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ja3yun · 24 days

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Stretch it Out | P.SH

instructor!sunghoon x ballerina!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, cream pie, fingering, mirror sex, pet names (sweatheart, good girl), bad ballet references bc idk what i'm talking about, slight mention of self doubt, not proof read, anything else lmk! wc: 7.4k REQ: ballet intructor!sunghoon helping ballerina!reader stretch and you know where the rest leads to 😼 a/n: hi! i took this request and shuffled it around to make it this! hope this is okay anonnie and i am also so sorry for the late posting of it! i've been working on so much lately and with my little break i didn't do much writing. as always, comments, reblogs, and likes are all welcome!

Applause echoes through the spacious studio as one of your fellow dancers finishes receiving her critique from Mrs. Yang. Her routine was strong, though it seems she needs to work on her turnout - something you hadn't noticed. Perhaps it’s because your nerves are clouding your perception; after all, it will be your turn once she's finished.

The Annual Exhibition is less than two months away, and this will be your first time presenting your completed routine for approval in front of an audience - especially Mrs. Yang, who is more than just an instructor to you; she’s your role model, the person you’ve looked up to throughout your entire ballet journey.

Throughout your high school years, you dedicated your evenings and weekends to ballet school, working tirelessly just for the chance to apply to the National University of Arts and audition in front of Mrs. Yang. For months leading up to this moment, you poured everything into perfecting your pliés and pirouettes. Blisters marred your feet, and exhaustion settled deep in your bones, but none of that mattered. All that mattered was proving yourself worthy.

“Y/N, you’re up,” Mrs. Yang’s voice echoes through the studio like a haunting ghost.

Following her words, you get up and shake off any nerves you have, all too aware of the impact performing badly will have; she could cut you from the exhibition or tell you to scrap the routine entirely, and both of those are not an option for you.

Now, as you step forward to take your place at the centre of the studio, the weight of the moment presses down on you. Every muscle is tense with anticipation, and your heart races as you prepare to dance.

The music begins, and you launch into your routine. At first, the nerves are overwhelming - each movement feels too stiff, too calculated. But as you glide into an arabesque and sweep through a series of pirouettes, something shifts. The familiar rhythm of the dance takes over, and your body begins to move almost on its own, flowing through each step with a grace you didn't know you possessed.

You’re hyper-aware of Mrs. Yang’s presence, of her eyes following your every move, but instead of faltering, you find yourself sinking deeper into the performance. Each développé stretches to its fullest extent, each sauté feels lighter than air. Your breathing steadies and the tension in your muscles transforms into power and control.

As you close the final sequence with a grand jeté, landing with a precise yet delicate touch, you can feel the room holding its breath. You finish in a graceful reverence, chest heaving but mind calm. In this moment, all the hours of hard work, the pain, and the sacrifices feel worth it. You've given everything you have.

But as you glance at Mrs. Yang, it doesn’t look like she’s as satisfied with your performance as you are. Her face is stoic, unreadable, but you’ve been in her class long enough to decipher even the subtlest of her expressions. The slight raise of her right eyebrow sends a wave of dread crashing through you. That’s never a good sign. Her eyes cling to you with the intensity of an unwanted gaze, leaving an uncomfortable knot twisting in your stomach.

She remains quiet for a few minutes, the silence stretching unbearably as though she’s gathering her words. When she finally speaks, her tone is clipped, measured. “It’s good, modern, and meets the criteria.”

You brace yourself, knowing that a ‘but’ is coming.

“But,” she continues, and you wince slightly, “you are not sharp enough. I mean seriously, Y/N, how many times do I need to pull you up for this? Do you not want to improve?”

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes. You don’t want to disappoint her. You gave everything you had in that performance, even though it was just a run-through. But it’s clear that it wasn’t enough.

You bow your head, fighting to keep your voice steady. “Yes, ma’am.”

Mrs. Yang’s irritation sharpens. “Then for the love of God, can you listen to me this time?” She stands up, her movements precise and deliberate as she walks over to you. Her voice is firm, tinged with exasperation. “This exhibition is crucial to your future career. It’s what sets you apart from the others, and yet you seem to lack such basic skills. Even the first years are forming lines better than you.”

Her words slice through you, each one a reminder of the standards you’ve failed to meet. The sting of her tone is almost unbearable, but you know deep down that it comes from a place of faith. She nitpicks because she sees potential in you, potential she wants to help you realise. Each six-month review she’s had with you, she’s made it clear that she believes you can make it far in this world.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Yang,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

“Apologise to yourself, not to me.”

A chorus of snickers drifts from the edge of the room. You glance over to see a group of girls, giggling and holding in laughter, their eyes full of condescension. The sound pierces through your already fragile self-belief, making you shrink into yourself, every snicker chipping away at whatever confidence you had left. Doubt begins to creep in, gnawing at the edges of your resolve. You start questioning whether you’re truly cut out for this, whether all the sacrifices you’ve made have been for nothing.

Before you can spiral too deeply into your own thoughts, Mrs. Yang’s fingers press firmly against your cheek, gently but insistently turning your face to meet hers. “You can’t do this on your own, so I’m assigning you a coach.”

“But you are my coach,” you reply, your voice tinged with confusion.

“Yes, but I don’t have time to give you hours of one-on-one training,” she says, rolling her eyes as if that statement should be obvious. She strides back to her seat, preparing to evaluate the next girl in line. “I have someone in mind. They’re very fluid and pointed in their gestures. They should whip you into shape. I’ll book you an out-of-hours studio for the foreseeable.”

The words hit you like a ton of bricks. You stand there, rooted to the spot, unable to fully process what she’s just said. Sure, she’ll still be your instructor during scheduled lessons, but this means that on top of your gruelling 12-hour days, your endless rehearsals, and the constant pressure to perfect every move, you’ll now have to spend extra time with a new coach.

It’s overwhelming. The thought of adding yet another layer of intensity to your already packed schedule makes your head spin. Your body, already pushed to its limits, protests at the idea of even more hours in the studio. Your heart sinks as the reality of the situation sets in. How will you manage it all? How will you balance the expectations of not one but two demanding mentors?

You want to succeed, to rise to the challenge, but a part of you is terrified that you’ll crumble under the weight of it all. The path ahead, already steep and treacherous, has just become even more daunting.

As Mrs. Yang calls out the name of the next dancer, you force yourself to step aside, the familiar sting of exhaustion settling into your bones.

You can only hope that this new coach makes it worth your while.

_____

The long day of classes has left you drained, every muscle aching with the residue of endless rehearsals and critiques. The last thing you want to do is spend more time in the studio, yet here you are, trudging down the empty hallways of the performance centre with your gym bag slung over your shoulder. The familiar scent of rosin and sweat lingers in the air, and you can't help but feel a pang of dread at the thought of more practice. Your mind buzzes with the memory of Mrs. Yang’s words earlier this week, her disappointment, and the pressure of living up to expectations weighing heavily on your shoulders.

As you push open the door to the studio, your eyes fall on an unfamiliar figure - a boy standing with his back to you. He’s tall, strikingly so, with broad shoulders that taper down into a lean, athletic frame. His dark hair is tousled, falling just above the nape of his neck, and he’s dressed in loose joggers and a fitted white tank top that highlights the sinewy lines of his muscles.

You hesitate in the doorway, momentarily taken aback by his presence. The studio had been booked for you, and the last thing you want is a confrontation with a stranger. You clear your throat softly, hoping to catch his attention. “Um, hello?” you say timidly, your voice barely above a whisper. You hope that a gentle approach will encourage him to leave without any fuss.

The boy whips around at the sound of your voice, and your breath catches in your throat. His face is nothing short of breathtaking; sharp, elegant features softened by a small, almost shy smile. His eyes, a deep, captivating brown, seem to sparkle with quiet intensity as he takes in your appearance. For a moment, you’re struck by how impossibly beautiful he is, like a sculptor’s masterpiece brought to life. He seems too perfect, too unreal, and you feel a strange flutter in your chest as you meet his gaze.

“Hi,” he says, his voice smooth and warm, like a soothing balm to your frayed nerves. He’s still studying you, and you can’t help but take the opportunity to do the same, noting every detail of his flawless face - the way his lips curve slightly upwards, the sharpness of his jawline, the softness of his eyes.

You blink, trying to regain your composure. “I don’t mean to be rude,” you start, hoping to keep your tone polite, “but my teacher booked me this room for a few hours.”

He raises an eyebrow, his small smile never fading. “Four hours to be exact, yeah. She also booked you…me.” The confusion must be evident on your face because he adds, “I’m your coach, Sunghoon.”

“You?” The word slips out before you can stop it, and you instantly regret how incredulous you sound. The last thing you want is to offend him, but the shock of the situation has thrown you off balance.

“Yeah, me. Why?” His tone is still light, but there’s a hint of defensiveness in his voice, and that sends you into a mild panic. You quickly shake your head, trying to salvage the situation.

“No, no, I’m not trying to say anything negative,” you stammer, holding up your hands as if to ward off any misunderstanding. “It’s just… I’ve never seen you around the performance centre, let alone the ballet corridor.”

He nods, seeming to understand your confusion. “That’s because you’ll find me in the sports centre.”

You take a moment to size him up, your mind racing as you try to figure out what sport he could possibly play. He’s too lean to be a rugby player, his legs too slender to be a footballer, but he’s tall enough to be a basketball player. You consider the possibility of him being a rower or maybe a gymnast, but nothing quite fits. He’s a mystery, one that piques your curiosity.

As if reading your thoughts, he interrupts your internal questioning. “I’m a figure skater.”

The revelation surprises you, and you can’t help but blurt out, “Oh.” You pause, trying to piece together why a figure skater would be chosen to coach you in ballet. Placing your bag to the side of the room, you turn to him again. “So why are you coaching me?”

“Why can’t I?” he counters, his tone holding a subtle challenge that makes you feel slightly defensive. “Mrs. Yang said you’re having trouble looking elegant and punctuated in your movements. Skaters have the same problem.”

You nod slowly, but a part of you is still sceptical. “But you guys have ice and skates. I have a wooden floor and ballet pumps.”

A laugh escapes his lips before he quickly covers his mouth, a look of apology flashing across his face. “Sorry, it’s just…what does that have to do with anything?”

You frown, still not entirely convinced. “You guys have blades to move you. I have to coordinate my legs to move me. You guys can think about fluidity and movement.”

He crosses his arms, his expression becoming more serious as he regards you with an intensity that makes your heart skip a beat. “Do you know how ridiculous you sound? We have to balance on a tiny blade and have every chance to slip or crash from a jump.”

His words hang in the air, and you suddenly feel a bit foolish for your assumptions. Of course, figure skating requires immense skill and precision - maybe even more so than ballet, given the added challenge of balancing on ice.

“Okay, fair point,” you admit, feeling a bit sheepish. You also hate it when people underestimate the skill and energy it takes to perform ballet, and yet here you are doing it to him about his own sport.

