#cw dark content

[pennylanewrites]

russian roulette [toji fushiguro]

cw: gun play, unprotected sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, spitting, choking, creampie, doggy, reverse cowgirl, mating press, kinda dark content, kinda dubcon at first, some soft!toji towards the end

general masterlist // jjk masterlist

“let’s play a game.” you watched intently as your boyfriend took a copper bullet out of a case. he brought it up to eye level, grinning mischievously.

you were used to seeing guns around his place. it was more often than not that you would tend to his open wounds in the early mornings, begging him to just go to a hospital instead. but this was different. he never used them, never even touched them around you.

toji placed the bullet in his polished revolver and spun the cylinder, finally meeting your curious eye.

“come here.” he patted his knee and you got up from your chair, making your way to him. you sat down on his lap and toji squeezed your waist where his hand fell. gun still in his hand, he touched it against your thigh, spreading it open. the cold metal left goosebumps on your skin as it trailed up to the inside of your thigh.

“toji…”

“i won’t hurt you.” the glimmer in his eyes said otherwise. your eyes curiously followed the gun’s muzzle that hid under your skirt, yelping when it came in contact with your pussy.

toji kissed your exposed neck with fervor as the gun trailed up your torso, over your heart, up your shoulder. finally, to your temple.

you couldn’t focus on the hungry kiss toji left against your lips, or the obvious boner hitting the back of your thigh uncomfortably. not when he had a literal gun to your head.

“stop.” you whispered.

“i fucking told you.”with one swift movement toji had you trapped under him on the couch. “i’m not going to hurt you.”

you watched in slow motion as his finger traced the trigger, your eyes closing shut when he finally pulled it. a slight push against your temple and a click was all you felt before he started laughing.

“it’s not funny.” you breathed out, trying to push him away.

“come on,” his strong arm pinned you down, the other pulling your skirt and panties down, “you’re fucking wet.” he licked his lips with satisfaction. his fingers came in contact with your clit, making your back arch off the couch. he pushed you down with the revolver’s front against your stomach, making you gasp.

with his fingers still massaging your clit, he leaned his body against yours to lock your lips together. his tongue played with yours, but it was quickly replaced with the gun. your eyes widened. he wouldn’t actually pull the trigger, would he? the odds were four to one, but still. you would be killed instantly.

“daddy’s gonna have his fun now, okay?” you tried to scream when he pulled the trigger, but nothing came out. a tear trickled down your cheek, trembling lips against his soft thumb.

“toji, please stop.”

“you know i like it when you cry.” his thumb moved from your bottom lip to your cheek, swiping the tears away. “let me have my fun now.” he whispered in your ear, kissing the lobe softly before moving down on the couch until he was looking at your pussy.

you spread one leg over the couch, the other over his thigh, and unbuttoned your shirt.

“what, did you come already?” toji scissored his fingers, showing you the juices sticking from them. “you might be even sicker than me.” he chuckled and tossed the gun on the table before turning his attention to you again.

“daddy, i need you.” you whined when his fingers teased your slit.

“you got me.”

his two fingers easily slipped inside you, using your wetness as lube. his other hand snaked up your body and wrapped around your throat, not applying pressure just yet. his fingers curled up, pushing deeper inside you, and you were so caught up in the feeling that you didn’t even notice him getting the gun again.

“you want me to fuck you with this?” the cold muzzle pressed against your entrance, and you would be lying if you said it wasn’t intriguing. you nodded slowly. toji pushed the muzzle inside you, making you moan out in pleasure.

it was cold and it felt weird inside you. toji relentlessly pumped it in and out of you, pushing it as deep as it would go every time you moaned his name.

“i could fucking kill you right now.” he chuckled against your thigh. he watched, mesmerised, as a ring of white bunched up around the muzzle. “and you don’t even care. you just wanna get off.”

his hand wrapped around your neck again, this time his fingers applying pressure to the sides.

“are you gonna come for me?” he picked up the pace, making the whole couch shake.

“yes, yes, fuck!” your thighs clamped together, your walls closed around the gun, your hands searching for toji. you pulled him in for a kiss, while he carefully removed the gun.

“so messy.” he palmed his erection over the gray sweatpants, watched the gun drip with your cum. he pushed it inside your mouth and you wrapped your tongue around it, licking it clean. the taste of the metal made you gag. “good girl.” he grinned and leaned over you. you opened your mouth, lolling your tongue out for him to spit on.

“toji…” you wrapped your legs around his own, locking him in, and pulled him closer. “want you.” you pushed his sweatpants down, fingers teasing the slit of his cock. toji slammed his lips against yours, picking you up with ease. he set you up over the arm of the couch, and you watched over your shoulder as he took his pants off. pre-cum was already leaking from his hard cock when he slapped it against your ass.

he used his hands to spread your cheeks open, the cold air bringing goosebumps up your spine. you felt his tip rub against your cunt, collecting your wetness. a whine escaped your lips when toji finally entered your hole.

“how are you so tight, baby?” toji’s voice strained as he held your hips back, slamming his cock inside you. your back arched and you moaned in pleasure. you could feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him as your walls fluttered around it.

toji knew he was too big. too girthy, too long. but he’d be damned if he didn’t try to fit snug inside you every time.

and you loved every single second of it.

his hand reached for your hair, lifting your body up so your back was against his chest. his strong arm wrapped around your stomach, locking you in place as he thrusted in and out of you.

“daddy, more!” you brought your hand down to your puffy clit, trying to satisfy that hunger resting deep in your stomach. “i’m gonna come!”

“yeah? you like this?” he whispered against your shoulder, his fingers circling over yours, pressing up against your sweet spot. “you like how daddy fucks you?”

you nodded, your eyes closing as you slammed your hips down, trying to feel more of him. the second orgasm of the night washed through you and you were out of breath, but toji was insatiable.

without pulling out, toji flipped you over so he was sat on the couch and you were on top of him, facing the other way. his hands raked along your body, his need to touch every inch of you obvious.

they ended up on your hips, holding tight so he could lift you up just barely, then slam you down on his cock again. you were hot and sweaty, your back and his torso stuck together and the sounds coming from both of your mouths filled the room.

“you wanna come again?” toji bit your neck playfully, reaching the end of the couch to get the gun. his fingers wrapped around your neck, barely applying pressure. the muzzle met your temple again.

“y-yeah.” you moaned out, lifting your feet off the ground to move your hips freely.

“work for it.” you could hear his smirk as he sat back, bringing you with him.

you tried to move your hips up and down, front and back, but it wasn’t enough. it was never like the way toji did it, and your legs were getting tired. you held yourself up on his knees and turned around with a pout.

“toji, i can’t.” you muttered.

“that’s okay, baby.” his hand left your neck and he pulled you back so you were snug against him. you breathed out as he slowly lifted you both up, then down, more of his length fitting inside you at this angle. “what are the odds now?” he pushed the gun against your temple.

“two to one.” you replied and gasped when he pulled the trigger again, only for nothing to happen.

“wrong. now it’s two to one.” he laughed, voice raspy as he bucked his hips up furiously, his thighs meeting the back of yours with every thrust.

“f-fuck, toji! i’m coming!” your legs were shaking uncontrollably and you would be lying if you said the adrenaline and the danger didn’t turn you on.

“good girl. come for me so i can fill you up.” toji guided you through another orgasm, his arms keeping your thighs open so you could see just how he fucked you.

“up.” he slapped your thigh softly, pushing you off him. “come here.” he wiped the beads of sweat off his forehead and sat you on his lap, this time facing him.

“what?” you asked softly after he kept staring at you.

“you okay?” you nodded, earning a squeeze on your arm. “answer me.”

“i’m okay. you’re ruining the vibe.” you teased, looking up at him through your eyelashes. your makeup was long smudged and strands of sweaty hair stuck on your face and neck, but toji always thought you looked pretty. too pretty for him.

“oh, am i now?” he pushed you on the couch and you spread your legs, but he closed them, bringing them over your head. basically folding you in half.

“toji, it’s not gonna fit like that.” you whined when his tip teased your fluttering hole.

“oh, it’s gonna fit.” he tested the waters, pushing the tip in only to remove it completely. “i’ll make it fit.” and with one thrust, he buried his cock to the hilt, groaning in pleasure.

your body was numb. he had never fucked you like this. even though the position was uncomfortable, the look on his face and his moans of pleasure as he thrusted in you were worth it. he brought your legs over his shoulders, pressing against your stomach with his hand.

“look.” he breathed out. you could see the bulge in your belly every time he thrusted. “oh, fuck,” he strained, “get the gun.”

you went to hand it to him, but he moved your hand so you were pointing it at him. with your legs still on his shoulders, he leaned closer to you until the muzzle touched his forehead.

“shoot.” he urged you, eyes wide as he fucked into you with fervour.

you finally understood how it felt. two chances it would draw a blank. one chance you would shoot his brains out. your finger fidgeted with the trigger and you tried to focus on anything other than the cock your walls tightened around.

click. blank.

you let out a sigh of relief, a small laugh escaping your lips.

“god, you’re so hot.” he praised you. “i’m gonna fill this pussy up.” he leaned down to kiss you softly.

ropes of cum filled you, making you moan in pleasure. toji slowly pulled out, his hand still around your ankles to keep your legs up. he watched with fascination as the cum oozed out of your gaping hole and he brought a finger down, pushing the liquid back inside.

“toji, it’s filthy!” you tried to protest when he brought his finger up and licked it clean. he finally let your legs go and you dropped them on either side of him.

“you did good, baby.” he praised again, leaning down to leave soft kisses on your belly, your stomach, between your breasts. “so good for daddy.”

[blueparadis]

~ :: ❛Electric Love ❜ :: ୨ content + warnings ୧ ~ f!reader, 3sum, dub-con, [un]protected sex, oral acts, use of pet names, specified tags with synopsis for each pairing utc, hc format; absolute filth that i havn't been able to get out of my mind. mdni & support banners by @/hitobaby· ʚ tag index. ɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝

neuvillette + zhongli // syn : Two dragons who wandered the earth with certain purpose, stumbled upon a villager girl whose fate turned upside down when they laid eyes on her. // monsterfvcking, dubcon, double penetration.

If you had known that kindness would have you ended up being captured, chained and caged in a cave you would have never offered food and refuge to those young men. During days you were free to go anywhere and at night they would visit you, Zhongli and Neuvillette would talk and dine with you. And when the starts would bloom in the night sky they would slowly warm up to you, get cozy and handsy with you. Their touch definately had something, something boderly human yet compltely inhuman. Once, out of curiosity you tried to runaway, but ended up getting lost because everywhere you looked there were just vast stretches of forest whichever way you chose to go. Besides, if you wandered too far away from the cave the blue dragon would always bring you back to their nest.

At night, during the dark Zhongli would cover your eyes for a second with his hand and when he removed them all you witnessed was darkness. you can only feel them, the inhuman side of such affection. every time they visit you for mating, they would deprive you of your vision. You could feel their cool slippery skin against yours, long and powerful tongue licking your skin, sharp fangs digging your skin and marking you in your most intimate parts: inbetween your things, around your boobs, on your butt, and sometimes calf muscles. And when it is all over, you would wake up to a nest made of scales of different colors, but mainly blue and yellow, glowing in the dark, during the night providing you both warmth and light. But they never properly mated with you. It always ended up with overstimulating themselves with you; until that night when full moon shone at one starry night.

At that night, they did not blindfold you. Zhongli had your back against his chest as his golden-brown tail kept you in place, his hand toyed with your nipples while Neuvillette became busy in between your legs, his tail moving ocassionally as he slurped your juices. This is the first time your eyes are witnessing their inhuman form: to see them in this way after so many days was overwhelming and astonishing but not rebuking: all the while you could only feel them. You extended your hands to touch Neuvillette head but Zhongli grabbed both of your arms by the wrists. "Look at me, bunny." he commands, also gaining Neuvillette's attention. They share a moment of eye contact as he pulled you up, his cock nudging your entrance.

Neuvillette partly standing, on his knees, scooted closer speading your legs and pushing his cock inside you. His large, predatory hands that exhibitted so much strenght started touching your boobs so gently and so slowly. He has been playing with your tits for a while; your nipples are starting to itch and ache. His tongue wets his bottom lip as he twists and turns your taut nipples but he gives in finally. He hunches down to reach down to your boobs to suckle and mark them, like he usually does. Zhongli silences your moans and whines as he starts to buck his hips against yours.

Its wild how their cocks are grazing against each other inside of you as you slowly lose your vision. you can feel them being close, the cave being slowly full of echos of growls and moans, squelching of skins and low dragon squeals. You recognize the venus in the sky for a second. their wings flap open when the knot inside of you tightens, and a gush of cum leaks from between the skins when all of you climax together. They huff and pant, their cocks still throbbing inside you so does your body as they wait for their knot to slowly unwind. You are entirely covered by their wings, the scales from their body start to peel off and deposit to form a nest. They share a look before digging their fangs into your neck, both of them marking your neck, simultaneoulsy as you lull into deep slumber.

Next morning, you woke up naked, both of them curled up on either side of you. This is the first time they had spent the night as well as made it till dawn, their scales covering certain parts of your body and a stinging pain on both sides of your neck. Now you know they truly belong to you and only you, a sense of protection fills your heart as you run your hands over the both sides of your neck. An act of kindness that promised protection in return from any peril that your fate had to follow. What a gift! What a blessing life is!

kaeya + dainsleif // syn : In the absence of the owner of Dawn Winery, Kaeya offers special services to the Bough Keeper, Dainselif // nipple stimulation, spit k!nk, voyeur!kaeya, exhibitionist!dansleif.

The moon smiles brightly along with the sparkling stars adorning the night sky. Lord Diluc has already left The Dawn Winery around evening properly telling you the instructions and procedures for each and every little thing. On top of that, he has given you the privilege to ask Kaeya for help if you need. The clock has struck midnight an hour ago yet Kaeya has been sitting in the same seat when he first turned up late in the evening, his eyes moving along with you as you work. If only Lord Diluc knew what Kaeya has been up to behind his back, then he would not have informed his brother about his absence tonight.

Taking off your apron as you turn around you are met by a drunk Kaeya up close, standing inches away from your body. “Darling, why are you in such a hurry?” He chins up your face to meet your gaze. “You weren't in such haste while working though. . .” As he trails he takes a sip from the wine bottle before inclining towards you.

“Lord Kaeya please, not here.” you whine but all he does is to pout, squeeze your cheeks. It is not like he has not fucked you before. He did. Multiple times in multiple positions. Sometimes those memories ravage through your mind whenever he shows up during work, gets you worked up; your hopes too and then leaves. He keeps the bottle on the slab behind you and slips his hand under your skirt.

As he pushes aside your panty, his squeeze onto your cheeks becomes stronger forcing your mouth open. “Lord Kaeya,mmm-mgh”

He lets a drop of spit mixed with wine drop into your mouth, eyes never leaving your before finally sucking your lips. A little wine spills through the corner of your mouth as his arms rests against the slab caging you in but it does not stay there much longer. You grab onto his collar returning the favour, tongue dancing against eachother as his hands squeezed your ass cheeks. You can feel yourself getting wet, nipples getting taut and tight, Kaeya’s lips has moved onto your neckline to your chest. He tears off your blouse spilling your breasts in the air. You quickly sit on the slab wrapping your arms around his neck but he continues teasing you by kissing over your neck, chest and around the nipples; and suddenly a chime freezes your heart.

A customer. Lord Diluc did mention a special guest would turn up after midnight which why you were being a dilly dally while working. A cresent blossoms over Kaeya’s face. His crotch is pressed against your feminity while you cling onto him out of shame, out of concern for being seen. He has not moved an inch since the customer stepped in

“we're already closed but I think we can offer special services.” He takes the bottle of wine and pours it over chest. “What do you think, Dainsleif?”

The customer approaches you slowly, one step at a time his eyes watch the crimson fluid stain your dress, drip down to your tummy. Kaeya licks off the wine from your chest, your cleavage still remains stained with red. The customer wipes off some of the wine running his index finger from your tummy up to your cleavage.

Lord Dainsleif is not an old customer of the master of Dawn Winery but he is a new customer to you. If anything you two shared was some accidental glances in past and now you two are going to share same air. The thought makes you welp.

“Not bad,” Dainsleif exclaims tasting the wine from his index-fingertip. His legs fold, knees touch the ground as Kaeya holds up your skirt for him. You still do not move, neither bother yo cover yourself up, but only look at Kaeya. “Tsk, focus.” he says before taking one of your nipples in his mouth and suckling hard enough make you bite your bottom lip as Dainsleif licks your pussy clean of wine.

Kaeya holds your hand, fingers interlaced as he watched Dainsleif eat you out. “C’mon darling, spread your legs. It would be rude to not to offer Mondstat hospitality to our guest, hmmm, don't you think?” Kaeya exclaims watching your eyes begging more of him as Dainsleif gets himself drunk on you. The night feels incredibly warm despite cold gusts of winter striking the city. The moonlight vanishes as the cluster of clouds shrouds the moon, enveloping g the stars; even such natural harbinger of time can not seem to bear such obscenity.

