āOwww, kinktober is over šššā
AS IF YOU DIDNāT READ SMUT ALL YEAR ROUND, YOU WHOREEEEEE
HEY HEYš«£
I'd rather be in outer space šø
Aqua Utopiaļ½ęµ·ć®åŗć§čØę¶ćē“”ć

ellievsbear

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Monterey Bay Aquarium

if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
Three Goblin Art
Cosmic Funnies

ē„ę„ / Permanent Vacation

titsay

PR's Tumblrdome
RMH

ā

Kiana Khansmith

oozey mess

No title available
Jules of Nature

Janaina Medeiros
šŖ¼
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@salemsuccss
āOwww, kinktober is over šššā
AS IF YOU DIDNāT READ SMUT ALL YEAR ROUND, YOU WHOREEEEEE
HEY HEYš«£
ššš šššššššā¦ ššš šššššš ššššššš.
pairings: rodrick heffley x fem! bandmate reader
summary: what starts as a sarcastic ākissing lessonā in rodrickās garage turns into real flirting...
warings: teasing/flirting, kissing, tension, sweet angst, humor, stealing, fluff.
notes: was rotting in my drafts and needed majoring editing, finally finished it though so yay!! slighty proof read and lowercase intended!
wc: 2.1k
rodrick heffley had a reputation that came before he even picked up a drumstick... lazy, loud, sarcastic, and somehow always acting like nothing mattered.
which is why it was infuriating that the one thing he suddenly did take seriously was you.
āagain,ā he said flatly, leaning back against the garage wall. āyouāre overthinking it.ā
you wiped your palms on your skirt, warmth rising up your neck. āiām not overthinking it. youāre just⦠not explaining it right.ā
rodrick snorted. āitās kissing. not rocket science.ā
vampires with blood red straps. reblog.
Heheheheh
Read Between My Thighs
Synopsis: your plan is to avoid your rival, now that youāve both been hired as assistant librarians, to minimise the chances of getting into hours long debates and committing murder. the problem is that he's everywhere ā helping you carry heavy boxes, scoffing at your choice of literature, eating you out in the back corner between the We Shouldn't Do This and the We'll Never Speak of This Again shelves. in all the bickering and orgasms, you're left with one question:
is the smell of books an aphrodisiac?
EPILOGUE - this marks the end of the librarian!nanami fic. thank you so much for keeping up and for reading. you all have the patience of saints. your love and support for this series means the world to me, and I will forever be grateful to each and every one of you for loving this version of Nanami. I love you all.
Warnings: no spoilers (contains smut, fluff, and angst) :) Word Count: 5.3k Canto IV - Masterlist
āOh, Kento,ā you whisper, hugging your coat tighter around yourself. āI wish you could be here.ā
Leaves crunch under your boots. You bury your face a little deeper in your scarf.Ā
Campus smells the same as you remembered it. Thatās the first thing you notice. Cold air, damp bark, something faintly sweet from all the coffee shops that have popped up on and around the area.Ā
sex with a stoner
fratboy!choso x bestfriend!reader
synopsis: your stoner best friend choso and you are deeeep in sexual tension, you are his girl, but not really his girl. cuddling, forehead kisses, being glued to eachothers hip, it eventually simmers down until neither of you can take it anymore. (my favourite work i've done so far)
content warning: smut, p in v, angst (not really), fluff, comfort.)
wc: 16k || art creds: @/einrvji
choso kamo is the kind of boy people notice without realizing theyāre staring. heās not loud, never one to demand a roomās attention, but something about him pulls you in, the lazy grace of someone whoās always just a little bit stoned and completely at peace with himself.
he throws the best parties on campus, the kind that arenāt just about getting drunk or high, but about the vibe. incense burning in the corner, led lights set to red or purple, trap playing softly over speakers. and yet, youāre the only one who really knows him.
you, the sweet girl who never misses a single one of his parties. the one always curled up next to him on the couch with a red solo cup of something you can barely taste, your legs draped over his lap, your cheek pressed to his shoulder. itās always been like this. ever since freshman year, when you met him during that stupid icebreaker event on campus that neither of you wanted to go to.
somehow, youād ended up next to him. not even talking at first. just being. and then heād pulled one earbud out and offered it to you without saying anything, and youād heard frank oceanās āivyā playing soft and crackly from his phone. youād smiled at him, and heād smiled back. just a little.
after that, it was like something clicked. you didnāt have to try with choso. you just existed in each otherās space like you were meant to.
youāre sweet, outgoing, a little flirty, always the first one to compliment someoneās outfit or remember their birthday. people love you for your light, your laughter, the way you make everyone feel seen.
but when it comes to closeness, to real comfort? thatās reserved for choso.
"y/n ran her hand through her silky, long blonde hair while she looked her skinny and small body in the mirror-" Bitch who?
When Iām reading a smut fic and tryna figure out what position theyāre in
ššš šš ššš šššš ź© paige bueckers āµ
free palestine carrd šµšø decolonize palestine site šµšø how you can help palestine | FREE PALESTINE!
ššššššš mom!paige! the life of paige bueckers, her lovely wife and their two kids -- dax and jelly bueckers
šššššššš descriptions of motherhood, temper tantrums, angst at some points, more fluffy than anything.
šššš ššššš 3.3k
į° šš'š ššššš | this is a new au i want to start!!! ive always loved the concept of mom paige and now IM OBSESSED. i could not decide between girl mom paige, or boy mom paige then realized... i have free will! why not have both??
pls send in your thoughts about this AU so far!!! id love to hear them<3
You learn the sound of your footsteps before you learn the sound of the house.
Daxās footsteps are fast and uneven, like heās always half a second away from tripping over himself. Jellyās are lighter and more chaotic, punctuated by sudden stops when she decides she is done walking. Paige moves differently, measured even when sheās rushing, every step purposeful and familiar in a way that makes your body relax before your brain catches up.