He steps closer, his eyes never leaving yours, and you find yourself holding your breath under his gaze. “I know you were expecting some ballet genius to help you but our arts are similar. It’s about control, balance, and grace,” he explains. “On the ice, every movement needs to be both powerful and delicate. The same applies to ballet. You need to find that balance between strength and elegance. That’s where I come in.”

You nod slowly, beginning to understand his perspective. The way he speaks, the passion in his voice, makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, this might actually work. “And you think you can teach me that?”

“I know I can,” he says confidently, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “If you’re willing to put in the effort, that is.”

There’s a challenge in his words, one that you can’t resist rising to. You’ve always prided yourself on your work ethic, and you’re not about to let anyone doubt your dedication.

“I am,” you reply firmly, meeting his gaze with determination.

Sunghoon starts the session by having you go through your routine. His eyes are sharp, missing nothing as he watches you move across the floor. You’re acutely aware of his presence, the way his gaze seems to weigh on your every step, every turn, every jump. It’s unnerving at first, but you push through the discomfort, focusing on executing each movement with precision.

When you finish, he steps forward, nodding thoughtfully. “You’re good,” he says, and the praise sends a warm flush of satisfaction through you and a blush to your cheeks. “But you’re too tense. You’re overthinking every move, and it shows. Ballet is as much about feeling as it is about technique. You need to let go a little.”

You frown slightly, not entirely sure how to do that. “Let go?”

“Yeah,” he says, moving to stand beside you. “Your muscles are too tight, your movements too calculated. It’s like you’re afraid of making a mistake, so you’re holding back.”

You look down at the floor, his words hitting a little too close to home. You’ve always been afraid of making mistakes, always felt the pressure to be perfect. It’s something that’s been drilled into you since you first started dancing, and it’s hard to shake.

He must sense your hesitation because he steps closer, his voice softening. “Hey,” he says gently, and you look up to find his eyes full of understanding. “I get it. But if you keep holding back, you’re never going to reach your full potential.”

There’s something in his voice that makes you want to trust him, something that makes you feel like maybe he understands you in a way that others don’t. You nod slowly, taking a deep breath as you try to let go of the tension in your body.

“Good,” he says, a small smile playing on his lips. “Now, let’s try something different.”

_____

For two hours straight, you push your body to its limits, executing each movement with precision and determination. Sunghoon’s voice fills the studio, giving you sharp, pointed instructions that you follow without question. But as the minutes tick by, the atmosphere begins to shift. The calm, encouraging demeanour he started with fades, replaced with a growing tension that seems to coil around the two of you, tightening with each correction he makes.

“Extend more,” he snaps as you move through a series of arabesques. His tone is snappier now, the softness from before replaced with something harsher. “You’re still too stiff.”

You grit your teeth, focusing on stretching every muscle to its fullest, making sure each line is as precise as possible. But no matter how much you try, his dissatisfaction only seems to grow.

“Again,” he commands, his voice laced with frustration. You try to push your discontent down, channelling it into your movements, but the more you try, the more his critiques seem to cut through you.

“You’re losing focus. How are you going to perform on stage if you can’t even manage this in practice?”

The sting of his criticism hits you deep, and you can feel your confidence waver. Are you really that bad? You’re hitting the moves correctly, focusing intently on your lines - the very aspect of the performance Mrs. Yang had criticised you for. You’re doing everything he’s asking, so why is he still so frustrated? Shouldn’t he be pleased that his coaching is starting to take effect?

You execute a pirouette, landing with precision, but the instant your foot touches the ground, Sunghoon’s voice cuts through the air. “No,” he says sharply, shaking his head. “You’re not following through. Where’s the energy? The intention?”

“I’m trying!” The words slip out before you can stop them, frustration bubbling over. Your chest heaves with exertion, and you meet his eyes, desperate for some sign that he understands how hard you’re working, how much you’re giving.

But his expression remains hard, unreadable, and that only fuels the growing tension between you. “Trying isn’t enough,” he snaps back, stepping closer, his tone leaving no room for argument. “You need to do more than just hit the moves. You have to feel them. Right now, you’re just going through the motions. There’s no passion, no fire.”

His words cut deep, and you feel a flare of anger mixed with hurt. “I’m doing exactly what you asked,” you retort, unable to keep the edge out of your voice. “I’m focusing on the lines, on the form. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes,” he says, his frustration palpable, “but you’re missing the point. It’s not just about form; it’s about bringing the movements to life. Right now, you’re nothing more than a marionette, moving because you’re being told to, not because you’re actually feeling the dance.”

The comparison stings and you can feel yourself reaching boiling point. You’ve been working so hard, pushing yourself beyond what you thought you were capable of, and yet here you are, being told that it’s still not enough. A part of you wants to shout at him, to tell him that he doesn’t understand how hard this is, how much pressure you’re under. But instead, you swallow the words, letting the irritation simmer beneath the surface.

Sunghoon’s gaze softens, just a fraction, but it’s enough to make you feel the weight of his expectations even more acutely. “I know you can do better. Mrs. Yang told me you’re one of her best students,” he says, his voice gentler now with the content, though no less intense. “That’s why I’m pushing you. I need you to push yourself. You’ve got so much potential, but something’s holding you back. What is it?”

His question hangs in the air, heavy and probing. For a moment, you’re at a loss for words. Why are you holding back? Is it the fear of failing? Fear that you’ll never be good enough? Or maybe, deep down, you just don’t believe in yourself.

The silence between you stretches, thick with hostility. Sunghoon steps closer, his presence almost overwhelming, the heat radiating off him nearly suffocating. You can feel the intensity of his gaze, a challenge flickering in his eyes, daring you to shatter whatever invisible barrier is restraining you.

He’s so close now that you can see the tight set of his jaw, the way his eyes blaze with a fire that sends a shiver down your spine. The frustration is palpable, a tangible force crackling in the air, making it feel electric, charged with something both exhilarating and frightening.

With a firm but gentle touch, Sunghoon places his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face the mirror. He steps in behind you, closing the space between your bodies. “Look at yourself,” he says, his voice low and resonant. “See how tense you are?” His large hands slide down from your shoulders, tracing the line of your body. “Every muscle is knotted up. You can’t perform at your best unless you loosen up. Stop overthinking. Just…let go.”

Your eyes meet his in the floor-to-ceiling mirror, and in that instant, the world seems to fade away, leaving just the two of you, close enough to feel each other’s breath. Then, almost instinctively, his fingers press into your sides, firm and commanding, gliding up your waist and torso with deliberate slowness. The sensation sends a wave of heat through your body, and your breath catches as he lifts your arms, stretching your upper half with a fluid motion that leaves you feeling vulnerable and exposed.

“Feel this,” he murmurs, his breath warm against the nape of your neck, sending another quake over your body. He holds your wrists above your head with one hand, the other pressing into your lower back, making you hyper-aware of the heat emanating from him. “See how good that feels?”

Using his knuckles, he circles the bottom of your spine, dissolving any knots and doubts from it. You resist the urge to moan but your eyes roll to the back of your head as you push your hips into him, aching for more of his magical touch. Out of all the massages you have ever had, this tiny glimmer of one beats them all.

His breath spreads over your skin, and his fingers tighten slightly around your wrists as he holds you in place. Once you bring your eyes forward, he locks in with yours in the mirror. His piercing stare is intense and your heart quickens, the tension between you crackling like a live wire.

“You like that?” Sunghoon asks, the smirk plastered on his face as he feels you grinding onto his growing boner. He can see you wanting to let go in the reflection of your eyes as well as the neediness in your breaths, giving him all the consent he needs to take this further.

As he releases your wrists, his hand trails down your shoulders and back to meet the other. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your top, firm yet tender. His fingers glide along your spine, coaxing your body to arch into the movement, a soft sigh escaping your lips. His touch is skilled, knowing exactly where to press and where to ease, melting away the tension in your muscles, leaving you pliant under his hands.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” he whispers, the edge in his voice betraying his awareness of the effect he’s having on you. The connection is almost too intense to bear. But you can’t look away, drawn to the magnetic pull between you. He slides his hands over your sides and across your lower abdomen, fingers digging slightly into your muscles, the pressure both soothing and intoxicating as he massages your belly and hips.

You instinctively begin to lower your arms, the proximity making it difficult to concentrate on anything else. But his grip tightens around your waist in warning. “No, keep your arms up, sweetheart,” he says, his tone demanding, the instructor in him resurfacing.

Resting his hand flatly on your stomach, his fingers spread as he pulls you flush against him, your back meeting the solid expanse of his chest. The contact makes you acutely aware of every point where your bodies touch, your heart hammering in your chest as your breath catches. His hands linger at the waistband of your leggings, before slowly, his hands dip down, fingers brushing against your skin, exploring with deliberate, teasing slowness. The sensation sends a jolt of electricity through you, your skin tingling under his touch.

His hands move lower, the anticipation building with every inch he covers. You can feel your muscles trembling, your arms still stretched above your head as he asked, but the effort to maintain the position becomes increasingly difficult with every passing second.

His fingers find your folds, slipping between them with an agonising slowness that leaves you gasping. The sensation is overwhelming, your body instinctively moving with his fingers, but he’s quick to remind you of his control. “Keep your arms up, be a good girl and listen,” he murmurs, his voice laced with a quiet authority that leaves no room for disobedience.

The smirk on his face is unmistakable as he watches you struggle to comply, the tension between following his instructions and giving in to the intoxicating pull of his touch almost unbearable. His fingers continue their slow exploration, teasing and tormenting you with a skill that leaves you trembling, your resolve weakening with every passing moment.

Impulse begs you to let your arms fall, to collapse into his embrace, but his gaze holds you in place, that smirk still playing on his lips as he watches you battle with your own desires. The contrast between his command and the sheer pleasure he’s coaxing from your body is dizzying, leaving you on the edge of surrender.

Yet, despite the intense need coursing through you, you force yourself to keep your arms raised, stretching above your head, the effort only adding to the thrill coursing through your veins. His fingers move with deliberate intent now, pressing deeper, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body that make it almost impossible to think, to breathe.

Sunghoon’s fingers expertly play with your pussy, two of them circling your sensitive nub with a maddening precision that leaves you dizzy. “Do you feel how exhausted your arms are?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of smugness, as though expecting an answer despite your obvious distraction.

Nodding, you squeeze your eyes shut so tightly that white spots dance behind your lids, a kaleidoscope of fleeting lights against the darkness. The burn in your arms is a sharp contrast to the way your hips instinctively move, undulating in perfect sync with his skilled fingers. It's a delicious torment—the strain in your muscles somehow amplifies the pleasure coiling low in your belly, turning every sensation sharper, more intense.

Suddenly, his lips are on your neck, a gentle press of heat that sends a shiver cascading down your spine, threatening to unravel you completely. The warmth of his mouth on your skin is your undoing, and before you can stop yourself, your arms give way. You collapse forward, hands scrambling to find purchase, seeking him instinctively as if he's the only thing keeping you grounded. Your fingers dig into his arms, nails biting into his skin as you cling to him, desperate for stability in the storm he's unleashed within you.

