ryn

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[batmanisagatewaydrug]

sorry to be a broken record every month but christ menstruation is a stupid concept. oooooh excuse me for not getting pregnant, why the fuck is there goo falling out of me about it? grow the fuck up and reabsorb that shit for nutrients.

[azaablue]

the best fanfiction you've ever read was written by a woman in her 40s before she made dinner for her kids. it was written by a teenager after school when they should've been studying for a history test. and a barista came up with the idea while they cleaned the espresso machine and busser fact-checked it on their break and the post-doc edited between writing grant proposals and the nurse apologized for typos in the notes after a long shift and behind every drabble and one-shot and multi-chapter fic there is a person with a wonderful and interesting and chaotic life and it is such a privilege that we get to be a part of it because they decided to do this thing we all share, for fun.

[musatoru]

Hello dears! I am asking you to support my campaign to help me achieve my goal. Now that the war has become a whole year, we are in dire need of your support to help me survive and be safe. Gaza is a very dangerous place both in terms of livelihood and lives. I need your financial support to enable me to get the basic needs of my family until the Rafah crossing is reopened to transport my family to safety and peace. Please help a family survive through your small donations or through your shares to others. Thank you very much for standing by those in need 🍉🇵🇸

If you're in a position to help financially, please do so, or help by sharing (!)

[embodement]

everyone in jjk who dies still dies but they lipsync instead of fighting

happy pride!

[unxaid]

highkey missing litc rn its not even funny

[cassideezlife-deactivated202607]

PREACHER'S DAUGHTER

ieiri shoko x reader

little drabble for @seventasia 's event ^_^ go check it out here!!

tw: religious guilt, religious trauma themes, smoking, emotional repression, self-destructive tendencies, internalized shame, faith crisis, crying, hurt/comfort, angst

preacher's daughter!shoko who was raised on hymnals and southern guilt and the kind of love that always came with conditions, who learned young how to sit still in hard wooden pews with her knees pressed together and her head bowed politely while everyone in town admired what a sweet girl the pastor raised. because everyone loves the pastor's daughter, even when they do not know her at all.

preacher's daughter!shoko who knows every church song by memory but mouths the words instead of singing them, voice dying somewhere behind her teeth while stained glass paints bruised colors across her skin. who thinks faith should feel warmer than this. who thinks god stopped listening to her years ago.

preacher's daughter!shoko who smells like cigarette smoke hidden beneath vanilla perfume and old books, who keeps a lighter tucked into the pocket of her choir robe, who sits on the church roof after evening service just to feel farther away from everybody beneath her. that is where you first find her. legs hanging over the edge. smoke curling from parted lips. silver cross necklace glinting beneath the moonlight. and instead of telling her father, instead of looking horrified the way everyone else would, you sit beside her. quietly. like you already know all the ugly things she's trying to hide and you have decided they don't matter.

preacher's daughter!shoko who thinks you are too kind for your own good. who rolls her eyes whenever you show up to volunteer at food drives. when you help clean after sunday dinners, pretending your presence annoys her while secretly memorizing the sound of your laugh over gospel music crackling through old church speakers. somehow you keep staying. through her sharp words and every carefully built wall she places between herself and the rest of the world. you stay anyway.

preacher's daughter!shoko who learns the sound of your car before she learns the sound of your footsteps, who waits in the church parking lot after dark pretending she is just "getting fresh air" while secretly hoping your headlights appear at the end of the road. who starts craving you in quiet, devastating ways. who wants your hoodie in the passenger seat; your hand brushing hers over diner tables during the late hours of the night; your voice low and sleepy through phone calls neither of you wants to end.

preacher's daughter!shoko who never calls it love because love feels too sacred and frightening and permanent, and she has spent her whole life being taught that wanting you is wrong because no force of god can change the fact that you are a girl. so instead, you kiss behind gas stations. in dark corner booths of a diner two towns over where nobody recognizes the pastor's daughter. and afterwards, she presses her forehead against yours like she is mourning something before it is even gone.

preacher's daughter!shoko who keeps her cross necklace on even when she sleeps beside you, the chain cold against your collarbone when she curls into you. who goes strangely still the first time you touch it. "my father gave it to me when i turned thirteen. ", she whispers, almost inaudible. like that explains everything. maybe it does.

preacher's daughter!shoko who has spent years praying for god to make her easier to love. cleaner, quieter, holier. less angry, less lonely, less this. who kneels beside her bed at night with mascara streaking down her face whispering apologies into clasped hands because she cannot stop thinking about you no matter how hard she tries.

preacher's daughter!shoko who begins pulling away the second she realizes how hard she has fallen for you. texts become shorter. calls go unanswered. kisses rushed and guilty. she stands beside her father after sunday sermons smiling sweetly at churchgoers while you watch from across the parking lot wondering if you had imagined the softness of her hands. wondering if you had imagined her entirely.

preacher's daughter!shoko who finally breaks in the middle of a thunderstorm. rain batters the church windows hard enough to sound like screaming while she cries in your arms, shoulders shaking violently beneath your hands as every ugly buried thing finally claws its way out of her chest. "i think there's something wrong with me." she says it like a confession. like a prayer. like something she has known her whole life. and when you try to kiss her, she pulls away at first. not because she does not love you, but because the silver cross hanging between you suddenly feels unbearable. heavy with expectation and shame. with every version of herself she was forced to become.

preacher's daughter!shoko whose trembling hands rise to the necklace slowly. the chain catches briefly in her shaking fingers. when it finally slips free, she starts crying harder. huge broken sobs against your mouth while she kisses you desperately, terrified and loving you so much it hurts. like she is choosing you and losing herself all at once. like a girl raised on sermons and sacrifice finally allowing herself, for one impossibly selfish moment, to be loved anyway.

[liahcharms]

when the sea calls

Sirens are dangerous and deceptive beings. Especially dangerous to naive sailors, particularly for men. And as it seems, Choso is no different. Because as soon as he hears your lovely call, he's willing to risk death just to feel your warmth. Even for a second.

included in Tales, Myths, Romances

Requested (pray forgive me for such a long wait!)

˖𖦹 ݁˖ pairing: ꒰ Sailor!Choso x Siren!Reader ꒱

˖𖦹 ݁˖ content/warnings: ꒰ MDNI 18+ : set in Ancient Greece : inspired by Greek Mythology : filth with plot : heavy smut : heavy breeding kink : whimpering Choso : siren pussy : mating : reverse knotting (???) : mating press : Choso is miserable as always : oral sex (both ways) : cum overflow : cum eating : belly bulge : happy ending : aphrodisiac puss : 6k words ꒱

˖𖦹 ݁˖ note: If you see me uploading it for the second time – no you don't (I may or may not have accidentally deleted the og post). A warm thank you to my real-life friends who sat with me in a bar and discussed how to describe the siren's pussy. I think it's the most filthy thing I've written so far. Also, a quick note, in Greek Mythology, sirens are half women, half birds, but I decided to keep the classic mermaid look!

dividers by @diviniyae and @solitary-serendipity art by F_tality0 on X

Poseidon was enraged that night.

Breeze, always so gentle and kind, smacked the pirates' cheeks all night as the massive ship swam through the restless darkness. The mast was almost broken, bending under the powerful wind that gusted madly across the Aegean Sea, with tall waves and salty foam slipping onto the half-wrecked ship.

They weren't going to make it. For the first time in years of sailing, the captain truly believed that they weren't going to make it.

The ship was barely standing, traded goods hidden neatly below the deck, yet waves of foaming salt were constantly filling the vessel with its unmatched weight. It was getting heavier and heavier, slowly dipping into the relentless liquid till everyone gathered up on a deck, with fifty or so pirates praying for mercy.

To Poseidon, as only he could hear their pleas and still the madness of the waters. Never in over five years of their journeys had they encountered a storm like this. Rough, almost barbarous, as if God himself wished to wipe them from the earth.

Another wave spilt over the wooden edge, washing over a dozen or so sailors, wet and desperate, looking out for any haven. With almost a broken mast, they were already in a lost position, and yet through drenched lashes, with hands covering their eyes from the heavy, cold rain, they looked out.

And looked, looked, until a scream had slashed through the air, carrying the hope all these men waited for. "Captain, there's an island!"

Choso quickly looked up, chestnut eyes struggling to see through the thick fog and pouring rain that stung his cheeks with their mischievous giggles. Wet, dark hair clung to his forehead as his eyes finally caught a large shadow, bending and curving in front of his wet gaze.

He should be happy, just like other men, as a sudden hope appeared, yet something in his chest tightened. But Choso, a long-time experienced captain, knew that an island in the middle of the sea meant nothing good.

In fact, he could already sense it, see it. The rocky edges of the small isle. Sharp and shimmering under the pale moonlight, lighted solely by its cold beams and lightnings slashing the enraged sky.

He could see the foam swelling near the ship, with pearly scales appearing here and there, coating the full length of heavy tails.

He could hear the melody, carried by the storm, right towards their ship. Like birds chirping, the glazed sweetness that warmed the shivering hearts of sailors and lulled them into the clutches of deadly creatures.

Choso has never met the sirens, although he had seen them.

The enchanting, nymph-like beings frolic near the seaside, giggling and singing softly as they bathed on the warm rocks. Their skin always shimmered like gold under the warm rays of sunshine, reflecting off the crystal droplets coating their bodies.

The creatures of utmost beauty and lethal nature. Nightmares of every passing ship. One of the few divinities a mortal could actually meet, yet everyone who tried to ogle them from the dense forest, lurking at their gleaming bodies dipping into the sea, would surely end up dead.

But not Choso.

He, somehow, as a simple sailor with only a few foolish things to his name, managed to get close to those mysterious beings. Close enough to smell their skin – the scent of a sweet ocean breeze and sweat, as they soaked in the sun all day. To hear their lovely hums without going absolutely mad, and to cherish them while watching from behind the massive boulders. Big enough to cover his body completely and let him hold dear this special moment.

As myths and legends of forbidden love always go, there was one most enchanting siren, whom the poor sailor couldn't keep his eyes off.

The one, whose tail shimmered the brightest, covered in lovely pinkish scales woven with golden thread. With skin soft as flowery petals, although he never touched it with his own, calloused fingers. With a voice so lovely it lulled him to sleep, whenever he came to the seaside on late, late nights.

When nothing but the gentle waves and low hum of crickets filled the humid air.

