would be enough to summon him, even though he’s so clearly already there before her.
“I don’t-” 
Yuji starts, but before he could say anything- or think of anything to say- Sukuna’s mouth is materializing on his cheek.  It’s an unsettling feeling on its own, but Yuji always felt a certain chill on his spine whenever he’d feel that mouth forming a smile.
“Just missed lookin’ at you, sweetheart” 
Yuji’s face is sickly pale in a matter of seconds, the fear that settles over him tenses up all of his muscles, to the point they ache, and as much as he wants to remove himself (and Sukuna) from this situation, he’s frozen in place.  Too stunned to say anything, too stunned to move, he just stands there helplessly as (y/n’s) wide eyes dart between both pairs on his face.
(y/n’s) reaction comes first, the shocked expression wearing off into something else.  Yuji can’t place what it is- anger, disgust- but she loses the desire to keep the conversation quiet as reality settles over her.
“What!?” It comes out in a screech, but it’s just as quickly followed by absolute rambling.  “What the hell are you talking about? What the hell is he talking about?” She awkwardly shifts her gaze between both sets of eyes, unsure and unfamiliar with how to communicate with the both of them.
“I- I don’t-” 
Again, Yuji’s interrupted before he can come up with anything.
“We still have all the time in the world, for now you just keep your pretty little head focused on this game of yours, hm?” 
Just like that, the fanged mouth is disappearing and Yuji’s cheek is returned to it’s normal state again.
(y/n) blinks, going silent again while her face is flushing with color.  Now her eyes seem to focus on the lower, darker pair of eyes.  It’s hard to gauge what Sukuna is thinking, or feeling.  With only a narrowed set of eyes to go off of, not to mention he’s a reckless curse, he’s not a man, she doesn’t know what to make of the interaction.
But with the memory of what Megumi had told her, a dread begins to weigh down her chest.  Whatever this behavior was about, it couldn’t mean anything could.  It was unwanted attention, that was for sure.  No matter how warm her face felt, or how nervous she suddenly was just being around Yuji.
Soon enough the eyes shut too, but even though it appears it’s only her and Yuji in the room, she can still feel Sukuna’s presence.  She swallows the lump in her throat like it’s lead.
“Let’s just…” Her eyes flit away from the closed lids, meeting Yuji’s warm but worried gaze again.  She’s not sure if it’s a comfort or not that he seems just as anxious as she feels.  “Let’s just get through the Exchange Event first” She suggests.
She’s sure that this is the right choice of action.  There was simply no time to dwell on Sukuna’s out of character behavior- then again she didn’t know him, she didn’t know what was in character, he was a curse!- not with all of their peers relying on them to secure the win for the Tokyo Prefecture.
Although she couldn’t deny her head wasn’t exactly in the game during the event.  When she finds herself getting sloppy, taking hits she normally should have been able to dodge, she begins to curse the King of Curses himself.  Surely this whole thing was an act, that was what he was best at, wasn’t it? Torture? Mind games? He was probably laughing it up in his domain watching her struggle so miserably at an event she couldn’t have been more prepared for.
When shit really hit the fan and curses and curse users reared their ugly heads in the middle of a semi-light hearted game, it dawned on her just how out of it she’d really become.  Suddenly it didn’t matter how Mai shouldn’t have been able to get that shot at her shoulder- or how she should’ve seen Miwa’s Domain Expansion coming.  There was no way she was going to let a curse like him get in her head and keep her from protecting her friends and herself from a real threat.
And once this attack in the middle of their event was taken care of and the scores were settled, she’d find a way to give the King of Curses a piece of her mind.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
That time came sooner than expected, and it’s seemingly out of nowhere when he pays her a little visit.
Deep down she knows that she should be terrified when the King of Curses is at her door requesting her time for ‘a talk’ as he called it.  A thousand questions should flood her mind, and after some time they’ll begin to register, slowly and one by one, far later than it’s appropriate to ask.
He’d gotten her alone, and this should terrify her further, she should feel like a lamb in the presence of a wolf- no- curse.  But for some reason, when he enters the training room she’d been doing warm ups in, all she does is stare at him.
Sukuna knows that there’s no way she could have mistaken him for the brat, not with all of his markings, not with his vermillion eyes, not with the abundant amount of cursed energy he carried with him.  Any other mortal would straighten up, freeze in place and stare at him in utter fear as they waited for whatever fate he bestowed upon them.
Not her.
Foolishly, he believes this is due to the lifetimes they’d spent together before this one.  Even though he’s well aware of the rules of the courtship.  He recalls many meetings before this one where he’d had to open her eyes to the Binding Vow that brought her back in every lifetime.  Still, he naively held onto a hope that her lack of reaction to his presence now is because somewhere inside of her, she knows she doesn’t need to be afraid of him like the others.
(y/n’s) true feelings couldn’t have been farther from his assumptions.  It may have been a moment of poor judgment, but the moment he’d materialized at that door, irritation overrode self preservation.  It didn’t matter that the cursed energy he carried was so heavy it was palpable.  
She took one look at the King of Curses and furrowed her brows like she was a child he’d wronged, and there wasn’t an ounce of fear for her life when she’s the first to speak.
“What the fuck are you doing out?” 
Out, it’s a funny choice of word, isn’t it? Sukuna can’t help the chuckle of amusement.  Did she mean out and about, casually roaming the sacred grounds, or could she have meant out due to his control over the brat’s body? 
A frown settles on her lips when she sees he’s already enjoying himself.  She should be wondering what he’s been up to before he came here, or when exactly it was he gained control over Yuji’s body.
“And what happened to-” 
Before she could fully voice her worry for her friend, Sukuna’s waving a dismissive hand.
“The brat’s fine, not everything has to be about him, you know” He scolds her as if this was a conversation they’d had a hundred times before now.  Her frown deepens.
“Forgive me for caring more about him than a curse like you” She scoffs back at him.
How was it that in every lifetime she had to have that same bad attitude? Of course eventually she’d always settle down and warm back up to him, century and century again.  Some cases took days, others years, and Sukuna was starting to get a feeling that due to the circumstances they found themselves in this time around, this case could be the latter.  He frowns at the thought.
He found her so quickly this time, why did she have to be so stubborn? 
“Always such a brat, I can hardly tell the difference between you,” He replies.
The look of disgust on her face is washed away by mild surprise.  Both from the soft and easy cadence of his usually rough and cruel voice, and from the realization that he probably should have killed her for talking back to him the way she did.  Now she starts to wonder just how many buttons she can push before she sees the true side of the King of Curses.
Her brows pinch together as she watches him with calculations behind her eyes.  Was this all a part of the act from before? 
“How interesting could things have been if you’d swallowed the finger that day and not this brat, hm?” He muses, and he seems genuinely curious about it.  
(y/n) can barely keep up with him, trying too hard to jump to conclusions before he’s revealed them.  Then again, there might be nothing to understand at all- this was all a part of the mind games, wasn’t it? She makes a mental note to meet with Gojo about this.  Sukuna must’ve had greater plans in mind that the strongest sorcerer should be looped in on.  Even if so far… he hadn’t exactly done anything… just made her friendship with Yuji fairly awkward.
Sukuna hasn’t moved from the doorway.  Her eyes sweep over him carefully as she wonders if this is purposeful.  If his motive is to give her a false sense of safety.
“Humor me for a moment, (y/n)” 
He sounds out her name like it’s an unfamiliar word, and for the first time since he’d appeared minutes prior, there’s a familiar hollow in her chest.  At first she tags it as distress, but the way it lingers like a dull ache has her double guessing it’s cause.
“What?” 
No should’ve been what came out of her mouth- if anything needed to be said at all.  Would he let her leave if she tried? Would he punish her for it? However, despite every instinct begging to drag her in a different direction, she can’t help the intrigue she feels for him.
“What’re you doing here as a sorcerer?” He hums again with his question, eyes narrowing on her slightly as he takes account of her every reaction.
She’s holding her breath right now, it’s obvious in her tense jaw and unmoving chest.  Not even a strand of hair waves in it’s place.  Every part of her is so still, he could easily mistake it as her natural instinct to fear him as her natural predator.  He knows this isn’t the case.