"See how loose you feel?" His voice is a murmur against your neck, each word a hot, teasing caress. "How your body wants to move on its own, to give in? That’s how your performance should be."

As if to punctuate his point, his fingers slide inside you, the sudden, intimate invasion tearing a sharp gasp from your lips. Your hips buck against his hand, craving more, driven by the need he’s ignited in you. His other arm tightens around your waist, holding you close, anchoring you to him as his fingers continue their relentless rhythm, each stroke designed to push you further, closer to the edge.

The atmosphere around you thickens, every breath heavy with the electric tension between you. The heat radiating from his body seeps into yours, an overwhelming presence that consumes you, making it impossible to think of anything but the here and now. The scent of him - musky, intoxicating - fills your senses, making you feel lightheaded, dizzy with desire. You can feel the hardness of his arousal pressing insistently against your lower back, a solid reminder of his own need, adding fuel to the fire already burning within you.

His pace quickens, fingers plunging deeper, more urgently, more demanding. "Even your pussy is so tight," he murmurs, his tone more observation than criticism. "Do I need to open this up too?"

Your laboured breathing is your only response, mingling with the slick, rhythmic sounds of his hand moving inside you. The coil of pleasure in your core tightens with every thrust, winding tighter and tighter, the pressure building until you feel like you might shatter from the intensity of it.

Your hands clutch at his arm, desperate, seeking something solid to hold onto as your legs threaten to buckle beneath you. His fingers curl inside you, finding that perfect spot that sends your vision spinning, a raw, needy moan escaping your lips. The feeling of his hard length pressing against you, coupled with the masterful way his fingers work you, has your entire body humming with sensation, alive with the need to surrender to the pleasure he’s offering.

Sunghoon’s mouth returns to your neck, lips brushing over your sensitive skin, his teeth grazing lightly as he sucks, sending another jolt of arousal through you. "That’s it," he murmurs against your skin, his voice a low, rough command that vibrates through you. "Let go. Feel it. This is how you should be."

His words wrap around you like a spell, breaking down the last of your restraint. Your body moves with his, falling into the rhythm he’s set, lost in the heat and desire pulsing between you. Every stroke, every touch, draws you deeper into the abyss of pleasure, until all you can do is let go and let him guide you.

“Fuck, Sunghoon,” you manage to mewl, your voice trembling, breathless, as you throw your head back, letting it rest against his chest.

A low, rumbling chuckle escapes him, the sound reverberating through you, adding to the fire already blazing in your veins. His lips trail up to your ear, his tongue flicking against your earlobe, a playful, teasing nip that sends another shiver racing down your spine. “That’s it,” he whispers, his voice thick with a mix of amusement and desire. His fingers curl inside you again, hitting that spot that makes your entire body jerk in his hold, another gasp torn from your throat. “You like this, don’t you? You’re such a perfect student, so eager to please.”

All you can do is nod, biting down on your lip to stifle the moans threatening to spill over. He hums appreciatively, his hot breath brushing against your ear, the sensation sending another ripple of pleasure through you. “Good,” he purrs, his voice low and commanding, like the instructor he is. “You’re a quick learner when you want to be. You respond so well to guidance.”

Without warning, his hand shifts, thumb finding your clit, applying just the right amount of pressure to make your hips jerk involuntarily. Your vision blurs, stars dancing before your eyes as the pleasure crashes over you in waves, each one pulling you deeper into the sensation. His fingers move with expert precision, relentless in their pursuit of your release, pushing you closer and closer to the brink.

In the mirror before you, Sunghoon’s eyes lock onto you, a satisfied smile playing on his lips as he relishes in watching the pleasure contort your face. "You’re moving perfectly, not overthinking, just feeling how you should," he murmurs, almost to himself, pride evident in his voice.

Just as you feel yourself teetering on the brink, he slows his movements, dragging out your pleasure, keeping you suspended on the edge. You whimper with need, the desperation in your voice only making him grin wider. His lips brush against your ear, his voice a dark, seductive whisper that sends your brain into orbit. "You’re going to cum for me, aren’t you? Be a good dancer and let go, show me how well you can perform."

It’s not a question; it’s a command. And with one final, skilled stroke, he pushes you over the edge, sending you spiralling into a climax that tears through you, leaving every atom in your body shaking with intensity and your muscles instantly tensing, just to relax once again.

As the tremors subside, you feel his hands shift, fingers hooking into the waistband of your leggings. “We’re just getting started,” he murmurs, a hint of something dark and promising in his voice. Slowly, he pulls them down, the fabric dragging against your skin, heightening your sensitivity. “You’re still tight,” he observes, voice low, almost thoughtful. “We need to work on that.”

He positions himself behind you, the heat of his body a stark contrast to the cool air against your bare skin. Pushing his joggers and boxers down to his thighs, he lets his hard cock spring free, your body shielding it from the mirror in front of you, but as he drags it along your folds, you get a sense of the thick, long shaft he is about to impale you with.

His hand moves to your hips, guiding you, adjusting your stance, and your hands find home on the mirror in front of you, fingers splaying across the cool glass. “Arch your back,” he instructs, voice firm yet gentle, as if this were just another rehearsal. “Relax into it…let me in.”

With a measured, almost calculated precision, he enters you, the sensation of him filling you completely making you gasp. In the mirror, your reflection catches your eye, your mouth falling open as you watch him disappear inside you. “Oh god,” you moan, the image of your bodies coming together, the way he stretches you, only intensifying the sensation. “Sunghoon…”

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet, wrapping around you, pulling you deeper into the moment. “Look at yourself,” he commands softly, his breath hot against your ear. “See how your body opens up when you let go? When you stop fighting and just let the movement happen? That’s how you get perfect lines.”

His pace is slow at first, methodical, every thrust a deliberate stroke meant to coax your body into submission. Your eyes lock onto your reflection, the sight of his hips moving against yours, the way your skin flushes with arousal, captivating. “Fuck, your pussy is sensational,” he breathes, a hint of strain in his voice as he pulls back slightly, only to push deeper. “Almost as good as your allegro.”

You let out a broken moan, your gaze flicking between his intense expression in the mirror and the way his muscles are contracting in his arms as he firms his grip on your waist, focusing on pounding into you with fervour. “Sunghoon… more… please…”

Each movement of his hips is like a masterclass, each squeeze from his hands and twitch of his cock only making your body ache for more. “Don’t hold back,” he whispers, his grip on your hips tightening, pulling you closer. “Let your body respond to mine.”

Your eyes widen as he leans forward slightly, the angle allowing you to see more of him in the mirror, his jaw tightening with every thrust. “Feels so good,” you manage to gasp out, your voice breathy, desperate as you push back against him, trying to take him deeper. “Please, don’t stop…”

The mirror reflects the sheen of sweat forming on your skin, the way your body arches into his touch, how every line of your form matches the rhythm he’s set. Your body moves with his, every thrust pushing you closer to that edge again, every word sinking deeper into your mind. His hand slides down your stomach, fingers finding your clit once more, adding that extra layer of stimulation that has your legs shaking. “That’s it,” he coaxes, voice rich with approval. “Give in to it. Let your body move the way it wants to…the way it needs to.”

“Sunghoon… oh, god… I’m gonna-” Your words cut off in a whimper as his pace quickens, the pace he sets becoming more intense, more demanding, each thrust designed to unravel you, to push you past your limits.

“Jesus Christ,” he murmurs into your neck, his gaze flickering up to meet yours in the mirror, watching how your breath fogs up the glass in front of you and your fingers claw down the flat surface in an attempt to grip onto something tangible. The sight of you coming undone in the reflection only seems to spur him on, his hips snapping against yours with renewed vigour.

“Sunghoon, I-” you try to speak, but the words dissolve into a moan as he thrusts deeper, hitting a spot that makes your vision blur and stars dance before your eyes, the bell of his cock kissing the sensitive spot inside your walls.

“Show me,” he commands, his voice like a conductor’s baton, directing the crescendo. “Show me how beautifully you can fall apart.”

Sunghoon’s arm wraps securely around your waist, pulling your trembling body back against his chest. The new angle allows him to thrust even deeper, the motion sending shockwaves of pleasure through you, each stroke of his cock searing itself into your memory. You feel completely filled by him, the sensation overwhelming as your reflection quakes, your body obeying every demand he silently makes. Your muscles clench around him, and as your head falls back against his shoulder, you cry out his name.

The mirror captures every detail - the flush of your skin, the arch of your back, the way your mouth opens in a silent scream as another intense climax rips through you. This one is even more powerful than the last, leaving you utterly undone, your body shaking in his arms as he holds you steady.

As the waves of pleasure begin to ebb, your eyes lock onto the mirror once more. You see yourself as Sunghoon sees you raw, vulnerable, but also strong, capable of surrendering and finding beauty in letting go. For a moment, all you can see is the perfect dancer he’s crafted, the one who’s learned to trust the rhythm and fall apart beautifully.

Chasing his own release, he begins to buck his hips in a fast, sharp manner, aware that two orgasms on your end could make you extra sensitive. Your pussy milks his cock as he cums deep inside of you, his nails scratching your hips and down your ass, as he moans out your name, chanting it like a hymn during confession.

His chest heaves against your back and he kisses anywhere he can on your neck and shoulders to ground himself in the present, bringing himself down from his high.

As he slowly slides out of you, his arms never leave your body, keeping you close. He gently lowers you to the ground, sitting you down and holding you against him. Your body feels like jelly, completely spent, but his embrace is comforting. He presses soft kisses to the back of your head, his breath warm against your damp skin.

"You did so well, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice tender, full of pride.

You tilt your head back slightly, looking up at him with a small, exhausted smile. "I don’t think I’m supposed to be this relaxed when I perform at the exhibition," you manage to say, a breathless giggle escaping your lips.

Sunghoon chuckles along with you, the sound vibrating through your body where you're pressed against him. He shakes his head, brushing a few strands of hair away from your sweaty face. "No, you should have some feeling in your bones," he agrees, wiping the moisture from your brow with the back of his hand. "But do you see how, when you let yourself do what your body wanted, you felt a million times better?"

You nod, the memory of the intensity still fresh in your mind. "Yeah…I did. It felt different…freer."

"Exactly," he says, his eyes softening as he gazes at you. "That’s how ballet is supposed to be. You can’t bring emotions to an audience if you’re too busy concentrating on getting the next move right."

"But Mrs. Yang always talks about perfection," you counter, the words slipping out before you can stop them. "She says, ‘You need to be perfect to achieve perfection.’ She repeats it all the time."

Sunghoon sighs, a look of understanding crossing his features. "It’s the same for us," he admits, his tone tinged with a mix of disdain and resignation. "Every skate has to be better than the last, or else you’re a failure." His voice carries the weight of someone who’s heard those words too many times, who’s internalised them and yet knows there’s more to the story.

"But perfection isn’t something you learn from a textbook. It’s not something you can force." He pauses, looking down at you, his expression thoughtful. "You need to find your own colour, your own style. That’s where true perfection lies - when it comes from within, not from trying to meet someone else’s standards."