He could be more daring. Braver, lurking behind the boulder with his gaze fixed on your body spread out on the sand and the turtles sleeping peacefully near your tail. Cherish the longing melody directed at the moon, as you sang it loudly and clearly, filling Choso's ears with the sweetest ambrosia.

Nights like this were always his favourite. Making his heart swell with a certain pride, as if he were a chosen one. The only one who could hold you dearly in his own, foolish way – never making a step, never saying a word.

But it was enough. He simply didn't need more.

And you… You seemed not to care about him at all.

Even if you sensed his presence, it seemed that this foolish sailor boy was of no danger or harm. As long as he was simply there, lurking from between the trees without sticky hands trying to grab you or your sisters, there was no need to kill him.

And thus, simply because of it, Choso started believing that the heavens had blessed him. Allowed to be the only mortal who could get close to such deadly and mysterious creatures as the daughters of the sea.

But then the storm came as he and his crew crossed the Aegean Sea and aimed for Athens. The journey was long and tricky, yet they finished it time and time again, always without a sweat and with goods delivered on time.

None of them expected the sudden hurricane, which raised the crystal waves to meters high and swelled beneath their ship. But even this would be manageable. At some point, the waters would calm down, and Choso with his crew would find their way to the shore.

Now, however, with the devilish melody slipping warmly into his men's minds, Choso knew that it was over. For the sirens' voice was more treacherous than Poseidon's wrath. A spell of the most unkind sort, luring the foolish man into their warm, open arms, only to sink their teeth deep into the flesh.

With fifty men on the ship, there was no chance for Choso to save everyone. Nevertheless, he needed to try.

"Close your ears," his shout tried to rip itself through the eruption of clashing waves. "The sirens are here, close your ears! Don't listen to them!"

His men started to panic, with low, frightened tremblings filling the drenched deck.

"Sirens? How is it possible?"

"Dear Gods, save us!"

"What Gods? No one will help us! That's it, we're done here!"

The terror grew as the haunting melody sharpened and became more distinct, as if a dozen or so sirens circled the ship. Choso stood on the deck, watching the shimmering tails and wet heads slipping from the tall waves. One more lovely than another, with long, flapping tails and warm eyes fixed on their prey.

With his hands covering ears, he couldn't hear much, and yet the sight of pearly smiles and soft arms stretched towards them was enough to feel the urge to jump right into their loving clutches. To feel the sweetness of their kisses on his cheeks, delicate fingers wrapping around his neck with the utmost fondness, till at last sharp teeth would dig into his body and take it deep under the sea.

As the ship drew nearer to the stony island, he finally realised that the helmsman, immersed in the melody, was completely lost. With both hands on the wooden wheel and a foggy gaze, he had no thoughts, steering the vessel directly toward the sirens' isle.

"No," Choso gasped, running towards the wheel. "No, fuck, wake up!" he screamed and screamed, but nothing could mute the sirens' sweet voices.

The melodic come to me, sweetheart, and, I'll treat you well, darling, or, come closer, fill me with your love. Sometimes it would be only the singing, sweet and treacherous, with a maddening power to possess the men's simple minds.

Choso shoved the helmsman aside and hurried to cover his ears.

He looked around and saw utter chaos. A few men took cover in the wet corners of the ship, clutching their heads and praying fervently. Others jumped off the deck, heading straight for the siren's open arms, foolishly lured by the sweet and tempting promises they had convinced themselves of.

The bodies fell one by one, and soon a wave of screams rose from the pearly foam, as the crystal waters turned crimson. Sirens' strong hands sank the sailors, only to rise to the surface again and wait for another fool.

The helmsman curled under the wheel as Choso took over the steering.

And that was his biggest mistake.

As he took his hands off his ears, all the melodic whispers and giggles suddenly reached him. Loud and clear, one voice sweeter than the other, choking him with an overwhelming power until breathing alone became too difficult. A warmth spread all over his chest, as if the sole sensuality of the voices made his heart beat faster and his skin coat in sweat. The heat hit his cheeks, fever broke, but it wasn't caused by sickness, no.

But by all the devilish oaths, hitting him like an aphrodisiac and pulling towards the ship's edge. He tried to fight the filthy warmth filling his body. The need to jump overboard and nuzzle into the sirens' warm, plush skin.

He gripped the wheel tighter, trying to get the ship away from the stony island. The storm was ravaging the vessel, and yet it seemed that the brutal wind finally started to bend under his pleas. He rolled the wheel, and rolled, and rolled, till the massive, wooden structure slowly turned back towards the open sea.

Men were jumping one after another, and he estimated that half of the crew was already dead. Sirens circled the ship tighter, voices even-pitched, sweeter, making him tremble from the overwhelming heat.

But he was strong, Choso had believed. He could fight them, as no woman was able to make him mad enough to force him to jump overboard. Saving his life was far more crucial than those few, mere seconds of pleasure spent in sirens' arms.

With fingers clutching the wheel and the storm still fierce, he steered the ship away from the island into the endless sea. Pale moonlight struggled to pierce the thick clouds overhead, while ghostly lightning forked across the sky, illuminating his rain-slicked face.

He screamed to his men, telling them to hang in there, to stay calm, hoping that a few of them who still nuzzled into the dark corners of the ship wouldn't go absolutely mad. Sirens sang louder, and Choso thought with nail and tooth to keep his mind clear. But the lustful fever was making him weak, melting his body into a trembling mess, until he needed to grip the wheel tighter to keep from falling.

And then…

Then the catastrophe came.

"Sailor boy," whirled in the air, reaching his ears. His body suddenly froze, eyes widened. "Sailor boy, come here."

The voice was distinct from the others – sweeter, kinder, with a silky undertone that pierced straight to his heart.

"Sailor boy, I know you're there," a melody rumbled through his body once again, forcing Choso to let go of the wheel.

Driven by madness, he slowly moved down the deck, sneakily gliding over the ship's edge. The dark, infinite sea stretched out before him, with pearly waves crashing against each other. Among other lurking sirens, with giggles and claws poised to seize his lustful body – there was you.

Calm and beautiful, with wet hair curling around your cheeks and slightly lidded eyes looking up at him. Water dripped down your shell-covered breasts, and moonlight bounced off the wet skin.

Your gaze carried a kind of grace – patient, almost trusting. And the longer Choso kept looking at you, the more he leaned further forward. Raven hair sticking to his damp neck, lips fallen open, as he tried to fight the heat bubbling in his loins.

"My sailor boy," you chirped, spreading your arms open. Towards the sky, him, with a lovely smile and a little tilt of your head. "Come to me, sailor boy. I know you wish to."

His fingers gripped the wooden side tighter. Till knuckles went white, and breath slipped with a shudder. Wind smacked his cheeks, rain filled the fallen lips as he still, with trembling eyes and body bent in half, looked at your waiting arms.

He wondered how soft your skin would be and what you would taste like if he tried to caress your lips with his. How far underwater would you take him before choking him to death and leaving his body behind, just like you did with all the other men?

Would you devour him right away, or perhaps cherish every piece of his muscular body, which he was ready to offer you on a plate?

Or maybe, just maybe, with gentle fingers, you would first trace his cheeks, gazing deeply into the warm chestnut of his eyes as if meeting a lover’s stare. Run your fingers through his hair and softly press your lips to his, patiently awaiting his response – longing for him to deepen the kiss with the desire of one tempted by forbidden fruit, mindful of the inevitable consequences.

The rest of the crew watched him in fright, yet no one dared to step any closer to the edge. For the captain seemed to fight something none of them could help him with. Something so deeply etched into his chest that he could only grip the deck tighter and lean on the line between life and death.

But then your arms opened even wider, lips curled mischievously, gaze flickered. "My sailor boy, my dearest," the voice suddenly became lower, with the sensual cheekiness swirling in his mind. "Come to me. Let me love you."

Amidst the frightened screams of the crew and the wind whipping his cheeks with sharp, rainy gusts, Choso jumped.

Into the arms of a woman who suddenly turned him into a madman.

𖦹 𖦹 𖦹

He woke up with a sudden realisation that he could still breathe. His body didn't hurt as much as he thought it would after being devoured by a siren, and solely a light pain pulsed on his face.

He raised hand, touching the long, bloody slash marking his nose and cheeks. An ache flickered under his fingers, leaving the crimson, still slightly wet liquid on soft pads.

Moonlight slipped sheepishly through the small opening above, and only then did he realise he had been dragged into the cave. The sand beneath his body was still wet, soaked by the clothes that had weighed him down. He clearly remembered the moment his body touched the cold sea, sinking quickly before a pair of gentle arms pulled him back to the surface.

But the rest of his memory faded, and the bloody mark on his nose was likely caused by a severe blow to his head.

It pulsed a bit, but he was too excited by the thought of still being alive to care about such a minor issue.

He gradually sat up, glancing around the small cave by the seaside. Gentle waves quietly lapped inside, flowing over the golden sand and touching his bare feet. The moonlight glinted brightly in the clear, dark sky, and the warm night air caressed his flushed cheeks. It appeared that, in the end, he wasn't on the rocky siren island, and a breath of relief escaped his lips.

A relief mixed with panic.

Because you weren't here.

He once again looked around, noticing how shallow the cave was. The back wall, covered in slimy seaweed, shimmered under the moonlight, carrying the salty, slightly rotten smell of fish. But nowhere in the cave could he spot the familiar pinkish scales.

"Looking for me, sailor boy?"

His head snapped back towards the entrance.

And there you were – smiling slyly, wet hair cascading down your back, head tilted slightly. You lay on your belly, resting chin on your palm, with long tail swaying back and forth, droplets of crystal-clear water dripping from the soft scales.

A sweet giggle bounced off the stony walls as you looked at Choso's lips fallen open. "Why? Aren't you happy to see me?"

His throat bobbed, fingers gripped the wet sand. "N-No, it's just…"

Too distracted, he struggled to carve into his mind every small detail of your face. His gaze fixated on your lovely eyes, veiled by a gentle fog, where the irises and whites blurred together, almost resembling a spectre. He noticed the gentle curve of your lips and cheeks, which held a slight warmth. Your ears, bent into an eerie shape, slightly pointed and much thinner, added a little uncanny look to your lovely face.

And yet, his breath hitched, and something heavy bubbled beneath the chest. "Why didn't you kill me?"

A sweet hum filled the wet cave, broken only by waves clashing gently against your splayed body. "Would you prefer that, sailor boy?"

"No, i-it's just…" Choso desperately searched for words, but his mind was still as if under the influence of your bewitching spell. "Thank you." That's all he could say, trembling under the heavy gaze of yours.