She opens her mouth to protest the question at first, but just as quickly, her jaw slacks, and she’s closing it softly as she sits on it a little more thoughtfully.
“Why do you ask?” 
It irks him to have a question answered with another question.  This was another quirk of hers that she always had in the earlier stages of their reunion.  Even with the grain of irritation, Sukuna still finds himself amused in the way that she truly is the same person in every lifetime.  She may have different names, and occasionally a feature or two isn’t quite how he remembered it- and trust him, he remembered- but her soul remained pure, unfiltered, unchanging.  She was always his.
“The last we spoke, you had quite the unshakable opinion about a society that breeds and boasts of it’s powerful children to protect them, only to leave them in neglect…” He trails off, scanning her features in the search of any flash of recognition.  If anything, she’s only more confused.  Her brows are furrowed and her lips have formed a pout which he deemed as her sign of defeat in trying to understand him.  “Something about creating the things you fear.  But it was quite some time ago, and I see you’ve so clearly changed your mind” He raises a hand, palm up as he lazily gestures to her.
(y/n’s) posture straightens up, partially out of her defensive nature, but mostly due to the seriousness in his tone.  Logic tells her she shouldn’t be taking anything he says as truth, it would be foolish, and in the end probably deadly too.
But that intrigue hits her, ignites a tiny spark in her chest that has her longing to learn more.  The intensity tells her that if he weren’t this curse, that perhaps if he was just a man, she might humor him in the way he was looking for.
If she began the what if game now, she feared she’d find herself justifying her continuation of this conversation.
“You must have me confused, then” 
Her words are clear and concise without being loud.
“I haven’t confused you in any century before this one and I would never confuse you in the ones to come after,” 
She tries to hide the surprise in her expression, but she knows she fails.  Especially when Sukuna’s amusement in her reaction seems more genuine than before.  He takes a step into the room, just a single one.
“Your brat friend is fine.  He fell asleep.  We have a sort of… deal,” 
There is some comfort in his words, even if (y/n) is unsure about her trust in him, the words still hit her chest and her shoulders slowly begin to untense.  She doesn’t question him, doesn’t make any comment at all.  She supposes he’ll fill the silence eventually, and her assumption is correct.
“You and I have known each other for quite some time,” He continues.  “Long ago, you made a Binding Vow to me.  A vow that allowed your mortal body to be reborn in every lifetime, so that I may find you” 
Her brows furrow, hardly believing this to be the truth.  She’s supposed to believe a Binding Vow could hold the power to reincarnate her? A quiet scoff blows past her lips.
“Incredible,” She murmurs, but it’s clear her astonishment isn’t enthusiastic.  It’s cynical.  “What sort of entertainment do you really gain from this?” 
She asks, crossing her arms over her chest as she dares a few steps forward.  She’s not all that close to him, but at the end of the day it didn’t matter her distance from Sukuna, the radius of his danger could stretch for miles.
“You never believe me right away” He muses, his hands folding behind his back as he regards her curiously.  It makes her feel like a specimen, like a wild animal he’s just stumbled upon, but she doesn’t shrink under the intensity of his gaze.
“Would you?”
It’s not the response he’s expecting, but his eyes light up with a flicker of excitement.
“Of course not,” He answers, his lips beginning to curl into a smile.  It should send a chill down her spine, but she takes another step forward and tilts her chin up higher.  So foolish, he thinks with an air of loveliness wrapped around it, don’t you see that the mere fact I let you live for behaving like this must mean there’s some truth in my words? Instead, he tells her “Yet, you fall every time”
“I fall for the trick?” She snaps, but her intrigue remains.
“You fall for me” He clarifies, a finality in his tone that has her shutting up, albeit momentarily.
No, she must’ve been right, it was all some grand trick.  Some ridiculous, theatrical ploy he’d come up with just to deceive her.  She’s not sure of the why yet- if he wanted to kill her, couldn’t he have done it already? If he wanted to torture her, couldn’t he have chained her up by now? She’s skeptical, but she would hate to admit that some part of her, deep, deep down, considers that he may not be lying to her.
Of course he must be lying, so she tries to shove that idea down.
“And why would I do such a thing like that?” She asks, her tone bored, but the wideness in her eyes as she awaited his answer didn’t go unnoticed.  
Sukuna unfolded his hands in order to push them into the pockets of Yuji’s pants.  His grievance in wearing a sorcerer’s uniform was obvious in the unsavory curl in his lips as he briefly glanced down at himself, but his attention returned to her just as quickly.
“A Binding Vow is a double sided contract,” He reminds her.  “You entered it willingly,” He tilts his head at her as he watches her process this information, before he tells her the full truth.  “In fact, you were the one who brought the idea to me, sweetheart” 
“Don’t call me that” She mutters out quickly, not thinking twice about the consequences of scolding the King of Curses.
“It’s true,” Sukuna shrugs his shoulders with a lazy drag.  “I almost didn’t agree to it.  But you’ve always been… convincing” 
She’s not sure what he means, because the memories he’s recalling aren’t shared- if they’re real memories at all- and yet, she continues to lay her questions on thick.
“And why wouldn’t I choose to remember all of this then, hm? If I chose to be reborn, over and over, why wouldn’t I have wanted to remember?” She’s challenging him, and Sukuna’s enjoying it, even if it means that right now the distance she puts between them is further than before he’d found her due to her distrust in him.
History has repeated itself for thousands of years, but no event was as perfectly cyclical as she was to him.  Time and time again he would find her, and in every lifetime, she’d been his.
“You wanted to,” He tells her.  “The vow took a bit of a different turn than expected.  See, your soul didn’t simply leap into a pre-existing person with each reincarnate.  You were born again.  Every part of your being, physical and… otherwise, was reborn.  It actually makes it all the more difficult to find you, you know” 
“Seems like a copout” She says, her expression unamused.
“Well go on then, what else do you want to ask me?”
“I have nothing,” She lies.  “Because I’m not entertaining this any further” 
“Fine, then,” To her surprise, Sukuna actually accepts her rejection- if you could call it that.  “I’ll give the brat his body back.  But you’ll know where to find me once you start to remember” 
He leaves without a word, not even a mere wave, and it’s not until he’s gone that (y/n) wonders if she should be worried about him roaming the grounds of Jujutsu Tech, but nothing happens.
In fact it’s such a quiet night that the next morning everyone seems well rested and rejuvenated, all in good spirits and ready to take on the day.  Everyone but her.  And she can’t stop her eyes from shifting towards Yuji every thirty seconds, always double checking the slits under his eyes, as if one of these times she’d find them open and focused on her.
She can’t get the image of Sukuna lounging so casually in that training room.  It’s hard when one of her closest friends shares his face, so even when she’s not anxious about seeing that second set of eyes, her heart still skips a beat when Yuji’s eyes catch hers and he smiles politely.
Naturally, that skip in her heart was due to her nerves, and had nothing to do with the contents of her discussion with the curse inside of him.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Sukuna gives (y/n) what he believes to be an abundant amount of time to let their past settle in.  He wants her to process it all properly.  He wants her to come to her senses and realize that there were no ulterior motives in his reveal.
He still makes the occasional crude comment from Yuji’s cheek, but while they’re ever directed at her, she finds her posture straightening and her eyes trained on the skin where he’s materialized, always waiting for him to direct something her way.  He doesn’t.  He hardly even looks at her- when she’s looking, that is.  While inside of his domain and perfectly hidden by Itadori Yuji, Sukuna spends as much of his time staring at her while he can.  Some days, there’s an intensity so strong that Yuji finds himself not-so-subtly staring at her too.  Sukuna doesn’t like this- if he had things his way then no one would lay there eyes on what was his- but letting Yuji sneak glances here and there was a small price to pay in order to make sure the pair remain close enough that Sukuna’s still able to have some sense of nearness to her.
Due to this silent period on his part, (y/n) decides against bringing Gojo’s attention to the situation.  While she knows it hasn’t just disappeared, because she just knows that it will be brought up again, she hopes that enough time passes that she can learn to brush it off as nonsense spewed from a bored curse.
It nags at her, despite her best efforts, she never allows herself to forget it completely.  It crosses her mind every day, if not every minute she spends with Yuji.  The way he stood, the way he spoke, it would play on a loop in her mind until she was sure it would drive her to the point of madness.  It very well could have, already.
