Mar 28, 2025
seen from Switzerland
seen from Finland
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from Switzerland
seen from Italy
seen from Switzerland
seen from China
seen from Egypt
seen from China
seen from United States
seen from Netherlands
seen from China
seen from Malaysia
seen from China
seen from Singapore
seen from Australia
seen from Germany
seen from India
Consumed - Mia Bergeron , 2025.
American, b. 1979 -
Oil on panel , 9 x 12 in . 22.86 x 30.48 cm.
Consumed Daryl forever 😍🏹😍
“what’s twist and shout?” - Me approximately 8 hours ago
Me 10 mins after epilogue - I am hollow inside, god is dead, do not speak to me about destiel for a week.
The curse that consumes me
The room is silent except for your ragged breathing. You’re still on the ground from the fight, chest rising and falling as cursed energy flickers weakly around you.
Sukuna appears beside you without warning — not pulling forward, not taking over the body. Just manifesting, towering over you like he’s been watching longer than you realized.
His eyes drag over you slowly. Not with concern. With ownership.
“Pathetic,” he murmurs, but his voice is too amused. He crouches down, bringing his face level with yours. “Yet somehow… you survive.”
You look away, embarrassed, but he grips your chin with one hand, forcing you to face him. His claws lightly scrape your skin — not enough to hurt, just enough to remind you he could.
“Don’t look away from me.”
Another arm splits out behind him, then another — all of them moving with a smooth, predatory grace. One hooks around your waist, pulling you upright. Another settles on your thigh, firm and deliberate.
You freeze. His grin widens.
“Ah… there it is.” His voice drops, dark and pleased. “Your body reacts before your mind even decides to.”
He leans closer, his breath warm against your neck.
“Humans,” he mutters, almost laughing. “All I do is touch you and you forget how to breathe.”
You whisper his name, shaky. Not summoning him. Not resisting.
Just saying it.
Something sharp flashes across his face — hunger, annoyance, desire, all tangled together.
He likes it. Too much.
He drags one clawed thumb across your bottom lip, slow enough to feel intentional.
“Say it again,” he orders, voice low enough to vibrate through you.
Your pulse jumps — he hears it, he feels it, and he relishes it.
Another one of his arms slides behind your back, pulling you flush against him.
He lowers his head to your ear, his tone dropping into something vicious, intimate, and promising:
“If you want what you’re begging for…” His fingers tighten on your waist. “…then you’ll ask properly.”
He pauses — just a breath — letting the tension snap tight between you.
Then, barely above a whisper:
“Now. Show me.”
“S-show you..?”
“Did I stutter?
His hand doesn’t move, but energy pours from him into you, thick and electric. your breath catches, your knees wobble, and his smirk grows. “Good. You felt that.”
Then his eyes sharpen — not just looking at you, tracking the way your body responds to that surge of power.
The shift is subtle but unmistakable; something in you flares, bright and involuntary, and he sees it instantly.
A soft, dark laugh rumbles from him.
“There it is… your little secret.”
In a shaky breath, you force my eyes open. Sukuna looms above me, closer than you realized, his presence swallowing the space between us.
His heat rolls over my skin like a second pulse — heavy, overwhelming — and even the warmth of his breath feels like it’s crawling straight through my defenses.
His expression is unreadable, but his gaze… it’s locked on every tiny reaction I can’t hide.
He catches me opening my eyes and fastens his pace, my pussy clenches tightly around his shaft, both long and thick. There’s no sense of love within his pouncing.
“Damn brat you’re pussy sure is tight, mind loosening up for me a bit” sukuna groans as his grip on my ass tightens.
“Shut the fuck up dickhead” I say my body falling limp and my voice scarce from all the moans
“How about you take your own advice my little mortal” sukuna chuckles
His hand slides behind my back, pulling me in with a force that steals what air I have left. His forehead presses to mine, eyes glowing with that terrifying, magnetic power.
Every part of me feels claimed.
Not owned. Not dominated. Claimed. In a way only a monster like him could understand.
“You’ll thank me later,” he whispers.
I don’t get the chance to ask what he means — his energy rushes through me again, hot and consuming, blotting out sound and thought until all I can do is hold on.
And in the last moment before everything fades into white heat, I hear him breathe against my ear:
“Good girl.”