Right now, itās all three.
So good a bitch shed a tear or two
Rent-A-Boyfriend!
Pairing: Fake BF!Ryomen Sukuna x Single!Fem!Reader (Fake Relationship/Enemies to Lovers)
Synopsis: At your sister's wedding, you decide to rent a temporary boyfriend for the evening to avoid the stares and annoying questions about why you're still single a year after your break up. Your fake BF isn't the nicest in the world, but he's hot and knows how to play pretend...though it isn't easy to do so with a guy you despise. You're more than prepared to never see this fool again after the wedding, but when you run into your ex and emotions run high, your fake BF takes it upon himself to make due on his highly-rated "skills" in his occupation.
Warnings: 18+ (MDNI); No Curse AU; Fake Relationship Trope; Fake Wedding Date Trope; Asshole!Sukuna; Some Angst & Heartbreak; Alcohol Consumption; Drunk Sex; Enemies to Lovers; Mutual Oral (Giving & Receiving); Hotel Sex; Mating Press; Doggystyle; Degradation + Praise; Name-Calling; MDom!Sukuna x Fsub!Reader; Reader Cums 2x; Sloppy Kissing; Sukuna Has Tattoos & Piercings; Creampie
Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!
Writer's Note: I need to write more Sukuna shit fr. This one was HOT. I hope y'all think so too! Art credits above go to aliyartss! Her work is TOO FUCKING GOOD!! š¤ -Jazz
***********
"Sukuna, can you please stop picking your teeth?" you exasperatedly whisper.
The pink-haired hunk in his tailored and freshly-ironed suit gives you a glower that could damn well set fire to the pristine, white tablecloth table you sit at with him. "What?" he scoffs. "I had spinach in it. You want me to walk around with shit in my teeth?"
Trueform!Sukuna x Bride!Reader
CW: none, all fluff, bit of OOC for Sukuna, softie for his bride
|| Ryoman Sukuna is the King of Curses, feared wherever he goes. Stories of him spread throughout the countries. Including your village. Youāve never had a chance to see him yourself, but the stories donāt help your anxiety. He had personally picked you out of thousands of women to be his wife. You try to ask around about him, but no one will say a thing about what heās like!
WC: 4.7k
*This is inspired by Bridgerton, specifically Queen Charlotte, so you're going to see a lot of similarities with that I've been dying to make a oneshot of Sukuna based on it
The sound of carriage wheels grinding over the packed dirt road was the only thing daring to disturb the heavy silence between you and your brother. Every turn of the wheel felt like a countdown, each bump in the road a punctuation mark carved into a sentence you had not agreed to write. You kept your gaze angled stubbornly toward the window, watching a blur of unfamiliar countryside pass by.
Before you had left home the women help of the house draped you in the finest robes you had, lifted from silk-wrapped boxes. Layers of shimmering fabric, deep crimson, midnight black, and soft gold thread, were draped across your shoulders, fitted and pinned with care. The fabric pooled around you like a tide of luxury you neither desired nor trusted. Makeup was dusted across your cheeks with the gentlest touch. A brush so soft it barely whispered against your skin. A hint of color to your lips. A subtle glow at your cheekbones to accentuate your face, to sharpen the illusion that you were composed. Your hair decorated with jewel pressed hair accessories, ruby, obsidian, goldāwere slid into place one by one. Each pin felt heavier than the last, a reminder that you were being adorned for display, not celebration.
āAre you planning to remain silent for the entire journey?ā Your brother asked at last.
Your chin tilted towards him a fraction. āIs there something you wish for me to say?ā
āPerhaps something more than sulking,ā he answered. āYou know⦠there are far worse men to be engaged to.ā
āYes, I could be engaged to the most horrifying man on the planet.ā You replied sarcastically.
āYou are dramatic.ā
āI,ā you declared with defiant grace, āam doomed. And I believe my reaction is quite measuredācalm, evenāgiven the circumstances.ā
A week ago you had been enjoying the full comfort of your homeāyour books, your music, your independence. Now you sat in a carriage bound toward your own wedding, toward a husband you had never met, toward a kingdom of curses and shadows and danger. Toward becoming⦠Queen of Curses.
The carriage jerked to a stop so suddenly you nearly tumbled forward. Your brother reached out instinctively, steadying you before pushing the curtain aside.
āWe are here,ā he said softly.
Here.
The word wrapped cold fingers around your spine.
Outside the window, towering gates loomedācarved stone riddled with ancient markings, pulsing faintly with a dull red glow. Old magic. Old stories. A warning wrapped in a welcome. Through the gates, a long path led up to the palace. But calling it a palace felt⦠inadequate.
The doors of the carriage opened with a low groan, letting in a breath of colder, heavier airāthe kind that clung to the skin as though testing your strength.
A person with a sharp, snow-white bob interrupted by a single streak of vivid red, their appearance striking enough to momentarily stun her into stillness. They were small, almost childlike in size, yet not in bearing. Their posture was impeccable, their chin tilted with a quiet, ancient confidence. Wrapped in thick white ceremonial robes, their arms folded neatly behind their back, they carried themself like someone carved from old tradition and older magic.
They bowed deeply before extending a pale hand toward you.
āMy lady,ā they said, voice smooth and poised, neither warm nor cold, simply certain. āIt is an honor. Lord Ryomen Sukuna has been expecting you and asked me to attend to you.ā
Their eyesāunreadable, unblinkingālifted to meet hers.
āI am Uraume.ā
You hesitated only a heartbeatālong enough for doubt to curl cold fingers around her throat. Then you placed your hand into Uraumeās as they helped you step down from the carriage. Their grip was surprisingly steady, deceptively strong, as though their slender frame was merely a vessel for something far older.