Lying in front of his seated form, your finger brushed his calf. "It's too early to thank me. You still don't know why I decided to keep you alive."

Heavy muscles bulged under the milky, slightly damp skin, curling around his thick calves and up to beefy thighs. A giggle slipped past your lips as you saw another bulge straining his woollen tunic. With a wetness padding the cloth, trembling slightly whenever your nail marked his skin.

Your fingers travelled up, up, skimming the calves, knees, and thighs, as he slowly spread them open. Chestnut eyes followed your gradually approaching body, crawling closer towards him. Heavy tail dragged on the soft sand as you slowly slipped out of the water.

Leaning on his arm, he gripped the sand harder, ogling carefully the mischievous loveliness twisting your lips.

"Ask me," you whispered, nuzzling into his thigh. Fingers slipped under the woollen cloth, pinching the soft skin. "Ask me why I saved you."

"Why d-did you save me?" he could barely breathe, feeling your digits dangerously too close to his leaking cock.

And then, he felt it. Your thumb pressing onto the wet head, teeth biting gently into the inside of his thigh. A cry rolled out of his lips, little grains of sand dug painfully into his palms.

"I think you're cute," slipped in a giggle, as you licked the bitten skin sweetly. He whimpered lowly, and you noticed crystal droplets swirling in his eyes. "And I need something from you."

But before Choso could ask what, your head slipped under his woollen robes. And then, something in his mind exploded. Sudden pleasure washed over his spine as your lips curled around his cock with a lovely hum, fingers squeezing the pulsing base.

"W-Wait– Ahhh!" his hand landed on your head, but he somehow couldn't bring himself to push you away. Instead, he brushed your hair away, letting himself take a closer, better look at your lovely face.

There was something utterly filthy in the way your pointy ears shivered every time another moan slipped past his lips. How your scales seemed to glow even lighter when his fingers skimmed through your neck, thumb brushing the warm cheek bulging with his feverish head.

You drank the pearly cum swirling on the tip of his cock with a hum before taking him in deeper. Till he could feel the end of your warm throat and muscles tightening around the fat shaft. Delicate fingers played with his balls, and a sudden cry ripped past his lips when you gave them a soft squeeze.

"M-my Goddess–" this time, he tried to push you away, feeling the dangerous heat once again coiling in his loins. "I c-can't, it's too–mhmmm–"

A sudden embarrassment hit his flushed cheeks at the thought of coming that fast. Needing nothing but a single luscious glance of yours and lips locking on his cock. Your head bobbed in frenzied movements, with low hums going straight into his pulsing cock and sending a wave of trembling pleasure down his spine. Nose tickled his pubes, saliva dripping down the veiny shaft, drenched in the honeyed sweetness of your mouth.

Pulling out with a soft pop, your gaze locked with his. "I'm not a Goddess, sailor boy," Choso wished to disagree, but your lips crashed against his. In a quick yet messy kiss, as you bit his lower lip, leaving him with a metallic sweetness and the musky smell of his cock. "But for now, call me whatever you want. As long as you'll give me this," your fingers once again squeezed his tightening balls.

Choso felt dumbfounded, madly besotted, with heart-shaped irises fixed on your face and lips slightly parted. "You want…" he barely pushed, not quite sure whether you were thinking the same thing.

But you nodded gently, giving his cock another squeeze. The flushed head was seconds away from busting, and you could see the milky trace of sticky cum coat the hardened tip.

"Give me a baby," slipped smoothly like a dream, causing Choso to blush deeply. Your hands curled behind his neck, then you pulled him closer, drawing him nearer as you slowly reclined, shifting your positions. "You're such a pretty, pretty boy," your warm thumb brushed his rosy cheek. "Can you do it for me? Do you want to make me pregnant, sailor boy?"

And Choso, with your tail between his thighs and your lovely little head splayed between his hands digging deep into the sand, could do nothing but nod. Slowly, with heat ripping through his body from the inside, and his heart suddenly skipping a few beats.

"Y-yes," he whispered softly, as you pushed behind the ear raven strands of his hair. A gentle sweetness shone in his eyes, melting your heart with its pure and innocent glow. His feelings were so pristine, as he desperately tried to hide this charming bashfulness behind an awkward demeanour. "If you allow me, my Goddess, I do want to–" his throat bobbed, another wave of embarrassment washing over his virgin body. He simply couldn't force himself to admit such a filthy thing!

You giggled, pulling him closer. Till your lips brushed gently and eyes met in a lustful crossing. "Then get to work, my sailor boy. Show me what you got."

Before Choso could ask, flustered, how this was supposed to work, you swiftly lifted your tail, putting the lower half of heavy, pinkish scales on his shoulder. Your hand curled around his, slowly, slowly, guiding it towards the swell of your ass. And then slightly down, through the hard scales covering your whole lower body. Choso tried to remember every little bump, each golden line curling around your tail like a halo, till he finally felt something else.

Something softer, slicker, hidden under a few flakes till you helped him feel the wet entrance of your pussy. His breath hitched, eyes crossed with your mischievous smile, as he sensed the slick coat his palm.

"Can you feel it?" you asked, but something in your voice changed. It became softer, more pleading, with a gentle frown appearing between your eyebrows. "Push them in, mhmm, just like that," guiding him softly, your nails dig into his forearm.

Two thick fingers slipped inside, and he immediately moaned, feeling the maddening tightness of your cunt. Gummy walls – not quite soft, but rather with slight bumps and swells – clamped down on his digits till thrusting them further was nearly impossible.

Choso had never been with a woman before and thus had no basis for comparison. Still, your warmth felt uniquely different from that of humans – slick, slimy, with bulges pressing into his fingers and holding them firmly. His two fingers were trapped in the soft, drenched embrace of your heated cunt, making his mind spin at the sheer thought of feeling you around his cock.

"My Goddess, you're s-so wet," he cried, curling another arm around your tail. His cheek nuzzled into the pink-scaled tail, and the silky fluke fluttered on his shoulder. "So tight, can you r-relax a little?"

When he tried to bend the finger, a sudden jolt of electricity dripped down your spine, and nails dug deeper into his muscular forearm. "I am relaxed, sailor boy. It–ngh–it can't get looser."

Choso was almost losing his mind. The warmth of your cunt burned through his fingers, soft bumps brushed his fingers as he pumped them in slow thrusts. With pads bumping into every swell of your gummy walls and honeyed slick dripping down the drenched sand. It stretched between his fingers, coating them in a weird, slimy softness, and, driven by sheer curiosity, he pulled them out.

Seeing the thought coiling in his mind, your eyes suddenly bulged. "No, wait, you can't–!"

But it was too late.

Two, drenched digits were pushed into his mouth, as he sucked on them with a low hum. His tongue licking them clean, a delicious groan escaped his tightened throat, as the syrupy sweetness exploded on his tongue. His mind started to spin, eyes rolled back, stomach squeezed in an almost painful pleasure and cock, if not hard enough, became almost stony. With head pulsing in feverish need as he brushed the fat shaft against the slick entrance of your cunt.

But something felt wrong… The heat that hit him was too strong, ripping him from the inside with a hungry flame that seemed to grow more resilient.

He looked down, seeing the pearly cum already bursting all over your soft, pulsing cunt, coating the lovely scales with waves and waves of thick semen. And yet, his cock was still rock-hard, throbbing with a raw need to breed your swelling cunt. With small folds puckered out, and a bumpy clit pulsing under the sticky droplets of his semen.

"W-What is g-going–"

"It's like an aphrodisiac," you cried, feeling his warm cum coating your needy pussy. "The slick, it's, mhmmm, you shouldn't eat it."

As the round head of his cock brushed your soaked hole, its muscles tried to draw it in. Your walls tightened around the throbbing tip, causing another surge of pleasure to ripple through Choso's spine and making him climax again with a sticky release.

"I can't, fuck, I-I can't stop cumming," a crying whimper rolled past his lips, as he nuzzled into your tale like a baby. "My Goddess, you tasted s-so, nghh, so delicious, fuck, so sweet. I don't regret drinking it, Idon'tIdon't–ah!"

Oh, what a lovely, whimpering mess he was. Although his massive cock ripped you raw, prising through the swells and bumps with a brutal intrusion, you still managed to giggle cheekily.

A massive arm firmly held your tail in place, while another hand moved down to your pussy. Fingers, a bit clumsy, found your sensitive clit, gently pressing and rolling the soft, pulsing button.

With eyes slightly half-closed and a mind clouded by pleasure, you stared at his face – completely miserable, crying, yet strikingly beautiful, with raven hair clinging to his open lips and a deep furrow across the milky skin of his forehead. His chestnut eyes remained fixed on yours, refusing to break eye contact, even as his hips moved desperately to meet yours. Messy words spilt from his loosened tongue as he kissed, licked, and bit the scales of your tail, making your thoughts whirl even faster.

"Don't, I'm–ahh–sensitive here!"

Deep eyes locked onto you, shimmering with a hint of mischief. "Oh, yeah? Where else are you sensitive, my Goddess?" he murmured, licking your tail again. "Tell me, I want to know every one of your sweet spots."

His thumb rubbed your clit, desperately trying to make your cunt loosen up just slightly. But it seemed that the swells and bumps coating your walls were already relaxed, forcing him to slide through the slick with a beastly thrust. Your cunt squished his cock till you felt every vein, every dripping pearl of his cum with a maddening accuracy.

Your arms spread open, waiting for him to bend over and bury his face in the plushness of your breasts. His fingers ripped the two shells covering your tits with a single tug, finally letting the swelled softness slip into his warm palm.

He leaned forward, folding your tail in half until the thin fluke brushed the sand over your head. "So soft," he whispered, squeezing your breasts with one hand. "My Goddess, you're so soft, e-everywhere," but before a moan could escape your lips, he captured them with his own, drinking in the sweet melody with a low groan. "Where is it? Where is your sweet spot?"

As no matter how hard he forcefully thrusted, how deep his cock slipped into your feverish cunt, it seemed that he still couldn't find this little button that would make you melt under his touch.

He pounded you like a madman, tearing through your clamping walls and sucking gently on your lips, as he felt each and every bump of your cunt. The filthy squelching sound bounced off the cave's wall, as the slimy cum dripped down the curve of your ass.

He mumbled, cried, whimpered miserably where is it where is it where is it, as his cock rummaged through your weeping pussy at a maddening pace, forcing your body to dig deeper into the soft sand. Your breast bounced with every thrust, eyes rolled back whenever he busted inside, filling your womb with heavy waves of cum.