You hold his gaze, the truth in his words sinking in. For years you have tried to live up to Mrs. Yang’s expectation that you lost your real love for the art. Or maybe, not lost the love, but rather buried it under the weight of being perfect.

"But…what if I never find it? My colour."

Sunghoon’s lips curve into a small smile, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing over your flushed skin. "To be honest, you’re better than most. You’ve got the skill, the technique, but you’re holding yourself back because you’re so focused on being perfect." His eyes bore into yours, sincere and encouraging. "You need to let your posture breathe, stop worrying about being flawless, and just…dance. That’s what’s holding you back - then you’ll find it."

His words resonate deeply within you, stirring something that’s been buried under layers of self-doubt and external expectations. "So I just need to let go?"

"Exactly," he says, his voice firm but gentle. "Let go, trust yourself, and let your body move the way it’s meant to. Just like we did there."

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight on your shoulders lift just a bit. "I’ll try," you whisper, the words carrying more determination than you thought possible.

Sunghoon smiles, a warmth in his eyes that makes your heart flutter. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, a gesture so tender it nearly makes you melt. "That’s all anyone can ask for," he murmurs, his voice reassuring.

You nod, feeling a newfound resolve build within you. As you sink deeper into his embrace, the world around you seems to blur, leaving behind the certainty that you’re ready to let go, to embrace the dancer you’ve always been meant to be.

After a moment of quiet, Sunghoon pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your hips, grounding you. "How about we get you cleaned up, and then we run through it again?" he suggests, his tone light yet purposeful.

You smile, the idea of starting fresh with this new perspective sparking a sense of excitement in you. "Yeah," you agree, your voice steady. As Sunghoon helps you to your feet and fixes your outfit for you, you feel your heart burst with determination and adoration, both for ballet and the man in front of you.

You’re going to have to thank Mrs. Yang for this by giving the most passionate performance at the exhibition.

Maybe Sunghoon can keep coaching you until then. You do need to work on your flexibility after all…

---

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#enhypen smut #enha smut #sunghoon smut #park sunghoon smut #aj writes #enhypen x reader #enha x reader

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bysaber · 1 year

Text

weeping dragon

pairing: neuvillette x fem!reader

summary: neuvillette thinks he isn’t deserving of your love.

content: cliche !!!, reader trapped in his house bc of rain, lil antsy but happy ending

wc: 800

a/n: mm hii!! first fic here! I hope you enjoy it I kind of wrote it in twenty minutes and I’m just publishing it without beta reading bc (we die like men) I’m just too in love with neuv and I want to share it with the world lolol

Neuvillette couldn’t bring himself to even think about making a move.

He kept many secrets, and every time he faced your bright smile he would remember it was not his place to disturb your peace. After all, how could a young woman like you endure the dangerous claws of a dragon?

You had stopped by his house to discuss the latest trial and his emotions got the best of him, causing a rain to start pouring.

A storm was approaching; lighting was seen through the window and low thunders could be heard. Neuvillette plagued himself under his breath, hoping there would be a day where he could better control his feelings.

“Here,” he said as he handed you the cup of tea. You watched the lighting curiously, “I do not think the storm will pass for a few hours. You should stay. For the night, I mean.”

You took the cup of tea and averted your eyes from the window to Neuvillette’s face. You studied him with caution, as if it was the first time you ever saw the man — even though you worked together for many months.

“Are you okay?” you asked, ignoring completely his offer.

The words got stuck in his throat and, for a few seconds, he really thought he wouldn’t answer. The man sipped on his tea, his mind racing while trying to figure out why you would ask that all of the sudden. “May I ask why are you asking me such a question?”

It was a small gesture, but he saw it all the same; the way you flexed your hand. There was something you wanted to grab?

Something you wanted to hold?

“They say… It rains when the Hydro Dragon weeps. Yeah, that's what they say,” you murmured and once again looked out the window. To the storm. “The Hydro Dragon. That would be you, right?”

Neuvillette almost choked on his tea, every part of his body malfunctioning and leaving him with only one thing for sure: in his entire existence, this was the first time he was left completely and utterly speechless.

Your warm and comforting eyes turned to him, and you grabbed his cup of tea to put it alongside yours on the coffee table. “Neuvillette,” you spoke his name as if it was a piece of poetry you were yet to learn — eager to do so, “Talk to me.”

And then— your hands, so small and fragile if compared to his, touched him. Your fingers traced his, and you embraced his hand between yours. He could feel the warmth of your skin contrasting against his cold one, pulling him closer, closer, closer.

“When did you figure it out?” was the first thing he said, scared it may be recent. If so, there still is time for you to run, for you to escape. To turn your back and never see him again. It’s probably the best for you, he knows, but this little selfish part in him can’t stand the thought of seeing you gone.

“A month ago or so, it doesn't matter,” you’re quick to cut the subject. “I didn't mention it because I knew you didn't want me to. I’m just worried, that's all.”

Worried.

She is worried.

The realization clicks in Neuvillette’s mind, for the first time in so long acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he was too, deserving of someone’s concern and care.

“You are saying it does not matter,” he repeats as if to confirm what he just heard.

I pushed you because I cared about you. I pushed you because you made me feel good and comfortable. I pushed you because I thought my true self would frighten you.

Yet, you’re here. And you’re telling me it doesn’t matter.

“It doesn’t. Never did,” you frown. “I just wanna know, no— I need to know why it is raining, Neuvillette. Why would you weep? I’m here with you, talk to me.”

Without giving it a second thought, Neuvillette’s right hand finds your lower back and in a split second you're pressed against his chest, the tightest hug you have ever been given. He’s much taller than you, and you can feel perfectly as he inhales your scent and hugs you tightly.

“Neuv—”

“I thought I had to restrain myself from you. I thought I was no good,” he finally speaks his mind, distancing himself enough for you to see his face; the weeping Dragon. Oh, the melancholy in his eyes.

The eyes of someone who almost lost something precious.

“Neuvillette,” you whispered. “There’s nothing better for me than you.”

And it was true; so you pulled on his hair just enough to have him connecting your lips, a sigh of relief escaping him as if there was nothing in this world he had anticipated more.

#wbysaber #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #fontaine #neuvillette x you #neuvilette #neuvilette x reader #fanfic #oneshot #drabble #imagine

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wandasfavv · 6 months

Text

Getting Closer

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: After finally indulging in a relationship with your stepmom, you found yourself in more situations involving Wanda’s careless behavior such as her secretly fucking you as your father’s in the same room.

Part 1(Make You Mine)

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Stepmom!Wanda x fem!reader, slight non/con, strap on(r receiving), strapwarming, fingers in mouth, RISKYYY sex, angry sex??, daddy issues, and mommy kink bc she’s just sooo, also kinda angsty/fluffy at the end

It’s been a couple weeks since your first time with Wanda. And ever since then, she had become a bit more clingy than expected. Actually more than clingy, just completely obsessed with you.

Almost every night Wanda came to your room, fucking you to relieve herself of both the sexual frustration from you and just the frustration from your father. The two haven’t been getting along at all, only having arguments every day even if they were over little things. Wanda couldn’t even bear sleeping with him, and just used the couch downstairs in the living room as a cover up of where she actually slept, your bed.

Not that you mind though. It was actually one of the best things that happened to you as you didn’t think your father was ever worthy of having such an endearing and beautiful wife like Wanda. She was the only person who actually cared for your well being, truth be told. Unlike your dad, she didn’t dismiss your feelings, always looking out for when you acted unusual and making sure there was something she could do to fix it. Her whole world and worries were about you, only you. Her sweet nature only got to the point where you questioned yourself, if you’d possibly fallen in love with her.

———————-

Around 5pm Wanda called you out to the living room, seemingly planned something. She was sat in the armchair, one of those sofas that would only fit for one. You walked towards her curiously, asking “You called?”

“Yeah, you wanna watch a movie with me?” She replied quickly with a charming smile, the one you grew even weaker for. Glancing at the tv screen, it displayed a familiar movie from the collection of DvDs you grew up watching. You figured it’d be fine to spend some time with her, noticing the need to be close to you she showed too. Though strangely, she had a blanket covering her lap despite the hotter conditioning within the house.

“Um, sure,” You said, moving to sit on her lap as she patted and gestured you to sit there, something that was considered normal as you’ve done it many times before now. However, as you sat down you felt something hard poking your thighs. Your head turned to look back at her questionably, your eyebrows furrowed. “Wanda..?”

In response, she only smirked and moved her hands to your waist, pulling you back to push her front against your body. You let out a small gasp upon feeling her breasts pressed up on your back and as the lead-up happened all so quickly. “I need you really bad today, sweetie.” She said, her voice low in your ear. She moved one hand down to roughly tug down the blanket out and from under you, revealing the toy she hid. It was a large strap on that she had used on you before, though you’ve never taken the whole thing before. The deep red of it was an appealing color to Wanda’s character, and you thoroughly found it arousing to see her with it.

The toy was then in between your thighs, slightly pressed up against your clothed center. “Could you be a dear and help mommy out?” She asked you as her hand squeezed your side, her control already leaving her like always.

You shyly nodded as her soft tone made your head feel cloudy, reaching for the waistband of your shorts and underwear to pull them down once you stood up a bit. Wanda assisted you in doing so, and quickly pulled them down because she just desperately wanted to get straight to the point. She positioned the strap to align with your entrance, already finding you wet. Once the tip was in, she got ahold of your waist again, carefully lowering you down on the big shaft.

“I’ll go slow, don’t worry,” Wanda reassured you. There was small whine that left your mouth as it barely fit and got halfway. She shushed you, rubbing your sides in the hopes that you’d relax more. Still, as she kept pushing you down, tears quickly built up and your hands found their way to Wanda’s thighs under you, squeezing tightly. A loud whimper came out as your breathing also quickened. “I know, I know baby, it’s big. Just breathe in and out.”

You knew Wanda always made sure you were okay before doing something, but she was at times an impatient woman. Ergo, leading to her unexpectedly force you down fully. You yelped and had a tighter grip on her, though not strong enough to hurt her. Your legs kicked a bit helplessly as you were stuck with her inside and buried in you to the brim. Another whine left your throat, “Mommy…”

“It’s okay, I won’t move. I just want you to sit on mommy’s cock for a little while, okay? Just focus on the tv, sweetie,” Wanda responded, her voice sounding sickly sweet. She lifted her hand to your cheek, turning your head to face forward instead of her. Her eyes trailed your body, noticing the hardening nipples showing through the shirt you were wearing. One hand went under the fabric, creeping up to aggressively grope your chest, only making you moan as you began to focus on that instead of the bruising feeling within your cunt.

She kept this up for about half an hour, teasing your body and making you drenched around her cock. As time passed, you grew needier and eager for her to move, but she showed no signs of wanting to. You shifted bit in her lap, biting your inner cheek as the toy hit a spot that made you quietly moan. Wanda of course witnessed the entire thing, not paying a single ounce of her attention on the screen in front of her, only her favorite girl. She smirked at your desperation beginning to show, and only stopped you as her hands tightly held you still. “What did I say? Focus on the movie.”