You instinctively turned to your brother for comfort, only to see him still in the carriage, and looked at him with confusion.
āWait,ā you whispered, confusion knitting your brows. āYou⦠youāre still in the carriage.ā
He opened his mouth, closed it, then tried again. āIāā
His voice cracked. He cleared his throat harshly, as though forcing the weakness back down where it could not betray him further.
āYou are to stay here,ā he managed, keeping his tone steady with effort. āIt is your home now⦠mine is back at the house.ā
āYouāre not staying with me?ā You asked, the timid waver in your voice cutting straight into him. You had not meant for it to sound so childlike, so desperately small. But the fear bled through anyway. It couldnāt be helped; you were in a new place with a soon-to-be husband youād never met before. He was your only family left, and he was leaving you here with strangers and a monster.
āI will return for the wedding,ā he murmured. āBut until then⦠You must be brave.ā
Behind you, Uraume waited patiently, hands still folded, expression unreadable.
Ahead lay the palace, its cursed air thrumming through the courtyard like a heartbeat you could not escape.
Your brother seemed to sense the moment slipping from them like sand.
āGo on,ā he urged, voice raw. āBefore I cannot let you.ā
Your breath caught. You reached out one last time, and he caught your hand immediately, gripping it tightātoo tight, as though memorizing the shape of your fingers before he lost them forever.
āI love you,ā you breathed.
His face finally crumpled, just a fraction. āAnd I you. Always.ā
A moment later, Uraume stepped closer, waiting to guide you into the depths of your new life.
Your brother gently released your hand.
And the carriage door closed.
With one last look at the carriage disappearing down the road, you exhaled slowly, gathering whatever remained of your courage and turning toward Uraume.
āI am ready,ā you murmured, even if the words trembled slightly.
Uraume tilted their head in acknowledgment. āVery well, my lady. Please follow.ā
They led you toward the grand staircaseāeach step carved from polished black stone that glimmered faintly with crimson veins. The staircase was impossibly tall, stretching upward like the spine of some sleeping beast. Every step felt heavier than the last, your robes catching the faint breeze that rose like a sigh from the palace itself.
Unseen by you, a pair of eyes watched from deep within the shadows cast by the archways.
Eyes belonging to Ryomen Sukuna.
He stood half-hidden behind a pillar etched with ancient sigils, arms crossed loosely as he observed the delicate rise and fall of your breath, the stiffness in your shoulders, the grief you tried so desperately to swallow. His gaze traveled from the jeweled pins in your hair to the fine silk pooling at your anklesālingering not on your adornments, but on the fire flickering beneath her fear.
His lip curled in a smirk.
So this was the human they had chosen.
Brave enough to lift her chin⦠terrified enough to try hiding it.
Interesting.
Very interesting.
He slipped deeper into the shadows, melting into them like a wraith before you could so much as sense him.
You, oblivious to the hungry eyes following your ascent, clutched your robes and continued climbing.
āUraume,ā you said after a moment, voice quiet, āmay I ask you something?ā
āYou may,ā Uraume replied, their tone as steady and measured as ever. They did not look back, simply kept guiding you deeper into the palace.
You took a small breath.
āWould you tell me about him? Lord Ryomen Sukuna?ā
Uraume did glance at you thenājust briefly. Their eyes were pale, cold, unreadable.
āHe is⦠the King of Curses,ā they answered.
You blinked. āā¦Yes, I know that. And?ā
Silence sat between you two for a heartbeat, unsettling and heavy.
Uraumeās steps did not falter as they resumed leading her forward. āAnd that is what he is.ā
āThat is what he is,ā You repeated, confused and frustrated, ānot who he is.ā
Uraumeās expression didnāt shiftānot even a flicker of sympathy or discomfort. āMy lady, to distinguish between the two is⦠unnecessary.ā
You frowned. āUnnecessary? I am meant to marry him.ā
āYes,ā Uraume said simply, as though this were the plainest fact in the world.
āSo thenāwhat manner of person is he? What am I meant to expect?ā
The faintest hum escaped Uraume, thoughtful yet evasive.
āYou expect what everyone must expect of him,ā they said. āPower. Authority. Judgment.ā
āThat isnāt an answer,ā You muttered, heat creeping into your voice.
āIt is the most truthful one you will receive at this time.ā
You opened your mouth to protest, but Uraume continued before you could.
āLord Sukuna chooses what parts of himself he reveals. No one speaks for him. No one presumes to.ā
You slowed your steps just slightly, staring at the back of Uraumeās pristine white robes. āSo you will tell me nothing of him?ā
āI have told you the only thing that is constant,ā Uraume replied.
āAnd that isā¦?ā
Uraume paused, turning just enough that their unsettlingly calm gaze met yours. āThat he is power in its purest form.ā
Y/nās breath hitch. āā¦And to be his wife?ā
āIs to stand beside that power.ā
Her stomach twisted. āOr beneath it?ā
Uraume did not answer.
Not with words.
The rest of the walk carried a heavy, uneasy silence. The hallways twisted into one another, lit by torches that flickered in strange patterns, their flames bending as though shaped by unseen hands. You kept glancing at Uraume, searching for any trace of humanity or empathy in their expression, but they gave you nothingānot even the courtesy of false comfort.
At last, Uraume stopped before a set of lacquered doors carved with intricate markings. They pushed them open, and warm golden light spilled out into the hallway.
Inside, a room full of women awaited.
They rose at once, elegant, poised, and dressed in servant robes. Some held measuring cords. Others carried boxes of folded silk. Still others stood ready with perfumes and cosmetics. Their bows were deep and rehearsed.
āMy lady,ā several murmured at once.
You swallowed. The room felt too warm, too bright after the corridors of cursed stone. Uraume guided you inside with a single gesture, and a pair of attendants gently ushered you toward an enormous mirror framed in polished obsidian.