As, dear heavens, he was cumming all the time – from the moment his cock slipped past your swollen folds, till the milky teeth sucked on your neck. The heat caused by your slick was constantly making him cum, till your lower belly bulged from the thickness of milky seed he stuffed you with. It flowed inside your belly, attracting his hazy attention.

His large palm pressed the lower, plump pouch of your belly, feeling the warm liquid spilling inside your puffy womb.

"It's, mhmmm, it's everywhere," you moaned into his lips, pulling him closer. Fingers digging into his hair, eyes glossy whenever the soft skin of his cock pushed your swollen bumps. "The things, ahhh, inside it's–" another cry filled his fallen lips, as the feverish head kissed your overflowing womb. "It's e-everywhere. The bumps–"

"Are your sweet spot?" Choso asked, feeling another wave of heat coiling in his loins. "You wish to tell me that all of them…"

"Yes, fuck, yesyesyes," your eyes crossed in pleasure, when his thumb pinched your clit. Rolling the little button between soft fingers, massaging it in small circles, only to tweak it with a little pain. "So good, mhmm feels s-so good."

And upon hearing it, something in Choso's mind snapped.

Again, again, again, and again, as he pumped his cock with sloppy thrusts. His warm cum filled your womb to the brim, coating his full length with sticky creaminess and spilling through your entrance. He plunged with brutal force, ripping through the swollen bumps that tried to lock him in place.

He pulled back from your neck, taking in the loveliness of your face, utterly lost in pleasure. Kissing warm cheeks, licking the chin, biting down on pointy ears till another moan ripped through your chest and cunt clamped on him tighter.

Tighter and tighter, until Choso somehow felt himself sealed. Your walls softened and expanded, embracing his pulsing shaft with an arousing, warm sensation.

"What's going on?" he brushed away the lost strands of hair stuck to your cheeks. "My Goddess, what–"

"We're, mhmm, mating," your head lulled to the side, and breathing suddenly became harder. He, on the other hand, froze. "You need to s-stay inside till I won't get p-pregnant."

But it was hard to imagine you weren't already with a child, with a lower belly bloated from the sheer amount of cum he filled you with. And when your cunt sealed him with a deathly grip, you finally came. Pulsing around his cock, drenching his hips with the slick sweetness, and bending your back in a delicious arc.

And Choso whimpered, feeling your warm cunt clamp down on him with short pulses, and pressing with his heavy hand on the bloated pouch filled with his semen. Till you cried right into his lips and allowed him to lick the sweat rushing down your temple. So beautiful, beautiful, my beautiful Goddess, bounced off your lips as he mumbled messily like a starving man. Rolling his hips with gentle thrusts, sending waves of pleasure down your spine.

You stayed locked for the next few minutes, and the moment Choso pulled out, his cum burst from your clamping walls. But he, oh, he didn't let it go to waste, quickly slipping beneath your tail and pushing the salty strings back with his tongue.

Drinking, slurping, sucking on your slick mixed with his, till the aphrodisiac once again hit his head. You tried to push him away, overwhelmed from the orgasm that ripped through you a mere seconds ago, but he was completely, utterly lost.

Sucking on your plump clit and stuffing you full with three fingers, only to keep the warm semen deep inside your womb.

He fucked you, caressed you and kissed every part of your body till the soft licks of sun started slipping shyly into the cave. Till your pinkish tail was coated in his cum and belly heavy, overflowing with the creamy warmth.

Sometimes he pounded your back on the sand; at other times, when your scales felt drier than usual, he put you back in the water, filling your tight cunt with calm waves slipping beneath your bodies.

He made promises, large and lovely, while biting and sucking sweetly on your nipples and coating the swell of your breasts with the wettest kisses. He fucked you madly and made love, as if cherishing the moment of intimacy meant only for the lovers.

And you, who initially intended to use him only for this purpose, began to breathe in every soft whisper. To nuzzle into his large, warm hands, kiss the skin on his neck, and look up at his handsome face with a gentle, tender gaze.

Thus, when morning arrived, and you both lay on the warm sand, turning toward each other, a quiet, shy voice said gently, "Allow me to go with you."

Your heart swelled, breath hitched in a tightened chest, seeing the pristine desperation beaming from his eyes. He sighed, feeling your fingers swirl the long, raven hair. "Do you know what you're asking for?"

He nodded, brushing the sweetness of your cheeks.

"You'll never be able to live above the water."

"I know," he added, eyes still kind and utterly hopeless. "I don't mind. As long as I can live with you."

And with a new, such strange feeling blooming in your heart, a soft okay, slipped past your lips.

There was a way to make him breathe underwater. Something sirens kept secret, never letting mortals know about such a deadly weapon.

"Drink my tears, then," you said, rolling him back onto your body. Till he hovered over you, with long, dark strands tickling your cheeks. "Make me cry, my sailor boy, and drink them."

Choso stared at your lovely face, taking in its divine beauty. "I don't want to hurt you," he whispered innocently, and you giggled.

Your hands curled behind his neck, drawing him into a soft, dear kiss. "You fool, there's no need to hurt me." A mischievous smile lifted your lips as you once again raised your tail and rested it on his shoulder. "I can think of a few different ways."

And Choso, as a madman, could only follow every wish of his beloved, siren Goddess.

Dearest anon, I hope your wish was fulfilled! And that everyone else also enjoyed it <3

Collection taglist: @silverklaus @buttclencher28 @anothergojostan @sirensdairy @waterisntwetanymoreiam @somekindofcelebrity @prome911 @iridescentshine @venussdovess @classycreationlight @bokenessa @sashabearsstuff @gater-grabber96 @venetiandream @luvducks19 @koreluvsspring @moonlight-inthe-sea @hashahasha @mysicnote @sukunasl-ttywh0re @princesstiti14 @kissthegoatt @chosoismyeverthing @getospuresoul @ane5e @thikcems @sukunahs

©liahcharms all rights reserved. Do not copy, plagiarise, feed AI, translate or modify my works.

[cheeseboy382]

Meow

[unxaid]

meowmeowmeowmeow

[alexiroflife]

"punishment" ⏾

MDNI, true form - heian era sukuna, a sequel if you will to this, smut, guys i;m sorry this is late i fell asleep last night lmao

ryomen sukuna x concubine!reader

Synopsis: After your attempt to flee due to the concubines' envious abuse, Sukuna brings you back to teach you a lesson.

to sum it up: maybe next time don't try to run away from the king of curses, okay??

WC: 6,934

Warning(s): it's porn smut smut, sukuna's pretty mean, face f*cking, BDSM themes, shabang shablow

A tight grip securing your wrist, tugging you along tripping feet pulls you past destruction at the hand of your abductor. Flames that roar through broken glass, piles of discarded, singed bodies, crumbled architectured arranged in a perfect trail toward the glory of the king's temple as it glows in red lamp light.

With a kiss still burning on your lips, your eyes stare blankly ahead in a daze at the muscles rippling through the lord's inked back, his shadow looming over you, creeping along the waste he lay for your sake. His heavy feet thud against the soil, and you have no choice but to follow his large strides and quickened pace as heat swelters over your damp skin. Ash and blood tinge the air, your eyes burning, yet you can not blink. You can not look away.

His figure bursts through heavy double doors, narrowly squashing the attendants posted there as he plows through the entrance to his temple, and down the long, winding, incense soaked halls that you know lead to his chambers. You could never forget the path, as it has long been engrained in your mind throughout the months of attending to his needs.

You don't miss the haunted looks that grace the faces of the servants as Sukuna storms by, tugging you mercilessly along. Your heart pounds in your ringing ears, wide eyes sweeping over the strange expressions, the fear, the glances that instantly dart away the second you brush past. The stench of fear lingers, intermingling with jasmine, smoke, and some kind of disinfectant. You stumble, brows angled, lips parted cluelessly.

You know that something is wrong. That what Sukuna said about killing those concubines is true. You can feel it creeping from your gut and over your chest. It tells in the lack of whispers that ordinarily carried each time you passed. It tells in the absence of judgmental gazes, poorly disguising the envy and disgust that has often been felt toward you among the servant class of Sukuna's home. It tells in the home's heaviness that doubles what it was before you'd tried to escape. And failed.

You are whisked to the bedroom you so often frequented, to find Uraume standing at his doors, waiting for his return with hands clasped and eyes dull. They flicker to you a moment longer than they used to, and your chest tightens. The tan skinned curse suddenly stops, and you have to muster up the strength to stop yourself from running into his back due to his abruptness.

Sukuna turns over his shoulder to peer down at you, crimson eyes glowing with something you still can not name. Anger? Disdain? Hunger? You can not tell, but whatever it is shakes you to your very core.

Your uncertainty further ails you, cementing the heavy pit in your stomach. You watch as Uraume steps forward to push open his doors before stepping back to the side, and suddenly, you feel yourself pulled around and shoved into the space. You wobble ungracefully, stumbling forward. When you look back in panic and confusion, Sukuna stands in the middle of his doorway, expression as hard as it had ever been. You see Uraume peer in from the side, and you gulp.

"Sit," Sukuna orders, bass thudding in his voice with the raise of one hand into the direction of his bed. You know he is not asking. Certainly not now, of all times.

So with your tail tucked between your legs and your eyes regarding him cautiously, you move to sit on the edge of his bed, silk sheets brushing your exposed skin. You feel his eyes still on you, and when you look back up, you are not mistaken. 

You, as well as the other concubines in your rank, have always known Sukuna to be an intense, rather hostile being. Everyone within the temple moves and acts accordingly, fearing the very worst of the creature's brutal reign.

As Sukuna's proclaimed favorite, you know his behavior all too when. You know when the intensity in his gaze is reflective of his ordinary disdain, and when it whispers something heavier, something starved, something maddening.The doors swing closed on Sukuna's frightening gaze, leaving you alone with the burning memory of those eyes, and what the owner prepares to do to you.

You swallow hard, shifting on the large bed. The gentle haze of burning incense and perfumes is stronger within his space, as it clouds the air with something thick and sensual. Paper lamps line the walls and corners, cultivating a warmth hardly strong enough to match the burning in your chest as you wait with your heart in your stomach and your hands in your lap, as you were always trained to.

You tilt your head up at the ancient artwork stretching across the ceiling, trickling into the outer walls with a stiff sigh, catching those ink markings of swirling clouds, trees, and mountains that open up the space and trick you into a false sense of comfort. Something familiar within this unfamiliar tension.