[vampyrsm]

‣‣ COR UNUM MASTERLIST | その時が来た

‣‣ Synopsis: A tale of how the Shogun's daughter ends up in the maw of one of the most fierce curse users to ever exist.

‣‣ Cross-posted on AO3 ‣‣ Final Word Count: TBD ‣‣ Status: Ongoing ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Cannibalism, set in Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, mentions of Buddhism/religion in general, sexism, eventual smut, slowburn, dead bodies, descriptions of wounds, era-specific violence & views, dismemberment, female reader, reader is not a pushover, reader is the Shogun's daughter, reader knows how to use a sword, Sukuna is at the start of his reign as King of Curses, cursed spirits, body horror, each chapter will have its own warnings, warnings to be updated/added, not beta-read, sporadic updates.

‣‣ Part ONE — Tsukuyomi 月読 ‣‣ Part TWO — Susanoo スサノオ ‣‣ Part THREE — Izanami イザナミ ‣‣ Part FOUR — Izanagi 伊邪那岐命 ‣‣ Part FIVE — Kuraokami 闇龗 ‣‣ Part SIX — Kuebiko 久延毘古 ‣‣ Part SEVEN — Hachiman 八幡神 ‣‣ Part EIGHT — Kagutsuchi カグツチ ‣‣ Part NINE — Kangiten 歓喜天 ‣‣ Part TEN — Shinigami 死神 ‣‣ Part ELEVEN — Tamonten 毘沙門天 ‣‣ Part TWELVE — Daikokuten 大黒天 ‣‣ Part THIRTEEN — Inari Ōkami 稲荷大神 ‣‣ Part FOURTEEN — Yuki Onna 雪女 ‣‣ Part FIFTEEN — Sugawara no Michizane 菅原道真 ‣‣ Part SIXTEEN — Suijin 水神 ‣‣ Part SEVENTEEN — Yomi 黄泉 ‣‣ Part EIGHTEEN — Kōjin 三宝荒神 ‣‣ Part NINETEEN — Toyouke 豊岡姫 ‣‣ Part TWENTY — Amanozako ���逆毎 ‣‣ Part TWENTY-ONE — Sarutahiko Ōkami 猿田彦大神 ‣‣ Part TWENTY-TWO — Homusubi 火産霊 ‣‣ Part TWENTY-THREE — Hanami 花見 ‣‣ Future parts to be added.

[rottiens]

Omg I just had the most disgusting stepcest thought...

Stepdad!Toji has you on his lap spread eagle as he talks stepbro!Choso through giving you oral... Toji's hands wandering over your tits pointing out things in your pretty cunt etc while Choso is on his knees observing learning and eating you out.....

I know megumi makes more sense but I don't care lol...

✮ tags. . objectification, toji is a pervert, stepcest, he slaps your pussy. ꒱₊˚⊹ divider credits!

you sob. toji has been doing that for long minutes now and your plump clit is so sensitive that you don't know how much longer you can stand to keep being used as a demonstration of how to satisfy a woman before you reach orgasm without permission.

with the help of your arousal, he slides two thick fingers around your clit without actually touching it. he opens your pussy and spreads it apart so choso can watch closely how hard you're squeezing… choso leans forward, you see him lick his upper lip and mentally note everything his stepfather tells him.

"you have to wait for her body to ask to be used, okay? you have to be patient."

you tilt your neck down to look at choso sitting at toji's feet, his legs crossed, knees in opposite directions as he gazes intently at your open pussy.

"this is the most important place," toji murmurs behind your back, his silken, husky voice sending tingles through your body. "see how she reacts if I touch her here…" two fingers massage one of your breasts giving special care to the nipple, tugging at it as if hoping to draw milk from there, the other hand is in the middle of your legs moving to the tune of his words over your clit and between your wet folds. "you see how wet it is."

"I see that." muses Choso, almost drooling.

you moan again. "toji…" you call out to him, you try to cling to his arms and improve the position you're in but his arms hugging your legs below your knees, keeping you open for him with your thighs pushing up to your chest prevent you from doing so.

toji slaps your pussy.

"hold still." then he turns to choso. "do you want to try?"

"yeah, i'm ready. i want to taste it."

[underyourbedtoday]

Simon Riley’s love is a terrible devotion. Hell maybe even a curse for just how much he loves. He loves with his whole self no matter the pain, you’re burrowed into his chest whether you want to be there or not and he will sew himself up so you can never leave him

Simon Riley knows pain like no other, knows what’s it’s like to take it and give it, and he etched himself into the very being of your life, inescapable, ever present, unending

This man is the threat of love. He will take care of you even when you don’t need it, you don’t want it, and he does so with all that he is, looming over you like the inevitable guillotine. He will love you but he will not do it delicately—if he could swallow you whole, lock you away, take all that you are into him than he would if it meant that you would be forever safe, forever his

His to love, his to adore, his to never leave

Simon riley loves with every bit of his being, even the parts that are broken and fractured and dusty and still buried and he does so like a stray dog that will follow you to the ends of the earth

[pastelclovds]

Primal/predator play?

No | rather not | I dunno | I guess | Sure | Yes | FUCK Yes! | Oh god you don’t even know

(cw: CNC, sex in the woods, and amab!reader)

imagine your lover running through the woods with nothing but a tight t-shirt and their underwear, the bright shine of the full moon being their only source of light as they try to get as far away from you. it may seem like they are in deep trouble, but in reality, they want to be caught by you. they love the thrill of you chasing them as they pretend to run for their life. their arousal grows when they hear your pacing footsteps behind them. your lover spots a tree root poking out of the grass and purposely runs towards it and “trips”. making them fall onto the soft, long grass as you loom over them.

you quickly try to pin them down as they struggle for freedom, but you eventually get the better of them. they rest their face onto the ground in false defeat as one of your hands onto their arms behind their back and rip their underwear in two. your lover gasps when they felt the cold air brush against their sex. “you should’ve known better than to run into the woods.” you purr into their ear. but they spit in your face, “go to hell,” they growl under their breath. you wiped the spit off with your fingers and put them inside their hole as they let out screams and moans.

they’ve already prepped them themselves for this scene, but you just wanted to make sure it would be too painful for them. you continued to play with their hole without another word, until you pulled out your wet fingers, held onto their hips, and filled them with your cock. they let out wails of pleasure as you set a brutal pace, uncaring who or what could be watching you. after a few minutes of railing into them, your lover closed their eyes in bliss as they reached their climax.

you didn’t stop your rough thrusts, causing them to be overstimulated and their sex throbbing. they turn their tear streaked face to yours, only to see your hungry-filled eyes. “i’m not satisfied, slut,” you say with an evil grin. oh how they loved every second of you using them like a cheap toy. degrading them until they actually began to believe their only purpose was to serve you. they’ve lost count at how many times you’ve come inside them. but they couldn’t care less, all that matter was you and pleasure.

[heartelysia]

busy thinking of...

toxic ex! gojo who only broke up with you because he needed to move on! at least he thought he did until you did move on without him, leaving him in the dust. he tries his best to forget about you! he really does, sinking his head into his palms the same way hes sinking his cock into the girl below him. but nothing feels good, nothing can make the aching emptiness in his chest go away, not if its not you.

god he didnt even notice how intoxicated he was with you until you left. you were everything he needed to fucking survive and you just up and left like your three year long relationship was nothing? toxic ex! gojo who will do anything for you back, buying a cup of overpriced coffee at your regular place just to bump heads with you every single day, buying you random flowers and leaving them in your break room of your workplace, texting you non stop even when you blocked most of his accounts.

toxic ex! gojo whos anger boils in the pit of his stomach when you rejected all of his advances, blaming you for all wrongdoings because this would've never happened if you loved him more! he would've mever broken up with you, he wouldnt have to go to the earths ledge for a tiny spark in your 'relationship', he would never have to end up with a fucking restraining order.

hes mad. hes mad that you moved on, hes angry that you left him without begging to stay together, hes furious that your life isn't in shambles. toxic ex! gojo needs you dependant on him, he cant just have you wandering off to another person so easily next time. so he does what any sane person does and stalks you from a distance until the restraining order expires, watching your life unfold in his hollow blue eyes.

dear lord knows how many things toxic ex! gojo has done to try and forget you but nothing seemed to work! from getting into multiple relationships, getting a brand new job in an area he has no experience in to travelling the world, yet everything he did seemed to remind him of your sweet smile.

as any other human being would do, as soon as the document hits its end, he shreds it up and makes his way to your home. you seemed too happy, forgetting about your ex entirely, getting random flings, meeting some new dude called toji, going on dates with said man. toxic ex! gojo couldnt allow that, you were his. you were his property even if you didnt know it and gojo didnt like sharing his property with others.

toxic ex! gojo who couldnt help but notice how many of your flings resembled him, personality or appearance wise, there was always something similar to your ex. that was until toji came into the picture, he was nothing like gojo and your ex felt his veins bulge in irritation. he was your first everything - from hand holding, kissing, picnic dates to sex - so you should still be with him!

he needed you back, he needed you to crawl back to him and plead for forgiveness but that never came. toxic ex! gojo who would break into your apartment when youre on dates with the new man, scoffing when he realizes you still left a spare copy of the keys behind the painting hanging above your door. god you were so easy. when hes inside your apartment, hes hit with the fattest wave of nostalgia.

he instantly heads into your shabby room that gojo stayed in whenever, inhaling the scent of your sweetness like it was an addictive drug. he swears theres a hint of his musk but it might just be someone elses considering its been two years. toxic ex! gojo didnt like that. he fucking hated that idea.

maybe thats how he ended up here, his voice whiny and airy as he desperately humps your pillow as he shoves his nose into the area where it covered your cunt. his poor cock was aching, his tip a burning red colour as the veins running down his thick cock throbbed each time he took a whiff of your panties. god he was so needy, after months of being unable to reach a satisfactory climax, just the feeling of rutting his hips into your pillow that you used daily made precum dribble out of his cock in buckets.

whilst youre happily on the date with toji, gojo is busy having seconds by staining any and all surface in his cum discreetly. he thinks hes never came this much just from masturbating, his balls wrung dry to the core just by the memory of your sweet cunt sloppily making a mess all over his balls and pelvis.

but when the front door of your apartment creaks open, gojo freezes, unable to hide the initial shock on his face. why were your sobs filling the silence?

part 2

[honeykaes]

algorithmic

pairing: xiao x afab!reader II 1.8k

disclaimer: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, dark content, yandere content, use of they/them pronouns, cyberpunk:edgerunners au, sci-fi, hacker!xiao, inappropriate use of ai (xiao), nonconsensual use of likeness, masturbation, handjob, blowjob, couch sex, impact play. Creampie, momentary foursome (if you’ve seen the anime, you know what I’m talking about), stalking, invasion of privacy, nonconsensual voyeruism,  rough sex, biting, descriptions of vagina, unedited

synopsis: when you joined the yaksha gang after stealing the sandevistan upgrade, xiao finds himself falling harder and harder for you until he’s completely obsessed. To statiate his obsession, he creates an algorithm to help him experiences situations he can only dream of doing with you.

Wǎnshang City—night lights shining for the very rich at the upper towers reaching for the heavens while the smog and sin consume the poor who couldn’t fathom reaching their hands that high. Xiao had seen glimpses of both in some sense.

He had a comfortable apartment, not at the highest towers but somewhere near but away from the slums he grew up in. As a kid, he was always talented when it came to programming, hacking and netrunning. His new lifestyle was funded by unsavory methods working with a gang known as the Yakshas. Led by Bosacius, they got gigs from an unknown sponsor. It unsettled him but Indarias and Menogias swore it was fine. 

He didn’t feel bad the blood he knew that was on his hands or the blackmail he gathered against Celesti-corp. Xiao knew to keep his head down and do what he was told and he would live a comfortable life for the days he had left unless a gig went wrong—but he didn’t fear death either.

He did fear you though.

There was something about your eyes, and determined face that made Xiao’s heart palpitate tightly in his chest. His cheeks grew flushed as he furrowed his brow.

You had come under the Yakshas’ radar after you managed to steal a military grade Sandevistan implant that Bosacius was supposed to get. Even when the group insisted on stealing it and even killing you for the upgrade, he uncharacteristically chimed up saying you could fill in Pervases old role as a Solo, just helping them run schemes with your Sandevistan implant that made you faster than human comprehension. 

As Bosacius hesitantly agreed, demanding Xiao become your “babysitter”, he could feel that fear begin to shake at him. The fear of how quickly and innocent you had wormed your way into his heart.

Spending time, going on runs, Xiao felt himself falling harder and harder for you but struggling and choking on words on how to go about it. Even as he closes his eyes, he can see your image laughing with him in a simulation he programmed on the moon.

He scoured through any bit of information he could on you: discovering you were a college dropout after getting into a fight with a classmate, living in the slums your whole life, you losing your best friend in a highway accident due to an egotistical executive not paying attention to the road. 

Anything. Pictures, videos, your social media, your address, he knew everything he could about you.

It was like a sickness, a virus that infected his mind; always thinking about that genuine smile and laughs you gift him with. 

God, how much he would love for those lips to wrap themselves around his cock. 

Xiao snapped his eyes open, downing the rest of his drink and placing it in the kitchen skin. He could feel his cock beginning to strain his sweatpants. He leaves the kitchen, cupping his appearing bulge with a soft sigh before finally reaching his bedroom. He closes the door, quickly taking his shirt off—revealing the various tattoos and upgrades he has along his torso. 

He grabbed a hair tie, pulling his hair up in a small ponytail and shivering from the change of temperature on his now revealed neurolink port. His hands grab the waist of his pants, slowly pulling the bunched fabric down along with his boxers. Xiao’s cock springs up, trembling and flushed. 

He crept his hand up, gently clasping on it as a whine emitted from him causing his cheeks to flush harder. He dragged his thumb to his tip, feeling the moisture of his budding pre-cum coat the pad of it. He jerked along his member a few times before letting himself go as he walked over to his nightstand drawer and rummaged, grabbing two things: a bottle of lube, and a masturbator port. 

Throwing the port on the bed, he squeezed lube into his other hand and clasped his throbbing cock once more, pumping it slightly faster and completely coating it in the translucent, thick liquid. Goosebumps began rising in the few places that don’t have upgrades at, the coolness of the lube adding to his sensitivity.

He lets himself go once more, grabbing his VR headset and throwing it on the bed before he joins. As he rests his head on the pillow, he grabs the masturbator port lining it up to his cock and sank down, velvety and gummy walls of the toy clamping down when it sensed he had bottomed out. 

“I’ll see you soon…” he muttered, putting on his VR headset and closing his eyes. As his consciousness finally adjusted to the simulation.

As Xiao opened his eyes, he saw you in front of him—eyes half-lidded guiding your finger along his lower abdomen. He was fully nude already along with you, seemingly on the couches of the yaksha’s headquarters.

You pressed your lips on his chest, leaning back up and flashing a not-so-innocent smile at him.

“Aww, Xiao. You always treat me so well…it’s time I pay the favor back,” you cooed, leaning into his ear. “I’ll let you do whatever you want to me, anything.”

“Anything. You should be careful with those words, you know. You better not tell anyone else things like that,” he grunted. You pouted, pressing your lips against his tanned nipple, darting your tongue out and letting it swirl around the bud. Your hand drifted up, grabbing tightly on Xiao’s cock, beginning to slowly pump him—he could feel the machine beginning to suck down and milk his cock.

“No one but you Xiao. There is no one but you. But don’t worry, I’ll remind you over and over again, just like this,” you cooed. A moan escaped from Xiao’s lips and his hips bucked, feeling you jerk him tighter. His eyes settle at your chest before reaching his hand out to squeeze tightly, furrowing his eyebrows.

“Is this how they really feel…is this what they really look like?” he asked himself, resisting the urge to sigh. His thumbs roll over your nipples before pinching them as you yelp. You stop pumping his cock before slowly falling to your knees, kissing along the base of his cock until you reach the tip. 

“You still seem so tense today Xiao. Relax, let me help you!~” you cooed. You opened your mouth, taking him inside of you. He watched as you gagged, trying to adjust to his length before sucking sharply and kneading the area you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Watching your bobbing your head, Xiao digs his nails into his thigh. When he looks up, he is shocked when he looks up at another, glitchy version of you gazing beside him. 

This version played with your puffy folds before rubbing along your clit, moaning his name repeatedly. His eyes zeroed in at your slick oozing out of you, strings of it connecting to both of your soft thighs. Just as he looked away again, another glitchy version of you appeared legs lifted high showing off the dildo you were pushing inside of yourself—also moaning out his name.

Overwhelmed, Xiao looked down at the first version of you, still sucking his cock as his hips began to buck once more. Shutting his eyes tight and clenching his jaw, Xiao unraveled himself pressing your head down further on his cock as globs of his cum shot into your mouth. You struggled to swallow all of it, taking a few gulps as some managed to slip down your lips and chin, staining the title floor with his shame. 