Your own reflection stared back at youāadorned, frightened, breathtakingly small against the enormity of what awaited.
āPlease stand still, my lady,ā one of the seamstresses said softly. āWe are here to prepare the robes for your wedding ceremony.ā
The moment you stood centered before the mirror, the women descended upon you with quiet grace. Fabric was lifted. Pins clicked. Silk slid over your fingers like cool water. No one spoke unless it was to ask you to raise an arm or turn slightly.
Behind you, Uraume stood perfectly straight, hands folded behind their back, watching with the stillness of carved marble. Two additional servants lingered near the wallāready, waiting, silent.
You kept her gaze fixed on your reflection, fighting the urge to crumble.
If Uraume would not answer her questions, perhaps these women would.
āExcuse me,ā you said gently, directing your voice toward the seamstress closest to you. āMay I ask⦠how long have you served here?ā
The woman blinked, needle paused mid-stitch. āSince I was a girl, my lady.ā
āAndā¦ā You wet your lips nervously. āDo you⦠do you know him? Truly? The man I am to marry?ā
There was a beat of hesitationāsmall, but unmistakable.
The seamstress swallowed, eyes lowering. āWe know of him, my lady.ā
āThat is not the same,ā You whispered.
Another woman approached from behind, adjusting the fall of your sleeve.
āHis presence is felt throughout the palace,ā she said cautiously. āOne does not need to see him to know him.ā
Your heart hiccupped. āIs he cruel?ā
Silence fell like a dropped veil.
The seamstress resumed stitching with renewed focus, as though the question itself were dangerous. Another attendant pretended not to hear. A third reached for a box of gold-threaded embroidery with trembling fingers.
Uraume did not move, but their voice slid through the room like a blade wrapped in silk.
āMind your tasks,ā they said softly. Too softly.
The attendants bowed their heads and obeyed.
Your shoulders stiffened. You turned your eyes back to your reflection. You hated how small you looked. How unprepared. How alone.
But the women were not done speakingānot fully.
Once Uraumeās gaze drifted toward the window, one of the older seamstresses leaned in, voice a mere breath near your ear.
āHe notices everything, my lady,ā she whispered.
Your blood turned to ice. āNotices?ā
āHe watches. Always.ā
Before you could ask what that meant, the woman straightened quickly and returned to her work, her lips sealed shut.
Uraume stepped closer then, their presence quiet but suffocating. āMy lady,ā they said, āhold still. The robes must be perfect.ā
You obeyed, but your heart beat wildly in your chest.
None of them would truly answer. None of them would speak plainly. None of them would tell you what you were marrying into.
"Uraume," You speak up causing them to straighten themselves up. "You are with me always, yes?"
"Yes, my lady, always." Uraume confirmed.
The certainty in their tone was both reassuring and deeply unsettling.
You shifted your weight, glanced toward the far corner of the roomāthen back at Uraume. āIncluding in the lavatory?ā
A beat of silence.
One of the seamstresses dropped a pin.
āIn the⦠lavatory?ā you repeated, cheeks heating despite everything. āDo I at least get privacy then? I need to use the lavatory.ā
Uraume nods in understanding. "Withdraw, our lady needs privacy." They tell the servants in the room, and they all rush to leave the room as quick as possible, including Uraume.
The room was finally empty. Silent. Still.
Too still.
You waited only a heartbeatātwo at mostābefore your hands moved on their own. Gathering the heavy skirts of your bridal silks, you stepped toward the far end of the chamber where a set of draped doors led to an adjoining balcony.
Your pulse hammered against your throat.
If you stayed, every question would remain unanswered. Every step would be chosen for you. Every breath watched. Every movement measured, weighed, judged by those who served a king you did not knowāand one who terrified you beyond reason.
But if you could just⦠sneak away. Just for a moment. Just long enough to breathe without being observed.
Or perhapsā long enough to escape.
You slipped through the balcony doors, letting them hush shut behind you. Cool air kissed your cheeks, carrying the scent of something wild and greenāgardens, sprawling and shadowed beneath the palace walls.
Beyond the stone railing, you saw them: a labyrinth of hedges, obsidian-bricked pathways, shimmering pools reflecting torchlight like scattered stars. The gardens stretched wide, unguarded, inviting.
You glanced back toward the room. Still empty.
Good.
Clutching your skirts, you gathered every ounce of courage and swung a leg over the low balcony wall.
Your shoes touched the packed earth below with a soft thud.
No alarms. No guards. No Uraume appearing behind you like a ghost with impeccable manners.
The garden lay open, vast, andāif you were luckyāfull of hidden exits.
You took a breath and hurried forward, the jeweled pins in your hair clicking softly with each step.
Twisting paths coiled before you. You ducked beneath low arches of hanging vines, brushed past rows of glowing flowers whose petals pulsed faintly with cursed energy, and scanned the perimeter walls for any cracks, archways, hidden doorsāanything that might grant escape.
The night wind rustled the leaves, sending a shiver through the hedges.
You moved faster.
Down a side path. Around a carved fountain. Through a gate of intertwining branches.
Every shadow made your heart leap. Every whisper of wind sounded like footsteps.
And yetā still no one stopped you.
Still no guards appeared.
Still no Uraume.
You reached the far edge of the gardensābreathless, desperate, emboldened. A stone wall rose before you, tall enough to discourage casual climbing⦠but perhaps not impossible with determination. Vines and branches decorated the wall; you carefully paced in front of the wall looking at each branch and vine. Thinking to yourself which would be the best way to get over and out.
You stepped closer and placed your fingertips lightly against one of the thicker vines. It felt sturdyāold, yes, but strong. You gave it a cautious tug. It barely budged.
Good.
Very good.