Your mind wanders to your fellow concubines and the abuse they subjected you to. Your arms sting and ache with the memory of their cruelty, the price to pay for this very circumstance, for Sukuna's undivided attention. You wonder what must have happened to them, how they fell victim to Sukuna's siege like the nearby village did. You recall the way he stood before you amidst the fire and waste as he told you that punishment was the only appropriate response to their horrid treatment of you, and you sit and puzzle over his words. You wonder if news has yet spread of your unwilling return, and the termination of your occupation of a concubine at Sukuna's order, whatever that may mean.

Your fingers raise to brush your bottom lip as they vibrate with his passion, his only response to your inquiries, to why he would bother to harm the people who harmed you, why you mattered so much to him otherwise. Your purpose is to fulfill him sexually and nothing more, or at least it was, and now you exist between a plane of uncertainty and fear induced by your love that you can not explain.

If you believe that the way I treat you is how I treat the others, then you are much stupider than I previously believed.

His fiery words ring in your head, and you cringe, tearing your eyes away from the ceiling. What does he want from you? If not mindless obedience, if not sexual obligation, if not fearful subservience, then what?

You jump at the sound of the doors reopening, revealing the King of Curses in all his robed glory once more. Your eyes widen and you straighten your posture, staring harshly ahead as his four limbs grasp the doors and propel himself through with a force that only he could possess.

The oxygen seems to suck itself from the room when the doors shut with a finality behind him, but he fails to look at you immediately this time. He moves throughout his space with familiarity, avoiding the bed that you sit upon to sort through a shelf in the far side of the room, behind china and small statues. You sneak a peak over your shoulder, watching the muscles ripple beneath the thin, plum fabric of his outerwear, the very robe he frequents on a daily basis, untied to let his chest, abdominals, and said mouth breathe.

(E/c) eyes roam helplessly over the curve of his back, how his inhumanely broad shoulders crowd over the nape of his neck and the shaped salmon hair that connects. You catch his burly hands retrieving some dark rope, and you clench your jaw, turning back to face forward once more with a deeper pit in your stomach.

There are many things that you would consider to be frightening about Ryomen Sukuna's countenance. His spontaneity is one of them, for no one ever knows what his next move will be, or the very lengths of violence he will utilize accordingly - his very violence being another, and the ease with which he acts. Swipes of a hand with a bored face and the blood of an unwilling victim that spatters over pearly floors. His indifference is haunting.

But scarier than his carnage, his eight foot stature, or his twistedly dark, demonic voice is his silence, and the anticipation of what he might do next lingering within it. And he has not spoken a word to you within the past five minutes of the two of you existing within the other's space.

The air is weighted with his imminent presence. You breathe in slowly, through your nose, and out through parted lips. You hear him continue to shuffle about, and you clench hard on your jaw. You've never been more scared of him until now, in the aftermath of your betrayal and disobedience that he drags on with the absence of words.

Then you hear him move. Your posture goes rigid as slow footsteps approach, and before you can think, he is standing before you. His top set of hands toy with a cut of rope while a lower hand props on his hip. In your direct line of sight, you stare ahead at his lower mouth as it provides the only bit of expression that you have seen from Sukuna since he found you. The lips twist in a devious, sharp grin as its large tongue swipes over them expectantly.

You gulp, then force your eyes up at the Curse already staring down at you. Lamp light outlines his figure from overhead, casting shadows over his face. A predatory glint lights his ruby eyes, all four pinned onto your face. You hear his grip tighten and loosen around the rope as he tugs it.

He hums, a thunderous rumble in his coarse throat. "Frightened?" he muses, voice lilting with an amusement that does not show on his face.

Your brows twitch and you breathe in sharply. "No," you shudder.

His second set of eyes slim. "More lies."

"Wh - no - I-" you stammer as tinted finger tips reach forward to brush along your chin possessively, condescendingly, while his grip tightens, tightens, tightens around that inky rope. Your defensiveness dies in your throat with the heat of his scorching touch, and your body wracks with goosebumps. "I'm just confused," you whisper.

"Is that so," he says lowly. You muster a nod. "And what is it that you have to be confused about when you are the one dared to try to escape me?"

Your heart sinks further, your brows furrow and your eyes go dark. Sharp claws curve against your skin, tapping your chin teasingly. Your lips move to form words that come much later than you intend. "I told you why I left."

"That does not make it right. It does not explain why you did not come to me."

"Concubines do not take their issues to the masters they serve. I surely expect ramifications for such a thing."

"You would not have been punished if you came to me."

"How would I have known that?"

"If you had simply spoken," he asserts firmly. "Even now, you withhold your true thoughts. It is clear in your eyes. In your mind."

His finger drags from your chin to tap against your head. You twitch, and his brow lifts with the tilt of his head.

"Do not attempt to fool me. You are already in enough trouble."

You panic. "My lord-"

"Speak," he grits. "And none of this frivolous nonsense you have been spewing. Spit out what you are hiding. Now."

"...But I'm not - "

Your breath hitches when his hand snaps to clasp around your jaw, grip settled primarily on your throat. He leans down, back curving to meet your eye level, pulling you forward slowly. His movements are drawn out, almost methodical and calculated, like he knows how each gesture, each touch, burns you, affects you, melts you, thrills you.

Scares you.

A pair of eyes holds your gaze while another wanders over you, the drag of your kimono over your shoulders and the soft skin it reveals, sweat glistened, glittery.

"Lie to me again," he murmurs.

The King of Curses watches something shift in your eyes, something like humiliation and fear mixed with the desire you attempt to push away, the desire he knows you feel for him, even with the threat of punishment looming over you in his form. And that fear he detects, it concerns a hesitation to be vulnerable above all else, above any possible aversion to him.

For even after Sukuna gives you every reason to fear him, you still can not combat the love that you have developed for him. The love that you absolutely refuse to name.

Don't worry. He plans to get it out of you, one way or another.

You see his jaw click, his expression still ferociously calm - strangely so. But you know that look. It means you have hell awaiting you, and he doesn't care to protect you from it. After all, this is your own fault.

"Get on your knees."

Something bites at your nerves, sparks them to life the moment the command rings in your ears. You stare up into Sukuna's eyes knowingly, anxiously, yet you can not outrun the longing. You can't outrun the instinctive way your legs press together, despite your frustration. You can't outrun the way your heart spikes with the low command like he knows you will obey him, like subservience comes to you easier than breathing, as he exudes a dominance unlike any you've ever seen.

And like the concubine you were trained to be, your body twitches into motion. You must be taking too long, however, as you can feel Sukuna's grip on you tighten as he starts to tug your head slightly to get you to speed up. That is your only warning.

Holding his gaze, you rise from the bedsheets as he goes to stand upright as well. Simultaneously, your wobbly knees slowly sink down to the wooden floors as his shadow grows greater over you. He watches your every move. His hand releases your jaw to rest over your head, and you settle onto the floor with a soft thump. Your eyes flicker down, and you see the monstrous tent that already threatens you through a layer of clothing.

His thumb swipes over your forehead, his hand planted securely atop you while the other pulls the tie of his pants, abruptly letting them fall from his sculpted torso and to his ankles, wasting no time in unveiling two thick members to you, one stacked atop the other, both angrily red as they continue to twitch to life at the very sight of you so close, your soft pants wafting against the aggressive tips.

A sound pitches in the back of your throat without trying, and you hear that delicious rumble in Sukuna's chest as he examines you, rope still tight in two of his veiny hands.

His free hand moves to grasp around the base of his cocks, past the trail of salmon that trickles from the bottom lip of his mouth down to the very top of his first shaft. With the hand over your head, he tilts you back slightly. Dazed eyes jump from his lengths back to his eyes, and you watch as a hint of a curve peaks sadistically over the corner of his mouth, sharp canines glimmering in the lamp light.

"Open up," he mutters, and you do. Your pretty lips part, the hem of your tattered kimono slipping further down your skin, pressing your cleavage against the silk, a generous display from the angle he peers down at you from. Greed circles in his terrifying gaze, and his smirk spreads. "Now do something useful with that mouth of yours, other than lying."

He pushes you in without warning, and your lips habitually wrap snugly around the top tip, your tongue rolling along the pink skin carefully, like you are not sure if you have been given such access to taste as you please. Your mental question is answered when you feel him push you in deeper, the width of his cock stretching your slippery lips open wider as you focus your breathing through your nose. Your lashes blink restlessly, your eyes stinging as his second dick curves against your chest, and you shiver with a hum of desperation.

You choke slightly as he thrusts his hips forward, shoving himself deeper, and a dark grin finally breaks out over his face, eyes lazy as he peers down at the precious, pathetic sight of you, a former concubine so cock hungry for him that you had to run away to avoid your feelings, to avoid just how much you enjoy this.

And you had the nerve to try to leave him.

"Look at that," he says, tugging you back by the roots of your hair, watching as saliva and pre coat itself over his heavy length as he drags your lips away. You release him with a pop and a shaky breathy, he watches, before pushing you back in and watching you swallow him whole once more. "At least this slutty mouth of yours remembers where you belong."

You whimper, nose twitching as a string of drool dribbles down your chin, your eyes going blurry. Sukuna repeats his motion, guiding you back to begin fucking into the wet cavern of your mouth at a steady, unforgiving pace. You moan helplessly, voice muffled by the monstrosity he calls a dick as he bops your head back and forth, meeting the pace he sets with angry, sure thrusts. He watches you gargle, your lashes collecting tears from your eyes with the curl of your brows upward. Saliva drips onto the expanse of your chest, just between your cleavage as the force with which he fucks your face ruffles your clothing. Hands tighten around the rope as the other reaches for the back of your head as well, his lower set of inked hands now pushing you in, back and forth, back and forth with the sinful shlick of your lips.

Despite his composed nature, you feel his second length twitch beneath you, his first cock subtly spasming each time his tip hits the back of your throat. Your eyes squeeze tight as you fight the gags, your thighs pressing together in a feeble attempt to maintain the pressure building between your legs.

"Don't you dare look away from me," you hear the King of Curses growl, stilling you at the hilt, your mouth stuffed full as your nose brushes against his pelvis. Your shoulders shake, and you peel your eyes back open to gaze up at him through heavy, glassy lids. "You know better," he hisses.