The glitched versions of you disappear as he left your mouth with a pop. Adjusting your body so your ass was in the air. He pressed his hand down on your head, into the leather of the couch—cock-drunk smile on your lips as he guided his tip along your slit.

He grunted sliding it back and forth, trying to slip in and missed before nudging against your clit. You whined, shaking your hips together as Xiao clicked his tongue in frustration. Xiao’s pace is relentless as he plunges his cock into you. The sound of slapping skin echoed throughout the room, vibrations from his pace rippling through your ass. 

“Xiao! Xiao! Fuck, harder! Even harder, please!!” you beg out, only causing his frustrations bubbling.

“They wouldn’t say it like that!” he growled, feeling them clamp tighter against him. He leans down brushing his canines along their shoulder and roughly bit down, digging his nails to their waist.

“More, more, more, more! I need more. I need all of you. I need it. I need you,” he hissed out. He could tell the copy of you said something back along with the line of ‘I love you’ but it was distorted, causing tears to begin to develop in Xiao’s eyes. His fantasy was crumbling down, this thing he was fucking was merely a cold, fake copy of you.

Xiao’s hips halted, as a grunt escaped himself as his second high of the night overtook him. Thick ropes of cum spurted deeply inside of the copy, before Xiao abruptly slid out and slapped their clit as they whined. The copy hummed while a small river emerged from their hole, dripping out and along their thighs.

“Y’know I still wanted you inside of me—”

“I still have to play with the programming if I want to protect it. Maybe make an algorithm to see how they properly would respond to these situations based on interactions I had with them,” Xiao muttered, ignoring them. “All the errors and the glitching is proof this isn’t ready yet.”

Xiao’s vision went black before he ripped the VR set off of him, revealing his bedroom—alone, with you nowhere near him. Sweat clung onto his forehead, bangs sticking to it as his eyes focused on the masturbator; never truly inside of you as he wished.

“Tck, pathetic,” he grunted. He slid the contraption off, throwing it to the side and grimacing at the cum clinging on his softening cock. Throwing his head back to the pillow and looking at the ceiling, Xiao sighed.

He doesn’t know how much longer he can go with just having you with his programming. 

He clicked his tongue, getting up from his bed and moving to his desk determined briefly to recode his pathetic algorithm but his eyes drifted to the spyware he had. Xiao clicked it, revealing your form. You were in minimal clothing, trying to deal with the hot summer’s night without air conditioning lounging in your bed and scrolling on your phone.

A rare soft smile fell on Xiao’s lips, before it darkened, noticing your hands beginning to wander beneath your pants.

It seems he may have the means to upgrade his algorithm with your true responses after all.

[cowboykento]

cw: yandere!fyodor, he treats you kinda like a doll, slapping, religious themes, daddy kink, hard/mean dom!fyodor

yandere!fyodor who really treats you more like a pet than a lover. sure, it started off normally, with him courting you, taking you on nice dates, whatever you wanted to do.

now, though, it’s different. ever since you moved in with him, fyodor had been subtly switching his demeanor around you. from encouraging you to quit your job because he could handle everything, darling, to making letting you stay home from any and all events.

you hadn’t even realized the changes were happening. you were so swept up in your love for fyodor that the alarm bells had been silenced, just as he’d planned.

even when he’s fucking you, he really sees you as more of a toy. a pretty little doll that he can pull his pleasure from.

“oh, you’re just so pretty for me, aren’t you, doll?” he asks, lithe fingers pinching and pulling the thin fabric he’s dressed you in.

a soft, flowy white lingerie set that, of course, he’d bought just for you. he just adores you in white—you are, after all, oh so innocent.

you melt under his affections, your cheeks growing warm and your brain utterly dulled from the danger you were truly in. instead, your heart just flutters and your pussy gets wetter.

fyodor dips his fingers between your legs before licking your arousal off of them.

“so wet for me, babydoll. y’that needy for my cock? just need to be stuffed to be happy, don’t you?”

you nod at him eagerly before he gives his command to “lay down then.”

you comply, of course, your mind knowing no other course of action than to be good for him. oh, he’s trained you so well.

the thought makes his chest puff with pride as he pulls his cock out, already hardened just from seeing you submit to him so easily.

“such a perfect pussy, princess. gonna stuff it so full, just like she wants,” he groans against your ear.

you whimper out a desperate, “please.”

“please, what?” he prompts, rubbing his dick through your soft folds.

“p-please, daddy,” you manage to get out, desperate tears pooling in your eyes.

he swipes away the first tear as it falls, “aw, no need to cry, my dear. you know i’ll always take care of you and that princess cunt, don’t you? don’t i always take good care of my little girl? keep you safe, keep you happy, keep you full,” he punctuates the last word by pressing his length into you, forcing a cry from your lips.

“ohh- thank you daddy, oh my god,” you cry.

your plea earns you a sharp smack on the mouth, “ah ah. you know better than to use our lord’s name in vain. guess daddy’s going to have to punish you for that, hm?”

“ah!” you moan, “ah- ‘m sorry, ‘m sorry, please don’t punish me!”

“i’ll have mercy on you, just this once, darling. but it’d do you well to watch that mouth of yours,” he replies sternly, rutting his hips against yours, stretching you even more.

he thrusts into you relentlessly, pulling every single moan and sob out of your body. at some point you go limp beneath him, but that does nothing to deter his desire, his need, for you and your tight cunt.

he reaches a hand around your throat, squeezing firmly, and that’s the only warning you get before he’s coming deep into your womb, pumping you full of his warm seed before even a drop can spill out.

eventually his thrusts still, but he keeps his cock stuffed inside your pussy, keeping his baby full, just like he promised.

he lets you fall asleep like that, holding you tight against his chest, savoring what is undeniably his.

masterlist

[blueparadis]

Yandere who is physically weaker than the other men of his age, politically powerless, restricted by the social hierarchy and who has often been bullied are like a seath of a sword. They have tasted hatred, humiliation and death like no other. Fear has long left his bones, he is used to this crude treatment of fate; has grown comfortable actually.

But when this very man is subjected to certain acts of kindness, suddenly he is experiencing fear, fear of losing you, fear of not seeing you again, fear of the unknown; and to avoid that unknown fear he will cling on to his darling like a leech: manipulate people around him to get close to her, be always the victim to receive her kindness even if that meant facing hatred, humiliation and be an abomination; just anything to get comfortable with this newfound fear.

[turtletaubwrites]

Bend Until You Break ~ Part 1

Thank you for this request from the lovely @anemptypuddingcup for a Yandere!Law that the Reader goes to for help with a serious health condition, only for Law to take a liking to her... I swear I will write sweet Law one of these days, but for now please enjoy Yandere!Law. This contains !!DARK CONTENT!! so please check the warnings, and skip this one if it may be triggering or uncomfortable for you. This one's for us hypermobile baddies out there. 🥄

Pairings: YANDERE!Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

Bend Until You Break ~ Masterlist

Word Count: 2679

Ao3 Link

Summary: You have struggled with mystery pains and injuries for most of your life, and had resigned yourself to suffer after every doctor told you there was nothing wrong. But when a world renowned doctor/pirate comes to town to offer aid in exchange for supplies, you decide to give hope one more chance. Maybe you'll finally find a doctor you can trust.

Rating/Warnings: Explicit Sexual Content, 18+ ONLY, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, DARK CONTENT, DUBCON, Dubious Consent, Swearing, Eventual Smut, Yandere, Manipulation, Power Imbalance, Hypermobility, Medical Examination, Medical Trauma, Medical Conditions, Chronic Pain, Injury, Physical Disability, Physical Therapy, Doctor/Patient, Abuse of Authority, Kidnapping, Possessive Behavior, Other Additional Tags to be Added, (Reader is described as having hair "above her shoulders" that she can brush)

A/N: This chapter is SFW, but I'm adding in many tags to start out with since this mini series will contain heavy/dark content. PLEASE heed the tags, and do not read this fic if you aren't comfortable with these topics. Some of these medical issues may or may not have come from personal experience 🙃

Extra A/N: I am not a doctor, and this is not meant to be educational, or to contain any health advice. Please seek a health professional. Hopefully you'll have better luck than Reader 🙄

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

I should just leave. He’ll just tell me the same things. It’s a waste of time. 

You were close to convincing yourself to walk away, especially as the discomfort and pain of standing in one place for so long started radiating up your body. 

The line got shorter, and you stretched and bounced, trying to hang onto a sliver of hope.

“Hello, how’s your day going?”

A talking polar bear in an orange jumpsuit waved at you from behind a small table, handing you a clipboard. 

“I-I’m well thanks. How…”

“Good! It’s always nice when the captain can help people. He’s the best! Just fill that out, and he’ll be with you soon.”

Looking at the form brought you out of the shock of speaking to a bear. Instead, it filled you with intense frustration, until you were practically boiling in your skin.

‘Rate your pain from 1-10.’

How the fuck am I supposed to rate all the different types of pain I’m in on any given day?

‘Circle the parts of the body where you are experiencing pain.’

I could put circles over so many things. Might as well circle the whole fucking chart, and have them call me a liar.

‘List your diagnoses, and family medical history.’

I don’t have one, doctors never find anything. Mom has some similar symptoms, but they're so mild that she's never tried to get a diagnosis. You’re the one who’s supposed to figure this out!

You resisted the urge to vent your anger onto the page, bullshitting your way through instead. You tried to write in the most convincing way to get this new doctor to take you seriously. 

This new doctor. “The Surgeon of Death.” A fucking pirate. 

But he was supposed to be the best, and he was here on your shitty little island for a couple of weeks, trading medical treatment for the town's supplies. You had already heard reports of “miracles,” that he could perform surgeries in an instant, that he could fix anyone. 

Please fix me.

This was it. You couldn’t take anymore trying after this. Just trying to get a doctor to listen to or believe you was almost worse than the daily pain. Almost.

“Miss Y/N? The captain is ready for you now. My name is Bepo, by the way,” the bear grinned as he took the clipboard from your clammy hands. At least you hoped it was a grin.

He handed the form back to you as he led you through the dimly lit hallways of this strange submarine. It felt like you’d entered some other realm, an underworld, on your way to strike a deal with a demon. 

As long as he can fix me…

“Here you are,” Bepo motioned as he opened a large metal door. “You’re in great hands.”

Hands. 

Hands were the first things you noticed as you entered the examination room. 

Those hands were tensed over the back of a rolling chair, gripping the thin padding as if waiting for you so he could sit down. 

Long fingers mesmerized you, tattoos etched along the back of each hand. And as you stepped into the well lit room, you saw the word “death,” spelled out across both sets of those fingers. 

The sound of his throat clearing snapped your eyes to his, your skin flushing as you realized he’d been speaking to you. 

As you realized how fucking gorgeous he was. His black hair looked a bit mussed, but it only added to the effect, along with his goatee, and his dark, pretty eyes.

Already more useful than my other doctors. Easy on the eyes. 

“May I look at your form, miss?”

‘Oh, of course,'' you stuttered, thrusting the paper toward him. “I’m Y/N.”

“Dr. Trafalgar. You can take a seat.”

Well, his bedside manner seems pretty standard, you thought with a small sigh, sitting down on the familiar crinkly paper covering the exam table. 

He circled behind you to close the door, and what sounded like a lock clicking into place had your heart rate spiking. 

“Stand up, please,” he said firmly, your form still unseen in his hand. 

“Oh, sorry. I thought you said–”

“Walk to the corner, and sit back down, please.”

His voice was unreal. You would have jumped through hoops for him anyway, praying that any doctor would listen. 

But his command seemed to curl into your brain, and you followed it immediately. 

“Why are you favoring that hip?”

“Oh, it…” 

Here’s where your credibility would fall apart. Your nails dug into your palms as you willed him to believe you.

“Sometimes if I stand too quickly, it feels loose. Sometimes it pops, and is so painful that I can’t put any weight on it.”

He stared at you for a moment, and you fought not to recite a list of excuses, to try to explain why it hurts when you’d never been injured before. 

“And your right knee?”

“Oh, it’s not bad right now. It used to swell sometimes, and was really painful. But it’s not as bad as it used to be.”

“Did you sustain any injuries?”

“N-No. None that I can recall.”

His lips quirked a bit before he reviewed your chart.

Believe me. Believe me. Believe me.

“You’ve reported your shoulders as being your most pressing concern. Why is that?”

His eyes were almost painfully sharp as he scanned you, focusing on your face as you answered him. He’d sat backwards on the rolling chair, his arms folded across the back with his legs spread wide to either side.

“They’ve been acting up recently. They often feel… loose. That’s how it feels to me. Sometimes if I move a certain way it almost feels like they pop out of place. But I can still move them after, it’s just incredibly painful. And then it’s weak, and I can barely hold anything.”

“What are some of the activities that have caused this to happen?”

He was impossible to read. But you couldn’t lie. He wouldn’t be able to help you if you lied.

“Um, brushing my hair. Taking off a jacket. P-Putting a sports bra on.”

“Did you used to have longer hair?”

“What?”

“Do you keep your hair above your shoulders to prevent shoulder pain? Or does brushing it still cause issues at this length?”

“Oh. Yes, actually. I used to have much longer hair.”

“I imagine you’ve adjusted many aspects of your life to cope with this pain.” 

Warmth flowed into that deep voice, and you shivered as you watched him steeple his fingers against his lips for a moment. 

“If you are comfortable, I would like to run through a few simple movements to check your flexibility. Many of which you can do on your own, but I will check in again if you are comfortable with me touching you for the others. You can always let me know if you would like to stop.”

“Okay.”

The doctor dug through a drawer to pull out a clear measuring device, almost like two rulers connected at one end. He adjusted it, creating an angle before setting it aside. 

He never picked up the device again, and you fought not to shake. He looked at your elbows, your knees, your thumbs, your pinkies, frowning slightly as you followed his instructions.

“Now, please bend over, and try to touch your toes. Just go as far as you– hm.”

Your palms were flat on the ground, just as they’d always been able to go. You could even put the back of your hands down, and stretch them along the ground behind you if you wanted to. 

“Doctor?”

“You can take a seat.”

Wincing as you sat, you shook out your legs, feeling his eyes as he watched your every movement. 

He stood, towering over you as he came close.

“For this next part of the examination, I will be touching you with my hands, and in some cases leaning or holding parts of your body against mine so that I can check the range of motion in your joints. I may also massage certain tight muscles to help you relax as we move through the problem areas. You have quite the list for us to get through, but if at any time you wish for us to stop, just let me know. Do you understand?”

“I do,” you breathed, your face angled up to meet his.

“Do you consent to me touching you?”

His voice came out softer once again, and you couldn’t hold in a shiver as you consented.

Those fingers…

His long fingers were so gentle as they crept across your body, testing, pushing, pulling. You fought to listen to his commands, pushing against or holding your body how he told you. 

“I imagine that seeking treatment has been challenging for you,” he rasped as he leaned over your face, his fingers gently massaging your shoulders. 

The pain and pleasure of his hands testing you had brought up a strangely emotional pressure, almost like tears in your throat.

“It has.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N. It must be incredibly difficult to suffer so much pain, and not be believed.”

You started to nod to keep your voice from cracking, but he pressed his fingers into your skin just a bit.

“Can you keep still for me,” he whispered, and it sounded so close that you opened your eyes.

“Just relax,” the doctor soothed as he stepped away, pulling a few tissues out to press against your cheeks and temples, catching the tears that had spilled when you’d opened your burning eyes.

“I’m sorry, doc–”

“No need to be sorry, Y/N. You have been suffering, been living with pain for years. It’s all those doctors that left you like this that should feel ashamed.”

His fingers had returned to your body, still relaxing, and testing.

“Thank you, doctor.”

“Please, call me Law.”

He was pressing gently along your collarbones as his name rolled over you, a small sound escaping your throat as you melted beneath him. 

“Do you have a good support system? People in your life that can help you with this?”

“I mean, my mom and my boyfriend help me. They’re supportive.”

He took those fingers away, and you mourned them, wishing you could feel that soothing touch forever.

“I’m going to test your hips now, Y/N. Please tell me if you experience any pain.”

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling self conscious of your breathy voice. His words just kept pouring over you, his voice so relaxing, so good. 

“How does that feel, Y/N?”

“Fine.”

He had your leg stretched along his torso, your foot dangling over his shoulder. You clamped your eyes shut. The sight of him between your spread legs, pushing your leg toward you, had you biting your lip, trying not to make any more embarrassing noises. 

“How’s this?”

“Fine.”

He hadn’t gotten close to your limit, but he went agonizingly slow. You could feel his firm abs warming your thigh through your clothes, his thin shirt not doing much to keep the press of him at bay. 

“You said that your mom and your boyfriend support you. How do they do that?”

“Oh, uh,” you shook your head, trying to focus on the question, and not the gentle rocking motion he’d started as he pushed you even further.

“They help me when… They help me when I’m having bad days. They listen. They both do little different things when things are bad.”

“How’s this?”

“Still fine.”

“You can go further?”

“Yeah, I can–,” you had reached for your thigh, planning to pull it toward your chest to show him, but his eyes above you stopped you before his voice did. 