You lifted your skirts, tucking a handful of silk over your arm to free your legs. āAll right,ā you whispered to yourself, trying to steady your breathing. āOne foothold at a time. Donāt look down. Donāt think too much.ā
Someone then clears their throat behind you. "My lady," follows a deep voice that certainly wasn't Uraume's nor any of the servant women you met.
You stiffened, turning your head just enough to see the speaker.
A man stood there, cloaked and hooded, the shadows concealing the upper half of his face. He wasnāt delicate or slight like Uraume. Noāthis one had broad shoulders beneath the cloak, the build of someone who lifted things heavier than embroidery scissors or ceremonial lanterns. His posture was casual, almost annoyingly so, as though finding you halfway up a wall was a normal evening occurrence.
"You need some help with that?"
"I am quite fine, thank you." You say quickly still trying to climb the wall. "You can go back inside and wait with all the other gawkers."
The man chuckledāa rich, amused sound that vibrated in your ribs. "I will, but first, just curious. What are you doing?" He asks watching your sad attempt at climbing the wall.
You then hit your hand on a thorn and shake your hand in pain. "Nothing," you tell him quickly, unbothered.
He made a noise of disbelief. "Well, you're doing something."
"I am not."
"You are,"
"Am not."
"You are!" he insisted, sounding far too entertained for someone stumbling upon royal scandal.
You step down from the branch you were on, unable to get a good hold onto anything that could get you over. Looking back over at your options while surprisingly still entertaining the man behind you.
"If you must know, I'm trying to find the best way to climb over the garden wall." You explain to him.
"Yeah? What for?" He asks.
You sigh, you should be busy escaping, but this seems to be the first real conversation you've had with someone since you arrived. It felt nice.
"I think he may be a beast,"
"A beast?"
"Or a troll."
"Who are we talking about?" He asks.
You let out an exasperated laugh. "Well, that is impertinent. None of your business."
Despite your attitude you decided to still tell him. "Lord Sukuna," you say. "No one will speak of him. No one. He is clearly a beast or a troll."
"Ah, I understand." He speaks.
You then see the perfect way to get out. "You know if I grab there- Yes! You could help me by lifting me up." And with that you begin to climb again.
"Just one question, you don't like beasts or trolls? What he looks like matters?" He asks.
The question puzzled you. Oddly phrased. Almost⦠probing.
But you were too close to escaping to dwell on it.
"I don't care what he looks like. What I don't like is not knowing." You answered honestly. You then gesture for him to grab your waist. "Now, here. Just take a hold here. With a lift I believe I can make it over the garden wall."
He stared at you. "You want me to lift you over the wall so you can escape?"
"That is what I said, yes." You snapped, frustration bubbling as you flapped your hands at him like a very dignified, very annoyed bird.
"Won't they notice you're missing?"
"Yeah, well, I'll worry about that later. Now please, hurry. Only need a little help."
He chuckles. "I have no intention of helping you."
You froze, mid-gesture, arm still half-extended. Slowly, your hand dropped. Your brows knitted together as you turned toward him with the stiff, offended posture of a noblewoman personally wronged by the gods themselves.
āHow dare you refuse?ā you demanded, marching up to him until you stood a mere breath away. āI am a lady in distress; you refuse to help a lady in distress?ā
His smile deepened.
āI refuse,ā he said calmly, āwhen that lady in distress is trying to climb a wall so she doesnāt have to marry me.ā
Your lips parted.
Your heart stopped.
And he took one small, confident step toward youāclosing the space between your bodiesāforcing you to tilt your chin up to meet his gaze as the hood fell back just enough for moonlight to reveal the sharp, devastating lines of his face.
"Hello, Y/n," He greets surprisingly warmly. "I am Ryomen Sukuna."
āIām soāā you started, breath hitching, words tangling uselessly in your throat. āI apologizeāI didnātāI meant no disresāā
But the words collapsed into a strangled whisper.
Instead, instinct took over and you bowed. Deeply. Too deeply. In a frantic, mortified display of reverence that only made his amusement grow.
āMy Lord,ā you managed, bowing even lower.
He clicked his tongue.
āNo.ā
His hand moved in a blurānot violent, but inevitableāand caught your chin. His fingers were cool, firm, commanding as they curled beneath your jaw and pulled your face back up toward his.
āNone of that,ā Sukuna murmured.
Your breath trembled.
He angled your chin higher, guiding your gaze to meet his fully. His eyes were impossibleāburning, ancient, hungryābut not cruel. He looked at you as though peeling back layers only he could see, as though searching for the fire heād glimpsed in you when youād tried to escape.
āLook at me,ā he said softly.
You did. You couldnāt do anything else.
He smirkedāslow, devastating, pleased.
āThere,ā he murmured. āMuch better.ā
His thumb brushed once, lightly, along the line of your chinānot kind, but deliberate, a touch made to test how you would react to him.
āYou bow like youāre afraid of being punished,ā he said.
āIāā Your voice cracked. āI thought⦠I assumedāā
āThat Iād strike you?ā he finished.
You swallowed hard. "I'm not sure, My Lord."
"Sukuna." He corrects instantly. "For you, I am just Sukuna."
The way he said itāquiet, personal, as if offering you something few ever receivedāmade your breath catch.
You allowed yourself to relax just slightly, the rigid fear in your shoulders easing. Your lips curved into the smallest, timid little smile. A peace offering. A nervous attempt at civility. A sign that you were trying.
He didnāt smile back.
But something in his eyes softened. Barely. Subtly.
He kept holding your chin, his fingers steady and warm, his thumb brushing a slow, thoughtful stroke across your skin. The intimacy of the gesture startled youāmore tender than you expected from a man of such terrible legend.
Heat crept up your neck, blooming across your cheeks. You looked down, eyelashes fluttering, the sudden shyness catching you off guard.
He didnāt release you.
His thumb traced your chin again, slower this time, deliberate, as though testing how flustered you could become before you stepped backāor leaned in.