“But I-“

The sound of the front door alerted you two and stopped you from continuing. Both you and Wanda turned to the direction of it, only to hear the familiar noise of your father barging in. Panicking, you tried to lift yourself up. However, Wanda had other plans as she kept her hold on you, giving you a look of authority to keep you from moving. Despite his unexpected return, Wanda was awfully calm, like she didn’t even care if you’d get caught getting fucked by his wife.

The footsteps were getting closer, making you sweat nervously as you stared between Wanda and where the hallway met the living room.

“Hey, is Wanda here?” Your father asked, seeing your head positioned slightly above the headrest of the armchair once he came into view. Considering the size of the chair and the way it was positioned, you guessed that Wanda wasn’t visible in his perspective. You turned your body a bit and moved your head to where the back of the chair didn’t block your eyes, resting an elbow on the armrest as you looked behind at him.

“I-“ you felt a small yet effective upward movement of Wanda’s hips that caused you to bite your lip hard, causing it to slowly bleed out. Any feeling of her moving inside your sensitive walls made you see stars. Your father looked at you, confused at the sudden pause. Wanda held a smug look on her face as her hands were on your waist, and noticing how you weren’t responding quick enough, she dug her nails into your skin. The action made you surprised and stutter out an answer to him, trying your best to ignore the pain and pleasure that came from the woman underneath you. “S-She’s probably out buying groceries.”

He only responded with a silent nod, no longer looking at you and focusing on searching for something from his pocket. Confused on why he was even home at this time, you asked “What are you doing here anyway? S-Shouldn’t you be at work..?”

Your father still wasn’t looking at you as he patted down his jacket. “Uh yeah I got off work early… but I think I have to go back. I forgot my wallet,”he said, sighing loudly as he didn’t find it anywhere.

“You should probably go then…” you said, a noticeable quiver in your voice. Wanda still kept thrusting gently into you, the entire thing going in and out. You looked down at her face for second which showed a pleasured and teasing look as her eyes zeroed in on how you were taking it. Your lip was also still trapped between your teeth, and you tasted metal off the tip of your tongue.

“Alright, I’ll be back later then. Make sure Wanda starts dinner, I’m starving.”

That last comment made Wanda thrust inside your cunt brutally. A whimper escaped as you immediately put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed it hard enough to make her stop. Her face then showed irritation and annoyance, staring off to the side. Luckily your father’s ears seemed to lack hearing, something you noticed as he hadn’t questioned the screaming coming from your room every night at all. He quickly left the house, leaving you stuck on top of his wife who he aggravated.

Out of nowhere, she brought her hands down to your ass, lifting you up from her strap. As you shakily stood, it allowed Wanda to drag you to the longer couch, pushing you down on it so you laid and faced upward. She took the hem of your shirt before pulling it off you in a careless manner.

“God, I’m so fucking sick of him…” she said, her voice deep and raspy as her eyes happened to have darken. Her hand took the toy and positioned it back to your pussy, only this time pushing in swiftly and roughly. You cried out and winced at the feeling of being stretched again, gripping onto the soft cushions underneath you. Wanda set off a fast pace and slammed into you without any remorse.

“W-Wanda slow down- please,” you begged, tears beginning to form once again. Wanda only ignored the plea, holding up your thighs from underneath and pushing them up against your chest to get better access. Your mouth fell open, moans spilling as the pain quickly faded into something pleasurable. You shut your eyes, letting Wanda take all her frustrations out on you now. Your orgasm was soon just seconds away, already built up from warming her cock earlier.

“There you go, cum for mommy,” she said, panting heavily as she continued the forceful thrusts and felt your walls tightening around the strap. Once her words registered, you came and let out noises you didn’t even know were possible out of your mouth. Wanda fucked you through it, letting you ride out your orgasm, but not letting up and making you build up to a second. You cried out again for her to stop, reaching out with one hand to push against her pelvis in attempt.

“Shh… you can take it,” she spoke, smiling sadistically down at you as tears kept falling. You shook your head no repeatedly and vigorously. Your noises and crying didn’t stop either, so to silence it, Wanda took two fingers and shoved them into your already gaping mouth, shutting you up. “Uh huh… so much better when you’re quiet and letting me have my way.”

You whined around her fingers, causing her to only push them deeper and making you gag. Finding it hot, she kept pushing her fingers back in and out, loving the way you choked on her thin yet long digits. It followed a similar pace as her hips, and this time she was pounding you into the couch. “Fuck, you love it when I stuff your holes like this huh? Filled up with all of me?”

Lost in your mind, you now nodded desperately feeling her beginning to hit your g spot over and over again. Drool leaked around Wanda’s fingers and your mouth, following the tears that layered your cheeks. She was feral at the sight of that and it only pushed her to fuck into you deeper and harder. Now coming closer to another orgasm, you whimpered aloud and gripped the wrist of Wanda’s hand that was near your mouth.

Your body shook tremendously once your climax hits you hard, more than the first. Wanda’s fingers left your mouth, a string of saliva following. And her movements continued, but a lot slower thankfully. Still, the overstimulation was overwhelming. “M-Mommy too much, I can’t…” you helplessly said as your voice was shriveled and weak. She had a small upward curve of her lips due to your adorableness from the aftershocks of an orgasm, then soon coming to a halt. She slowly pulled out, watching your pussy leave a mess as it leaked onto the couch.

Fighting the urge to just put her cock back in and fuck you stupid again, she breathed out heavily and took the strap off. Wanda leaned down to give you a kiss, a meaningful one as it lasted longer than most. “You’re so perfect baby… did so good for me. I’m so proud of you.” She whispered against your ear once you sat up slowly and against her chest with her help. It was already sore in different parts of your body, but especially your abused center and bruised thigh. Wanda wiped off the wet spots on your face, softly cradling the back of your head. “You okay?”

“Mhm…” you hummed in response, nodding slowly. She smiled cutely at you, now no longer thinking of anything else. She placed light feather kisses all around your face, causing you to also smile at her adoring aftercare.

“Good,” she said softly as her fingers ran through your hair. Her other arm wrapped around your body, pulling you into her more once she leaned back on the couch. Your head laid peacefully against her within this moment of silence. You then looked up from her neck to see her already looking down at you with a blush on her face along with her eyebrows knitted together forming small wrinkles between. It was like she wanted to tell you something, and knowing her, it was, because she always looked at you with that same expression when she felt vulnerable around you.

“I love you.”

The words that came from her mouth weren’t exactly unanticipated but you were still surprised. Butterflies erupted in your stomach and your face became a darker shade as well, matching the warm cheeks that Wanda had. She looked at you nervously as you took time to respond, not sure if it was too soon after the session.

“I love you too,” you replied, gazing up at her lovingly. She raised her eyebrows in surprise at your response, the overthinking and insecurities preventing her from expecting the answer she wished for. A grin grew on her face once she saw your cute expression. She cupped your face, pulling you into another deep kiss.

“I wish I met you sooner,” she whispered between kisses, thinking about how different it could’ve been without your father in the picture. You smiled, yet inwardly frowned at her words, finding them true as they proved the reality you created in your head false. That maybe you weren’t able to keep whatever this relationship was up in spite of the love you shared.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mommy!wanda #scarlet witch #lesbian #elizabeth olsen #top!wanda #fem!reader #i need her so bad

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norrizzandpia · 7 months

Note

bff reader x lando where they’re at a party maybs in monaco? pool party and stuff and the night gets messy but lando and reader stays out in the pool till late,and he becomes all clingy bc it’s getting cold and he likes reader 🥹 coz i’m a sucker for bff x lando aswell as cute smutty jealous lando,idk if you’ll be able to make something out of this but thank uuuu ☺️ xoxo

I love a good best friends to lovers

His (LN4)

Summary: When a fun pool party turns into a hurtful disaster, the only good thing to come from it is two confessions.

Warnings: wandering hands 😏, y/n’s ex, slightly jealous Lando, PROTECTIVE lando, the use of “whore” (not in an attractive way) language, major fluff at the end like i was blushing at my own writing

Note: I THINK I LOVE THIS ONE GUYS

To be honest, nobody told Y/n that her ex, David, was on the invite list. As she stood next to Max, him a rambling and blushing mess over Pietra - who was laughing with her friends in the cutest bikini across the way, Y/n tried to convince herself that her eyes were lying. There was no way in hell David was walking through the door to the backyard of whosever house Lando had dragged her to. There was no way in hell David was making eye contact with her, a sickening smile on his face as her presence greeted him. There was no way in hell David was walking toward her.

No way in hell.

Except, there was!

David’s hand squeezed the flesh of her arm as he grinned down at her, “Y/n! What’re you doing here?”

She blinked a few times, her fingers slightly denting the plastic of her cup as his sliminess seeped into her skin, “David! Lando brought me here. What about you?”

The problem with David was that he was always intimidated by Lando. Whether that was because Lando had a bigger build and had a few inches on him or because of the fact that Lando was more successful, she never could tell. However, all she knew was that one of the reasons they broke up was because of his continuous insecurity that controlled their fights over Lando. No matter how many times she reassured him or told him Lando was just a friend, David would never relent. In his mind, Lando and her were basically fucking on the side.

His eyes turned a darker shade, “Lando’s here?”

She nodded, “Yes, he got invited and had a plus one.”

David scoffed, “Oh, and you’re the plus one, I suppose.”

“Yes, she is.” Lando’s voice interrupted the conversation. His body stuck to Y/n’s side like glue, his hand around her waist, as he stared the man down. Another problem with their previous relationship - Lando and David hated each other. At first, Lando had kept an open mind to his best friend’s boyfriend, albeit he was a little standoffish, but the moment Y/n started to show up at his door - sobbing - in the middle of the night because of some bullshit David had said during a fight, Lando was immediately turned off.

Lando was always protective over the people he loved, attentive and caring to its fullest potential. But, with Y/n, there had always been an inherent need to be there for her through everything from the moment he met her. The way he was with her stood out among the rest. They could try and explain the deep connection away with certain things they shared in common, they had tried, but everybody knew.

David’s chest puffed up higher, not enough to scare Lando though, “Lando.”

Each syllable drenched in a need to exert dominance, David’s words made the McLaren Driver glance down at the girl tucked under his arm. His eyes, the ones she could always read, asked for her to trust him. She always would. She smiled back at him.

With the reassurance, Lando’s hand came to rest dangerously low on her back, “Is there anything more you need to say to my girlfriend?”

She did trust him, just didn’t expect that to come out of his mouth. Her fingers almost ripped through the cup in her hands as her firm hold continued.

David’s eyes bulged, “Girlfriend?!”

From some place deep within herself, one she had never met before, Y/n nodded feverishly, “Yeah, we got together a few months ago.”

Lando’s body leaned into her and it all began to feel… comfortable. They would never address it, but there was always some sort of unspeakable tension between them that made hangouts and interactions a bit intense and awkward, too much for people who were supposed to be the closest of friends. For once, as their hands were allowed to sit nicely on places they had been too aware of every time they touched each other, that sense of heightened uncertainty was completely gone.