Any attempt to protest is swallowed up, your hair tangled into his grip as he rips you away, his cock springing heavily from your mouth. You rasp a gasp, pre cum stretching in webs from your lips before he angles you down, pushing you back in to give his second dick the same treatment. You swallow him whole on command, your hands reaching up to stroke his soaked length as he works his dick back into you with a low growl. One hand gripping your hair is quick to smack at your hands around his base, and you whine, dropping them obediently at your sides.

"Did I say you could touch me without permission?" You make a sound that sounds something akin to a no, to which the lord quickens his merciless pace, fucking into you with a new vigor that forces your mouth as wide as it can possibly go as you fight to breathe. Arousal buds in your crotch, intensifying with each slip of his tip down the start of your throat. Your nose burns and your lips dribble with fluid. Your face is flushed, and the filthy sound of your mouth struggling to take his cock fills the once peaceful room. Your eyes roll back as his fingers tighten at the roots of your hair, and your hands shake in your lap, eager for something to do.

Sukuna once more is reminded of why he has grown so attached to you as he switches you between both of his dicks with a lack of care for whether you feel like you can take it or not - what matters is that he knows you can. His eyes darken, scattering about your figure, the pearly tears that streak down your cheeks and drop from your chin, your choked moans that you trip over with each sure thrust, the press of your knees together that you stupidly think he won't notice.

And glittery eyes that meet his.

Such beauty before him only angers him more, as you thought that you could deprive him of so. He fucks your mouth accordingly, teeth grinding together and crimson eyes glowing with annoyance and need, need that is continuously self-serving.

"What's the matter, peach?" he urges patronizingly. "Mouth too full to spew more fallacies? Hmmm?" You feel him twitch again as you moan, keeping your eyes on him as he ordered. He grunts, the sensation of your velvety cavern wrapped tightly around him with such determination despite your persistent struggle momentarily blurring his mind. You feel so exquisite. Every part of you always does. His grip in your hair tightens. "Mmm, I think you're better this way. Don't you?"

You answer with a warbled groan that he follows with his own. "Is this truly a punishment if every part of your body screams that you were made to take my cocks like this?" He looks into your cloudy eyes, his heart shifting. "Look at you. How perverse. You love it. Don't you."

"Mhmmm," you manage between his thrusts, a subconscious response engrained in your soul as your fingers tighten around the bunched fabric of your kimono.

You miss the way his second mouth curves as Sukuna proceeds to fuck your face, rippled muscles flexing as you bring him closer. "Makes you wonder why you'd try to fucking abandon this in the first place. Since you love being used so much."

You muffle out something around his cocks. Sukuna grits his teeth, ignoring you, his pace faster, possessive in the meanest way. Your hands twitch to reach for his thighs to stabilize yourself. He keeps a brutal pace, using you like a doll that can not be broken, abandoning any desire to treat you gently. After all, you have to learn.

You whine and whimper, writhe and sputter, and you know Sukuna is close by the way he goes silent while his grip on you tightens impossibly more. Crimson eyes glare directly into yours, his jaw clenching tightly, lips snarling to reveal pearly sharp teeth.

Then, without warning, his abdomen tightens, you're pushed back down against it, and ribbons of cum spill into your mouth, down your throat. You jerk as his seed floods your mouth, threatening to spill from the sides. Sukuna clicks his tongue, voice raw.

"Don’t fucking waste a drop.”

You exhale through your nose shakily, milky threads fluttering down your tongue as you drink his release, forcing it all down, mindful of any that tries to escape you. His dick twitches inside you, the other spilling over your tits freely, coating your chest in a fresh layer of him. Sukuna's groan is low, long, dragged, and your stomach twists with his eye contact, a wet patch pooling beneath you.

He seems to cum forever, but you take it all with pride, licking him clean like the good, obedient girl he knows you to be. Not the traitor who narrowly escaped him. You struggle to mumble something around his length again once he has emptied himself completely, and he yanks you away. You sputter for air, your chin soaked and lips glossy with the rise and fall of your chest.

"What?"

"...M'sorry, Sukuna," you shiver, voice raw.

His brow raises, thumb swiping over your plump lips. "Are you now?" he echoes, and you nod frantically, your mind clearly already muddled. "Sorry isn't going to cut it."

Your pupils shrink, and your fate is sealed.

"Get up."

He doesn't wait for you to. He releases your hair and pulls you up by your waist, twirling you around. He guides you by the small of your back, bending you over the bed in one swift movement. Your chin hits the sheets, your back arching instinctively with the guidance of his large palm. You whimper softly as the salmon haired king pulls your arms back by your wrists, planting them just above your tailbone. He bunches your kimono up around your waist, revealing your drenched undergarments as if serving so on a platter.

Sukuna hums thoughtfully, swatting a hand over your ass, gripping the jiggling flesh after the sting that followed. You jolt with a yelp, burying your face into the bed. "Soaked already. How pathetic."

Stripping you of your clothing, you feel him firmly tug your wrists together. There's a brief shuffle before the sensation of rope wrapping around your wrists registers. You tense, feeling each winding knot that secures your hands tightly, leaving you with no freedom to move. You feel the next loops go around your forearms, and the final secure around your lower biceps. He pulls you up by your shoulder occasionally to loop the rope around, and a culminating tug deems you completely immobile from the chest down to your finger tips, an intricate Shibari tie keeping you pinned.

"Try to run from me now," he murmurs. You writhe, shifting within this new hold, and find that mobility is damn near impossible in this state, with your arms tied straight back and your bare feet planted on the floor, keeping you upright. He swats at your ass once more, watching darkly as the flesh recoils, before tugging your garments down your legs to reveal your dripping cunt, staring eagerly back at him. Lust pools in Sukuna's heavy eyes, his tips dripping from his release.

All four hands now free, two of them reach to spread your ass cheeks wide while the others reach for the lips of your heat, opening them up for proper access. He hums and spits onto your hole, watching as his saliva slides down the beautiful organ, your needy clit glistening with desire. He brings a hand to the back of your head and pushes you down, keeping your cheek pressed flat to the bed as he brings his stomach closer.

You gasp when you feel the large tongue of his stomach slide from the tip of your clit up to your bare asshole, the heat of its breath tickling your nerves. You moan out, and Sukuna grins. "You just can't help it, can you?"

You are given no time to answer before his monstrous tongue lavs at you again, gathering your arousal on its buds greedily. Your body wriggles beneath Sukuna's weight, his hands pulling your ass flush against him while his mouth works to undo you.

In the haze of your cries and the devouring of your fruit, Sukuna admires you from above. The curve of your spine as your pussy drools over his tongue, the pretty way you tug and twitch, and the noises that spill into the bed, muffled yet unrestrained.

This is where you belong. This is what life with you should be, but more than what you provide sexually is your presence, and Sukuna never understood that or even bothered to until now, in the light of your return, in the exposure of your hesitant vulnerability. Because despite how you claimed that you could not stay, that things were too hard, your body molds to him like he owns you, like he is the only thing on this planet that you truly want. You're just too scared to say it.

His tongue slurps at you hungrily, the rhythmic symphony of your clit swirling over it ringing out amidst pitched moans. The salmon haired king loves how you struggle, how your fingers twitch to reach for something that you can't touch. The dark rope presses into your bare skin snugly, the sight rather easy on his eyes. Your taste, buttery and sweet, your arousal dripping in puddles onto the floor. You're a beauty, a rare find, the woman Sukuna would split the world in half to find. And if he is so willing to strip you of your title as a concubine, then what is it that he wants you to be, as you'd asked?

The sex isn't any different, only harsher and more assertive to prove a point. But it's you he wants. It's you he craves by his side. Hell, if you'd just spoken up, he would have taken you, made you his sooner.

Instead, however, he has to force it out of you.

He rips his mouth away at the thought, and you whine in displeasure. He smacks your ass hard again, nudging his tips against your entrance while the mouth on his stomach savors your taste, licking up the stickiness at his pelvis.

He cranes over you, his back pressing to yours as he lips curve against your ear. "I'll teach you not to pull that fucking stunt with me again."

Breath is forsaken, as is any remainder of strength you had when you feel the burning stretch of two fat cocks bullying their way past your lips without any further prep. Your walls stretch and mold for him as they always do, your body well accostumed to the abuse of his dicks, but he usually eases you into two at a time, at least fucking your ass with one while your pussy creams around the other, but whatever sympathy he once showed for you is gone now as his weight presses down over your body and your pussy screams around his lengths.

You scream out, scrunching your eyes closed as Sukuna shushes you with a gentleness that does not align with his treatment. His thumb strikes your hair, his cocks inching deeper into you, forcing your hole open deliciously. Your eyes roll into the back of your skull, your breath hitching in your chest. "What's the matter, woman?" he muses, murmuring into your skin. "Can't take it?"

"S'too much, Sukuna, I ca - ah!"

“Yes you fucking can.” The King of Curses pushes in deeper. He groans deeply, your tight cunt snug around his shafts. He tugs your head up from the bed to look at you, admiring how your expression wrinkles with pain and pleasure combined. Your jaw hands open and the whites of your eyes are on display, drool seeping from the corner of your mouth. "Too much?" he repeats, slowly sinking deeper, yet to bottom out completely and you're a cock drunk mess. “Too bad.”

"Sukuna," you beg, pleading for mercy that you know will not come.

And then, with a jolt, he bottoms out, burying himself to the hilt inside your miraculous cunt, his lengths bulging in your lower stomach, the breath in your lungs practically nonexistent as you adjust to his incomprehensible length. "See how they fit? Like this cunt is fucking made for them, mm?"

"It h-hurts," you wince.

"Punishment isn't supposed to all feel good, now is it?" you shudder, clenching uncomfortably around him. "That's right. You know what to do."

Sukuna pummels his way into, pulling you back halfway to slam himself back inside. Your screeches are loud enough to travel through the entire temple, and Sukuna ensures this with pleasure. He watches your face contort with each thrust, watches how you practically break with him inside you. Sadistic desire urges him to push in deeper, and you go nonverbal, jaw slack and eyes fluttering as he sets a steady pace, rocking your slick pussy back and forth, keeping your ass flush against him with nowhere to run.

"Yeahhh, listen to her talk to me," he growls, allowing the silence to spill through so that the sound of your squelching pussy registers. You moan helplessly, more tears building at the corners of your eyes. His tips slam into you repeatedly, brushing the sensitive spot inside you over and over without any build up. He thrusts you into a state of overstimulation, forcing such intensity upon you. His nose curves along your jaw, voice low and tight. "Does that sound like someone who wants to leave me to you?"