You forced yourself to glance back up at him.
āWhat?ā you asked softly, shyly. āWhy are you staring?ā
He scoffed softly, that smirk curving like a secret he hadnāt meant to reveal, before turning his head away from youāalmost shyly, almost boyishly, had he been any other man.
āThey didnāt tell me youād be this beautiful.ā
His tone was low, almost grudging.
āYou may be too beautiful to marry me. People will talk, given that Iām a troll.ā
Your laugh slipped out before you could stop itālight, surprised, real.
You clapped a hand over your mouth, horrified at your own boldness, but his smile only widened.
āA troll,ā you echoed with another soft giggle.
āHm. That was your word,ā he teased, flicking a glance your way.
Then, more casually but with unmistakable intent, he added:
āUraume told me you were asking about me.ā
Heat climbed your neck instantly. āIāwellāthey were being veryāvery evasive.ā
He stepped closer, eyes warm with curiosity rather than menace. āSoā¦ā His voice dipped into a deeper register. āWhat would you like to know?ā
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. Every thought collided in your skull at once.
āWell, that is quite, uhā¦ā Your hands fluttered uselessly. āYou see, Iāā
He arched a brow, amused. āYes?ā
You finally let out a breath, gathering your courage like fabric in your fists.
āI want to know everything,ā you said at last.
The humor in his expression stilled.
Not goneā
but transformed.
His gaze sharpened with something hotter, something intent, something that made your breath catch. He looked at you like those words were more intimate than a touch. Like your curiosity itself pleased him.
āEverything,ā he repeated slowly, tasting the word. āAmbitious.ā
You lifted your chin. āI wonāt marry a stranger.ā
He stepped even closer, until his presence wrapped around you like heat.
āAnd you think knowing me,ā he murmured, āwill make me less frightening?ā
āI think,ā you whispered, āthat knowing you will make you real.ā
āWell,ā he said lightly, āif you truly wish to know me, I suppose we should begin with the basics.ā
You blinked, surprised he was indulging you.
āI am a skilled archer. I thought myself everything I know about jujutsu and cursed energy. No master. No tutor. No guiding hand. Everything I am, I built myself. And I despise tea.ā He rants.
āEveryone drinks tea!ā You exclaim.
āNot me, it tastes disgusting.ā He cringes thinking about the taste causing you to laugh.
The creaking of the garden gate opening causes you to jump. Not Sukuna who continues to just stare at you. A familiar white-robed figure appeared at the archway, pale hair glowing in the moonlight like fresh snowfall.
My lady, we have been looking for you. It is time to get ready,ā came the level, calm voice of Uraume, standing a few paces behind you. They looked expectant, unblinking, patient in that unsettling way only they could manage.
Beside you, Sukuna straightened to his full height.
You hadnāt truly noticed until this momentā
just how tall he was.
Just how broad his shoulders were.
How the air itself shifted when he rolled his spine back into a regal stance.
Beside him, you felt impossibly small.
āGive her a moment, Uraume,ā he said, not with harshness but with a sort of gentle command neither cold nor sharp. āShe hasnāt decided if she wants to marry me yet.ā
Uraume said nothing.
They simply remained, hands folded, gaze lowered, the picture of obedienceāyet their silence felt charged, acknowledging the significance of what you had just been offered.
Sukuna turned back to you.
And for onceā
for the first timeā
there was no smirk on his lips. No teasing amusement. No predatory curiosity.
Only sincerity.
āI hope to see you in there,ā he said quietly. The words were simple. The tone was devastatingly genuine.
Before you could respond, he pivoted gracefully, his cloak sweeping behind him, and he walked back toward the palace with a measured strideāneither rushed nor arrogant. He did not look back.
And suddenly the garden felt very still.
You exhaled shakily, realizing he had just given you a freedom no kingāno curse, no man of such powerāwould ever give freely.
You stood alone with your thoughts for a moment. With your heartbeat pounding in your ears. With a strange, warming ache spreading through your chest.
Uraume waited, silent and steady, a respectful distance behind you. Not urging. Not commanding. Simply⦠waiting for your choice.
Your fingers curled in your silk skirts.
Your decision formed like a spark. Small, sure, bright.
You turned.
āCome, Uraume,ā you said, lifting your chin with newfound resolve. āWe must ready me for my wedding. Quickly.ā
Uraumeās expression changedāsubtle, barely detectableābut unmistakable.
A soft smile.
The first you had seen from them since the moment you met. They bowed their head just slightly, almost reverently.
āOf course, my lady.ā
Sukunaās wife
Ryomen Sukuna x fem!reader
->pt1 ->pt2 -> pt2.5 ->pt3 ->pt4 ->pt5 ->pt6 ->pt7
Masterlist
Blink twice if you need help
Before his death in the Heian era, Sukuna was a very powerful human sorcerer, and because he was the strongest, other lords had expected him to take up another wife by now. But, it had been 6 years since his first marriage to you, with no concubines, no second marriage for a younger woman to give him more heirs.
They were confused to say the least.
The last time one of the sons of the Kamo Family tried to broach the subject with Sukuna, the man had used ādivine flameā to sautĆ© the man before his filthy hand could make contact with his Kimono. You were also sitting by his side at the time and he wouldnāt want you in the presence of such filth anyways. There was a number of things the lords that leached off of your husband hated about you, they already thought it disgraceful on your part to have not provided Sukuna with an heir, they also hated that Sukuna allowed you to sit by his side during meetings, or walk beside him and not behind like the rest of them.
The lords also hated how Sukuna 'spoiled' you, as it meant their own wives would watch with envy as you fiddled with the sleeves of your new Kimono, one that was so comfortable you swear you could fall asleep sitting up. This was because Sukuna had new Kimonoās or yukata fashioned for you inside the palace walls with gold thread in the Shippo or Hou-ou pattern. Each week would pass with a new garment fashioned from only the most deep and royal colours of course.