“I’ll get you there, Y/N. You can hurt yourself if you rush. Can you take it slow for me?”

“Perfect,” he praised when you nodded, still gently rocking your body forward and back as he pushed, finally reaching the limit. 

“That is quite the range of motion,” he noted, carefully laying that leg down to move to the other side. “May I?”

He set himself up again, moving slow as he used his body to stretch you.

“You said that they help you on bad days, is that right?”

Meeting his sharp eyes, you took a minute to understand.

“Yes, they do.”

His face tilted a bit as he pressed closer. He started that gentle rocking motion, almost thrusting against you to help your body relax. 

“But Y/N, from what I’ve seen today, it seems like all of your days are bad. Aren’t they?”

“I…”

“All these years with no one to believe you. It must be hard to believe yourself sometimes. Do you think they really believe you, Y/N? Do they believe how much pain you’re in as you struggle through each day? As you stand up too fast, or brush your hair? Do you think they understand?”

He’d pushed closer, looming over you as he held your thigh against him. 

“Why are you–”

“I need to make sure that my patients have the support systems they need.”

His voice had smoothed back now, from almost heated to cool and detached.

He’s the only person that’s ever seemed like they understand. He must believe me. Of course he would be passionate about it, he’s a doctor. A doctor that believes me.

Closer and closer, his eyes watching yours.

“Do they believe you?”

“I think,” you started, eyes wide as you fought more tears, “I think they try to believe me. They just… They don’t know what it’s like. They don’t understand.”

“How’s this?”

“It’s fine.”

“Alright, last push.”

Your thigh was pressed between your bodies, and he stayed there.

“Does this hurt, Y/N,” he rasped, his breath warming your face. 

“No.”

He helped you stretch your leg out on the table, sitting backwards in the rolling chair before he told you to sit up.

“I believe I understand the cause of your pain, and why you’ve had a difficult time obtaining a diagnosis.”

“Can you fix it?”

Your thrill of excitement got caught in your throat at the look in his eyes, his palm up to halt your questions. 

“I believe it may be a connective tissue disorder, which would explain your hypermobility, as well as the complications you’ve had with many parts of your body. You've already met the criteria for one type based on our examination today. I would like you to come back tomorrow so that we can review more of your symptoms to be sure, and to discuss treatments.”

“You can do surgery, right? Can you fix it?”

You had gestured to him, your body panicking with failing hope. A gasp left your throat as those tattooed fingers caught your hand, his thumb rubbing over your skin as his voice went low.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. This is not a condition that can be cured,” he confessed, squeezing your hand as your body slumped. “Connective tissues run throughout our entire body, and if I am correct, yours may be weaker than most. 'Loose,' as you said. Unfortunately, there is no known way to repair or replace those tissues.”

A weight fell over you, and you found yourself not quite in your body. Your body that you’d fought so hard to fix.

That can never be fixed.

The doctor pressed your hand between his, smoothing over and warming your fingers until you were present enough to meet his eyes.

“It may not be curable, Y/N, but it can be managed. You don’t need to suffer alone in such pain like you have been. I’ll do everything I can to ensure that things are better for you. Do you trust me?”

There was something so intense about his face. The way he looked at you felt heavy, like he really did see the weight you’d carried all these years. You sank into those gray eyes, and realized you did.

“I trust you, Doctor.”

“Please. Y/N,” he hummed, releasing your hand, “call me, Law.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! Welcome to my frustration with the health care system 😅

Tag List: @shewrites02 | @jadeddangel

Part 2

| masterlist | about me | rules | ao3 |

[vampyrsm]

‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER ELEVEN | TAMONTEN

‣‣ Synopsis: Our tale continues with an insight into the dark recesses of the Shogun's daughter's mind, just how deep have the tendrils of darkness burrowed into her very being? Perhaps things will start to unravel in the light of a new vow...

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 11.7k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, vivid gore and horror, descriptions of bodily harm, jealousy, Sukuna is on the softer side here, smut (dacryphilia, oral f!receiving, spit, very intimate, double penetration, biting/marking, creampie, possessiveness with a hint of a primal kink)

“Watch your tongue, girl.” It’s Uraume who hisses the words. The girl in question seems to disregard Uraume entirely, uncaring for the way her haori flutters at her sides to reveal absolutely everything. You have to blink away the surprise on your face to give way to the confusion. 

Sukuna only grunts at the intrusion, heaving a heavy sigh that tells you that this woman is most definitely the guest of the day. His arm remains tight around your waist. As if he knew you were slowly coiling tighter and tighter like a snake once the unknown woman ascended a few steps closer to the throne.

“Yorozu.” Sukuna comments flatly, shoving a curled fist against his cheek when he leans against the armrest of the throne made of bones. “I told you the next time you approach me wearing nothing but a haori, I was going to add your skull to my collection.”

Yorozu doesn’t blanch at the threat, if anything her smile grows on her face when she manages to drag her eyes away from the arm looped around your waist and up towards Sukuna’s face. 

With the final step up, her lips part as if she’s ready to play his dangerous game of cat-and-mouse but instead… you watch the way her face suddenly twists in agony. The human body was so malleable, so easy to bend and snap until it was unravelled. Her screams were awfully loud within the grand room, bouncing and ricocheting until they settled against your ears.

You watched as her skin tore itself apart, twisting until it broke with a sickening wet ripping sound. Her once fair skin is replaced by that of blossoming red, it douses the white haori over her shoulders until it’s an entirely different colour altogether.

Mangled and beyond recognition, you still watch with a thrill that flutters in your chest. Her body is splayed against the cool tile floor, her blood seeping into the cracks until it flows away. Even now, the long-haired woman still screams — still wails as her limbs are torn, muscle and sinew alike ripping slowly… like it would if you were to sink your teeth into it. 

Would she still be worthy of eating after? Your stomach tightens at the thought, but not in disgust. In sick pleasure. You stare down at the writhing woman, the flesh of her legs is cleanly tugged from the bones that achingly hit against the stone floor with each thrash of her body. 

How long could the human body survive before it broke? When would shock set in? The human heart was fragile, like it was almost made of glass and anything could break it. You wanted to be the one to crush her heart in your hand, to feel the rhythmic beating of it as it still rested in her chest before you squeezed… and squeezed… until it burst.

A hand squeezes at your side and you blink away from the scene before you, only to find Yorozu is still staring up at you from her place at the bottom of the step. Sukuna has a much tighter hold over you, the tips of his claws dig past the multiple layers of rich silk and nearly pierce your skin. 

Not to hurt you, but to ground you — recenter your mind. As if he knew exactly what you had imagined. 

The woman before you, Yorozu, seems to flare her nostrils at the motion. Her fingers curl uselessly into the sleeves of her haori and yet—she still does not close it to hide her modesty. It only serves to spring more questions to mind, just who exactly was Yorozu to Sukuna? He seemed to hold no fondness for her in the way he addressed her, but he didn’t really in the way he spoke to you — did he?

“Spit it out, or get out.” Sukuna commands, a lazy look on his face despite the iron grip on your waist. 

Yorozu shifts her light-coloured eyes quickly away from you and back onto Sukuna once he speaks. Ah, so it was infatuation on her behalf, there’s no doubt about that. She looks at him as if he hung the moon and stars.

“Master Sukuna,” Yorozu all but purrs, the lilt in her voice makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end. “I have what you asked for.” 

That makes Sukuna raise an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move a muscle to get whatever it is he ‘asked for’. That makes Yorozu shift on her feet once again, the sound of her bare feet on the tiled floor is nothing short of claws on rock. 

“I didn’t know we discussed important matters in front of whores now—” She huffs a laugh, her gaze flicking away from Sukuna’s face just in time to miss the raising of his upper lip into a snarl. “Well? Get out of here.” That was addressed to you.

“You’ve been warned once. Watch your tongue.” He snarls in retort, and Yorozu’s thick eyebrows shoot up into her hairline. “Get on with it.”

Despite her initial shock at the tone Sukuna took with her, Yorozu clears her throat and plasters on a much too sultry smile for your liking. “The Shogun has returned to his home. He no longer resides at the Shogun’s palace—apparently, he had important business at the Zen’in estate.” 

You don’t bristle at the mention of your uncle or the fact he’s returned to the Zen’in estate. It was a grand thing, built by and for your father. It held multiple branches of the Zen’in family, all of them trained warriors with formidable cursed techniques. Some of them however had no cursed energy at all… at least that’s what some of the scrolls you had filtered through just a day prior had mentioned.

“He moved his army there?” Sukuna asks, his back straightening just slightly at the idea of slaughtering not just the Shogunate—but the entirety of the Zen’in clan in one fell swoop. 

“Mhm,” She hums before continuing. “The Generals and Sun-Moon-Stars are also on the move.” 

The Generals and Sun-Moon-Stars? You had no idea who or what they even were, they’d never been mentioned by your father when you had often hovered around him as a child when he discussed strategies with his strongest men. 

One of Sukuna’s hands comes up to rub at his chin in contemplation, an odd look on his face. One of deep thought. Whoever these people were, the generals and Sun-Moon-Stars, Sukuna most definitely knew who they were. But you doubt he worries about fighting them, he had no qualms about fighting anyone. He knew himself as the strongest. 

“Fine. Where do they move to?” 

Yorozu grins like a feline, her eyes nothing short of seductive. Oh, you knew that look on her face — she wanted something in return for her information. 

“First. You promised me something.” Sukuna makes a face like he did no such thing. “You promised me that you’d spend time with me. Alone.” 

That final word is tacked on with a vicious glance in your direction, aggressive enough to have your own eyebrows raising just a smidgen in surprise. Clearly, the warning Sukuna had growled in her direction just mere moments ago had blown right over her head. 

“I promised nothing.” His fingers curl into a fist beneath his chin, propping his head up further so he could sneer down the thickness of his nose at the woman before him. “You mean nothing to me. Why would I devote my time to nothing?”

“And a common whore means something to you?” She spits before she can reign in her tongue, yet she does not back down. Her head held high with a twitch of an eyebrow—she was at her breaking point. You wondered if she too had a cursed technique, she must have if Sukuna had granted her more than one chance to speak to him. 

Those long claws sink further into the expensive silk draped over your body, stretching the material until it gives way. He leans forward just slightly, an imperceivable movement but you feel the way he presses closer to you. Keeps you closer. Just out of the corner of your eye, you watch as his upper lip curls into a snarl and the words form on his tongue.

The lower arm of which you were leaning on snakes around your side too, a large hand dipping down until it engulfs the side of your thigh in a possessive grip. You can feel the subtle circles he draws with this thumb, and the way he occasionally drags his hand back and forth as if he were stroking your very skin. 

It has your toes curling, your eyes fighting to flutter at the feeling of his hands on your body whilst staring down a woman who wants him so desperately. That heat still simmers from earlier when the two of you had been alone to dress, only growing hotter and hotter with each pass of his fingers along your thigh. 

“How dare you speak of my wife like that.” 

The entire room stills. Frozen and suspended in time and yet it’s not your cursed energy at work — but rather the words spoken by Sukuna. He doesn’t spit the word like it was a curse, nor does he scowl at the fact he had told a lie about who you are to him. He plays it off as if it were the truth. Why did that make your toes curl once again?

Yorozu sputters. “Wife? Wife?! You–! You said you’d never love someone!” 

“I said I’d never love you. You, the lowly street dog from Ainu. You never would’ve served me other than warming my bed before you thicken my broth with your bones.” Sukuna’s voice is a dark rumble in his chest, the grin on his face nothing but pure malice. “Know your place.” 

Perhaps it was the shock at the words Sukuna continued to spill at his lips, but you can’t stop yourself from hiding the evident surprise on your features. And Sukuna seems to notice that, as he raises one arm to conveniently block your face with the sleeve of his haori so he can point towards Yorozu.

“Get out of my sight before I mount your head on my wall so you’re forced to watch me fuck my wife.” 

Yorozu seems to fight the urge to snarl and snap her jaws at Sukuna, at you, but there’s a drop in temperature in the room. An icy chill that rolls from somewhere, a location you quickly realise is Uraume themselves. The cursed energy they release comes off of them in thick waves, a thick mist starting to coat the floor to bite at the bare ankles of the humiliated woman.

Yorozu leaves soon after, turning on her heel but not before shifting her hateful gaze to you—to stare at you in the eye with a scowl so scathing, you wonder if she had attempted to burn you alive. 

The air in the throne room was stifling. A chilling silence that lingered far longer than comfortable, yet Sukuna did nothing to appease said silence and Uraume at least had the decency to resume her post at the bottom of the steps. You, however, weren't sure where to look or how to sit properly. 

His wife. That’s what he called you. A title he pinned on you in the face of a woman who wanted nothing more than the four-armed beast still running his fingers up and down your thigh as if he did truly own you – body and soul. 

“Uraume,” Sukuna calls finally, snapping the room free from its silence. “Leave us.” 

Uraume turns to give a deep bow, their hair shifting with the movement to hide their features. “Yes, my King.” And like that, they were gone in a blink of an eye.

Sukuna handles you off of his lap far too easily, two large hands grabbing at your waist to lift you and place your feet on the floor before he too stands. It’s no surprise that he doesn’t speak a word to you, instead wordlessly expecting you to follow him down the few steps that led away from his throne and out of the room.

You follow — because of course you do. But you’re not entirely sure why, perhaps it was because you felt somewhat safest around him or you simply knew you had no other choice. Not after the failed attempt to kill him once and for all. 

He leads you through the neatly cleaned corridors of the temple, tatami flooring swept and kept pristine. You’d think it was home to a Lord of some kind; not a man who had zero qualms about eating another person as if it were the same as eating an apple. 

The rooms you pass by are large, but mostly empty save for a few low tables and cushions that appear to be unused for quite some time. It only leads you to wonder who used to live here, before Sukuna had taken ownership. You knew it to be his ancestral temple in a way, this was home to him.

But it was so barren, so large. You wonder if maybe he had plans to fill it one day—maybe with a family of his own or he was just a creature who enjoyed a large space to call his own. The latter seemed more likely.

Eventually, Sukuna stops outside of a large door. It’s different to the others, unpainted with any of the designs that you’d seen on his bedroom door for example. Instead, it’s clean, unassuming, in fact, if you were to walk by it you would’ve missed its very existence. 

The room opens up with an easy slide of the shoji door, the smell that comes forth is one you know far too well. Old books. It has your nose wrinkling momentarily, stepping into the room that seems to come to life the second Sukuna steps a foot inside too. The lanterns along the walls all flicker to life, illuminating one by one until you realise you’re standing in a library. 

A very extensive library. 

There were tall wooden bookcases reaching to the ceiling of the room, and each of them was filled with a variety of things. Scrolls that were stacked atop each other, poorly bound books that looked as old as time itself and stacks of loose papers that seemed to be in a certain order. 

It put the small collection you destroyed in Sukuna’s room to shame, what was in there was nothing in comparison to this. This alone looked like it took years upon years to gather, stock up and organise. Was this the reason why Sukuna was so well-versed in all things political and cursed energy-related? He had all of the knowledge he could need at hand. 

Sukuna doesn’t stop you when you squeeze yourself out from behind him and into the open room, hardly offering you a second glance as he disappears further into the room to search for something. You can only turn on the spot to truly take in everything, this was far more than you ever expected. 

It may even beat the impressive library you’d seen in the Emperor’s Palace as a child.

Noting Sukuna hadn’t beckoned you to follow him, you decide to meander around for yourself. With careful steps, you begin to walk down a long aisle of bookcases. Some of them were unlabelled, simply put there by someone who knew what it was and where to find it when the time called for it. But some did have titles crudely painted and carved into the cover of books. 

All history books so far. Asuka Period. Nara Period. You stop once your eyes find the title; Heian Period. No doubt it’d be incomplete, but you wondered just what had been documented so far. So much had happened in a short amount of time since the end of the Nara Period, something your father had often lectured you on as did your teacher. 

You pluck it from the shelf, the wave of dust itches at your nose and the tips of your fingers. You can’t help but grimace as it stains your pristine outfit with little specks of grey. The book itself was thick, but you could tell that most of the pages were empty; waiting to be filled in by whoever would ensure the future generations knew what had occurred. 

The start of the book is something you’d already learned previously; the movement of the Emperor and how he claimed the capital of Japan. Nothing was out of the ordinary there, but the further you began to read into it… the more you realised it was filled with blatant lies or simply nothing at all.

You stop when you see your father's name written across the page in black ink, his full imperial title. It states his death, but not the cause. Simply that your uncle had transcended to the position of Shogun in the wake of his death. None of this was surprising, but rather it was the history of your father that has you stalling. 

You knew him as a man of great peace and understanding, even if he was a hardened warrior. He wanted peace like no other, a world where he didn’t have to worry for the safety of his children—the safety of you. But here it states you did not exist. A Shogun with a deceased wife and no children, no heirs. Nothing. You were wiped clean of the history slate as if you weren’t anyone or anything at all. 

Was this the Emperor’s doing? Did he hold sway over the historians who documented everything? Or was it your Uncle, the underlying fear that his brother's daughter would come back with a vengeance and seize the title from him?