And one night, she decides to take the reins into her own hands, and she approaches it first.
After watching a partial movie in the common room, Megumi had long gone to bed and Nobara had crashed on a makeshift pile of blankets on the floor, (y/n) feels an anxiousness settle over her when she hears Yuji begin to snore and he, too, was just as knocked out as the rest of her friends.
She debates on it for a moment, her eyes sliding between the flickering television and the resting boy sitting beside her on the couch.  Her index finger taps at an unkept pace against her knee, and she lets as many minutes pass as she could, just to be sure Yuji truly was asleep.
Then she turned her head fully, eyes focused on that mark under his face where Sukuna’s eyes were peacefully shut.  Not sure of the inner workings on how the whole vessel thing worked, her only choice was to take a shot in the dark and hope it worked.
“I was going to tell Gojo about what you said, you know” 
Her whisper is so soft, her voice cracks and gives on certain syllables.  Even if he could hear her from in there, she wonders if he could have heard something so silently spoken.
Slowly, the eye opens, and it blinks a few times before it slides towards her.  She wonders if he sleeps in there, or if every introduction light when he leaves his domain requires an adjustment.
And then, Yuij’s stirs, and (y/n) freezes up, watching as he twitches before his eyes begin to blink awake, as well.  Fear spikes in her chest at the thought of getting caught talking to the curse inside of him while he slept.
But when his eyes fully open and an array of markings begin to paint across his features, she realizes it’s not Yuji.  It’s just his body.  There’s a certain guilt that follows her relief from this.  In no situation should she feel pleased to see Sukuna over Yuji.
“Am I supposed to be threatened by this?” He asks slowly, in a low tone of voice that she can’t decide the cause of.  Was he trying to be considerate of the sleeping sorcerer on the ground? Or was he just trying to be as menacing and mysterious as always? 
He doesn’t lift his head from where Yuji had been dozed off against the couch cushion, neck craned at an angle that couldn’t be comfortable to sleep in for the entire night, but Sukuna’s not exactly looking out for the brat’s comfort.  He could use a good crick in the neck or two.
“I don’t think there’s anything I could do to threaten you,” (y/n) replies honestly, the hush in her voice making her sound softer than she would’ve liked.  She doesn’t need him thinking she’s warming up to being in his presence, after all.  “But… would you kill me if I was?” 
“What do you think?” 
It comes out fast enough to be taken harshly, like he holds a disbelief in how idiotic she could be, but their conversation began with a whisper and it seems to be carried on that way.  A lump forms in (y/n’s) throat as she holds eye contact with the darkened vermillion ones that stare back at hers.
The deep feeling she’d buried, the one that told her maybe she trusted him whether she liked it or not, sparked and caught light, burned just a little bit brighter, caused just enough smoke for her to give some of her attention to.
If he truly wanted to kill her, he had millions of chances to do so before now.  So she concludes that his goal wasn’t to do so.  Of course, this begs the question,
“What is it that you want, Sukuna?” 
She’s much calmer than the last time they spoke, he notices.  She’s nervous, but not tense, and not nearly as defensive.  He’s not naive, he doesn’t mistake this for trust, but he is pleased in her change in attitude.
An idle smile curls on his lips as his fixed gaze softens with familiarity.
Just like every time before now, she always, eventually, came around to him.  It was like her curiosity couldn’t keep her away, and her heart always won over her mind.
“I believe you already know the answer to that” He refrains from letting an old pet name fall from his tongue, a courtesy to her that he allows this once, just so she wouldn’t flee from her seat next to him.
She hums, letting the sort-of-answer sit on her mind for a moment.  An unknown feeling gnaws at her- or at least, a feeling she doesn’t want to put a name to.
“Why?” The word ghosts off of her lips, and even with the worried knot between her brows her eyes stay set on his.  “Why does it have to be me?” 
“You’re looking at it all wrong,” Sukuna muses, his lower set of eyes rolling just slightly before he can help it.  “It doesn’t have to be you- it just is.  It’s always been you, and it always will be” 
“Because of the Binding Vow?” She questions, and he blinks at her, processing what she meant, before his brows furrow just a little bit, and he shakes his head.
“The only clause to our vow is that you will always be reborn,” His tongue runs over his teeth as he tries to bite back the amusement he feels when realization dawns on her.  “Everything after that comes from your own free will, sweetheart” 
“Don’t call me that” She snaps at him, but it’s a mumble, hardly audible, hardly threatening.  Sukuna purses his lips.
“Like I said, you were the one who came up with the contract,” He huffs.  “I would’ve never agreed to such a thing if you weren’t so persistent” 
She perks up at that little comment, and suddenly turns in her seat, tucking her legs underneath her as she faces him.  Sukuna’s barely moved at all, still slouched into the cushion in the position Yuji had fallen asleep in.  His eyes follow her movements as she sets her elbow on the top of the furniture so she could prop her head in her hand.  Her brows are drawn together again as she studies him.
“Then why tell me about it?” She blurts the question out.
“Because I’m the one burdened with the centuries of memories” He replies without missing a beat, voice dry and expression unreadable.  He’s keeping it as neutral as possible, knowing her calculating eyes would see right through any sudden change, no matter how small.
“And you are?” She asks, and then in a softer voice, finishes the thought, “Burdened?” 
Sukuna blinks, slowly, before letting his gaze wander the soft and curious look on her face.  He fights the urge to smile at the loveliness of it all- the twitch in her nose, the small pout in her lip- he’s the King of Curses and there should be no force on this earth that weakens him the way her gentle gaze focused on him does.  Even after all this time, she is his achilles heel, she is his greatest burden, and she is the only thing he could ever truly, completely, want.
“Yes,” His answer is quiet, and (y/n) lifts her head as she stares at him with her confusion.  “There exists no stronger shackles a being could trap me with the way you have,”
Her face falls, and she’s silent for a long moment.  With a dry throat and a mind too busy and overcrowded with thoughts, she wasn’t sure what she was supposed to say.  But that gnawing feeling was starting to make her chest ache, and the pounding of her heart in her ribcage was relentless.
“There’s no greater curse I could bear” 
She hates the way he says these things so casually, without a strain in his expression or voice.  She wonders if it’s because he’s done it so many times that it’s lost it’s value.  Perhaps to him, this was just a part of the burden that was her existence, explaining these things to her was simply a chore that needed to be completed.  She swallows a few times to ease the dryness of her throat.
“Does it get old?” 
Sukuna smiles.  It should trouble her- he knows that it unsettles Yuji- but if she feels unease it’s not shown.
“A thousand years of anything gets old,” He sighs, rolling his head over the cushion to stare up at the blank ceiling.  “And I’d hate to admit the things that never get old” 
It’s stupid.  It’s ridiculous and foolish and naive, but she smiles.
“What doesn’t get old?” She asks, her curiosity blending with a sick sense of delight as she wonders just how many sides of Sukuna there really are.
He angles his head towards her again, narrowing his gaze as his lips twisted into a small smirk.  It felt like his technique had the ability to see right through her- she wondered if he was really strong enough to do that.
“Last time we spoke, you said you wouldn’t entertain this,” He reminds her.  “What’s changed?” 
“Nothing,” She murmurs back without a moment of hesitation.  
It’s the truth, and she has no reason to falsify an answer for him.  Just as he had no reason to be so forward about their past.  Even if she hadn’t gathered much, this conversation was much different from their last, and she felt as though she would walk away with this one overwhelmed by all of this new information.  Her trust in him is precarious, and could easily be destroyed by one wrong move, but right now, she can’t see what reason she has not to take him at his word.  It’s not as if he’s asking for anything in return, it’s not as if she won’t return to her dorm for the night and likely not see or speak to him again for some time.  So, she supposed, what was the harm in entertaining the idea just a little?
“Nothing at all” She finishes the thought softly, before turning her attention back to the forgotten movie still playing across the room.  It was nearing the end, and she’d missed enough of it to barely understand what was happening on screen now, but she didn’t have any more questions for the King of Curses tonight, and he kept quiet as she watched the movie.