He would never give you these face to face, the weekly clothes deliveries were done by Uraume, who only sometimes wished that their master would try to be romantic face-to-face for once, instead of having them leave gifts by your door like a stray cat. Your husband's main pet name for you is also just āwoman!ā which he feels comfortable yelling in any setting. However, if he ever feels the need to fluster you on purpose, he simply leans down and whispers your name right into your ear, then struts away cackling. Itās a fun game and he likes tormenting you on a daily basis.
Sukuna's version of flirting is giving you anything and everything you would possibly want or need; defending your honour with violence; and listening to you. Yes, when you offer input on territory or a strategy in his war meetings Sukuna thinks thatās you flirting with him...and it works. Itās also another way he gets to piss off the lords around him because his wife is so much more intelligent, pretty, well dressed, fed, and educated than theirs on political matters. Heāll sit there with his chest puffed out and a shit eating grin on his face as he watches the lords trying to hide their scowls when his woman speaks, because he knows, that they know, that whatever you have to say is a much better and well thought out plan that whatever they were previously thinking.
Oh yeah and seeing you read does stuff to him that he will never admit to you.
Once you two start sharing a room he acts like such a baby and will just hover behind you, mainly to scare off whoever you are talking to, all just so that he can get you both in bed faster. His master plan is that the sooner you guys are in bed the sooner he can sleep on his favourite pillow, your stomach, bonus points if he manages grumbles enough youāll also start to play with his hair.
Would he ask you to do any of this directly? No never, heād rather die than admit he even likes looking at you, but he will make a fuss if you donāt pick up on these silent social cues.
Usually when you wake up with the weight of his arms around your waist, and a human life vest spooning you from behind, wishing he could melt into your skin, you mumble a sweet āI love youā before you start your day. BUT. If you donāt say it, not like Sukuna ever replies anyway, he will just follow you around silently for the rest of the day, eyes burning into the top of your head.
He does love you though, Uraume is his wingman in that regard because when you were first wed you did hate him, you grew resentful of his endless violence, his ego, his inability to communicate. Until there was an attempt on your life, one year into your marriage someone tried to hit you with a poison arrow while you were wandering the gardens, Sukuna just seemingly appears out of nowhere and catches it, snapping it like a twig between his fingers before going after the rented assassin.
Safe to say that never happened again. Sukuna burned him Publicly himself
Uraume pulls you inside by your sleeve and makes you some yakimono to hopefully get you to stop crying because it was starting to make them even more uncomfortable. They yelled at all the other servants to leave and not to speak of their lady crying or else Sukuna would have their heads in a basket. Uraume explained that Sukuna has you as a wife because he had chosen you to be by his side, and also that he must be obsessed with you because whenever Uraume helps him dress his master would ask him if youād like his outfit, or the dinner the servants were preparing.
The next morning you woke up to Sukuna burning down his own palace gardens in order to fill it with your favourite flower, something the man only found out because he ordered Uraume to spy on his wife and find out what your favourite flower is.
Folded - T.F.
Synopsis. Toji Zenin. Nephew of Naobito Zenin. Leader of the powerful Zenin clan. Alsoā¦your newly-wed husband with a taste to give the family an heir. Now.
Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!reader, clan leader!Toji, arranged marriage, chiIdhood best friends, being apart, friend-to-married, married-to-Iovers, the elders, the cIan is awful, rumors, tradition, cónsummation, wedding nights, exhĆbitĆonism, heās PĆSSYDRĆNK, oraI (fem rec.), spĆtting, chokĆng, manhandIing, dirty taIk, fĆngering, wedding rings, matĆng presses, heās BIG, tummy buIges, cervĆx smooching, rough s, letting them hear, talking you through it, pushing down, p taIking, dĆŗmbifĆcation, BRĆEDlNG, creampĆes, cĆŗmpIay, cĆŗmfIation, implied marathon, overstĆm,Ā breaking cIan systems, slight hurt, COMFORT, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swĆ©aring.
Word count. 12.6k
A/N. Saw that one frame of his foot and knew I had to-
āAnd if both families find themselves in favor of this proposition-ā Naobito Zenin claps his hands with a greedy smile, quivering the ceramic cups of tea before him. ā-then I take that we shall commence the appropriate measures?ā
āQuite quite.ā The elderly representative of your own family strokes his long beard. He reaches across the sleek table of Japanese cedarāit had the sigils of Zenin warriors carved into it, each glowering up at the outsiders upon their ancient estate. āIt was a pleasure meeting you, Zenin-sama.ā
The former clan leader takes his handshake heartily, āThe pleasure is all mine.ā Before his scrutinizing eyes slip over to you. āAnd about the preparations for the after-ceremonyāā
But you donāt listen.
Instead, youāre lifting your gaze up eeeever-so-slightly.
Just the slightest nudge that wouldnāt be enough to draw suspicion from the older men around you, yet still manage to give you a peek at the hounding figure beside Naobito. Fists clenched. Jaw sharp. Gaze lowered.
Toji Zenin.
Your future husband.
when people see Toji with his sweet girlfriend out in public itās all whispers
į„«į”.Ö“Ö¶Öøš
An older woman whispers to another about how sorry they feel for you or assuming what Toji is like behind closed doors just by his large muscular form, grumpy face, and his overbearing rough demeanor itās not rare people are going talk.
You donāt hear the whispers, but Toji does, all of the tiny hushes going unnoticed by him.
His eyebrows furrow from slight irritation as his eyes watch you wander around the lingerie store trying to find that pink set you saw online.
Toji doesnāt complain on how long youāre taking his heavy footsteps following behind you while you looked around. His ears twitch as he hears a woman whispering to one of her friends about how they feel sorry for you, again assuming how Toji is behind closed doors.