Replaced was warm palms.

A soft smile plastered on Lando’s face was quickly gone the moment David laughed, “Oh, I saw this coming for ages.” His gaze, dangerous and angry, shifted to Y/n and Lando almost moved his entire body in front of her. Honestly, he wished he had as David mumbled in her direction, “Whore.”

Max, sipping on his drink off to the side, choked as he watched Lando’s entire body tense up. His arm, that was once wrapped around his “girlfriend”, very quickly came to clutch the man’s shirt, shoving him harshly.

“What’d you say?!” Lando said, right in his face as Pietra came to pull Y/n away. The two girls held hands tightly as the entire party’s attention was turned toward the spectacle that was Y/n’s ex-boyfriend and her speculated new one.

David’s face went pale, “Nothing.”

Lando pushed him away once more, slapping his chest harshly before pointing a finger in his face, “Say that about her again and I will make your life a living hell, I swear to God.”

David coughed out an apology to which Lando spit on his shoes and said, “Say it to her not me, dick.”

Her eyes caught his as he stuttered it out, pure fear etched into them - something she had never seen before. He was always eager to make her feel scared during an argument. It was weird to see him in the same position he had put her in multiple times before.

When he stumbled away, out the same door he had come from twenty minutes before, Lando stopped being concerned with the cameras around him, waltzing right up to his Y/n and holding her head in his hands. He whispered, “You good?”

She nodded, leaning into his hands as he began to lead her into the house. She knew it was his friend’s house, but she didn’t expect for him to know the complete layout of it when he brought her to the kitchen so effortlessly.

She looked around, “I’m not hungry.”

He nodded, shrugged, “I know, but I thought we could hide out in here while everyone filters out.”

Her head peeked around the corner and, sure enough, the guests who were once lingering around the pool in the back were now scurrying through the door.

Lando chuckled, “Guess David’s a downer.”

—

An hour later, dinner ingested and everybody gone, Y/n found herself back in the backyard. Her body laid against the concrete of the pool as she stared at the place where David had been, calling her names, an hour and a half before. It hurt to think about, wonder if that’s what he had genuinely thought of her throughout their relationship. Nobody knew that it all got to her, the comments under Lando’s posts about her being something entertaining for him and the others on Twitter talking about the same things David had muttered before, but it did. No matter how much she tried to make it seem as though she knew those claims were ridiculous, a part of her did, she had gradually begun to internalize it all, creating a deep sore spot.

Nobody knew.

Well, except for him.

Lando’s footsteps pattered against the cold ground before they begun splashing around as he submerged himself in the water. She turned around to see him, one arm hanging on to the edge of the pool while the other wadded in the water. He smiled at her as he begun swimming toward her, coming to rest skin-to-skin right next to her.

He looked on at the spot she was so infatuated with before whispering, “You know what he said was completely wrong, right?”

All she could do was nod, her voice would not be convincing. She knew that. Lando knew that and that’s why his arm creeped around her torso, holding her close.

His mouth was right next to her ear, “It’s not true, Y/n.”

There was a deep sincerity in his words that hit her heart hard, prompting her fingers to trail up his arm before clutching his shoulder. Her head turned, their faces inches apart, and she smiled, “Thank you.”

His body fell further into the water as he let go of the edge, pulling her flush against him right after. He was gentle in his touches as he guided her legs to wrap around him, continuing to hold her waist as her arms wrapped around his neck. A dark, starry sky above them illuminated the twinkle in Lando’s eye. One Y/n found hard to explain away.

He pushed the wet hair out of her face, “He didn’t know what he had.”

Her fingers traced and memorized the sharpness of his cheekbones, “Are you saying you do?”

Her question, however bold, opened their friendship up. For once, one of them was giving the other the opportunity to confess whatever had manifested throughout the time they’d spent together.

She could see it in his eyes, the hesitation and fear in moving into that space with her. Sure, they had been uncomfortable together before, but this was different. This was an opening for something that could make or break them.

This was life or death to Lando.

Though, by the way she smiled at him, he knew he would be stupid, wrong her like David had, if he continued to sweep it all under the rug, “Yes.”

Her hands stopped moving about his face, instead cradling it, “What does that mean, Lan?”

Her question made his heart stop, the moment it all came down to, “Y/n, I hated seeing you with him. I hated seeing you with all of them. I couldn’t stand to see you hanging onto someone else’s arm. It made my skin crawl. And, today, when I got to be the guy that had you under his arm, especially when I got to look your satanic ex-boyfriend in the eye and tell him you were mine, nothing felt better than that. I’ve always known what I had when it came to you. I just wish you would let me show that.”

Her hands tangled in his hair as he continued to hold her, his feet stabilizing them as he stood in the pool. She exhaled a breath, took a moment to think, before leaning closer, “I never said you couldn’t.”

Even in the cold of the night, his face warmed with a tinge of redness. He squeezed her lightly, allowing a moment of silence to pass as they looked at each other before whispering back, “It’s chilly out here.”

Her giggling warmed his body, “Lan, what does that have to do with any of this?”

His hand moved delicately up her back before resting on the nape of her neck, pulling her lips closer, “I’m thinking a kiss or two might warm us up.”

She smiled again and her thumb rubbed against his jawline, “Oh, I got it. I love that idea.”

Max and Pietra watched from the living room, hearing Lando laugh before the two were kissing in the soft light of the backyard. The couple rejoiced on the couch, jumping and down with no regard for Max and Lando’s friend yelling at them to get down. However, once he looked to see what they were screaming about, he joined them too. It felt like everyone had been waiting for this moment. The moment when Y/n and Lando realized that their friendship was never just that and the love they had for each other was never just love. It was something completely indescribable, but as long as the whispers of love they shared between kisses in that pool continued, that would feel like enough.

It sure as hell was more than enough for the smiling, blushing idiot of a Brit who was kicking himself for not telling his Y/n just how much of his she really had been all along.

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patscorner · 4 months

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kate fic idea ! okay so you and kate have been best friends since you can remember, but something happens around third grade were you had to move away. a few years later (towards college or so) you guys reconnect (bc yall decided to apply to the same college) then it ends up on them going on a date and kissing 🙏🏽

will do! 🫡

ALL OF THE ABOVE

Summary: You and Kate grew up together, but when you move across the country, you lose contact with her forever. Or so you think.

wc: 2,339 (she's a long one, buckle up folks)

Contains: mentions of alcohol, nothing...?

______________________________

For as long as you can remember, you have always had a best friend. Whether it was your first imaginary friend, your dog, or your brother. One of the most memorable of them all, though, was a short, dirty blonde girl in your third grade.

Kate was assigned as your table partner in art. Even as an eight-year-old, you knew she was the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. You both instantly clicked, bonding over favorite colors and working on your math problems together.

You both would play outside in recess together, swinging on the swings, or you’d play in the dirt while Kate played with a basketball. You guys were instantly each other’s ride or die, going to one another’s houses for sleepovers almost every weekend. Even throughout the seventh grade girl drama (canon event), and even after both of your friend groups crashed and burned, you two stood strong.

But sometimes things happen that you can’t control, like your parents separating in the middle of your eighth grade year. When you thought it couldn’t get any worse, your dad decided to return to his hometown and move across the country to Iowa, taking you and your brother with him.

You’ve never fought anything harder. You spent most of your time screaming at your dad and begging him to let you stay. When he kept refusing, you eventually accepted the fact that you were leaving. Leaving everything behind, your childhood home, your memories, your best friend.

At the time, the hardest thing you’d ever done was tell Kate you were leaving. You were in tears the whole time, even before you told her. She’d looked at you with worry and concern before embracing you, telling you that no matter what it was, she’d be there for you.

That’s the moment you knew you had fallen in love and that there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.

After you told her, you both cried together, vowing to write everyday (this was before you guys owned phones), and promising to never forget each other.

And that’s exactly how it started out. You wrote to her everyday, filling her in on everything that was happening in your first year of high school. And she’d write back, telling you about how she made the basketball team.

But soon, she started getting busy with all the media attention on the sophomore star, and your letters every day turned into nothing at all. You kept writing to her, but you never got anything back, even after you told her you got a phone.

You figured it was because you both got busy, but you couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that she didn’t write to you back. Eventually, you distracted yourself with finding your love for soccer and her, creating her future in women’s basketball.

You wouldn’t say you forgot her, because how could you? But you didn’t think about her much anymore, and she fell to the back of your mind. You’d moved on with your life, and you were certain she did, too.

Eventually, you graduated and got a full ride to the University of Iowa because of your amazing talent in soccer. Little did you know that a year later, so would Kate. Of course, hers was for basketball, but the same campus nonetheless.

You lay on your bed, watching old soccer highlights, trying to see if you could predict the plays and the fouls before they happen. You look up as you hear your dorm door open and watch as your two roommates drunkenly stumble in. One of your roommates, Sarah, fumbles with the keys before dropping them and leaning on your other roommate, Devon, doubling over in laughter. You roll your eyes and close your laptop. Guess we’re done with that for now.

“What happened to ‘not getting too drunk’?” You asked with raised eyebrows, helping Devon, who is much more drunk than Sarah, to the bed. She mumbles incoherent words, so you look up at Sarah to translate as you take Devon’s shoes off.

Sarah shrugged. “The football team showed up. They’re the life of the party.” She slurs the last bit and then covers her mouth before rushing to the bathroom.

You shake your head as you turn back to Devon, who’s staring down at you. “You’re hot as fuck.” she mumbles.

“You’re drunk, and you have a girlfriend.” You say. You’re far too familiar with Devon when she’s intoxicated. All she does is flirt with people, whether her girlfriend is in the room or not. Luckily, most people on the Iowa campus know her and who her girlfriend is, and they know to stay away, not engaging or encouraging any of her behavior.

“Cait is so annoying.” Devon whines. “She didn’t wanna come to the party with me.” she throws her head back on the pillows, flinging her legs on the bed when you finish taking her shoes off.

“Or.” You grab her a water bottle from the fridge before opening it and making your way back to her. “She has a game tomorrow and doesn’t wanna play hungover.”

You’d been to a couple of Caitlin’s games, and it’s even more amazing to watch her play in person (she’s also fine as hell, but you’d rather keep your life, so this one stays in your head). And with your brother being on the college baseball team, he’d go to many sports events, whether it be basketball, football, women’s basketball, or baseball itself.

Devon sighs before taking the water from you, practically drinking all of it before handing the mostly empty bottle back to you. You put a blanket over her before making your way to check on Sarah.

Opening the door, you notice that she’s taking her makeup off and her hair down. “Oh, shit, you’re all good then?” you say, surprised to see her standing. She turns to you and nods. “Unlike Ms girl in there, I can hold my liquor.” You laugh and turn to leave.

“Oh, you comin’ to the game tomorrow?” Sarah asked, turning to look at you. You sigh deeply before shaking your head. “Nah, I gotta study.”