To her surprise, Sukuna did sit and watch the movie.  She’s not sure how much of it he actually listened or paid attention to, but it was clear that he had not given Yuji his body back, and was still very much alert and in control.
(y/n) doesn’t return to her dorm room until she finally sees Yuji asleep next to her, his face bare of any markings, and the extra eyelids under his eyes closed just as peaceful as his own.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
In the meantime, (y/n) didn’t feel so anxious around Yuji anymore, which they were both grateful for.  Yuji wasn’t sure why the sudden chance came about, but he certainly wouldn’t complain.  He was just glad to have his friend acting her usual self again.
He had no idea of the few chats she’d shared with the curse he hosted.  While Sukuna wasn’t necessarily hiding his interest in her, he wasn’t forthright with the brat either.  He didn’t need the kid interfering with what he was building on here.  It was slow moving like a trail of molasses but Sukuna was more patient than most people gave him credit for.  He could let a lot of things go.
Not this, however.
All of Gojo’s students had been sent on a seemingly standard assignment.  Odd, unexplainable disappearances had been happening in a clearing in the middle of the woods, enough so to alert jujutsu society and send a few sorcerers to the scene to investigate.
Upon arrival, there was an undeniable heaviness in the air.  The field that the group of four found themselves in didn’t stretch for miles, but it was no small clearing.  It was a strange place for a curse to settle in and lure non-sorcerers towards.  Curses often tucked themselves into hidden spots, within abandoned buildings or deep in the thick brush of the woods.  Not a clearing of grass and wild daisies.
The entire situation was odd, it didn’t sit right in anyone’s mind as they went their separate ways to scour the area for any insight on what was happening here.  It didn’t take long for something to turn up.
A curse that had to have been a First Grade, with a large, sharp toothed grin and gouged out eyes, materialized in the clearing’s center, and as soon as it clocked this evening’s prey as jujutsu sorcerers, it seemed to go into a mad state.  (y/n’s) not sure if it possesses great speed or the ability to teleport when it’s suddenly before her.  All she’s able to do in that amount of time is lift her weapon into an offensive position, she’s not even given the time to drive it forward in an attack before suddenly, she’s no longer on the ground.
She comes to mid air, just before she hits the ground and rolls a few times before her senses kick in and her hands brace themselves against the ground.  She can faintly hear her friends calling for her in their shock, but it’s distant.  Her head is spinning too fast for her to lift it to see just how far the curse had thrown her.
A few coughs erupt from her throat before she even tells her body to do so, brought on by the hit to her chest once she’s lifted herself up enough to relieve the pressure from the ground.  Her arms are trembling from the adrenaline and a few drops of blood splatter from her mouth, but once she’s sat up enough, she drags the sleeve of her uniform over her mouth to dry the blood, and she finally gets a good look at where she is.
She’s been thrown clear out of the field, and she considers herself lucky that her body hadn’t been halted by a tree, and instead tumbled to the ground.  Being thrown directly into one of the large oaks she’s surrounded by could’ve been fatal if she’d hit it just right, or at the very least she could’ve broken her ankle.  With a rushed assessment she decides nothing feels broken, and therefore she can grab her weapon and- 
Her weapon is nowhere near her.  She scrambles to her feet, her breaths heavy and irregular as she searches around the grass, looking for the large blade she’d had in her hands less than a minute ago.  
It had only been a minute, right? She hadn’t blacked out, had she?
Realizing there was no use wasting her time looking for a weapon now, she pushes herself to break into a sprint back towards the clearing.  Her friends are blurry images moving about, trying to attack the larger blurry images that fends off their attacks with little struggle.  She concludes this when she begins to hear the yelps and grunts of her fellow sorcerers, and yet the curse doesn’t seem to struggle at all.
Just when her vision begins to clear and she’s preparing herself to rejoin the fight with only her cursed technique and her fists, she sees the curse grab Megumi by the leg, and soon after he’s getting thrown into the air just as she did.  His name is torn from her raw throat in an instant- but Megumi is more prepared to be airborne than she was, drawing his hands together to summon Nue to catch him.
Relief is short lived, and soon Megumi finds himself instructing Nue to catch Nobara and Yuji when shortly after, they’re being thrown as well.  Nue’s a quick shikigami, but it’s only strong enough to carry one person at a time before it’s energy starts to deplete, and the curse keeps at it’s movements, chuckling the three of them into the air before they can land an attack on them on their decline.  Yuji tries, using Black Flash on his descent in the hopes of striking it where it hurts, but the curse manages to catch him in a tight fist before chucking him again.
(y/n’s) still keeping an eye out for her weapon when she grows nearer to the fight, seeing as no one else’s techniques have caused any real damage yet, her cursed tool of a sword could be quite handy right about now.
She was hoping that with it’s attention focused on the other three, she could attack it from behind, and drive it more towards the clearing again.  With how much movement and tossing it had done, it had driven them all deeper into the woods, which made it harder to land attacks, but had been good coverage for (y/n) to sneak up in her approach.
To her disadvantage, she hadn’t expected there to be a pair of large eyes on the back of it’s head.  In the dark of the night she hadn’t noticed them until they’d opened and landed on her instantaneously.  It must’ve sensed her sneaking around behind it.
She’s quicker in her movements this time, dodging it’s large hand before it could grab onto her, but it outsmarts her and snatches her up in the other.  A yelp sounds from her when it squeezes harder than the last time, her air supply cut off just as she’d tried to take in a large breath, making her sputter and cough as it raised her in the air again.  A sense of dread and failure washes over her when she realizes it’s going to throw her again.  Whatever this curse’s deal was, it had a thing for throwing it’s victims around to torture them.
And torture it was- as this time when she’s launched into the air, it’s a clear throw over the trees.  It’s harder than before, and faster.  The cool air cuts over her face in sharp streams, bringing tears to her eyes before she could comprehend what would come of her fall.  She could brace herself, but as she gets a watery glance at what’s below, she knows that shielding her face would provide no comfort to her fall.
Just past the cluster of oak trees is a steep overhang.  Rock and the roots of old trees jutting out some thirty feet to the ground.  
This is why her fall felt so long.  A sharp gasp escapes her, and when her inhale gets caught in her throat, she wonders if this is the last breath she’ll ever take.
When she shuts her eyes to protect them from the harsh wind, a wetness spreads down her cheeks.  In a last ditch effort at self preservation, her arms brace over her face, and she buries herself into them, not wanting to see the last thing that would break her fall.  Hopefully she wouldn’t feel it, either.
Her jaw clenched tightly as her heart began to race faster, expecting the crash to come soon.
The sensation isn’t as expected.  There is no slam against stone or cold ground that knocks the wind out of her.  Instead something’s wrapped around her middle, and out of worry that the curse had grabbed her in order to throw her again, she withdraws her head from her arms in a jolt.
It’s not the curse that’s caught her mid-fall.
It’s Sukuna.
With one arm wrapped around her back and the other around her shoulders, his large hand braces the back of her head to keep her tucked close.  They’re still falling, but the sensation feels different like this.  It’s almost as if he’s carrying her to the ground, his posture as natural as it would be if he were standing there now.
Wide, watery eyes blink up at him in astonishment when she fully registers what was happening.
“You’re alright, I’ve got you, sweetheart” 
If it weren’t for the rawness in her throat, she might’ve scolded him for the pet name, but her voice was taken away from her as soon as she’d been heaved into the sky a second time.
She doesn’t even process the way she’s gripping onto him until he lands on the ground, holding her up just a moment longer before carefully setting her on her feet.  Her hands are holding onto the sleeves of Yuji’s uniform in fists so tight her knuckles are white, and her hands are trembling.
The others are nowhere in sight, or at least, she can’t see them right now.  Her mind is so shaken up she doesn’t actually look.  Her eyes don’t tear away from the stunning red of Sukuna’s once.  She doesn’t even blink- hence the continued downpour of tears.  From the wind and her acceptance of a brutal death, her emotions were slowly catching up to reality.
Her chest is heaving but there’s no relief in feeling like she’s caught her breath.  Her heart is pounding so hard that it makes her ribs ache, but that very well could be the bruising from her previous fall setting in.  Her mouth moves but it takes a few tries for any real words to come out, and when her voice does come back to her, she doesn’t say much.