You can hardly muster the words as moans spill endlessly from your sore throat. Another hand smacks at your ass, and you cry out. "Answer me, brat," he spits, his hand releasing your hair to curve around your throat.

"No!" you wail. "N-No, fuckkk, it d-doesn't."

"Then what the fuck," he thrusts in deep and you jerk forward with a sharp moan. "made you think that was okay? That I wouldn't find you? That I wouldn't make you answer for your stupidity?"

"I - d-didn't-" your words are scrambled, hardly intelligible as Sukuna nips at your neck.

"Fucking talk."

He's mean, knowingly fucking into you harder so that you struggle to form the words. In between your cries and moans and twitches, you shudder out fragments. "Didn't think it was o-okay."

"So you knew it was wrong and did it anyway."

"I-"

He releases your throat and pushes your head back down, this time face first into the sheets. He arches your ass up more, keeping a hand tight on your tied wrists, and plows into you. The sound of skin slapping and fluid squishing rings out in nasty echoes, bouncing off of the walls and back into your ears.

"This is what you wanted then, hm? You wanted me to treat you like the whores you’re around? Like the useless sluts who you let harm you?"

Your shoulders jerk stiffly against the ropes as you cry, your ass bouncing against his abdomen with each merciless thrust. You can feel him in your throat, your cunt gushing helplessly around him as he pounds into you like some deranged animal, like some beast seeking to mark you.

"After everything I've done for your ungrateful ass. You're lucky I don't split you in fucking half."

But he already is. Your mind is mush, your legs are numb, and all you can think about are his dicks working their way in and out of you, claiming you like some emotionless prize. And you love it. The way his big hands hold you tight, the way he refuses to let you go, the way he seeks to make a statement with the way he fucks you.

Admittedly, you didn't want to leave this. This intimacy, this shamelessness, but you had believed it all to be a transaction, just a component of your occupation.

But the way he fucks you now, like you've hurt him and he can't make such a thing be known, has your heart aching like your poor, slobbering pussy.

You hear him talking, but can not register what he is saying. There's a twirl of air and the room flips, and your suddenly on top of him as he lounges across the bed with a creak, his muscular thighs sprawled, hands gripping your waist and holding you upright as you sink back down onto him, your quivering thighs shivering around his torso. Hands fly everywhere over your skin, smacking you here, caressing you there. With his head propped against his headboard, canopy closing the two of you in, he watches his lengths protrude against your lower stomach as he guides you, your walls tight around him, gushing freely like you just can't control yourself.

Crimson eyes follow the remnants of his cum up your chest to the sight of your tear stained face, and those hypnotic, sex dazed eyes lingering on, his despite his harshness. His brows twitch, his lips curling, his balls tightening.

His eyes are the only things that soften on you as he takes in your glow, your tousled hair and flushed cheeks, your red eyes and stained skin. Sukuna is a monster, actively torturing you, testing the limits of your mortality, and you still look at him through the haze of sex like you need him, like this moment, this connection, is everything and the stars. You get so lost in him, in the way he nestles inside of you and holds you tight, that Sukuna almost forgets you were ever in pain. That you ever wanted to run away.

The salmon haired curse wiped away his concubines like it was nothing when he learned that they hurt you, that they played a role in your temporary absence. He would not think to do such a thing for anyone else. He knows it. Uraume knows it. The entire staff knows it. Everyone knows it, sees it, understands it, except for you.

And he could bounce you on his cocks for hours to wear you out, but what he wants is your truth, what he seeks to unravel in your overstimulation are the things you refuse to say otherwise.

A hand reaches forward to squish your cheeks, puckering your swollen lips and yanking you down to his. You moan longingly the moment your lips touch, his searing lips gaining control as they swim against each other heatedly, his thrusts slowing to sink into you deep, so that you can feel every inch.

You whine as his tongue prods past, slinking around yours to assert undeniable authority. Your tongues twirl in a messy dance, your chest slumping against his as your hands writhe behind your back. He bites at your bottom lip, drawing it into his mouth before releasing.

He pulls back to look you in the eye, and he finds it again. That human feeling.

“Why did you leave?” he grumbles against your mouth, his dicks nudging your walls as you clench around him. His jaw clicks, his eyes wild. “Do not say because of them. Do not say because you don’t want to be a concubine. Tell me the truth. Tell me what lies beneath.”

You go to push back in to kiss him, but he stops you with his grasp on your cheeks. You whine. "My lord-"

"I am not asking you. Use your words. You will not get another chance. Do you understand me?"

You don't have the capacity to fight him. Truthfully, you never did, despite how a part of your mind attempts to hold onto your dignity. You don't stand a chance, however, when the tongue on his stomach pokes out again to tease at your swollen clit, licking gently, adding just enough stimulation for you to unravel around him.

"I - hah - need you! I need you, I need you," you babble.

"That much is evident."

"B-But I-"

His fingers press further into your cheeks. "You what, woman?"

"I need you- I love you!"

And there it is, the words you could not say, the emotion Sukuna has seen in your eyes for longer than he is willing to tell you. The confession, the truth as to why you could not stand this place any longer, as to why you were treated so harshly by the others.

The truth as to why every moment with you feels like a memory of humanity that has long been discarded in the curse's mind. As to why he never wanted to lose you in the first place.

Sukuna grins.

"You love me?" he chuckles. "That is why you left?"

"I t-thought - mmm - you didn't care a-bout me - that way. I was just a co-concub-"

"You're not anymore. Get that through your fucking skull."

You moan. "I love you. I fell in love with you. I'm sorry."

Like he said. Pathetic.

Nevertheless, he yanks you back in for a kiss, something tender that does not align with Sukuna's practices. He holds you flush to his lips, molding his against yours in a way that you can not forget. Hands wander and hold you down as he fucks you through every high, every plea, every ache. And he doesn't relent. 

He does not let the night end until your hole is stuffed full, until you are damn near unresponsive, slumped in a pile of bones against his chest, your arms sore from straining against the rope.

It is dawn when he is done with you. His seed litters the sheets and your skin like a second finish. He hears you breathing, but no motion or other signs of life follow. Your cheek is flush to his inked pectoral, your limbs twitching in your sleep. Red marks in the shape of his hand decorate your bum, and smaller marks little across your neck, chest and stomach, the occasional bite found.

Sukuna peers down at the top of your head, the scent of sex heavy in the air. Your eyes roll behind your lids restlessly, your brows pinched.

He sighs.

Arms wind around you, cradling you snug to his chest. A hand smooths over the back of your head, and another traces the marks he left in his wake. You're a small thing on top of him, one that amazes him with your stamina each and every time.

You love him, huh?

He supposes he'll allow it. As long as you stay by his side. As long as you never part.You're his, he asserts in his head, a sentiment only he can be allowed to hear.Try to leave him again, and he won’t be so nice.

[jabesa0]

My submission for the ChosoWeek2026 event on Twitter ^^!! I chose to do day 3: gardener 💐🌼!!

I also recorded a Timelapse so I’ll link that below:

[seishmi-deactivated20260602]

fratboy satoru becomes pathetic in fear of you finding out about his secret. 18+

(part one)

love. a four lettered word written in swift strokes, uttered with imprudence. however, the word held depth. even more so, when it was used in a sentence. “i love you”.

but in japanese, the word held intense meaning. “愛してる”

mouths refrained from uttering it due to the abysmal warmth it had cradled. a phrase kept in the custody of hearts, locks rigid enough to keep it aseptic.

romanticists weighed the phrase to be a part of scripture and for satoru, it was no different. for the fact, he had been a part them once. before the frat lifestyle had invaded his existence.

before the instillment of arrogance, there had been intense insecurity. once upon a time, his metallic frames shielded his poor cyan visions. once upon a time, he was interested in theoretical such as boltzmann brain— encouraged to pursue quantum physics. once upon a time, he had steered away from foams of alcohol and smokes of cigarettes despite culture insisting upon it.

once upon a time, he had been lonely.

loneliness ate his bones like maggots devouring a dead body. solitude had become plastered on to him like wet clothes on skin. satoru hadn’t known of anything other than himself. satoru wasn’t allowed to know of anything other than himself. because he was different.

his pallid skin was luminous within the dark. his snow-like hair caused commotion for sights. his cerulean eyes captured all the oceans in those little orbs. he was a vision different from the typical, unfortunately, that became his curse.

cold touches of absence had stroked kisses on him as divine punishment for his parents’ sins. an unhappy marriage that reluctantly ended with him.

loneliness mangled him. ever since childhood. love absent.

he was three when he would toddle his way over to his parents’ vacant room and sleep on the middle of the empty bed, drifting to dreams where they resided in love. he was six when he had learned how to make toast for himself, sitting on the empty chairs imagining their presences at his sides. he was ten when he had finally accepted that he was just a nominal to them.

he had yearned for acceptance. he wanted to fit in. and somehow, he did. when he had accepted party invites. when he switched his metallic frames for clear lenses. when he let his hair settle in a mess instead of immaculacy. when he had forcibly let out laughter on incel jokes.

he finally fit in.

but on certain nights, he had always remembered one thing. one thing his parents always did with a facade.

his parents’ pacifying him with one lie. “i love you”. a semantic satiation to him. they said it as if it didn’t mean anything.

but to satoru, it meant everything. hence why, he never said it to anyone.

“what’s wrong, toru?” you asked, wiping away the lone tear that inertly slipped down his pastry-like cheeks. your brows shifted from concern. your fingertips subtly caressed at the damp trail carved by his sole tear. you sifted his face but all you could see was a slight lift at the corner of his chapped lips.

“愛してる” (i love you)

you had stopped, completely. as if your blood had completely gone cold. your eyes traced his face for any sense of regret or dishonesty but you found none. only a trembling truth.

slow tears ran its course down his face. you tried to wipe them but all he did was shake his head with a sarcastic chuckle.

“slap me”

“w-what?” you stuttered, needing assurance for what he had just said. “slap me, baby, please” his tone was soft, compared to the usual teasing lilt he possessed.

“slap me, please. c’mon. slap me, pretty girl.” he affirmed, harder. his hands tangled around your waist, pulled you closer. your chest adjacent to his. “why? wait— is this some kink thing?” your viridity sparked a light chuckle from him once again.

“yeah, it is” but it was a lie. truthfully, he wanted to repent for his actions. for the deception he had been giving you for the past months.

for taking that bet in order to fit in. to keep his name.

but right now, and for the last few months, he hadn’t wanted all of that. he had changed, in all honesty and subtlety.