“Does it bother you that they wrote you off as nothing?” Sukuna’s voice is much too close. It can’t be helped when you practically jump out of your skin, fingers fumbling to make sure you don’t drop the book–or worse, swing it at the man who approached you with a trained silence.

“It does, doesn’t it? That Samurai pride of yours… No, not just that. The insufferable pride of the Zen’in clan still can’t be snuffed out even in the rejects of the family.” His words are mean, as they always are but something tells you that he isn’t coming completely from a place of total malice and hate—he’s simply telling you what you already know. 

But you don’t let him know that you’re aware of the truth he speaks. 

“No.” You speak with every ounce of self-confidence you can muster, hunkering down on the tone you had often heard your very father speak in— “No. What bothers me is you daring to claim me as your wife, in front of a woman who pines for you no less.” 

His presence behind you remains close, but you can tell he’s standing once again at his full height. So you turn to him once you replace the book on the shelf, and he’s staring down at you with an indifferent look on his features; he doesn’t care for your insolence or tone that you take with him it would seem. 

“You used me to make that woman jealous. Didn’t you? Dressed me up as some sort of bride and then splayed me on your lap like a prized house cat. How dare you.”

Sukuna stares at you for a tense long moment, maybe it was only a few seconds in reality but he stares at you like he would if you were a battle, a conquest that he’s figuring out how to conquer.

“Your tongue lashes with such poison and yet,” he leans in much too close, forcing your back to press into the wooden bookcase behind you. “Yet… I can smell just what it did to you, what it still does to you.” 

He cages you effortlessly, large hands pressing against the shelves on either side of you to lock you into place as he lowers his face down until he is level with your own. His eyes are all directed at you, watching with such scrutiny that you can feel him just beneath your skin; searching your very soul.

“You’re lying.” You can only breathe in return, even on your tongue you can taste your very own lie. You knew, deep down, that he was telling you the truth — he could smell your arousal, and that thought alone was electrifying in its own way. 

“Only one of us is a liar presently.” He heaves in a heavy breath through his nose as if to prove his point, and you have a front-row view of his eyes nearly rolling into the back of his head whilst his pupils dilate just enough to nearly swallow the violent crimson of his eyes. 

Your heart thunders in your chest, batters against your very rib cage because he’s right. You’re lying to yourself. It had made something in your stomach churn pleasantly when he had openly laid a claim to you like that, to call you his wife in front of not just Yorozu but his right-hand Uraume… it thrilled you to no end. 

But you knew. You knew Sukuna didn’t believe in things such as marriage, or even love. It was foolish to believe for a second that he meant it as anything but a way to get rid of a headache that continued to pester him for his time. Another means to an end; that’s what your first ‘marriage’ was. A powerful pawn in the hands of a selfish man.

Sukuna hums quietly to himself, reaching up a hand used to brutalise men and women without a second thought. He brushes a large thumb over the apple of your cheek, rolling it down until he meets your jawline. You feel the wetness smudge beneath the pad of his finger — you hadn’t even realised you were crying. 

“I’ve always thought you were such a beautiful crier. You cried too the night you were meant to die, and I thought to myself… no woman had ever looked more beautiful than you did. With blood on your throat, and in the cracks of your teeth… crying.” It’s perverse, yet it has your eyelashes fluttering when he makes another pass of his thumb to swipe at your falling tears.

He leans in once again, his hand slipping away from your cheek to encase itself around your throat. His fingers squeeze gently, an impulsive reflex you think when his lips are within reach of your own. His lower set of eyes are nearly shut completely, whilst he looks at you through thick eyelashes with the other pair.

It’s intoxicating to be this close to him, a mixture of fear and arousal that blend so perfectly together you can’t tell one from the other. He could tear your very throat out in the blink of an eye, slice you into a million pieces and you’d never be found again. But he holds you with a sense of gentleness, his thumb making the barest of movements just beneath the corner of your jaw. 

You expect him to lean in to kiss you, to give in to that primal instinct to press against another human being but instead, his lips brush away from your own. They find home against your cheek, before he ever so slowly drags his tongue up along the tear tracks. 

He angles his head after his tongue follows along that watery path, until his lips brush against the shell of your ear. His breath is warm when his lips part, “You’d never be nothing with me.”

It’s sinful how easily he can drop the harshness of his voice, how he can soothe out the deep ridges until his voice is nothing but a rumbling purr. It takes great strength on your part to not let your eyes flutter closed and to part your lips to tell him just how much you enjoyed when he spoke to you like that.

“Is that what you want? To be something, to be someone?” Another deep inhale through his nose, no doubt savouring the scent of your apparent arousal. “With me, you could be so much more than just someone.”

“How?” Your own voice is nothing but a whisper, but Sukuna hears you as clear as day. His face breaks into that feline-like smile, brushing his lips against the lobe of your ear before he rounds back around to look you in the eye. 

“You’ve already given part of yourself to me, but the rest… give me the rest of you.” 

Your blood roars in your ears, screams at you to refuse to fall for another one of his deals—a bargain with the devil himself. But the way his fingers drag down from their place at your throat, gently prying apart your carefully planned outfit until the tips of those fingers brush over your collarbone. It’s impossible to listen to anything but your desire; a desire for more.

It was simple human nature. To want to become something more, to make a mark on the world that had been designed to oppress you as a woman – you wanted to be the reason why men feared your name, why they put you in the history books simply because you were someone. He was offering you power, plain and simple. 

You have to wet your lips to get your words to roll from your tongue, and Sukuna looks far too pleased with the effect he’s having on your body. “I don’t—How?” You repeat yourself. 

“A Binding vow.” He replies predictably, and his grin grows more wolfish when he sees the recollection dawn on your face. You couldn’t get out of the vow even if you tried once the terms were set. “I promise it won’t be as complicated as the first.” 

Those same fingers that were pushing your kimono apart succeed, it falls limply to rest atop your breasts. You expect him to pry it open further but he doesn’t, instead his eyes shift away from your own to settle on the centre of your chest. His fingers brush slowly, gently, along the area as if he were caressing your heart directly. 

“Give me your heart.” It comes from his mouth so easily, as if he hadn’t asked for the one thing that keeps you alive. It makes your skin sweaty beneath his touch, hairs rising on the back of your neck as if your brain finally caught up with the fact you’re pinned uselessly beneath a great beast. “And you will have mine. That’s the vow.” 

“That’s it?” It seemed far too simple, far too vague that it seemed almost like a joke. Like he was playing on your emotions. “How does killing me give me what I want?”

“I don’t mean literally giving me your heart. Not yet, anyway.” He breathes with a grin, his fingers pressing harder against the softness of your chest until his claws start to dig into the flesh. “Binding the heart should theoretically tie you to my own lifeline, you’d have access to unimaginable strength.”

“Theoretically?” You huff in part amusement and part disbelief, he wanted you to hand over your heart—metaphorically—based on a theory? “You want my heart based on… what, some story written by a monk gone mad?”

Those same claws still on your chest for a moment, but they don’t remove themselves from how they’re embedded in your chest; poised to rip out your beating heart. He instead drags his eyes back up to meet your own, that smile on his face is nothing short of bad intentions. 

“What, scared? Where’s that samurai warrior spirit of yours? You had no fear when you tried to cut my head off, twice.” He’s still so close that he speaks the words practically into your mouth. You know he’s trying to coax you into giving him what he wants, you know that, but… it was so easy to let your guard slip until you were intoxicated on everything that was Ryomen Sukuna. 

He must see it visibly slip on your face as his smile grows ever-larger, more devious and that hand on your chest splays out wide. The palm of his large hand settles wholly over your heart, even pressing a little harder to feel the rapid thumping of it against his own flesh. 

“Well?” 

“...I agree.” 

He swallows your agreement just as it leaves your lips, his own mouth working against your own whilst his hand presses harder and harder against your chest—until it feels like he’s about to pass his hand right through your body. It burns under his palm, hotter than anything you’ve ever felt before. But you have felt it before, in the hot spring. 

Sukuna brands your skin so effortlessly, binds your body to his own with a simple press of his cursed energy. Yet your body feels no different, you don’t feel the ‘unimaginable strength’ Sukuna had theorised about. You feel nothing but the pass of his tongue into your mouth, the tip of it running over the roof of your mouth until he flicks it against your teeth. 

He pulls back, mercifully, as your breath grows shorter. He stares down at you intensely, his palm still pressed against your chest. You want to know what’s running through his mind when he stares at you like that, a look that’s calculating yet so disarming. 

But instead, there’s a shift of movement and you’re hoisted into the air. Much too high for your liking. Your thighs squeeze around his midsection, and you’re forced to press your hands against his broad shoulders. Sukuna holds you above him, his head tilted back to look at you in a different light – and here you start to understand the look in his eye. Admiration.

“A normal person would’ve died…” He starts, but stops short of finishing his sentence completely. Instead, he draws you impossibly closer to his body, two large hands gripping your thighs whilst the other two hold your waist so delicately.

His words should worry you. His theory was based on the fact that most, if not all, people died at the very notion of binding your heart to another. But instead, you find yourself speechless, staring down at him tips the power scale over. You feel awfully out of place above him like this, his eyes have a different glimmer to them when he’s forced to stare up at you. 

You can’t stop your hands from leaving his shoulders to cup his face, your hands seem tiny on either side of his jaw that flexes at the contact. You drag your thumb along the black tattoos along his jaw, tracing them until you have to repeat the gesture over–and over–...

His lips mirror the softness of your own easily enough, he doesn’t force his tongue into your mouth as he had so many times before. Rather, he simply lets you guide the kiss, gently and smoothly. Your body is forced to hunch down to reach his, and he aids you with a hand splayed across the small of your back to keep you steady. 

One of your hands slips away from his jaw, hooking your arm loosely around his neck to run your fingers up along the nape of his neck, through the shortened hairs there until you can glide your fingers through the longer pink strands of hair. His chest rumbles between your thighs, a deep sound that resembles something so oddly familiar—

The sound grows louder with each pass of your nails against his scalp, up and back down to scratch at the nape of his neck. It’s only then that you realise the rumble is more like a deep vibration, a purr. Your toes curl against the corded muscles of his back at that sound alone, the press of his midsection between your thighs doesn’t help either.

It doesn’t take very long for the kiss to devolve into a slick mess, his insatiable greed for more growing far too large to ignore. He guides your tongue in a sensual dance, one that has your core aching with the memory of what that second tongue had done between your thighs not even a single night ago.

Suddenly, you’re pulled away from the bookcase he had cornered you against. The movement doesn’t break his concentration on your lips, each of his steps are with purpose. His gait doesn’t falter either when he begins to lower himself down onto his knees, those large hands holding you steadfast to ensure his time with your mouth isn’t cut short.

The way he handles you is entirely different to how he had the previous night. Last night was filled with adrenaline-fuelled lust, rough grabbing hands that took and took until there was nothing left to give. But now, he handles you with a delicacy you’d see reserved for loved ones. 

His hands don’t leave your waist when he lays you flat on your back on the softer tatami mat made for sitting and reading on. Instead, he holds you much tighter, like he expects you to wriggle out from beneath him at any second. Though you don’t plan on that any time soon, not when his lips finally break away from your own to press themselves in long passes against your jaw and the hollow of your throat.

The Uchikake slips away from your shoulders, giving him better access to start pulling and tugging in the right places until your kimono unravels entirely from your body. It falls limply at your sides, revealing your bare front to the prying eyes that do a slow sweep up and down your body. The hands at your waist smooth up the expanse of your hips, up along your rib cage until he rests his thumbs just beneath your breasts.

His eyes slip up along the length of your chest, lingering for just a moment on your breasts before he meets your own gaze. That carnal lust for blood has been replaced by nothing but pure desire, it leaks into his eyes until his pupils are dilated and locked onto yours. He looks like a predator who just found his prey. 

The length of his tongue is hot against your nipple, the black of his tattoo such a stark contrast to the pink of his tongue as it contorts to swirl around the hardening nipple before he sucks it into his mouth without shame. All whilst he maintains that heedy eye contact, making sure you watch him thoroughly enjoy your body; the body you’ve just given to him so willingly under the guise of a binding vow.

Thankfully, he isn’t forgetful. A hand comes up along your right side, pressing into your skin to feel each and every bump of your ribs beneath the skin that he could shred so easily. His hand comes up to cup the entirety of your breast in one large palm, fingers stretching and then squeezing tightly as if to get a true grasp of just what he was holding. 

It’s a painful grasp but it soon bleeds into pleasure when he pinches the stiff peak of your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it until you’re forced to breathe out your pleasure. 

The sound that escapes your mouth seems to be what Sukuna was waiting for, his own groan is muffled against the flesh of your breast but it vibrates against your nipple nonetheless. Your hips buck up at the feeling, and in turn, Sukuna presses his own body harder against your own — pinning you beneath him, keeping you still so he could perform his ministrations against your body without interruption. 

He continues to twist the tip of his tongue around your nipple, sucking it further into his mouth until you’re sure it’s going to leave a painful bruise in its wake. But then he switches to the other, giving it the exact same treatment whilst his fingers now play with the abused flesh of the nipple dripping in his spit. 

Sukuna doesn’t linger much longer on your nipples, instead ducking down to latch his teeth into the fleshy part of your underboob and it’s enough to pull a pained hiss from you. You can feel his lips curl into a triumphant grin at the fact he was able to pull a sound from you and not fight the repercussions. 

The path he marks down your body is a tantalising mixture of pain and pleasure, his teeth sink into the fleshier parts of your body – only to be soothed over by the thickness of his tongue. You watch him as he lowers further and further down, his upper set of arms stretched up just slightly so he can continue to pinch at your nipples. 

He holds your eyes with his own, settling just at the apex of your thighs and here you can feel the billowing heavy breaths being pushed from his nose. It makes your toes curl and thighs rub together in an attempt to stave off the pressure between your legs. Sukuna of course doesn’t miss the movement, his tongue flicks out to run over his upper lip. He looked as if he were about to devour a meal.

The spare pair of hands come to your outer thighs, easily pressing his fingers into the flesh to manoeuvre them up and over his shoulders once he settles himself on his stomach between your thighs. It’s an odd sight; to see a man as gigantic as Sukuna on his stomach, between your thighs of all places. 

Part of you expects him to dive straight into it, he spreads your legs so wide on his broad shoulders that you don’t doubt he can see everything on display. That alone has heat burning at the tips of your ears and buzzing in the apple of your cheeks, it’s entirely different from the previous time he had been between your legs. 

It felt different when he used the tongue at his stomach, almost like that was just a way to prepare him for you but this…—it was beyond intimate. A man willing to lay down on his stomach in such a vulnerable position just for the purpose of pleasuring you was mind-numbingly attractive.

Those hands that had been pinching and squeezing at your breasts have meandered their way down to your thighs, easily wrapping themselves around the meat of your thigh to lock you into place whilst the bottom set of hands pry you open. Now that has you squirming, you can feel the wet heat of your desire leaking down to stain the pristine white fabric of your kimono that had been turned into a temporary blanket.

You want to look away from him, to divert your gaze away from the downright filthy look in his own. He doesn’t break away, not once, not when his jaw works for a moment before he spits against your clit. Your thighs tense, your hips jumping up at the contact of the significantly cooler liquid against the molten warmth of your pussy. 

Then. Then, he graces you with the length of his tongue. It presses against you, the tip of it dipping between your spread folds to then drag its way up until it teasingly flicks against your clit. Again, you jolt from the pleasure. It was most definitely different from the tongue in his stomach, that one was much too big – made purely to ensure you were dripping wet before he took you. 

But this tongue… the skilled tongue that had spat threats so easily, and had been the home of smug words and arrogance like no other. It was working you to completion much quicker than ever before. Sukuna must realise it too, noticing the sudden rush of arousal that graces his tongue and lips because he locks his arms tighter around your thighs. And then, he truly devours his meal. 

Long gone are the gentle, slow passes of his tongue. Each pass of his tongue is aggressive in a way that has your toes curling into his back and the heel of your feet dragging along the tattooed flesh there. His lips are unforgiving when they latch themselves to your clit, those teeth that you’d seen rip through flesh graze teasingly against the sensitive nub there until your fingers find a home in his hair.

When you pull, he groans. A low, deep rich sound that has your eyes rolling into the back of your head. He sounds like a wounded animal, like he’s teetering on the edge of his own bliss with each clamping pull of your hand in his hair. He doesn’t give up on the quick passes of his tongue over your clit, nor does he stop drooling against your pussy as if you were the most delicious thing he had ever tasted.

You jerk beneath his ministrations once again, and your fingers tighten on his hair. Holding him in place as you ride the start of your orgasm against his tongue, Sukuna looks like he’s lost in his own world—one that contains only you and him in this very moment. His eyes are half-lidded yet you can see the unbridled lust there, something so humanly wanton that it makes your thighs twitch.

Then it washes over you. You feel a tug in your chest, a pooling of vicious lust in your stomach and with a moan of his name, a breathy “Ryomen!”, you cum on his tongue. He holds you in place thankfully, your hips jumping uncontrollably because his nose continues to press against your clit with each deep press of his tongue into your still throbbing walls.