“Bitch, you’ve studied for like three days, you’re gonna burn yourself out. You’re allowed a break.” Sarah says in a light-hearted manner but you can tell she wasn’t all the way kidding. She wasn’t all the way wrong either. You’d been studying relentlessly for a test in your business class, and gave yourself little room for a break.

“Come on, a small break isn’t gonna kill you.” Sarah persisted. You sigh defeatedly. “Fine.”

She grins widely, already planning outfits to put you in. You shake your head at her antics, when in reality, it was one of your favorite things about her.

Guess you're going to a game tomorrow.

Big mistake. You completely forgot that it was the first home game of the preseason, so the stadium was packed. The people looked like little bees, swarming around in their yellow and black jerseys.

But you and your roommates made sure to take shots before you left the apartment, so the alcohol eased your nerves a little. Since your brother was a baseball player and your roommates girlfriend was Caitlin fucking Clark, you guys had scored courtside seats, right behind the coaching staff.

You shuffle into the aisle, pulling your short black dress down as you settle in. You sit down, and turn your attention to the court. The teams are doing warm ups, and you watch as they do layups. One girl catches your eye, her dirty blonde hair tied back into her signature braid. She looks painfully familiar, but you can’t put your finger on it.

That is until she turns around to sit on the bench , and you get a good look at her last name.

Martin.

Your jaw drops in shock, as your brain tries to process all the emotions that hit you at once. On one hand, you’re pissed that she left you in the lurch, but on the other hand… she’s Kate, and Kate is your best friend, someone who you once didn’t think you could live without.

She’s sitting in front of you, conversing with Caitlin. You obviously couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you’re an expert at reading lips (thanks to your parents), and you make out the word ‘single’, to which Kate nods her head at.

For whatever reason, this made your heart tingle, hope flashing through your mind. Maybe things could go back to how they were.

You’re pulled out of your thoughts by Sarah nudging your shoulder. “Stop staring, girl, you’re gonna burn a hole into her head.” she teased. You bit your lip as your cheeks flushed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You mutter unconvincingly. You knew you weren’t being subtle, but at this point, you didn’t care. Your best friend, your first actual best friend, was seated no more than 15 feet in front of you.

Sarah rolls her eyes at your stubbornness. “C’mon bro, you're practically drooling.”

You shake your head. “I know her.” is all you say. Sarah shakes her head, giggling at your antics. “Yeah, everyone does. Her high school stats are off the charts.” You nod, although you’re not surprised. You’d watch Kate play in middle school, and she was a beast then, so you could only imagine what a powerhouse she was now.

And you were right. Kate and Caitlin dominated the entire game, piggy-backing off of each other, getting assist after assist. Whether it was Caitlin passing it behind-the-back to Kate, or Kate doing a no-look pass to Caitlin. The stadium was louder than you’ve ever heard it, most of the ruckus coming from the student section as they cheered on the freshman and their beloved Caitlin Clark.

The duo scored a total of 98 points together, and along with the rest of the team, Iowa won with 112 points, beating the opposing team by 67 points. The crowd storms the court, and you sit and watch as thousands of people in yellow and black attire swarm the players.

You and your roommates stay behind, as Devon waits for the people to clear out so she can hug her girlfriend. Eventually, most of the audience cleared out, only a couple of fans lingering. You take a deep breath as your roommates stand and make their way to Caitlin and Kate, who are laughing about something together.

Kate’s laughter is like music to your ears, a sound that almost makes you cry as an overwhelming amount of memories of hearing that beautiful noise every day swarm your brain.

You stand a little farther back as Devon goes up and hugs her girlfriend from behind, eliciting a yelp from a startled Caitlin. Caitlin turns around, hugging her girlfriend before kissing her passionately. You’d be disgusted, but you're far too distracted because at this point, the attention from Kate is on you.

You both stared at each other for a second before she spoke. “Do I know you from somewhere?” she asked. Her voice is just as amazing as you remembered it to be, only slightly deeper. You smiled nervously as you felt tears well in your eyes.

“I’d hope so. My brother used to drive to take us to the Phillips gas station, and you’d force him to buy you Skittles.” You smile as you watch her eyebrows furrow before they light up with excitement, just like they used to.

“No fucki-” she cuts herself off by jumping on you. Your hands go instinctively to catch her, hooking your hands under her thighs. Kate buries her face in your neck, squealing as she squeezes you as if you’ll disappear if she lets go.

“I can’t believe…there’s- how are you here right now?” She asked as she pulled away from your neck. You’re still holding her, and you know for a fact that if you weren’t in shape, you’d be tired, but because of the workouts your coach has you doing, you’re able to hold her with ease.

“After the move, I got into soccer… it turns out I was pretty good, and they gave me a scholarship.” You say, looking up at her. She grins at you. “That’s amazing! After you stopped sending me letters, I assumed you had forgotten about me.”

Your eyebrows furrow at this. “Wait, what? No, I kept sending you stuff, I just stopped getting stuff back, so I just thought you got busy.”

She shakes her head. “I never got any of them.”

“Really?”

“Not one.”

You shake your head as you put her down. “I don’t know why, I wrote to you every day.” Her arms stayed around your neck as your hands navigated to her waist, resting there as you two looked at each other.

Kate bites her lips in thought but shakes her head, pulling you into a hug. “Doesn’t matter. I’m so happy you're here.” Your heart swells at this, hearing those words healed every single ounce of doubt about her that you’d ever had. She didn’t forget about you, she was in the same boat as you, waiting for a response. For years.

“I missed you so fucking much.” You whisper, finally letting tears fall. Kate hears the way your voice shakes and pulls away. She looks at you with sympathy.

“I’m sorry.” She whispers. You shake your head, shaking off her apology. “Not your fault.”

She smiles at you, and you're both looking in each other's eyes for a moment.

Everything freezes. This is the girl you grew up with. The girl who kicked the boy who purposely stepped on your brand new kicks with his muddy shoes. This was the girl who made fun of you for your shitty spelling, the girl who made you feel at home, even while yours was falling apart.

You look in her eyes and you realize home is not always a place. Sometimes home is a person.

Your rock. Your home. Your person.

And she is all of the above.

______________________________

taglist: @bueckerslover @wintersstan @lilia22hicks @fake-intelligences @breeloveschris

#kate martin x fem reader #kate martin #kate martin x reader #wcbb x reader #wcbb #iowa wbb #ncaa wbb #wbb #iowa hawkeyes #patsworks

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pupyuj · 7 months

Text

[cw: cnc (reader receiving ofc), g!p ive, somnophilia, exhibitionism, degradation, humiliation, spanking, slapping, etc. (there’s just… a lot going on)]

been having cnc thoughts with ive so this is what i came up with! i’ll try to get some asks done and ehehe i’ve been working on a new fic for a while but ofc i get the block sdkdhsj.. BUT i’ll get out of this little predicament and hopefully come back w more food for you guys 🥰 i hope this was okay! i’m still tryna get my groove back 🤕🙏

p.s. this is like, long asf for no reason so have fun guys! 😭😘

everybody knew (y/n) (l/n) as ive’s brightest little star that was pretty much perfect in all aspects ☺️ nobody adores you more than your members though! you’re their battery, their personal motivational speaker.. but sometimes there’s a better use for you than simple bear hugs and little kisses.. you were the elder members’ toy, and they all love to use you in different ways… 😵‍💫

yujin gets real busy so she doesn’t have a lot of time to relax and do whatever she wants 🙁 poor girl barely has enough time to just sit and watch her favorite show before she has to leave for another schedule! she’s exhausted, angry, and most importantly, so fucking needy 🤭 so one day, she'd come home all tired and grumpy as she usually was... walks lazily towards the bathroom to get changed and wash her face when she notices an underwear of yours haphazardly thrown on the floor, missing the laundry basket nearby... and ofc yujin gets hard! it was annoying, really! how easy she gets horny whenever she sees you or thinks of you—you were too pretty! soon enough, yujin would sneak inside your room all hot and bothered, more than grateful that you were wearing the shortest shorts and the thinnest tank top in your closet.. fuck, yujin could practically cum at the sight of you alone!! yujin never liked touching you without your permission, but she remembered how you never fail to tell any of the unnies about how they "can use you however and whenever they want" and how "you wouldn't have a problem with it".

you were in deep sleep, so you didn't do or say anything at all when yujin swiftly gets rid of your shorts and it turns out you weren't wearing panties at all! god, you were such a slut—you just figured one of the unnies would come into your room and fuck you silly while you're asleep 🤭🤭 best believe yujin would be fully erect with even just the thought of fucking you in your sleep, so taking off her pants was quite ‘liberating’ in sense! ugdhhfhcbsig baby whimpering as she slowly inserts her cock inside you, practically drooling at how tight your pussy was! 😵‍💫 she gets a little scared when you stirred slightly, but then starts thrusting into you in a steady pace once she realizes you weren’t going to wake up any time soon 🫣 omgomg her whining in your ear bcs it’s been so long since she’s been inside you 🥺 sure it might be more fun if you’re awake (yujin needs a good riding right now actually…) but yujin couldn’t wait for that!! and now because she was thrusting inside you so fast and deep, naturally you’re wake up 😰 but you couldn’t even do anything bcs yujin’s pushed your head down to your pillows, telling you to “not say a fucking word” and “take it” and ofc you do that bcs who were you if not yujin’s stupid little pet?? 😋

biting your lip while yujin’s grip on your hair tightens more and more the closer she gets to her climax, afraid of waking the other members up and disturbing their rest :(( yujin pulling your head up roughly just to get a mix of a moan and pained sound out of you.. oh she fucking loved it 😙 seeing you look at her with both fear and lust in your eyes was what made yujin cum! filling you up to the brim but the two of you were far from finished! you haven’t cum yet after all… so expect yujin to manhandle you for the rest of the night bcs one thing she wants more than fucking the lights out of her pretty doll? control.