“S- Sukuna-” 
He silences her before she could even try to say something else.  Prying her hands off of his arms and placing them at her sides, even though there’s still tremors in her muscles.
“I only have a minute,” He tells her, in a gravely serious tone that she’s never heard from him before.  She blinks her wide eyes, leftover tears getting stuck on her lashes.  “It’s been handled” 
He doesn’t say anything else, but he doesn’t get the chance to before his posture begins to weaken, followed by his eyelids twitching and the marks beginning to fade away.
Gasping, (y/n) surges forward, grabbing Yuji by the shoulders before he could stumble and fall.  His eyes roll and blink a few times before he feels in control of his body again.  Soon after his posture straightens, and then it’s Yuji who’s looking worriedly down at (y/n).
She’s close, very close.  Her hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life.  He can feel her panting against his chin as her worried eyes scan over his features.
Yuji’s disoriented, like maybe he’s just woken up from a dream, or maybe he’s just woken up inside of a dream, and he’s not exactly sure how to voice this concern.  She makes it harder on him when one of her hands leaves his shoulder in order to reach for his cheek.
It’s so affectionate, the way she reaches for his face and presses her palm against it, that Yuji finds his skin heating up and a blush appearing over his cheeks before he could will himself not to.  She’s never behaved this way with him before.  He could only recall casual touches that occurred during training, or maybe a brush of her fingers when she handed him something, but nothing as intentional as this.  
And she’s certainly never looked at him like that either.  He can’t place his finger on it, but it makes his stomach churn to meet her eyes.
“Uh, (y/n)?” He mumbles out her name, and he finds himself doing a quick sweep of her, assessing her for a major injury.  But she’s standing just fine, and he can’t see any blood.  This had to be a head injury, right? 
He asks himself that question once more then the pad of her thumb brushes under his eye.  She faintly traces the incision of the closed eyelid just below his eyelashes.  Yuji holds his breath, but he’s not sure who he’s doing it for.  (y/n), whose eyes are glossing over as she’s gazing at the wrong eyes, which remained closed, or Sukuna, who Yuji was sure she was trying to reach to now.
And then she leans even closer, and the breath he’d been holding is forced out of him from the closing distance between them.  Her hands remain where they are, on his shoulder with an iron grip and against his cheek with the gentleness of a butterfly landing there.
On instinct Yuji finds his eyes darting down to her lips, but he’s positive she’s not going to kiss him- right? She wouldn’t do such a thing on a whim, not like this, not now when they’ve barely completed their assignment.  Not to mention their friends aren’t too far away- where are Nobara and Megumi anyways? Yuji’s thoughts are racing as fast as his heart as he struggles to figure out what to do as she grows nearer.
Before he has to come up with a decision, (y/n) stops, and Yuji swallows the lump in his throat out of relief that she wasn’t leaning in to kiss him.  The ride home would have been so awkward.
“Thank you” She breathes out the words, her thumb stroking over the spot on his cheek one more time before she finally drops her hand, and she pulls away from Yuji completely.
He blinks at her in disbelief, waiting for his heartbeat to calm down, which it does the further she steps away.
“What happened?” He asks, louder than he means to, but when he finally collects his thoughts and processes what just happened, he can’t help but blurt out the question.
The pair begin to make their way back to the clearing, both realizing that the First Grade curse was gone, clearly exorcized with the amount of purple goo coating the surrounding plants and trees.  They don’t discuss it right away, but they both have an inkling on how it was taken care of.
“Sukuna saved my life” 
Yuji wants to ask more questions, but when he turns towards her to do so, he can tell that she’s not ready to talk about it.  Her features had hardened, and she didn’t meet his eyes as they walked.
He knows he’s put off this conversation one too many times already… but once again he finds himself biting his tongue as they catch up with their other friends.
Something tells him that he’ll have to bring it up soon, though.  Because the King of Curses wouldn’t save just anyone’s life twice- much less a sorcerer.  And he has a gut feeling that (y/n) knows more than she’s letting on.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
This time, it’s only a few days since the last assignment when (y/n) crosses paths with Sukuna again.  Well, this time around, he came to her.
She’s just slid her bookmark between the pages she’d decided to pause on tonight when there’s a knock at her door.  With a quiet huff- she was just about to go to sleep after all- but before she can call for her visitor to come in, the door slides open and he’s inviting himself right on.
“Yu-! Sukuna?” 
The initial scolding tone she takes drops as soon as she realizes he’s not who she thought.  Her voice softens around his name in a way that it shouldn’t, but that she can’t help.  She sits up a little further in her bed, brows furrowing as he slides the door shut behind him.
“You can’t just walk in here” 
“I knocked” 
“Okay well… well you have to wait for me to actually invite you in” She mumbles out, only to be met with a scoff and a humorless chuckle.  But when her frown deepens, he sighs.
“Fine, I’ll knock for longer next time” He grunts, before he begins to wander around her room.  He glances over the few things littered on her desk- a picture frame of her and her friends, an open and neglected textbook, a pair of bracelets she’d forgotten to put away- he almost forgets why he’d come in to begin with.
“Um… did you need something?” (y/n) asks after a minute of him wandering around and eyeing all of her things.
“You’re freaking out the brat,” Sukuna says casually, picking up a little porcelain cat on her shelf.  His eyes narrow as he turns the small thing around in his hands, as if trying to decipher it’s purpose.  “He won’t stop asking about you now” 
“What?” (y/n) pushes the covers off her lap, moving to the end of the bed to sit a little closer to him.  It doesn’t matter if she’s quiet, it’s only the two of them in the room, but she feels a sudden need to lower her voice anyways.  “What do you mean he’s freaking out?” 
He turns to her then, the figurine still in his hands.  The tiniest of smiles purses on her lips at how silly a tiny cat looks in his large and tattooed hands.  Despite how easily he could crush it to dust, his hold on it is gentle.
“I just thought that you should be aware, you know, that eventually you’ll have to decide if you want to explain yourself to your friends or not” 
Her stomach twists and turns into dozens of little knots.  The King of Curses was stopping by her room late into the night just for this? She shouldn’t be surprised, because she knew his motives, but still, she blinked at him with wide eyes.
“You haven’t…?” The question trails off as she shakes her head at him, unsure of how to word it just right.
“I don’t like the idea of the brat knowing all of my business,” Sukuna hums, finally setting the cat back down on her shelf.  “You’ve always had a knack for collecting useless things” He comments, and the words are harsh but his tone is nothing but amused.
“So… you think I should talk to Yuji?” She asks, and Sukuna lets his shoulders rise and fall in disinterest.
“If that’s what you want” He says, but it doesn’t feel considerate.  (y/n) frowns.
“Don’t you think he’ll be… upset?” 
“With you?” 
She nods.
“You’ve done nothing wrong.  If anything, the brat would only worry about you.  Seeing as he despises me, and all” 
“You don’t exactly make it easy to feel otherwise” (y/n) mumbles, and her words hang in the air for a few long moments.  She’s not sure if she means the insinuation behind them or if it’s just a coincidence, but she doesn’t try to backtrack to explain herself.
“Yes, well, he certainly cares more for you than he does for me.  Too much so.  Some boundaries might do you some good, you know” 
“Boundaries?”
“Yes, boundaries.  He almost kissed you” 
Her eyes nearly bulge out of her head before her brows furrow and she scoffs in disbelief.
“What? What are you even talking about?” 
Sukuna tucks his hands into his pockets, looking all the more out of place in her room at this hour.
“During your little gratitude session on your last assignment,” He says, his lips curling into a deep frown.  “You got a bit too close and his brat-mind went a bit haywire.  You don’t need to be so affectionate with him, you know.  A plain thank you would have sufficed-” 
“I wasn’t being affectionate with him,” She snaps back, and Sukuna raises a brow at the display.  “I was thanking you, asshole.  You pretty much saved my life?” She says it like she’s trying to jog his memory.  “I wasn’t trying to make a move on Yuji, and I’m sure he knew that too.  I don’t control his thoughts, he can think whatever he wants, doesn’t mean it’s happening” 
Sukuna steps closer to where she sat before bending down to match her height.  She’s still frowning, clearly annoyed with this interaction, but she had yet to ask him to leave, and he has a feeling she won’t.