Sukuna finally pulls himself away from the salvation he found between your thighs, the bottom half of his face and part of his cheeks are drenched. A shiny clear sheen of your very obvious arousal, and he grins. All sharp teeth and dark intentions on display, his eyes glitter with the fact he had you come undone on his face so quickly—so easily. 

He then crawls back up the length of your body, slow movements that pull his muscles perfectly. He’s the very image of an apex predator, and you find yourself slipping far too easily into the role of his unlucky prey. Your legs spread once again for him with the help of his own thighs spreading you wider, he’s fully dressed yet you can feel the heavy press of his twin cocks. 

A hand comes up to your face, a curled index finger stroking along the soft skin beneath your eye and down towards your temple, wiping away the stray tears that had come loose in the height of your orgasm. “You’re beautiful when you cum.” He says it nonchalantly like it’s a fact more than a compliment, yet it still has your heart pumping faster and arousal spiking. 

The kiss he lays against your lips is undoubtedly soft, far too soft for the man you know him as and it’s so fleeting that you’re left wondering if it truly even happened. His mouth instead finds a home against your neck, panting breaths pressed against the scarred flesh there from the previous times he tore you apart, just to piece you together again with his very own hand.

He settles his weight between your legs, forcing your thighs to spread impossibly wider to accommodate him. But instead of resting there for much longer, his hands grab at your waist and thighs. The world shifts around you, a blur of movement and a thump of a body against the floor — all to reveal Sukuna now splayed out beneath you. 

His hands stroke gently up along the bareness of your thighs, and slowly back down to stroke the soft skin at your knees. He still looks impossibly big even beneath you, but it makes your heart seize in your chest. He put you in a place of power, a seat of dominance on his very lap; all with a lazy smile on his face. 

“It’s an equal exchange,” he explains when he sees the thoughts flit behind your eyes. “I take from you, and you take from me.” 

Right. The Binding Vow. The reason why your chest still burns with an idle ache that feels familiar to the one at your wrist. Instead of answering him, you look down at your own body, noting the numerous bite marks embedded into your skin. Your fingers brush along each of them until you halt at the centre of your chest, right between your breasts—

There’s a new tattoo. It’s different to the band around your wrist, instead, it’s two curved lines separated with a smaller tear-drop line in the middle, shaped like a trident. The long lines curve with your breasts, the teardrop resting just over the centre of your heart. 

Your fingers brush over it briefly, there’s an aching sting beneath the fresh ink that blossomed on your skin. It’s tiny compared to the one you’ve seen on Sukuna’s body, on his tongue. You want to know what the symbols mean to him, each of them must hold a different reason for their shape and placement. 

“You suit them,” Sukuna supplies after a moment of watching you trace over the trident-like shape on your chest, and your eyes drift back up to meet his. That lust is still there but it’s softened into a gentler, more welcoming red. 

“I don’t think I’d suit the face tattoos.” You admit, and he arches an eyebrow in amusement at your words.

“No? You dislike them?” His claws playfully drag down along the flesh of your thighs, earning him a full-body shiver which inevitably causes his cocks to twitch from where they’re trapped against your still wet-heat between your thighs. 

Your laugh causes his own lips to turn into a smooth smile, his eyes tracking the movement when you shake your head. “Always putting words in my mouth,” you lean forward, planting your hands on his chest and inwardly mourning the fact he was still wearing his own kimono. “I just think you look much better with them. Fearsome.”

His eyebrow remains raised in feigned disbelief, perhaps even faked hurt. “Just fearsome? I bathe you in compliments, and in return I get fearsome?”

You lean ever closer, brushing your nose playfully against his and he returns the motion but a little more harsher. It’s an odd air that’s settled over the both of you, maybe it was the binding vow still setting in. You had handed him your very heart, and you were still due to take his. It’s not an unenjoyable air however, if anything, it’s the happiest you’ve felt in a very long time.

“Handsome. Ruthless. Regal.” Each word is breathed between kisses along the thick line of the tattoo along his jaw until you’re nestled next to his ear. “Does that satisfy you, or do you want me to stroke your ego some more?”

A buck of his hips has your newfound confidence wavering, a tumbling moan falling from your lips and gracing his ear. His hands grasp tightly at your hips whilst a large palm smoothes over the expanse of your ass, grabbing and squeezing — only to smack you with enough force to spring tears to your eyes. 

“Careful.” He blows the word against your own ear, nuzzling the tip of his nose against your earlobe before laying a kiss just beneath. 

As if remembering just the hold you have over him at the moment, you lean out of the biting range of that wandering mouth. He nearly snarls at the fact you pull away, until you start to tug at the obi belt of his kimono. Undoing all the layering until his chest is laid bare for you. You trace your own finger along the expanse of the lines that mar his chest there, down the chunk-like squares until your hand presses over his own heart.

Sukuna at least lifts his hips to help you push down his Hakama and free him completely from the confines of the materials you had dressed him only a short while ago. He relaxes further with the skin-to-skin contact, yet those cocks between your thighs twitch impatiently; drooling against his defined muscles. 

He holds your gaze when you plant a hand on his stomach, lifting your own hips to guide a hand between them and take hold of one of the thick cocks waiting for attention. You leave the upper one untouched, and he grunts at the realisation you won’t be taking both—not yet, anyway. 

The tip of his cock grazes against your still-sensitive clit, and glides through the sticky mess between your lips. You’d only grown more and more wet for him as you found yourself atop of him, and you don’t doubt that you could take him… with a bit of a struggle.

Sukuna schools his features well but you don’t miss the swell of his chest when he sucks in a breath, your entrance swallows the tip of his cock greedily and that alone has a stinging burn pinching at your walls. But you preserve, you push through inch by inch until you’re seated on his thighs with his heavy balls resting at the curve of your ass.

You clench involuntarily, and finally, the mask slips away from Sukuna’s face. He groans, without shame, kiss-bruised lips parting to relieve him of the pleasure he was trying to keep to himself. His hands are clamped to your hips, holding you in place just to give him a second to breathe — to recalibrate his brain and try to focus on anything but just how tight and warm your pussy was.

“Even after nearly stuffing you with two cocks, you’re still so fucking tight.” He hisses, sharp fangs on display when he grits his teeth to give a tentative roll of his hips up into you. 

Your thighs tense, walls throbbing around his length and the pretty moan pulled from your lips is complimented by his own rumbling groan. On instinct your own hips grind back, your clit catching against the underside of his unattended cock and those long black claws finally sink into your flesh. 

It feels too good. Far too good, and you’ve not even moved yet—not properly. You want to ride him, to sit atop of him and watch him unravel whilst nestled beneath you. But it’s becoming increasingly hard to think when you feel the tip of his cock that’s buried deep inside of you twitch against that one spongy spot deep inside of you. 

So you distract yourself, momentarily. Your hand slides away from his stomach and wraps around the weeping cock against his pelvis, Sukuna jerks at the motion as if he hadn’t expected you to take care of both. Your fingers don’t reach around the girth of him, but you squeeze nevertheless.

His cock is dripping with your arousal from when you had been seated atop of him, you had been turned on for him so much so that it had leaked through his pants. Your hand glides easily up and down, twisting gently at the tip of his cock to roll your thumb over the slit there before spreading the mixture of your slick and his pre-cum down along his length.

Sukuna all but groans prettily at the way you handle him, head thunking back against the floor when he finally, finally, relinquishes control to you. You give another grind of your hips and the pinching burn there has started to bleed away into undeniable pleasure, so you shift a little atop of him.

As if realising what you were about to do, Sukuna places his hands just beneath your thighs. Not to control you, but to simply guide you, support you, if you needed it. The first bounce is awfully loud and sticky, your pussy greedily sucking his cock back in when you drop down to his hips. 

Your hand slackens a little around the cock still leaking near his belly button, so a large hand engulfs your own and starts to move your hand up and down a little more aggressively — so not totally out of control, but you can’t complain when he nudges his hips slightly to meet your bounces. 

His cock presses beautifully against that spot deep inside of you repeatedly, each bounce and drop in gravity hammering the mushroomed head of his cock against it until your stomach coils painfully. Your impending orgasm makes itself suddenly known, and this one feels much more intense than the others. A pressure in your lower stomach that has your jaw slackening to moan without any shame.

Sukuna watches you through thick lashes, biting down on his lip to stop himself from growling or moaning, perhaps even both. Those hands beneath your thighs have started to slowly shift up until they rest at your hips, and a hand smooths itself over your lower back. And it’s a very subtle warning for what's to come.

A man like Sukuna is undoubtedly strong, made of muscles that were purely for ripping and shredding through people with ease. So it’s hardly a surprise when he bucks up into your hard, enough to plant his feet squarely on the floor before he fucks into you like he’d never get a chance to fuck you again. 

You can only squish your chest to his own to save yourself from slamming into him, and his hand on the lower portion of your back holds you there. Pins you to him in a vulnerable position whilst his hips work to thrust his cock hard and deep into your velvety core. 

A surprised moan mixed with a yelp is torn from your throat when a hand smooths itself down over your ass before pressing rather unceremoniously into the tight ring of muscle there, it’s not an unwelcome feeling but it still has you panting open-mouthed against the thick muscle of his chest. 

The orgasm that was building erupts far too quickly, and all you can do is gasp against his chest with a breathless “‘M gonna— gonna cum, please, please—” You don’t specify what you’re begging for, but Sukuna knows exactly what you’re pleading for. 

So he doesn’t let up on the fast and aggressive pace of his hips, snarling into your ear when you clench repeatedly around the length of his cock. The juices that drip from your abused pussy soak him entirely, ruining the material that had gathered beneath the both of you and it only aids in making the slapping noise of his balls against your ass even louder.

His hips only begin to slow once he’s rung out your orgasm until you’re oversensitive, flinching with each pass of his cock against your swollen walls. He lets you settle atop of him, his cock still buried deep inside of you and throbbing with the need to release but he holds himself back, and staves off his own climax.

You nearly purr when a hand finds itself in your hair, long claws scratching delicately at the sweaty scalp there until you’re ready to continue. The twitch of his cock pressed between his stomach and your own has your toes curling, and that small coil in your stomach twists with delight at the fact you’re still not finished. 

That hand drifts away from your hair once you reposition yourself atop of him, your hands dragging along the smooth expanse of his chest to settle at his stomach. His body gleams with a sheen coat of sweat, and his lungs expand harshly with each breath he sucks in. It seems fucking you through an explosive orgasm so aggressively took it out of him.

“You’re beautiful,” you find the words slip from your lips so easily, and Sukuna can’t stop the surprise crossing his features. Beautiful, no doubt a word that has never been used to describe him. But you mean it. He looks awfully angelic like this, in a twisted way when a quiet voice whispers in the back of your mind about the atrocities he’s committed. 

Yet it’s very easy to ignore that voice, to push it down and silence it. His hair is slicked back with sweat, yet tendrils of it curl around his ears and at the nape of his neck – sticking to the sweat there that continues to roll down his skin in droplets. His eyes are somewhat satiated as if seeing you reach bliss twice was enough for him for the day. His lips are set in a soft line, relaxed.

Truly beautiful.

He parts his lips to speak, maybe even to retort your compliment but you silence the words on his tongue by lifting up from his lap. His cock slips free from your swollen pussy, and it’s enough to make the both of you hiss in tandem. 

“Done already?” He questions, a tint of his voice sounding almost disappointed at being left high and dry. Though, you don’t say a thing when you shift your body up onto your knees so you’re hovering over not just the one cock, but the both of them. 

As if realising what you were planning, Sukuna wraps a hand around the girth of both of his cocks to help you when you start to lower yourself on both of the tips. Even after the mind-blowing orgasm, it’s still a very tight squeeze. Your face scrunches with the blossoming pain, and you know you should slow down. But that incessant tugging in your heart has your body overpowering your brain, and you lower yourself down… and down.

You only let out a heavy breath when you feel his thighs brush against the inner part of your own, and Sukuna grips your hips much more harshly compared to before. The whooshing of blood in your head is much too loud, and it only makes you feel like your head is submerged beneath water.

“Look at me.” A command, and you obey it wordlessly. You meet Sukuna’s gaze, and he’s staring at you with more care than you’ve ever witnessed. Your heart squeezes again in your chest, and you’re only now realising that it feels like a hand is wrapped around your very heart. 

Your own fingers glide along the sweaty expanse of his chest, pressing into the muscle there until you locate the exact position of his heart in his chest. It beats so heavily beneath his skin, thumping against your palm as if it yearns to break free and be held by your gentle hold. 

“How do I do it?” You ask in a breathless whisper, you hadn’t made a mutual contract like this before. You simply agreed to lend him your strength when he asked for it, but this time he had offered his own heart to you in exchange. 

“Just take it, it’s yours.” He lays his head back against the floor, eyes staring down the bridge of his nose to stare at you. He offers no further guidance, nothing to help you with figuring out how to take a man's heart—figuratively. 

He made it seem so simple, as easy as laying his hand against your own chest and wrapping his cursed energy around your heart until it beat for him, and only him. So you follow in his footsteps, your own nails dig into the muscle of his pectoral muscles and he at least notes the discomfort of you digging harshly enough to draw blood. 

You feel the tug in your own chest, his cursed energy squirms in your very body until it seizes around your heart and holds it still. Then you force your mind to focus on your own cursed energy, you let it wrap around his own that nestles itself tighter around your heart until the two become one. 

It snakes down your veins, from your fingertips and inevitably into his chest. It burns your palm when you press harder, ensuring that the vow is made successfully. Sukuna’s upper lip twitches in discomfort, yet he does not stop you from completing it. 

Your hips twitch involuntarily when you feel the familiar embrace of that dark energy that he exudes, it welcomes you so easily. It wraps its cold arms around you and digs into your flesh, pulling you further and further in until you can sense nothing but the man beneath you. 

“Take it.” Sukuna hisses through gritted teeth, and you do. You clamp down on his heart, your cursed energy snaps violently into place and Sukuna jerks at the sudden burst of it in his chest. His hands grip your hips harshly, tearing into the flesh without a care in the world and you yourself can’t find it within you to care about the blood that spills from your hips. 

Instead, you gasp in his hold, overcome with such an intense feeling of undeniable power. Strength beyond comprehension. Its dark tendrils slither beneath your skin, nestling themselves around your bones until they become a part of you. It doesn’t stop until you accept it, fully.

Something snaps into place and you blink back into reality to find Sukuna staring at you with a wide-eyed expression, something that makes him look so much younger than he really is. You feel his heartbeat beneath the palm of your hand, and it matches the pounding in your ears. 

He moves you effortlessly until you’re beneath him, not once breaking his eyes away from you — staring at you as if he’s never quite seen you before. The power that bleeds from him is familiar, it’s welcoming, it’s your own. 

The binding vow was complete.

He crowds you into the floor, two large arms caging either side of your head when he hunches down over you. The other arms work to lift your hips up to meet his own, wrapping your legs higher up around his waist before he starts to thrust into you, slowly… as if testing the waters.

The moan that’s punched out of you sounds wounded, not because you were sore from being stretched around two cocks but because your pleasure seems heightened beyond belief. You can feel everything and then some. 

One of those hands holding up his weight moves, cupping the side of your face. It always amazed you just how well he manoeuvred himself despite how large of a man he was, he wasn’t as nimble as some but he most definitely moved with a certain type of grace that was undoubtedly him. 

His thumb swoops down, pressing just beneath your jaw and tilts your head up slightly to meet his own. The kiss he devours you with is nothing short of consuming, he isn’t gentle with how he keeps his lips pressed tightly to yours when his hips roll once–twice, and then he’s fucking you at a rhythm that has your toes curling sharply.

The coil that had lain dormant in your stomach suddenly sparks back to life, it curls tight in your lower stomach until your thighs seize up and you’re left to clamp around the two sizable cocks shoved deep inside of you. Sukuna groans at that, a shuddering sound that’s expelled against your lips before he returns to your mouth.

His tongue pries you open easily enough, and his tongue is unyielding as he laps at you. Two hands flex at your thighs, long fingers digging into the flesh behind your knees to effortlessly fold you further into the mating press—you can’t help but gasp into his lips, pushing out the last of your breath into his panting mouth. 

“Mine,” Sukuna snarls like some feral beast, sharp canines glinting in the shimmering flame from the lanterns dotted around the room. It’s so primal, the way he takes you, the way he folds you nearly in half just to fuck himself deeper into you; to ensure you feel every last inch of him. “Say it.”

He gives a particularly hard thrust with the last word, gritting his teeth at just how tightly you clamp down around him. The hand at your jaw slips down, taking hold of your throat so easily and pinning you to the floor beneath him. He pulls back just slightly, enough so that you can see his face entirely — can see just how much you affect him. 

Your answer doesn’t come quick enough, however, as he rolls his hip back smoothly only to fuck into you with much more vigour. The rhythmic wet slapping sound contests against your choked moans, you can feel each time his balls slap against your ass; how heavy they are.