now… gaeul doesn’t know why but you had a real knack for pissing her off 😒 she never had too much of a problem with it before bcs most of the time you were just doing it for the camera to establish a cute little dynamic between the two of you for the fans to see! it was all fun and games until one day you went too far and gaeul just snaps 😔 the two of you were fooling around in an empty waiting room—making out and being touchy and all that, then you made a stupid joke which gaeul laughed off at first… but then you started to outright insult her and it wasn’t until gaeul has slapped you to shut you up that she realized that oh!! that was what you wanted out of her!! well, that angry reaction anyway… the whole bending you over in front of a vanity mirror and forcing you to watch yourself get fucked from behind was a surprise, but a welcome one 😋😋 she’d ignore your whining about how your hair, makeup, and outfit’s gonna get ruined, only grinning in response when she sees your shaking your head at her desperately bcs it was all becoming too much :(( her cock and her grip on around the back of your neck.. her other hand holding your hip, keeping you steady while she slams into your walls… and now what gaeul couldn’t ignore were your tears, and the pitiful way you’ve started sobbing ☹️

gaeul would’ve stopped right there (she would never want to hurt you on purpose! well except when she slapped you earlier—)… if it wasn’t for the fact that you subtly started to push back into her when she slowed her thrusts bcs she had been worried 🫣🫣 gaeul looking at you all confused and a bit conflicted bcs you literally were sobbing but you looked back at her, urging her to keep going, to keep ruining you… and you didn’t have to tell gaeul twice for her to do just that! “look at how much of a slut you are for me.” her now gripping your hair and pulling you up so you’d look directly at her through the mirror… oh that condescending look in her eyes mixed w disgust and annoyance.. you could’ve cum right there, really! but you knew gaeul would be disappointed if you did so you just stayed there, bent over and spread open like the good pet that you were 🤭 with how loud the two of you were, you were surprised that nobody has come in and interrupted you.. or maybe the noises drove everyone away! 🤔

eughfhdhc the thought of people outside the room hearing all of this.. somehow the idea did nothing but turn you on even more!! now you were moaning gaeul’s name even louder, calling her all of the names she likes through your sobs and whimpers… eventually gaeul feels you claw at her wrist, and that was when she finally came and with you, too!! 😋 as mean as she was, gaeul will definitely kiss the cheek she slapped an infinite amount of times and apologize 🥺 even though she knows it wasn’t going to be the last time you were gonna pull that stunt on her…

rei loves taking care of you! out of all the members, she was the one you stuck to all the time! everyone knows rei and (y/n) are attached to the hip, the pretty best friends who have the best instagram feeds due to each other being their own personal photographer… basically, you and rei were inseparable! 🥰 she knows you like the back of her hand, inside (😉) and out—all that stuff! the two of you didn’t fuck much, mostly bcs all you wanted to do when you’re together was gossip, make jokes, go to pretty places to take pretty pictures of each other… sure you’ll make out every now and then but ultimately, rei doesn’t touch you unless the mood strikes her 😙 and apparently, you coming home drunk out of your mind after a fun night out with your other friends was a good time for ‘the mood’ to hit rei 😚 her swinging the door open and seeing your flushed face, lazy smile, and messy hair.. she didn’t like the smell of alcohol no matter how fancy it was but when it came from you, it smelled nice enough! and then partnered with the very outfit rei helped put together… well, who could blame her for getting so hard?! by the time she sat you down on the couch, her cock was practically begging to be freed but she ignored that feeling for a while! giving you a glass of water to drink, taking off your jacket for you, caressing your hair and pushing strands away from your face.. god, who allowed you to be this pretty??

as rei slowly left kisses from your collarbone up to your jawline, she wondered if it was okay to take advantage of your dazed state like this.. it had to be, right?? you were the one who said the unnies can do whatever they want to you whenever… and rei wasn’t stupid—she knew you just wanted to get fucked for no reason bcs you were a stupid slut. she knew you better than anyone! in fact, she gets a pass for all of this, she’s your best friend after all 😚 it didn’t take long until she had you laying on the couch, with your pants and underwear removed and legs wide open and ready just for her… rei licking her lips at the sight of your wet pussy clenching around nothing, oh how she couldn’t wait to make your scream her name tonight.. 😋 you were exhausted though, barely processing anything that was happening until you felt something stiff and hard entering your pussy.. panic rushes into you until your eyes met rei’s, and then it was just a wave of emotions flooding through your head… confusion, lust, thrill.. and then even more panic when rei pushes in further, moaning loudly at the feeling.. you don’t know why it pained you so, perhaps you weren’t used to feeling rei inside you or maybe it’s bcs you clearly weren’t in the right state of mind to be doing this but fuck, why did that fact turn you on??! but your mind goes blank when rei decided to just force her entire length inside you, her ears tingling at the sound of your choked moan, wanting to hear more until your voice was gone...

"s-so big..." aww you were so cute underneath rei as you whined and weakly tugged on her shirt 🥺 but ugh as much as this all ‘weirdly’ felt good, you just wanted to have a good shower and sleep till the next afternoon.. but rei was intent on keeping you where you were when she pinned both of your hands above your head, using her other hand to clamp your mouth shut when you started to whine in protest 😤 tells you to “be a good slut” and ofc you didn’t want to disappoint your best friend so laid there and let her use you to her heart’s content! rei needed it anyway, what with everything she’s had on her shoulders as of late.. and you would never pass up on the opportunity to be of use to your unnies! after rei’s breeded you for hours on end, expect to be coddled and babied for the next week 💕 perhaps even spoiled 👀 (maybe it’s time i write sugar mommy rei actually…)

now wony… wonyoung’s got a lot to express, okay?! between living up to her ‘perfect idol’ image, schedules, and practices, you can’t exactly blame her when she suddenly just decides she wants to pull you to a corner and fuck you like it’s her last! every time she fucks you there’s always a sense of urgency in her actions… as if the world will explode if fucks you a second longer than she planned 😗 sometimes you feel like just another ‘activity’ in wonyoung’s calendar, there would be a specific date, time, and location when she wants to play with you and truthfully, it makes you feel shitty! she makes you feel shitty! god, the things she does and says to you??? you’re so lucky you’re such a slut that’s super into being practically bullied and humiliated… otherwise you’d be crying while she fucked you (but she’d probably love that) 😙 that ‘urgency’ makes wonyoung do a little of risky things.. especially if she’s desperate and wants to get off to let her frustrations out! all of ive would be alone in a waiting room and she’d literally daydream about fucking you right where you sat and laughed with yujin and rei… then she’d send leeseo out on an adventure (the baby will NOT see this fucking shit AT ALL in her life, wonyoung will make sure of it) before asking you, from across the goddamn room, to suck her cock 😀😀 there would be a pause, then the change in the atmosphere would make you shiver as wonyoung held your confused stare with a confident glare of her own… her ego only getting bigger when yujin nudges you and tells you to obey wony with a knowing smirk… evil, evil girls 🫣

ofc you were scared so you’d be frozen in your seat, trying to figure out if they were all joking or not but nope, they were 100% serious!! frustrated, wony takes up the space in between you and rei, not even giving you a minute to form a thought before lifting her skirt up, pulling her dick out of her compression shorts, and grabbing you by the back of your head 😵‍💫 “you know i don’t like repeating myself, (y/n)-ah.. nor do i like being denied of my pleasure…” and then she was balls deep inside your throat 🤤🤤 she simply loved how your mouth fit around her cock like a glove, making sure to control your pace so that your lips drag on her entire length.. finding joy in the way you’d gag and choke whenever she hits the back of your throat… even your tight grip on her thigh added to the fun—your tears too, ofc!! she’s sick, smiling wickedly while she listens to your muffled moans and your attempts to breathe but failing.. wony would feel bad but you clearly liked this! you weren’t protesting, you weren’t tapping out, you weren’t looking around trying to ask the other unnies for help… in fact, gaeul had already pulled her phone out and started recording you but you didn’t seem to mind! 🫣🫣

“f-fuck, really..? in front of your u-unnies and in a p-place where—oh, shit..!—we could easily be caught?? you’re disgusting…” you can’t see wonyoung but you can just imagine a psychotic expression on her pretty face while she said those words.. nothing makes her more happy than knowing that she can do literally anything and everything to you whenever and wherever… “where next, hm..? o-on stage? in front of dives? y-you wanna show them.. ahh… who you really are?” wonyoung, as well as the rest of the unnies, would burn the entire world if anybody else saw you like they do but it was a nice tease… pulling you up briefly so you could answer.. you frantically shaking your head no bcs the thought genuinely mortified you, then wony laughing at how panicked you looked bcs you knew that if she was pissed enough she would terrorize you during a fansign or something… after a while, she’d be done playing games—moving your head up and down so fast that you can barely keep up ☹️ she’s so desperate to cum it’s not even funny!! and when she did, she came a lot 😋 yujinnie making sure that every single drop is not wasted so she keeps your head down since wony had gone limp, they’re all cruel really 😣😣 but wonyoung, being a gentlewoman, is the one who cleans you up and returns you to your presentable state! becomes super soft bcs she knows she goes overboard sometimes 💔

jiwon is one strange case! she’s lowkey a perv and touches you inappropriately all the time but when it comes to actually fucking… well, suddenly she’s stupid 😭😭 either way, when you told the unnies they can use you… jiwon got more than a few ideas as to how exactly she’ll use you, but never had the courage to do it all! ☹️ but then you’ll find yourself in a situation that completely mirrors that one drunken experience with rei… this time around, jiwon came home completely wasted! she and yujin apparently had too much fun and now you were left to take care of the blondie 😙 she’s slurring, she’s stumbling, falling all over… can’t even take a step without needing to lean towards the wall to support herself 😭 she was GONE gone 💔 and when you hurried over to her side to help her, jiwon catches a whiff of your perfume and her entire demeanor completely changes!! 🫣 “w-what is that perfume you’re wearing..? smells nice… can i…” then she’s hugging you?? face down on your chest, sniffing your shirt, while her hands groped your ass?? “unnie.. come on don’t do this here… we need to get you to your room so you can rest up..” but nope jiwon refuses to listen! your scent alone was enough for her cock to stiffen right up…

first things first though—she has to feel how tight you are with her fingers 😵‍💫😵‍💫 subtly unzipping your jean shorts and slipping her hand inside your panties… literally moaning at how soaked you were, trailing her fingers along your folds as she leaves sloppy wet kisses on your neck.. god it was as if jiwon was completely hypnotized by your scent, going as far as to inhaling your hair and getting her boxers all wet bcs of all the precum that was leaking out of her… being so weak that you don’t do much when she presses your back against the wall 🫣 now rubbing your clit gently.. who knows how many marks she has left on your neck and chest at this point?? she doesn’t care! and jiwon barely bats an eyelash when she hears a pained squeak from you as she suddenly inserts two long fingers inside in your cunt 😵‍💫 she could practically cum at how your tightness just sucks her fingers in.. you’re squirming but you were clenching all around her! and she doesn’t miss the way you’re slightly grinding on her hand.. so she continues her work, fingering you in the best way she knows how… her free hand roaming anywhere she could touch until she grabs a fistful of your hair so you could look at her before she crashes her lips into yours 😋 jiwonie kissing you feverishly and getting so lost in your taste that she doesn’t notice you tightly gripping her wrist bcs she was going too fast… not that she’d care if she noticed anyway 🤭

“mmhn.. need to feel you on me…” jiwon moans in between kisses.. her being so knuckle-deep inside you that it hurts a little but jiwon showed absolutely no signs of stopping! she needs to hear you scream her name, needs to see you cream all over her hand… you looked so pretty with your neck all marked up and a bit of your lower lil bleeding bcs jiwon bit you while kissing you… nobody can blame her for pushing you over the edge to the extreme and making you cry as you came!! 🫣 jiwonie shushing you bcs you ended up being so loud, giggling a little seeing your tears and your swollen lips 🤭 definitely makes you clean up the mess you made on her hand, barely giving you time to react before she’s dragging you to her bedroom by your shirt, more than ready to ruin you until sunrise 🤤

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just-jordie-things · 8 months

Text

let the light in - ryomen sukuna

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ 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.

#sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna ryomen x reader #ryomen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna imagine #sukuna imagine #jjk imagine #jujutsu kaisen imagine

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