“So if the brat had plucked up the nerve to make a move, you would’ve pushed him away?” He asks, and he’s smirking, almost as if he wants her to say otherwise.  Her eyes narrow, not understanding what his mind games were getting at this time.
“Politely, yes,” She answers, shaking her head at him.  “Why does this matter? Last I checked, in this lifetime, I’m not some cowering wife for you to boss around” 
Sukuna laughs at that, genuinely laughs.  He stands back up to his full height and throws his head back and cackles so loud that (y/n) can only pray Nobara doesn’t wake up from next door.  She might not need to whisper to speak with him, but the walls weren’t exactly soundproof either.
“Sweetheart, you’ve never been a cowering wife,” He tells her once his laughter died down.  “A wife, perhaps, but never some submissive weak minded mortal” He adds.
“So we have been married?” 
She asks him with such peculiarity, and it makes him chuckle again.  She sounds as though this has been the strangest thing he’s revealed thus far, and he can’t help but find humor in it.
“We have” He answers.
(y/n) shifts her position, pulling her legs towards her chest and staring up at him expectantly, waiting for a continuation that wouldn’t come.  Sukuna merely stares at her with mild confusion.
“Well?” She asks, tilting her head forward.  “Did we get married every time?” 
He smirks.
“I’ve told you that you created a Binding Vow in order to be with me across centuries of eras.  In the grand scheme of things, don’t you think marriage is a little… bleak?” 
(y/n) shrugs a shoulder, resting her arms atop her knees as she gazes back at him curiously.
“It’s bleak in this lifetime,” She murmurs back.  “Not to me, at least” 
Sukuna hums, before shaking his head.
“You never change” 
“Do I really?” She presses again.  “For the last… thousand years… am I really the same?” 
Sukuna ponders for a moment.  This was a common question of hers, and each time, he struggled to answer it.
“You really want to know?” 
She doesn’t say anything, but she pats her hand against the space on the bed next to her.  Sukuna’s gaze shifts to it momentarily, before looking back at her.  After a moment, he takes a seat.
“You are almost completely the same in every lifetime I’ve found you in,” He explains.  “You’re always stubborn, you never make it easy.  But you always… come around,” He turns to her.  “Like now” 
“You think I’m coming around?” She asks, a skeptical look in her eye that makes him smirk.  He leans forward as though the next part he shares is a grave secret.
“You never want to admit it, but you always have a soft spot for me” 
(y/n) raises a brow back at him in defiance.
“I think you’ve got that turned around,” She murmurs.  “I think the King of Curses has a soft spot for me.  And I think he’s making it everyone’s problem” 
He chuckles quietly, his gaze sweeping over the gentle features of her face.
“I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory,” He tells her, raising a hand, and gently pressing the pad of his thumb against the center of her forehead.  The sudden touch makes her freeze at first, but eventually she relaxes as the rest of his fingers lay in her hair.  “I haven’t quite figured it out yet, I don’t know how it is that you’re never able to keep your memories,” He tilts his head as he ponders it for a moment, his eyes focused on where he’s touched her head.  “But I think deep down, you know that you trust me” 
(y/n) doesn’t have a witty comeback for that one.  She’s still reeling from the warmth of his touch, and the weight of his words.  But she feels obligated to say something when his gaze met hers again.
“I never said I believed you in all this, you know” She whispers weakly.
“You don’t believe me?” He murmurs back at her, his voice a low rumble as his hand starts to fall from her head.  He doesn’t remove his touch, he lets the back of his finger trace along her temple, before slowly moving down her jaw.  Sukuna doesn’t seem displeased in her words.  If anything, he seems intrigued by them.  “You know, you almost look the same in every life, too” 
“I do?” She asks, just as his fingers fall still against her cheek.
Sukuna hums, and nods his head.
“The last I saw you, your hair was different,” He tells her.  “It was longer, to about… here,” With his free hand, he gently touches her waist, and the way she tenses doesn’t go unnoticed.  “You would wear it in all sorts of different styles.  Pretty braids and… whatever our servants would desire to do that day,” Her eyes widen at his use of the word servants, but Sukuna glides over it.  “But that was a few hundred years ago, of course.  It would all be outdated now,” He drops his hand from her waist, but the other remains against her cheek, his touch ghosting over it.  “Not that it wouldn’t still be exquisite” 
Her eyes shift between his, trying to decipher the emotion they hold.  She can’t tell if he’s amused or sorrowful.  Was he disappointed that she couldn’t remember?
“This is why I’m the one who doesn’t believe you” He murmurs after a few beats pass.
(y/n’s) brows draw together just slightly, just enough to pinch the skin between them.
“What do you mean?” She asks, her voice betraying her as it shakes just a little.
“Because you look at me like that” He says, nodding at her slightly.
(y/n) blinks, doe eyes resembling the glass of the porcelain cat he’d just been mocking.  Her lips are parted, formed in the smallest of pouts as she gazes up at him, that look unrelenting.
She tilts forward, her gaze flickering over his face leisurely, mapping out the black markings, and all the small details that make him so different from Yuji.  The way he insists on pushing the bangs out of his face, the broader jaw, the sharper canine that she only notices when he laughs or smiles- which is quite rare.  She’s admiring him so openly that Sukuna’s not sure what to do under such heavy surveillance, so he just sits there and allows her to stare.
But eventually, she sighs, and drops her legs from her chest before she crawls across her bed, moving to get under the covers again.  Sukuna remains in his spot at the end, watching her without an expression as she settles into her pillow.
“Does it disturb Yuji’s rest when you take over like this?” She asks quietly as she presses her cheek into the soft comfort of her pillow.
No, the brat’s completely dozed off, that’s why he could take over like this.  It’s what he wants to say, but he doesn’t.
“I’ll be sure it doesn’t” He says as he stands, and walks around the bed, facing the side she’s just moved to.  He crouches down to meet her eye level again, and (y/n) moves a little closer to the edge towards him.
“Okay, good,” She whispers.
She blames her exhaustion when she reaches out to him, the tips of her fingers barely prodding at the dark ink that follows the sharp curve of his jaw.  Her eyes follow it as she traces it down to his chin, almost painfully slow.  It takes every ounce of restraint for him not to lean into the touch.
“I don’t know what you expect me to do, Sukuna,” She murmurs, her fingers lingering on his chin, her eyes slowly meeting his.  “I… I can’t…” 
She can’t even say the words.  She hardly wants to be thinking about them.  But Sukuna knows her better than anyone who’s ever walked this earth, and he nods back at her in understanding before she could try to finish the thought.
“I’ve never expected anything of you,” He murmurs, before reaching up to pull her hand from his face, gently closing his fingers around her own as he moves it away.  “You have been the greatest love of my life whether you’re able to remember or not,” He tells her, and she listens to him with her full attention.  “And whether you believe me or not, you still will be,”
There’s the smallest of squeezes to her hand with his words, and a lump begins to build up in her throat.
“You can ask more questions another time, alright? You should get some sleep, sweetheart” 
She gives him a faint nod, her eyes already feeling too heavy to keep open when she feels her blanket being dragged over her shoulders.  Distantly, her mind registers that the King of Curses is tucking her into bed, but she’s too tired now to comment on it.
There’s another squeeze to her fingers, followed by a hesitation, and then the soft, unmistakable pair to two lips pressing against her knuckles.  It’s not a lingering kiss, and it’s featherlight, over as soon as it began, and again, (y/n) keeps her eyes shut and doesn’t say anything.
Sukuna lays her hand down against her blanket with the gentleness of maneuvering a newborn.  She hears him walking away towards her door.
“Goodnight, Sukuna” 
It’s the softest call, but it’s enough to make him pause at the door and glance back at her.  She still can’t look at him- she’s afraid she’ll burst into tears if she does, although she can’t quite explain the heavy emotion that’s bringing the tears to her eyes to begin with.
“Goodnight, my love” 
It’s murmured so quickly before he’s hastily exiting her room that she could’ve missed it altogether, but she doesn’t.  Her hand curls into her sheets as she pulls it close to her chest as she lets tonight’s conversation sink into her mind.