“‘M yours—” You manage to choke past the squeezing of his hand at your throat, the wild glint in his eye is dangerous. A look that you’ve seen before, right before he struck with the goal to kill. “Yours! Yours—fuck!” 

Sukuna chuckles breathlessly, sounding no better than yourself. He looks absolutely ruined, sweat dripping along the side of his face, at the back of his neck and along his chest. He looks positively divine, something you want to sink your teeth into. That realisation has you clamping down suddenly, pulling a shameless moan from the man above you. 

You’re so close, so fucking close that you can taste it on your tongue. Sukuna can feel it too, his gaze locking with your own before he shifts just slightly onto his knees. And then when he’s truly above you, does he start fucking into you at a much deeper angle. The tip of his cock drags heavily along your g-spot whilst simultaneously ramming itself against your cervix—it’s painful. 

But a type of pain that has your toes curling mercilessly, your hand grasps uselessly at the arm closest to you, the one holding you beneath him. You slip your spare hand down along your body, taking advantage of the small gap he’s granted you by wanting to watch you come undone entirely. 

Your fingers slip through the mess of curls below, you’re absolutely drenched—beyond wet, a type of wetness that only Sukuna is evidently able to pull from you. You find your clit, swollen and so sensitive that you flinch at the brief contact from your fingers. 

Sukuna seems to notice too, his lower set of eyes drifting down to see the way you touch yourself whilst he fucks you with both his cocks. His mouth opens in a wordless groan. You can feel the slickness gathering there when you brush your fingers down along your pussy, to brush your fingers against the sides of his cocks as he continues to fuck you. 

It grows increasingly difficult to smoothly roll your fingers over your clit, the stickiness causing your fingers to slip too quickly—sometimes moving away from your clit entirely when Sukuna gives a particularly rough thrust of his hips. He’s fucking you like he needs you to cum, like if you don’t then surely his heart might give out.

Meeting Sukuna’s gaze again, you can’t stop the way you clench around him and in return, Sukuna bares his teeth at you. It’s non-threatening, not quite as lethal as the previous times he did it in the past. Instead, it sends heat shooting down your spine, flaring up in your stomach and it’s impossible to stop the orgasm the second you register it happening. 

You moan, head flung back against the tatami mat with a dull thud and your entire body tenses up. The growl that comes from Sukuna is guttural, a deep sound that you can feel vibrate through your very own body from just how loud it is. 

His fingers tighten around your throat, and with a gasping breath, you call for him. “Ryomen,” you flinch at the sensitivity of your clit when he throws his hips harsher against your own. “Ryomen, please, please—” 

You may not know what you’re begging for exactly, but Sukuna seems to pick up on it flawlessly. His body surges forward, the width of his shoulders hiding you completely beneath him before his lips clash with your own. It’s not much of a kiss with the both of you panting in the other's mouth, and then he snarls—

“You are mine.” 

His hips stutter for just a moment before you feel him thicken impossibly further deep inside of you, both of his cocks throbbing and twitching—it sends a painful twinge up your spine before the relief comes. Both of his cocks twitch simultaneously, the pulse releasing a wave of seed deep inside of you. It’s warm, almost unbearably so, yet you relish in the feeling of it. 

You feel complete. A contentedness settles deep in your chest and wraps around you in a comforting arm, and all you can do is moan sweetly into Sukuna’s awaiting mouth as he shudders through his orgasm. His hips continue to pump against you, forcing his cum as deep as possible inside of you—claiming you in the most primal way. 

The world swirls around you, looming bookcases seeming to grow taller as the lethargy starts to kick in. Sukuna lowers his body slowly down atop you, still refusing to pull out from you but you can already feel the stickiness of his release trickling from around where the two of you joined and ruining the slips of silk beneath you. 

The hand at your throat moved at some point, instead coming up to smooth through your hair, peeling it away from your sweaty skin before brushing it further back. It has you leaning into the touch, and you’re sure if you could purr, you would at the tenderness Sukuna is handling you with. 

His nose smooths up along your cheek, his breaths coming in deep and heavy before he finds the shell of your ear. “You are mine, as I am yours. Your strength will know no bounds, for as long as you stay at my side.” 

A tingling sensation burns at your chest, an itch that you can’t quite reach once his words settle against your ear. Perhaps it’s the exhaustion starting to take its toll on your brain, but his words almost sound like he was completing the binding vow with an additional rule…

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[mynahx3]

One Moment Was All It Took Part 3

Inspired by Yandere! Soulmate! Satoru HC @envy-of-the-apple This is kind of a flashback/ Satoru POV. Gives a little insight into his state of mind. Will drop another part tonight or tomorrow! Hope you enjoy! Warning!! MDNI!!! Contains sexual thoughts/ delusions, masturbation, and kidnapping. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!! Masterlist

Over the last few days, Satoru has been researching the phenomenon of sorcerers and their soulmates.

For the first time in years, since high school, he used his clan's library. There, he found out that each sorcerer has their own soulmate, but it is rare for them to ever find each other. They were the only ones alive who would be immune to their technique, even remaining unaffected by their domain. He was told these things as a child and thought of them as tall tales, but now he couldn't ignore the evidence in front of him. Satoru's curiosity was piqued, and he was determined to find out more about his soulmate.

Propping his head onto his palm, he read through the writings he had at his desk in his room with a pout on his lips. The sun had just begun to set, casting his room in a warm glow. Boredom had long crept in; he had been in the same spot for hours with the smelly, ancient books, their brittle pages a pale yellow.

He looked over at his laptop to see a live feed of your apartment. Without his six eyes, he had to resort to more traditional ways of keeping track of someone. From the looks of things you had just returned from work, cooking dinner for yourself while you danced to some music playing. He smiled softly at the sight. As he watched you move around the kitchen a bit clumsily, he felt a sense of admiration and curiosity growing within him.

While you were pretty, you weren't his usual type. Nonetheless, he was drawn to you because you were carefree and genuine, enjoying the simple pleasures of life. You weren't one to sugarcoat things or get caught up in drama. It was refreshing to see someone so grounded and content in their own skin. He was eager to learn more about you and discover what made you tick, what passions drove you, and what dreams you held close to your heart.

Satoru had no trouble getting all the information on you without his six eyes. The man had plenty of money and connections to make up for it, and he knew exactly how to use it to his advantage. It was easy to pay off your landlord to give him a copy of your key, and it was even easier to plant the hidden cameras all throughout your place. 

The book was long forgotten on his desk; his attention was focused on you. Hours could have gone by, maybe just minutes, but he didn't move an inch. Now you have moved to your master bathroom, unwinding from the day. You began to shed your work clothes, dropping them to the floor in front of your sink. He took in every detail of your body as he watched you shower greedily. The clear water is running down your body to every lump and crevice. Soap slowly foamed down your breasts and supple ass perfectly; he felt his cock harden at the sight in his slacks.

Groaning, Satoru pulled his shirt up and slowly unzipped his pants. With his shirt in his mouth, he let his erection free from the confines of his pants, making it slap his stomach a little. It was long and pale with veins throughout it; the tip was red and glistening with desire. Now he was grateful for buying high end cameras, the quality showing every drop of water cascading down your skin in crystal clear detail. 

As he began to touch himself, he knew this footage would be worth every penny. Precum dripped from the tip of his cock, lubricating it more, which made his hand glide across it easier. He tightened his hand, moving faster as he watched. Biting on his bottom lip, he let out a few moans, his cock twitching in his hand.

On his laptop, he saw as your hand traveled across your body—a hand began to play with your breast, the other feeling between your legs. From the looks of things, you were also feeling some urges, with small moans escaping your mouth. Closing his eyes, his hips bucked up into his hand, wishing he was inside you, not in his hand.

The sight of you pleasuring yourself only fueled his own desire, his breathing becoming more erratic as he imagined being with you in that moment. He imagined touching you himself, with his long fingers touching parts of you that your own couldn't reach. Your small hands would rub his length fervently, and your fingertips would barely not be able to touch from his girth alone.

Moans would escape your lips for him, and you would plead with him to fill you up and let you cum all over his cock. The thought of exploring your body together made his heart race with anticipation, aching to feel the warmth of your skin against his. Listening, he synced his strokes to your movements, a tight, coiling sensation building in his stomach as he watched you.

The thought of being together in person intensified his arousal, making him ache for the real thing. More pre dripped from his cock, his breath quickening as he imagined the sensation of being inside you, feeling your tightness around him. The feeling of your slick covering him, soaking his skin from your finishing. He wondered how you would taste, imagining the sweet and salty combination of your essence on his tongue.

With a final shudder, he released himself, his cock falling limp against him. Even after that, his body is still craving the intimacy he longed for with you. He panted in his chair, his abs painted white in his release. Cheeks flushed red from how intense he came, his hair sticking to his forehead from his sweat. As he caught his breath, he couldn't help but smile at the thought of finally making his fantasy a reality with you. Looking over at the screen, he saw you had gotten out of the shower and were just finishing getting dressed now.

You wore a simple black oversized shirt, and your hair was still damp from the shower. Rubbing lotion on your smooth legs, he couldn't wait to be wrapped around him. His eyes scanned over your form, and his mind was imagining all the ways he would explore your body. To his dismay, your fiance came back, and the two of you were in a loving embrace. Your lips are locking together as an icy rage fills his heart with jealousy.

Quickly, he turned away from the screen, busying himself with cleaning up his mess. Seeing the two of you soured his mood greatly. He tried not to be mad; you didn’t know you were supposed to be his, and he was yours.

He knew he had to figure out what to do with your fiance; he needed to be out of the picture.

Nearly three weeks have gone by since Satoru met you—three weeks that he kept constant watch on you and prepared his home. To keep himself from acting too quickly, he often went into your apartment when you were gone. Knowing you wouldn't be back for a while, he took his time looking through your belongings, making sure to take home a few of your trinkets.

He was sad to see that you had thrown away the gifts he had gotten you, but no matter. He'd be sure to spoil you once you were fully his. Everything was falling into place. Your room was ready; he made sure to stock it with clothes in your size and excitedly grabbed ropes and chains to use. A specially padded cuff was made per his request, sturdy but comfortable to an extent. And your fiance was dispatched on a perfectly timed business trip; Satoru didn't even have to intervene, as he had originally anticipated. He was counting down the days and had almost acted on his impulses. He happened to see you at the park, looking so beautiful and unsuspecting that he had to fight himself from taking you then and there.

It was finally ready, and he was beyond happy.

Holding you in his arms, Satoru was smiling like a fool. He was in his own little world with just you and him in the car; he ignored the driver, who didn't blink at the sight of you, who was taking the two of you home. You lay in his arms, your breathing relaxed, and your face serene. The man was still bleeding from his wounds, but he could care less. Having you in this moment proved everything to be worth it. He took in every detail of your face, as if you were about to vanish into the world of molecules and blobs of energy in which he grew up. 

Tentatively, a finger traced your cheek carefully and trailed down to your lips. He couldn't get enough of your smooth skin, the way your eyelashes fluttered against your cheeks, or the warmth of your body against his.

As he held you closer, his face nuzzling your neck, he whispered softly, "You have no idea what you do to me."

His eyes looked over your form, intent on never letting something so dear to his heart go. 

He would never make that mistake again. 

[rottiens]

What are some random headcanons that come to your mind about Stalker Geto and Priest Toji? Both nsfw and sfw are welcome 😌

LURK | GETŌ SUGURU

✮ tags. . fem reader, stalker!getō, canon au, 18+ mdni ꒱₊˚⊹ divider credits. ��� playlist.

✮ wc. . 1.1k

✮ notes. i had to physically restrain myself from making this a whole fic, lord have mercy. what have you done to me? i'd like to explore this au more in the future and i'll be talking about toji in another post but give me time bc i need to recover from this.

the thing is, he justifies everything he does. he knows exactly the order of your coffee, and he sneaks into your apartment at night for the same reason: your good. he's just looking out for you, let him take care of you.

Satoru manages to get his friend to finally admit it.

"It's not being in love," he says. "I just admire her. she's strong." that's all, he assures him.

Despite Satoru trying, and provoking him with the situation, laughing in his face and joking about it, Satoru fails to make Suguru break down and admit it. Suguru inwardly recognizes that it's nothing more than a fleeting admiration that will pass soon, he's nothing more than infatuated with you and the way you deal with problems, kill curses, talk to people. He likes that about you, he doesn't like you, there is an abysmal step between one and the other— He tries to reason with himself.

However, he can't help but slide his eyes over you as if it's a must every time you enter the room, he doesn't know and hasn't asked Satoru if he feels it too but there is a magnetism to which he is attracted when you enter the room. He stops talking suddenly, clenches his jaw and Satoru notices the muscles tense —of course he does it with those all-seeing eyes—, before he can turn around in search of what his friend is admiring, Suguru speaks again, pushing the oval glasses on the tip of his nose up with his middle finger to cover his eyes completely and watch you in peace.

Oh, you're cute. He has to bite his lip and fake a laugh at something obviously not funny so his friend won't notice. He slyly looks you up and down, your hair is tousled, he imagines you running out of your house, leaving your phone behind and having to come back to get it because you're always early, that's why he's here.

But it's 10:48AM, he checks his wristwatch before returning to Satoru. You're forty minutes late and the thought makes him frown. Before he can stop the train of thought he's thinking about you, and the scenarios that could have happened to keep you from being early. You are always on time. He knows that.

You catch him looking, not really. You don't know because you can't see his gaze, but Suguru knows you're watching him out of the corner of your eye and with the sunglasses in between serving as a shield, he lets himself immerse in you without being overwhelmed by the fear that he'll be caught. You glance sideways at him again and soon flee to the table before you weighing up the idea of whether you should have tea or coffee.

You go for coffee, of course. With three sugar cubes, a pinch of cinnamon powder and a spoonful of honey. He's realized for a while now that he's good at those things, at remembering things you do, at remembering your coming and going patterns, how you take your coffee, the wrinkles your nose makes when you laugh, how uncomfortable you feel in your uniform sometimes, how dirty your shoes almost always are.

He sees you pick up honey and a spoon and it makes him smile. Next to him, Satoru laughs.

"Man. You really like her."

At some point Satoru moved to his side to look at you from the same point of view as Suguru. You turn to catch both teachers staring at you, suguru purses his lips into an awkward smile and raises his hand to wave at you. Satoru on the other hand, yells at you as if you’re not a few feet away from them and calls out euphorically with his hand for you to come closer. Suguru knows he is going to try to do something to leave you two alone talking and only this time Suguru allows it.

With coffee in hand you approach them both. His heart is about to burst out of his rib cage, his muscles tense as if ropes were squeezing them, he licks his upper lip looking to moisten his mouth and when you are in front of him he inhales slyly, you smell as if you have just stepped out of the shower, fresh, sweet, maybe that is the reason for your disheveled hair, maybe that is the reason for your tardiness.

And well, maybe he did have a crush, he could admit that to himself at least. A crush that would die soon, because Suguru wasn't one to date the same person for too long, people made him lose interest fast and he knows it would be the same with you.

That was two weeks ago. It's just a crush, he keeps repeating himself.

You're just his co-worker, another teacher, he tells himself. He's doing this for your sake.

He was supposed to check your apartment, exorcise a curse he saw slipping through a window as he walked past your place early in the morning, it's all a funny coincidence that he was in the right place, at the right time really and he decides to sneak out because he wants to look after you, that's all. He was going to come in and out and not touch anything, the sound of rain coming from the bathroom tells him that you'll be early for Jujutsu High today and he should get out of there soon. It's just that he didn't plan to find the red thong laid out as an offering for him on the bed, next to your pillow.

Suguru bites his cheek hard, his teeth that make him bleed control him just a little, the pain brings him lucidity but not enough to stop him when he takes two long strides to the bed. As if in a stupor he stands rigid on the edge of the bed contemplating the fabric that glistens with a wet trace in the center.

Suguru stretches out his fingers as instructed and takes it in his hand. Trembling he brings it to his nose and inhales shamelessly, his breathing heard in the four silent walls. His chest aches, his heart pounding. It smells like you, and he rubs the tip of his nose on it, closes his eyes, his long eyelashes flutter and all the blood rushes to his cock, he's so hard he can't think.

He flutters his eyes open returning to the warmth of your apartment, to the dull noise caused by a silent house, he hears footsteps upstairs from the neighbors or maybe it's yours because he no longer hears the water falling and without wasting time he puts the thong in the pockets of his uniform pants. There is another place where he should be now.

He was supposed to be in the teacher's room first when you arrived, he was going to see you earlier today and that's what matters most to him right now.

[darlingpwease]

I wonder if Can you write Yandere Omega Seth (from Ennead) if you okay with it

I'll find you

hide as much as you can // I'll find you

♡ fictional mythology, unhealthy behaviour, lovehate dynamic (love -> lovehate), animalistic behaviour, pet names, power exchange, mention of bloodletting (seth), hints of incestuous relationships?; beta!reader -> alpha!reader, heqet/khnum!reader implied

♡ rough treatment, mild blood kink, mild scent kink, heavy petting, dubious consent -> consensual, unprotected sex / breeding, bondage by sand, power imbalance -> power exchange; word 'womb' used once for Seth

𓂀 Contacting this omega is not the best solution — you realized when you first met him, while coming out of the Nile, the keeper of the floods of which you were.