“slap me” and you did. a faint mark of your hand imprinted itself on his pale cheek. impact robust enough to turn his head to the side. his eyes stuck in place, his irises dilating. for a second, you thought, maybe you hurt him. for a second, you saw another lone tear slid down, now against the red stained mark.

satoru gritted his teeth. it hurt but fuck, he deserved it. “slap me, harder”. the corners of his eyes were red, holding back tears despite them already falling.

he felt pathetic. felt insecure. felt numb. just like before. before the whole bet.

the palm of your hand connected with his face again, this time, harder. “are you s-sure—” before you could finish, you heard him.

“ride me. please.”

you moved against him, squelching sounds accompanied as your hole submerged his thick cock in. your raw pussy driving itself repeatedly on to his cum smeared shaft. the slap of skin on skin echoed vibrantly, moans engulfing.

his hands lay on flat on the mattress as he leaned back as if touching in any other way than lust would contaminate you with his dirt.

“fuck, ride me harder, please”. his tone was truly pathetic. it was of need. “damn it, please, please, please. don’t ever leave me” he was begging, pathetic. you weren’t sure what was going on. truly, you didn’t know what had initiated this change in him. he was not his usual self of arrogance and sarcasm.

but why would you ever leave him? he was the best lover you could ever ask for.

the one who was merit enough to seep in to the crevices of your sealed heart.

the one who had once drenched himself in the blistering rain for three hours because you were foolishly mad at him after an argument. the one who sweetly laughed at you and carried you to the bathroom when you had stained his sheets with your period blood. the one who had pricked his hands once when sewing your torn plushie as a little surprise. the one who would bow his head with a smirk saying “m’lady” whenever he picked you up for a date.

how could you ever leave him?

while satoru wondered, when will you leave him? would it be after finding out about that night— where drinks were passed around with topics. where naoya had started the conversation and mahito led it to taking your virginity for a year of paid drinks.

“seriously, don’t be a pussy” snickers of so had taunted satoru. and there it was, a poke in his head of insecurity and neglect. and in a covert panic, he had agreed.

and if that was the reason for your leave, would he be the bearer of truth? no— no, he wouldn’t. not at all. for once in his life, he had a nepenthe. he wasn’t going to let that slip. let him whelve the truth, just once more.

ink splattered on to the sky, stars glimmering in competition with the incandescent moon. satoru, stood in front of the open window, lost in thought. once again, in a reverie.

the weather carried a placid breeze, the petals of spring, cherry blossoms, falling from its trees signifying end. the loss of something beautiful. satoru loved the blossoms. something so beautiful, something so like you.

wet footprints of yours tainted the lacquered floor, stopping next to him. the moon’s milk glow, parallel to his skin, rayed on to you.

“愛してる” (i love you). he reminisced about it. on what he had said today. he hadn’t regretted it, wholeheartedly. he was made with every filth in existence, you distilled him. you had softened his sharp edges where he became a dull knife at your mercy.

and he was about to say it again, this time with a smile—

until

“satoru, was i just a bet?”

those atlantic eyes of his widened. hastily darting on to the phone you were holding, his phone that you were holding. chat opened. the group-chat between him, naoya and mahito.

before you could even slip out anymore words, his knees weakened as he fell on to the ground like the petals of cherry blossom.

do we make him suffer ..

taglist @blueyesuguru @miakanzaki @kentosoneandonly @taistoibelle @yungglean2003 @trsh-kitty @cooturee @whimmyjoi @sillyheartmoonnyx @nicolovesutoo @younghideoutberserker @tati-na @arminsgfloll @suyeomiiee @labbratz @loomislvrs

[unxaid]

bet tropes hit at some point

[rinaxs]

many do not know that sukuna had a wife. he intends to keep it that way. he will keep the story of you and your love in his heart, where no one else can take it from him. when time has taken you from him, no one will ever be able to take the memory of you.

when you died, sukuna erased everything about you from the physical realm. no statues in your memory, no songs about your beauty, and no poetry of the tragedy of your love. at first, he did it all in rage. when you were dead and your ashes blew away with the wind, he tore down the house he had built to foster the love in your relationship. he burned the letters you saved, correspondences between the two of you when he was away and drowning in the feeling of your absence. he destroyed everything that reminded him of you, everything that would haunt him in the years to come in solitude now that you were gone.

angered by everything around him but especially angered by how helpless he felt in the days leading up to your death. the king of curses, ryomen sukuna, bested by time. utterly ridiculous.

"no one is above fate" you had told him once. before all of this and before you had fallen ill. thinking back on it, it seemed like a cruel joke. but at the time sukuna had scoffed. the idea of fate seemed so far at the time, and even more idiotic. in this world, there was no god but him. at least, he tried to convince himself. in the end, you were right; no one, not even ryomen sukuna, was above fate.

while sukuna refused and fought against the circumstances until the day of your death, the most heart wrenching part of it all was how accepting you were to your demise.

you no longer fought back the symptoms and your impending end. partly because you no longer had the energy or strength to do so. sukuna knew that you only indulged in the medicine and constant visits from healers for his sake rather than yours. the both of you knew it was a futile effort. but this was not the woman sukuna had fallen in love with. he even told you as much in an argument that had gone too far.

"you were never this weak," sukuna spat in frustration. "my wife must possess the strength to overcome-"

"your wife," you interrupted, calm and so terribly exhausted, "is dying, ryomen. there is no medicine or cursed technique that can overcome time and fate. i will not let you curse me for something out of my control."

sukuna never cried. but the first time he did was this night; when the argument had festered into something harsher and he revealed a brutality he once swore never to show around you. but in this moment, he saw you. truly saw you; how frail and thin you had gotten over time since the sickness had overcome you, how your voice became lighter and weaker in a way that made bile rise in his throat, but most of all how deathly beautiful you remained. despite the effects of the terrible illness, his wife was divine. sukuna remembers the feeling of cold tears pouring in his eyes before he fell on his knees to the side of the bed. even kneeling, with his height and stature he still towered over you but he never once felt small until now. he wrapped his arms around your frame, his touch more delicate and careful than it ever was.

he weeped because his wife was dying. and all the power and status he possessed was useless.

after your death, his rage only ceased when he found a small woven basket in the ruins of your home. he was surprised that it was able to survive against his power. picking it up, he finds a talisman protecting it from damage. he opens the box to find a flower bud encased in a clear amber sphere. he recognizes the flower as the same ones you decorated the shrine with on your wedding day. he also finds a note in the box.

an unbloomed flower to represent the beginning of a new love!

he feels the tears pool in his eyes but he refused to let them fall. instead, he places the note and amber bud back into the basket. he digs a small hole and places the items in before covering it up and leaving the ruins of his former home with you.

the world has nothing to remember you by because sukuna is a selfish man. he believes nothing on this earth-mortal, curse, or even god- deserves the right to bear witness to you and the love you shared with him. so he keeps you in his heart even when you are long gone.

zᶻ ૮˶- ﻌ -˶ა⌒)ᦱ woah i havent done angst in a minute... this is a little sneakpeak "the longest goodbye"! its gonna be like, dead wife haunting the narrative, yearning/mourning sukuna, etc taglist!! @cttelina @bunbun812

[unxaid]

these dead reader fics are HITTIN

[unxaid]

need me my yuki x reader x FEM!CHOSO rn ngl oh someone please hear me

[yotume]

[cupidstrace]

@kamiflix

[starzshark]

itafushi yay

refrence

[kashatke]

kakashi x f!reader.

Kakashi didn’t mean to make you cry. That was the last thing he ever wanted to do to you, his precious wife, but he couldn’t stop the words from escaping his mouth: all you do is bug me, can you leave? The thing was Naruto had pulled a prank on him earlier that aggravated him, and Kakashi wanted to be alone, so he took that out on you.

You did what he told you to do and you left; now Kakashi was panicking. Your clothes were missing, as were the journals you wrote your life and bad poetry in, and the books you took pleasure in reading, those were gone too.

“I sent Y/N on a mission,” Tsunade said, eyes on her paper work, unaware of the tension between his brow. “She should be back in a week.”

You did come back. You came back haggard and tired with a smug looking Sakura strolling behind you, and a pouty Naruto who stuck his tongue out at the girl. Shikamaru huffed, arms behind his back, commenting how this was all a drag; he was glad to be back and hang out with his own team.

Seeing you made Kakashi’s heart flutter. Even when you look like you’ve been through hell and back, you were the prettiest thing he has ever seen.

“Y/N.” Kakashi ran up to you and you pause, looking at him. “Look, I know this isn’t the best time to talk but I seriously need to talk to you about something. You can give your report later and—“

A hug silenced him.

You, his stubborn wife, hugging him and all he could do was let his arms awkwardly hang down his sides. He wasn’t expecting that, not after what he said to you and slowly, he hugged back. Naruto gagged and complained about you two being love sick fools in front of him, Sakura hit him round the head and Shikamaru was long gone. Naruto, noticing Shikamaru’s absence, followed after him to bag some money off him to buy ramen.

“Don’t get me wrong, I’m not happy with you.” You say, clinging onto him. “What you said was out of line but the rational side of me is telling me that you didn’t mean it.”

“I didn’t, love, I’m sorry.” Kakashi whispered, his grip tight. “You don’t bug me at all.”

“Humph, of course I don’t.” You pull away to flick his forehead. “You owe me for two weeks.”

“I owe you for life.” Kakashi breathed out, one arm slung around your shoulder as the two of you walk side by side. His other hand was in his pocket.

“Even better.” You huff, leaning against him.

You made sure to let him know to never speak to you like that again, even going as far as making Kakashi sleep on the couch for a few nights. He grovelled like mad and after you finally gave in and forgave him, he was still at your beck and call. He knew better now, and insulting you was the last thing he ever wanted to do again.

Ever.

[unxaid]

kakashi x reader in 2026 oh my god i am squealing..

[liahcharms]

Hey! I just wanted to let you know that I reported your account when I meant to report someone else. It was a mistake, and I hope it didn’t cause any problems. If you want to see the ticket Tumblr sent me, let me know I can’t message you directly for some reason.

Everyone, be careful of those scammers. It's the second time I've got such a message, although the first time I got it in private. Yeah, you can't message me because I blocked my messages for everyone I don't follow.

This person's account has been hacked by some random guy who tricked them. Those are the messages I got a few days ago - BE CAREFUL, DON'T ADD HIM ANYWHERE.