The truth was, she did trust him.  She did believe him.  And she was pretty sure this was the case for the entire time she’s known him.  She’s pretty sure this was unavoidable.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
Everything’s blurry when she first comes to.
And everything hurts.
She tries to move, but it only results in a strangled whine being pulled from her throat as soon as she tries.
She’s on the ground.  It’s covered in rubble.  There’s glass pricking her arms- or maybe the gravel was just that sharp.  There’s a warmth pooling under the side she’s laying on.  Likely blood.
Another groan when she at least tries to get on her back in order to assess the bleeding wound on her left side, but just as she’s about to roll her body weight, she catches something in her vision.
Yuji?
He’s slumped over against a wall, and he looks no better than she feels.  Covered in bruises and blood that may or may not be his own- whatever went down was ugly.
She blinks a few times to focus her vision a little better.  She tries to call for him but her throat is raw and all that comes out is another whine.  Either way, he’s clearly passed out and wouldn’t have responded.  The fight must’ve taken everything out of him.
Oh, the fight, it slowly starts coming back to her in flashing images.  That Blood Manipulation Guy.  He was rough.  She’s not sure how they got out of it alive- she’s not sure how they got to this point at all.  Her mind’s still foggy and the only thing that’s easy to focus on is the shooting pains in her body.
That is, until there’s the sound of clicking heels and hushed, feminine voices.  (y/n) hadn’t even realized her eyes had slipped shut again until those two appeared, and she peeks her eyes open to see two girls whispering between themselves as they crouch before Yuji’s body.
They look harmless enough, no older than her, and not to mention they look anxious.  So nothing about her blurry assumptions about them triggered any warning flags.
That was, until they pulled out a bag of fingers.  Unmistakable fingers.
She needs to get up now and she knows it.  She pleads with her body to move, wishing the throbbing hot pain in her left leg would disappear just long enough for her to get to Yuji, to stop these girls from what they’re about to do.
It’s unclear how much time lapses before she notices a third figure at Yuji’s body.  A curse.  And he seems to have a few fingers of his own, too.
No, her voice cries, but it’s only in her head.  You can’t do that.
She’s never felt so weak, her fingers barely twitching against the concrete when she’s trying to tell her body to get up.  She’s sure that means none of the rest of her limbs are moving.  She’s trapped there.
Her heart is pounding, her breaths are labored, dread consumes her so completely she’d throw up if there was anything left in her stomach.
It’s tough to count just how many fingers are shoved down Yuji’s throat before the curse is clamping his large hand over his mouth and forcing his head back in order to make the unconscious boy swallow every last one.  With tears in her eyes she knows it’s more than what’s safe, and there’s a turmoil in her gut as she doesn’t know how to feel about what comes next.
With her heart pounding in her ears she can’t tell what exactly the fighting amongst the curse users and the curse himself was about, but suddenly only the cycloptic curse remains standing over Yuji’s body.  He’s grunting and growling, still pushing the boy’s head back.  (y/n) wonders if he’s swallowed all those fingers by now.
These three were idiots.  But they were idiots stronger than her, and even if she’d had the strength to stop them, it would’ve been futile.
However, now, they hardly made her list of things to be afraid of in Shibuya.
The blood that’s pooled under Yuji’s body startles her- when did that get there? But after blinking a few times to clear her sight and focus just a fraction of a bit better, she realizes it’s not human blood at all, but that awful purple essence that leaves a stench behind.
“I’ll give you one second,” Comes the familiar voice that doesn’t belong to the body it erupts from.  “Move” 
In a flash, the small crowd around him is a good ten feet back.  (y/n) could almost laugh if her throat wasn’t bloodied raw.  They chose to wake him up with all those fingers, and now they’re visibly afraid of what they summoned themselves? They truly had no idea what they were in for now.
It only takes one glance towards her before Sukuna’s suddenly before her beaten form, crouching down to assess the damages.
“Now, which one of these insolent freaks did this to you?” He asks, tilting his head as his Reverse Cursed Technique took effect over her wounds with haste.  “I’ll start there” 
“N-none of them,” She stammers out, even though it’s the truth.
For the first time, she considers that she should be afraid of Sukuna.  The other three are still trembling even from their distance, barely letting themselves breathe in his presence.
All she’s ever felt towards Sukuna is irritation, perhaps mild vexation, but mostly he just confused her.  But now, she can feel the abundant amount of cursed energy wafting off of him, and despite his history in sparing her life and taking an interest in her, she briefly wonders if this is the moment he changes his mind.
The thought passes in a matter of seconds, when a pair of hands are gently aiding her in sitting upright.  Even with his technique healing her wounds, there are still aches and pains that make her wince.  Shards of glass falling from her skin as the healing tissue forces them out, bruises that still sting when she moves too quickly before their nasty colors disappear completely.
And Sukuna regards her with an expression she’s never seen before, but it makes her heart lurch in her chest.  It’s concern.  His brows are knotted, and his eyes are scanning over her repeatedly to make sure no injury was left on her body.  This was followed by sizable hands mapping over her carefully just to double check.
She should be afraid, but she’s not.  
In fact, as soon as those vermillion eyes return to hers, all she can feel is relief.
And she doesn’t think twice before she’s darting forward on achy knees, her arms wrapping around his neck and the rest of her body colliding into his so harsh it knocks the wind out of her for a moment, but she doesn’t mind panting to catch her breath again.  She embraces Sukuna as tightly as she can, as though he’s the only savior she’s ever known, an angel painted in pure white rather than the corrupted being he truly was.
Sukuna has half a mind to grab her by the neck and remove her from him with a snarl about how her injuries were still healing, but instead he wraps an arm around her, his hand smoothing over the tattered back of her uniform.
She could only imagine what the three at the end of the corridor were thinking, watching the King of Curses embrace such a weak sorcerer.
“You understand now, don’t you sweetheart?” He asks her quietly, and she manages a small nod against his chest, before her hands tighten into fists at the red hood that lies between his shoulder blades.  “It’s been a rough night, hasn’t it?” He muses, and when (y/n) doesn’t give him a response this time, he uses his free hand to pry her face away from his shirt, hooking her chin under his finger so that she’d meet his eyes.
Rough night didn’t even begin to cover what she’d been put through, what was she supposed to say? 
“It’s alright now, my love, I’m here,” 
Those words from him shouldn’t bring her the amount of comfort that they do.  The tears in her eyes begin to drip down her cheeks.  Sukuna’s smiling as he brushes them away, and despite her better judgment, she leans into the touch, seeking out even more comfort.  He chuckles at the sight, but humors her as he cups the side of her face in his palm, cradling her head with the gentleness of holding a flower by it’s petals.
She won’t admit it, not now anyways, but she knows deep down that there is no force on this earth greater than the swell of love in her chest right now.  It’s something she’s not sure should ever be voiced, but she has a feeling that Sukuna will find a way to draw it out of her anyways.  Just as he’s made her trust him, just as he’s made her confide in him, he’s bound to find a way into drawing the confession out of her as well.
Perhaps it’s her own fault, too.  Hiding the way a part of her believed everything he’s ever said to her, hiding the way it made her feel to know that she was so loved by a force so strong and unstoppable that he’d scour the earth after every lifetime in order to find her again.
I think the feelings you have for me in every beginning come from your soul’s memory, he’d said.  But I think deep down, you know that you trust me.
She stares at him now knowing all of this to be true, and Sukuna can almost see every thought in her dilated eyes, swallowed nearly whole by dark pupils as she clings to him now.
With a brush of his lips to the crown of her head, he makes her a promise that she’ll live through this horrid night yet.
She still holds onto him when he stands, and he lifts her up with ease, cradling her to his chest like she was merely a small and frightened child.  The only unease she felt now was knowing what fates were in store for the three at the end of the hall, who Sukuna had set his sights on first.
“Now, let’s take this one on together, sweetheart, shall we?” 
Her own fate was still unknown to her, but sealed in place long ago.
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
[ cause i love to love to love to love you // i hate to hate to hate to hate you ]
✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧
xoxo ~ jordie
a/n: thinkin about writing a snippet of their past live(s) or something. i wanted to add something like that to this fic but i wanted the reader to feel unsure if they really could trust him soooo it went a diff route. idk don't hold me to it. i'm just a girl.