Of course, it's not that you were obliged to communicate with any of them or even be interested in your distant relatives, who were no more than the seventh water on the jelly, but you needed to come out of the depths of the Nile at least from time to time — and when you finally come out, for the first time you meet an unusually red shade, burning like a torch against the background of burning golden sand and the sky blue as the waters of the Nile.

He was like a creature that was born from the spilled blood of all the fallen warriors who did not find their way home, but took refuge in your waters, sprinkling your waters over and over again until the river turns red like the sunset.

His name was 'SETH', he was the god of war and the desert, his parents were Geb and Nut — and when your gaze first crossed, it was as if you were hit on the head with something; almost a low cry of 'YOU WERE NOTICED' so loud that if you were human, you would turn away and run away, — under the sand, under the ground, under the water, no matter where, — but you are not a human and, even if you were weaker than him, you would not run away.

After all, who is the 'God of War and the Desert' against the Deity who keeps the Nile?

“Don't you dare look at me like that anymore.”

wolf cub.

You can guess that his behavior is probably an attempt to attract, as a fertile young omega provokes a fertile young alpha to get angry and chase after him, showing everything they can, just to prove that they are good enough to fill the womb. You know all this. After all, you were the one who created the figures of people who were illuminated by Ra, and you were more than able to watch these playtimes when the lovers went too far in their games and fell together into the coastal waters after a long chase.

And you more than know the brilliance of those eyes — and react faster than realize, like water, which acts intuitively, not relying on reason, to survive. They say that betas have a stronger intuition with understanding of the world — it's not for nothing that you are one of those gods who prefer maximum detachment, 'spirituality', achieved through refusing to accept the role of omega or alpha.

And you let your instincts dictate.

Before his cheeky mouth has time to say anything, you just have to make a wave so that the waters of the Nile aim at him like a beast that has found prey — and break against a strong, slender figure, without causing severe pain, but forcing him to take steps back, no longer bursting into your space.

SETH'S hair, dripping and darkened from the water, sticks to body — but before he has time to resist you in any way, calling to himself the sands of the desert, submissive to him like a tamed pet, you dissolve into the water, returning to your native current...

“I'll find you!”

... The waters of the Nile easily take you into themselves as a natural part, hiding you from the outside world, dissolving like everything that falls into the water abyss and stays here; it's not for nothing that people say that it was water that gave birth to life, and that water is necessary for life.

And although you are not a water Deity, you are also worth something.

𓂀 You know that this is not Ra — although the method of summoning is the same, Ra would rather strangle herself than summon you, especially so soon after the last arrival. Even if you had a... good relationship, — you both contributed to the appearance of 'humans' — it was obvious that you were still different.

Your clay figurines needed a bright fire to come to life, just as she craved worship and followers — it was an interchange where mortals became what brought you closer and pushed you away from each other.

However, SETH was looking for you for other reasons, quite different from 'worshippers'.

Although you are used to being summoned in other ways, such as sacrifices and festivals, you must admit that you clearly underestimated the son of Nut and Geb, who were no better than any of them — but at least they were smart enough not to try to find out from Ra a way to summon you without having to wait at Nila.

Because more than herself and power, Ra loved only to have fun — and sometimes you wondered if she was looking for power just to have fun.

“... Heh.”

When he looks down at you, like a child who has found a gift hidden from him, his scarlet lips stretch in a cheeky smile.

If most gods and goddesses somehow have more alpha and omega traits, then SETH looks like there are too many of these traits in him, like an omega-like alpha or alpha-like omega than beta.

“It turns out that this is the only way you can be summoned? I thought to the last that she was lying...”

The scarlet spot spreads across the water surface of the unusually calm Nile, dissolving in the streams of water that carry the particles with them, absorbing a new part of itself into its course. If people knew how much Nile water contains particles of their children, parents, friends, spouses, enemies, detractors, traitors — would they drink it?

If they knew that the same water absorbs the blood of the gods they worship, what would they look like, scooping up water like the purest gold — the same as he controls, the God of the Desert, smelling of sand dust, dry grass and heat?

“I don't care. You're here, so it was worth it.”

You don't think that the blood of God should be used for such things, like simply calling you from the river bottom, but don't say anything, giving someone to continue — and SETH continues without hearing an answer.

And although he, in fact, created a trap for you, filling the entire stone floor with his sand to make sure that you don't run away anywhere, you feel more like in the paws of a small puppy than in the cave of a mature wolf.

Wasn't it really an exaggeration to be afraid of him?

... Apparently, you have been under water for so long, absorbing the blood of warriors and animals, that you have become too sensitive to any danger...

“I promised you I'd find you.”

𓂀 SETH smells of freedom — not the freedom that has no limits or restrictions, only dead bodies that float along the Nile can have such freedom, but the freedom that is like the hot breath of the desert during the day and the icy whisper of the desert at night; it smells of heat, dry grass, the blood of soldiers and treasures captured with the help of weapons.

You pretend that you don't notice when treasures fall to the bottom of the Nile, and that, moreover, don't understand who gives you them; but it's hard for you to deny that you don't like the look of them. After all, the Nile is not just a 'river' or 'your home', but your temple and refuge, and the sight of expensive and precious things sheltering the once bare, dreary bottom undoubtedly improves the view and your mood; especially when the current of the river carries you further, and gold, like a lighthouse, shines; sprinkling the dark bottom is like the moon shining on the darkest desert night.

SETH is hot and fervent, like burning blood flowing out of him until you hand an object that can immediately contact you, instead of flooding waters, as if out of spite spending more than really needed, as if the more blood, the faster you will rise to the surface.

(in a sense, it is, but for other reasons...)

You can understand that this relationship is frowned upon, at least by his brother, but there's not much you can do — the waters of the Nile are all-encompassing and almost omnipresent, and the way SETH regularly calls you is almost charming if it wasn't so intense, as if every time he struggles with himself in the desire to devour you or to drag away, but at the same time I have to give up this need, which is close to the human need to drink water. You don't need to ask him about it to know — the way he looks at you, as if wanting to sink his teeth into your skin and take you to his cave, is more than eloquent, and even the way his smell intensifies, silently shouting that he is a strong, healthy and fertile omega, in itself is an obvious sign.

And the fact that you are just as quiet and calm, like serene dark waters, untouched by gusts of sandy wind, only further inflames his burning passion and desire, which he himself cannot describe in any way except as 'mine'.

Mine.

Mine mine mine — you give life, carry life, no matter in a running stream or standing water, watching as the surface is filled with bodies and blood, dirt and tears, bodies entwined in passion and love embraces. It doesn't matter — everything will be dissolved in your current and carried away until it becomes no more than another drop in billions of the same, carrying information that only you know.

SETH, on the other hand, carries with him the smell of something wild, giving life, — but also ruthlessly taking it for himself, strewing everything with the red-hot gold of the desert, which becomes more and more every time you rise, noticing how the waters that used to caress the fertile lands now nourish the sand.

And you know what will happen next — SETH has never been a secretive type, even if his method of hunting was closer to big cats hiding until they get close enough to bite into the throat and gnaw, taking them to their hideout. SETH is the same cat — big, red and strong, smelling of mature omega when he notices that you are more responsive to this fragrance.

SETH is not at all deeply interested in the topic of "let's mate" — are you sure that he is attracted not at all to your physical data or smell, but to how comfortable and safe he is next to you, letting him finally relax, looking for comfort in your waters, and that if he decided that you would be his, then you will be his.

He will always find you.

𓂀 SETH is persistent, stubborn and aggressive. Even if his emotions are a sphere that is easy to push and cause pain, you understand perfectly well that he is the god who will break rather than bend.

But when he asks you what happens to the bodies of those soldiers that he led to war, when they find themselves in the Nile, like bags full of blood, breathing and thinking recently, at first you don't know what to answer — not because you can't share his silent pain, looking like a scorpion that suddenly bared you have a soft vulnerable tummy, but because you have nothing to answer.

What happens to the bodies? The Nile absorbs them — everything that was dumped into the waters finds itself in the stomachs of animals or in water particles, carrying with it such an amount of memory that nothing else can contain.

“... If I die one day, will you promise that my memory will be preserved in your waters?”

You no longer know if you are talking about the waters of the Nile or something else — but you know that you will probably never find SETH like this again.

Unusually fragile, as if really an ordinary omega who just wants to have a family, a common nest and puppies. To have you as an alpha, to be in the same nest with you and to have children together.

What can you say other than consent? No matter what happens, he will always remain in your memory — as a special memory that will never be erased.

“... Thank you. I'll never forget you either. And I won't let go.”

His eyes are burning just like the sunset on the background.

“We'll be together. Always. Because I chose you and I won't let you go.”

𓂀 His power becomes stronger, and when you meet him again, you have nothing to oppose when the sand from the land and the bottom rises to grab you.

Undoubtedly, it wasn't something that you 'didn't expect' — SETH was never the type who tried to hide what intentions he had if he saw that it would affect your attitude, and even if he found comfort in your touches and hugs, covering him like a blanket from the whole world, he never had this safe habit of 'being content with little'. His intentions were obvious from the first meeting and did not change at all — you were perfect, from head to toe, the only one with whom he would like to spend one heat and then make you spend thousands more, finally feeling complete, finished.

He, the god of the Desert and War, with you, Deity of the Nile flood — is not the best couple that can be?

'No'?

... Ha, does someone think that things like "imperfect couple" or "more worthy" or "more accessible" or "morally wrong" or something else will stop him?

Does he need permission? If he wants it — he will get it. And nothing can stop him.

Even if you are a beta, you smell fertile, pleasant, sweet — you smell of life, sex, from which children are born, absorbing the spilled blood and creating from it what brings birth and fertility, and SETH has always been more than gambling and ready to put everything on the line.

And you knew it.

Even if you are safe in the water, once you get out, nothing can save you — especially when you step on the sand, which immediately becomes your cage, locking you in. The waters immediately splash out of the Nile, crushing on him, but now SETH moves only a couple of steps, becoming much more powerful — and when palms grab by the wrists while teeth close on neck, everything inside you starts screaming again that you need to run right now.

Now the sand turns out to be decorated with spots of the deity's blood.

His mark pulsates on never-marked neck — and although it is not the same among deities as among people, you clearly see that for him it was not at all 'just a bite' or a 'mating mark', but a sign of possession, while the pupils in the blood-red iris, the shade of red-hot metal, expand, and a nimble pink tongue licks the blood from scarlet lips.

Red.

RED RED RED.

Nails are no worse than the claws of a wolf, and even fangs look like they can easily tear apart a dozen other people who decide to intervene.

The sand squeezes your feet so tightly that you can't even twitch.

This is all completely wrong.

You cowardly escape into the waters — betas are not capable of mating, are not created for this, closer to 'asexual beings' who do not have a biological task in the form of giving birth, much closer to the primordial asexual matter than to the omegas and alphas giving birth, but for some reason a mark with an imprint burns on his neck which didn't exist before.

Was it you? Or was it the part of you that you denied? You didn't know. It is easier to plunge into the native waters than to try to figure out why for the first time its fragrance was so dizzying, or why you went for something like this. You're not like that at all — not like that at all. It's not normal.

But you'll have to get out soon anyway.

You don't want your omega to get hurt while calling you, right, alpha?

Interlude

“I'm surprised you decided to step in anyway, dear.”

When the sand almost gently wraps around your hands, you realize that the biggest stupidity you can do is to try to escape.

Even if there is water in things like vases in the room, this is too little to create the necessary amount — and even to make sand soft and heavy, such a meager amount is not enough, except to pour it on him and break a vase on this face.

“Wasn't it you who liked to be constantly huddled in your little shell? Hiding there from any danger and thinking that it will help you?”

His hands are not the same as before — slightly rough, wide palms that easily slide over your cool skin, leaving warm traces, slightly scratching with sharp nails, as if hinting that you should not do rash things; if he did not smell like a blooming omega, you would think that he was alpha or alpha-like beta.

“But it turns out that if it's not me, but someone else, then you're ready to help them! No matter how much blood I shed, you didn't come out — but as soon as it was Isis, you immediately got out to help.”

His mark on your neck has not been pulsating for a long time, but when his fingers touch your neck, he freezes for a moment, assessing the scar left, which is almost impossible to notice — and from something, your body again feels this soreness, fettering for a moment from the realization of what happened before the brain began to work feverishly.

Then.

Now you are experiencing phantom pain until you realize that it is not 'phantom' — SETH shamelessly licks your blood from his fingers when he realizes that he scratched the old mark.

“This is wrong.”

Even when blood drips down from the shoulder, you know that's not what you need to worry about — his body is hot as the desert during the day, especially when his hips easily sit on top of yours, taking care that the sand does not let go of your hands.

“I promised you I'd always be there for you; although it was you who avoided me all these years, not appearing even when the corpses filled the entire Nile, while the other gods were terrified of what was happening — but I understand. A lot to do, yes? You've always been busy and strict, ever since our first meeting, when you doused me like some kind of animal.”

The thick scent of omega is so strong that you are not sure if it smells from him or if it is something else — the same thing that made you bite his neck then; your bite is also still burning on his skin, although it looks much more noticeable on him, although you are sure that you bit weaker than him.

The sweet bloody fragrance makes you dizzy.

“And when I saw you, I realized that you didn't live well either; after all, who but me could take care of a hermit like you?”

His hands, in spite of everything, are omeganine soft and pleasant, even if he uses them to look even more wrongly charming, as if he did not sneak into your bedroom — in which you were definitely expecting this meeting — to "talk heart to heart" while his hot wet slippery thighs touch your hips,

obviously.

“I was doing the wrong thing. I gave you the 'right to choose', thinking that this is what lovers should do — but, you know, people around me explained to me what I did wrong. By own example. And I'm ready to show you what I should have done back then, instead of this idiotic thought that you'd think it over and make a nest with me...”

He purrs — deep in his throat, like a big cat, when a strong flexible hand gently rests on your chest while the second one uses the surface behind as a support, rubs against your thighs, leaving sticky wet traces of juice on your bare skin, from touching which your skin burns, and you don't look at him, making sure not to do anything you might regret,

“Look at your omega.”

but it's hard to do when his hand moves from your chest to your throat, not squeezing, but feeling quite threatening, even if you are sure that it will not cause any harm.

“Don't you dare take your eyes off me or I'll scratch them out. You can only look at me and see only me. No one else and nothing else.”

The way he hovers feels almost the same as when he was able to summon you for the first time — his hair hangs down freely, like the flames of candles burning around you, and the same abnormally bright glow burns in his eyes, like the eyes of a cat. Or a wolf.

An abandoned, starved wolf.

“... Like I said, no one cares about you but me — you can fight this idea all you want, but we both know it's true.”

It's wet, wet, hot, sticky, tight between SETH'S thighs — you didn't consider yourself a 'virgin', but when the smell gets stronger and sharper, even you need time to get rid of the veil of excitement that covers eyes in the basest way, looking at his strong thighs while red hair falls over his shoulders, revealing a view of the most handsome omega in your life.

“Therefore...”

His lips are scarlet, thin, beautiful, and when he bends over you, you can't feel the inarticulate delight and the misunderstanding that follows it, associated with the simultaneous desire to pull away from repeated unusual stimulation and the desire to take this stimulation, grab by the hair and breed until it becomes clear that you will need a joint nest, in which he will keep the puppies while you fill him again and again.

Over and over, until his belly is rounded.

This is wrong.

His legs are slender and strong, ideal so that you don't have to do anything while SETH is able to at least move his knees — but you are sure that if you just wrap your hands around his hips and squeeze, you will get much more pleasure and delight, hammering into him with the basest this is wrong in a way.

It's the smell of omega. Definitely the smell of omega.

You yourself can't feel like this for him — for omega, who first marked you, then pursued you for many years and now, finally getting a chance, immediately pounced like an overexcited wolf, to such an extent that you can see the juice flowing down his thighs, although you are sure that even he does not realize it himself, considering it nothing more than a 'punishment'.

“... let me take care of–”

Of course you will.

Everything happens in the blink of an eye — the water, the sand, astonished expression on his face and how it takes you no more than a couple of minutes to find yourself in a deliciously tight heat, from which his claws immediately scratch your hands holding him on his back until it bleed, but nothing in him tries to escape, even if SETH growls mixed with purring, choking on words as you snuggle tighter, allowing something more animal, dirty to take control.

You smell of life, passion, sex — 'the very sex from which children are born', the very life that gave rise to mortals, and you know that you have something to fill this womb with.

When his cheeks are covered with a bright blush, reminiscent of the shade of his eyes and hair; you can't help but reach out to burrow into his neck, not caring about the sand that is wrapped around your ankle — and not caring about the aggressive imperiousness with which SETH squeezes you while sharp fangs bite your lips almost to the point of blood, greedily kissing, almost devouring.

If you leave me again, I'll find you and kill you.