Once you had your full fill of shopping and you were back in your cozy apartment all Toji could think about is how he wished all those people in the mall could see him right now.
large muscular form taking up your entire vanity chair as you test out all the new makeup products you bought. Your hand steadily applies the eyeliner on his lash line - face completely concentrated as you swiftly apply a small wing.
His hair was clipped back by my melody hair clips, face in full glam with all the products you just bought. You lean back eyes scanning his face - hand gripping his jaw as you turn his head from side to side inspecting your work.
Toji doesnāt complain nor does he saying anything just a sigh through his nose - eyes never leaving yours as you stare at him. Finally you give a satisfied smile as you hand him a mirror. āyou look so pretty āji !ā you squeal while Toji checks out your magic.
Tojis scarred lips tug into a grin as he puts down the mirror grabbing you by the waist pulling you into his lap.
āmhm i do, you like everything you bought then?ā big hands rubbing up and down your waist. You nod with a smile as you lean forward kissing his cheek as a thank you for his compliance.
If only the people around them could see him like this. His sweet girlfriend treating him like some doll, then they really wouldnāt be saying anything.
______ą¹ā”ā ą¹_____
(not proof read)
AITA for eating my partner's pussy until she's sobbing?Ā
thatās what suguru was typing up on his phone while you had him shut out of the bathroom washing up.Ā
suguru knew he was supposed to feel bad about what he had done, but his heart was beating fast, and his dick was getting harder thinking about it again.Ā
ten minutes ago, suguru just finished eating your pussy out front and back, it lasted two hours and almost three. when he was satisfied with how much fluid, moans and crying you did, he finally stopped.Ā
in his defense it wasnāt his intention to go over board with it. he just wanted to taste you before the both of you settled in for bed, but once he started licking and sucking, he just couldnāt stop.Ā
the sensation and feeling of his tongue running over your wet pussy while you swirled and whined for him to stop while you simultaneously rolled your hips against your face, you acting like you didnāt want it only gave him more reason to keep going.Ā
he shouldāve felt bad for having you squirt on his face multiple times and your pussy juice dripping off his skin but the more he typed on the forum the more he started to feel aroused by the actions that took place earlier.Ā
he only wanted to give his good girl a reward for being so needy, but you just had to keep rolling those hips of yours and spreading your legs out.Ā
fuck⦠the more he wrote, the better he felt about the situation.if anyone else was in his position with a pretty girl pussy deep in his mouth and his tongue exploring regions that shouldnāt be discussed, they too wouldāve kept going.Ā
it was so sexy and hot that tears were rolling down your face while your hands were in his hair and pulling it trying to get him off of you from the overstimulation, that he came in his pants.Ā
the only defense that he had was the fact that this was a mistake, and he was only supposed to eat you out until you came, but his plans were ruined when your fluid glistened on his chin and your wet pussy tempted his eyes.Ā
his tongue flicking back and forth while his two fingers worked in and out of you with great speed. you couldnāt be mad at him for this, itās your fault for having such a pretty pussy that needs to be taken care of.Ā
donāt make him the villain. he was only helping you with the pleasure that you so desperately craved. seeing you overstimulated and sobbing from the overwhelming sense ecstasy you were getting from him and only him, it turned him on.Ā
at certain points while deep inside you, his eyes would roll, and he would moan, and the vibrations from his moaning made you cum even more.Ā
after submitting that into the subreddit, replies came flooding in on how he wasnāt the asshole, and that made him grin.Ā
giving him even more reason to bust into the bathroom and eat you out again.
OMG I FINALLY FOUND IT. iāve been looking for this fic for months
toji will do just about anything you want if you fuck him right first.
18+ content: smut, pussywhipped!toji, sub!toji if u squint, fem reader, sugar daddy dynamics
whatever youāve done to his brain should be illegal.
tojiās never paid for pussy in his life. heās not that kind of guy. but heād gladly hand over his life savings if it meant youād sit on his dick and never come off of it.
he feels like a fool when youāre squeezing him the way you are right now. hands shaking with his head thrown back and his neck exposed. grumbling nonsense to himself while he musters up the strength to not blow his load right then and there.
this is the closest thing to submission heāll ever give you. toji likes to call the shots in the bedroom, but right now? he chooses to lay back against the pillows and let you use his dick however you need to.
doesnāt matter if heās already cum, heāll pull you back on it even when the sensitivity stings hot behind his eyes. even when the feeling of your sloppy heat makes his brain feel like itāll melt through his ears.
āyāknow.ā you start, bracing your palms on his knees to better rock yourself onto him āyou havenāt taken me shopping in a while.ā
āyeah?ā he pants, not at all registering what you just said. āyeah, whatever you want baby.ā his voice trails off halfway through the sentence, too focused on the ripple of your ass against his hips. men were so easy.
itās nights like these where toji chastises himself for not being able to keep up with your impressive stamina. fucking you was a gift and a curse wrapped all under a pretty pink bow. you made him work for it.
you slow your pace just the slightest bit, looking over your shoulder with a teasing grin to offer him a silent opt out.
toji shakes his head immediately. like the thought alone is the most ridiculous thing heās ever heard of.
āno, no. iām fine. that dick is all yours.ā he mumbles, nuzzling into the crook of your neck like a feral animal. ācardās all yours, moneyās all yours. mā yours.ā
jackpot.
make no mistake, he could push his palm against your lower back and have you ass-up in a second. could decide heās bored and fasten a hand to the back of your head, maybe pump you full of another load. but he doesnāt. whether thatās because of free will or because the synapses in his brain are overloaded with pleasure is something he wonāt get into right now.
or maybe heās just saying that to make himself feel better. maybe he really is the pussy drunk loser he never thought heād become.
Muhehehe
Bad Dolly Rolling Her Eyes At Ahna.
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