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werecreature-addicted · 1 year ago
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Okay but Siren boyfriend who consensually hypnotizes you to have his way when your being a brat…
Love this blog, My Girlfriend showed it to me
hehehe I'm glad you enjoy it :3
Siren lover who sings so sweetly. mostly just for you to enjoy the sound of his voice, maybe to help you sleep if you've been having a rough night. But sometimes... He sings to make you do things for him.
you feel... foggy when he starts singing. almost like an out of body experience. watching yourself move forward as he commands it. Like your body is just a vessel to help manifest his pleasure. nothing more.
It's nice. being able to let your mind float off while he fucks you, uses your body and mind like a plaything. All it takes is a song and you'll cum so hard you see stars.
If you try to tease him or act out- a simple melody has you on your knees chocking on his tentacle like dick as he pumps his cum down your throat.
If you really want to play with him invest in a gag.
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numberonetrashwitch · 1 year ago
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Some observations about Baldurs Gate 3 that hit too close to home.
After another few runs i will probably just make an in-Depth Character Analysis for every character simply because they are good reflections of actual trauma-manifestations and how abuse can manifest in people. They are also so well written that it serves a narrative purpose to explore all the material that is out there about them. I am also personally cursed with actual medically-relevant levels of Empathy and Hyperfixation; so writing this helps me put a pin in it and move on.
But so far here are my highlights
(SPOILERS and obviously content warning bc these are deep)
before you ask; i have almost 300h in this game.
You have to convince Shadowheart to eat the Noblestalk. She actually stells you she rather get her memories back from Shar but when you hit the persuasion or intimidation (what the fuck) check to get her to eat it she'll tell you about her childhood friend. Not her name, not her parents but her best firend. Possibly because she has had a closer bond to that person after being abducted and indoctrinated. With her believing herself to be an orphan, she would've looked elsewhere for comfort and sought out her own family, this is why she falls hard and heavy for Shar and builds the backbone of her indoctrination. She is literally ripped out of her home & given a new identity to server her from all she has known. Religious indoctrination, Gaslighting, Abduction, being forced to let go of your personality are her main themes.
There is a scene out there floating around in which you see Astarions pespective of the night when he bites Tav for the first time, in his meditations he is confronted with the rules Cazador put on him, including that he can't eat intelligent creatures, can't be away from Cazador unless allowed to, has to obey every command and that they are should know that they are property. Which in turn means that Astarion literally didn't just have any autonomy, he was objectified (and not just through seductive/sexual measures) and that is really the crux to understanding why he doesn't believe in kindness, but rather shows self-serving behavior in most cases. Since we know that Astarion was extremely young for an elf before he died and became immortal (literally stopping the aging /maturing process) it is also very telling that Cazador constantly calls him brat, boy or other very juvanile names, refering to them as a family... well it is also the story of a very controlling parent. Themes of (Bodily) autonomy, infantilization ( & puer aeternus, forever-child), slavery, depersonalisation, corruption of life and torture to break someone.
Gale isn't just a guy hung up on his Ex, but also a victim of abuse. In this case a power imbalance none of us can fathom; She is described as being a jealous goddess and rules over the domain of mysteries and magic. So with Gale being a Wizard, she is literally his boss. He admits that he was foolish enough to aspire to be an equal to her, but she is so jealous that she tells him he can't really be worthy as long as he takes breath. She could just take his powers away and be done with it, that would be more than enough punishment for a guy who literally made Mystra and her domain his life's purpose, but she rather makes him do it himself. Add to that, that she literally only tells him this after years of self-isolation (after he put down so many wards that he could've blown up a whole army as he says if you click the right dialogue) to really fuck him up well. He also talks about death pretty much constantly, not surprising giving your situation, but he will tell you that he will kill himself at several points in the game, for instance after he comes clear about his nethrese orb. Themes of romantic abuse, power-imbalance, toxic work enviorment, self-isolating behavior, suicidal ideation
Wyll ... well from the looks of it he is the most well adjusted of all the companions (my opinion) but he has something that i'd describe as the "eldest daughter"-syndrome, more commonly known as parentification. This pattern usually occurs within single-household parents and is commonly described as a parent looking to their child for emotional or practical support, rather than providing it to their kid. We meet Ulder and see that he talks over Wyll a lot, not listening but expecting him to follow the standard he sets for him. That is also why Wyll repeats his fathers words like gospel (because this is what, in his mind, fullfills the expectations bestowed upon him) and why he loves fairytales / bard tales so much (because they are an ecapist view of the job he set out to do) Ulder literally exiled his teenage son because Wyll did the only thing he could to save an entire city, by sacrificing himself. Thats a lot to expect from a 17 year old - even more so, he doesn't stop with the heroics. He expects himself, as a human who hasn't even reached the age of 30 to hold up to mystical creatures such as Astarion or Karlach, or even Gale who is a accomplished Wizard. Themes of parentification, escapism, self-harming through putting himself in danger, chronic-self-sacrifice
In plain words; Gortash, Karlach's Idol sold her to a Devil. But add to that that she must have been pretty young when she was sold (late teens to early twenties possibly) and being that if you play as a Tiefling, you face a lot of predjudice she was likely forced into that position as well. Starstruck she was, with a juvenile naitivy that Gortash used. Appropriately, as he is the chosen of Bane the god of "tyrannical oppression, terror, and hate, known across Faerûn as the face of pure evil through malevolent despotism" (Source: Forgotten-Realms Wiki / Bane) So she pretty much was raised in a toxic enviorment, which forced her to become a killing-machine, first figuretively, then with the extraction of her heart, literally. Themes of slavery, oppression, misuse of trust, being taken advantage by a more powerful/older(?) person, being drafted.
Jaheira - to be honest, you need to know the lore of the previous baldurs gate games or just listen to her dialouge, ask her all the questions. She is a war-veteran against Bhaal, the good of ritual murder, and has a long history of fighting to achieve some sort of balance of power. She lost her husband and several close people all to this, or any other war, but due to her wisdom and strength people look to her for guidance. Themes of: Survivors Guilt.
Halsin - he is really closed off at first but then just casually hits you with "i was captured in the underdark and spent 3 years chained to a bedroom wall by a pair of drows who used me as they pleased". He is reprimanded by some of his druids for leaving the grove as soon as opportunity struck, just to get back and leave the next day, and if you talk to him about his position in the grove he is actually very forthcomming. He actively holds himself back; indulging in simple hobbies because he knows what lies within his heart. He is afraid of himself and his potential (canonnically he can't control his wildshape, which is very weird for an ARCH-druid) Themes of: impostor syndrome, avoidant-based self-harm, sexual opression, loss of control, emotional regulation.
Lae'zel is a very tragic case, and one that closely resembles the stories of Shadowheart and Karlach. Her entire existence is based upon a matriachial war society allowing her to live if she proves she can be of use and that in a culture which only values brutality, dominance & service. All of that culimating in her finding out that her oh-so-beloved Queen is actually just an imposter, and that everything she has lived for up to that point is merely political propaganda created to make her, and the rest of her entire species, willing pawns in a war that has no longer bearing on their survival alone, but is fought to justify Vlaakith's (the reigning monarchs) personal ambitions. Not only is she forced to reconcile that she is turned into the thing that controlled her kind for hundreds of years, that the only cure she knows of would kill her and then on top of that, that her hopes and dreams were lies and that she is now the Nr 1 enemy of the person she has served with all her being. themes of: oppression, propaganda, casual violence, objectification, child-warfare, eternal warfare
Minthara in short, her story is about being shamed for growing up in the same scenario that Lae'zel grew up in. Lolth, the god of the Lolth-sworn drows is a crazy queen who values scheming & backstabbing so much and is so volatile that you can't know what to expect of your deeds (and i mean it; there were people who were appraised by her for scheming against her, but also those who were killed. It's almost random.) She considers Lolth to be cruel and abandoned her for the Absolute, only to then be used and abused the same way Lae'zel has. Not with promises, but erasing her memory and exposing her perceived weakness. Themes of: casual violence, violent culture, her own ambition colliding with her desire to be safe, being a pawn in a larger game.
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