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When "is there someone else" starts playing

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@kathy-ifnt

I found a juicy reference on my ttl and i didn’t hesitate

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oh my…

ac : dawit_min.kim on insta

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geto ∩^ω^∩

ac: mossbun_

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That face he did to jogo! 😏

Reblogs are appreciated!!

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POV: Nanami's eating you 🥰.

Ps. Censored it just to be safe. You can view uncensored image here 👈☺️.

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Choso who gets a job in a local cafe. It’s calming there, the sunlight streaming through the windows, coffee beans warming in the sun. The counter is just perfectly positioned so the morning rays make him feel lit from within, glowing and bright, so different from the darkness he inhabited for eons before.

He waters all the plants every day, watches them sprout new leaves with satisfaction. It feels nice to help things grow, watch the vines trailing in the wind as the door opens and shuts.

By far the best thing about his time spent at work though, is that you stop by every morning on the way to work. You always order the same thing, he knows it by heart, places it on the counter ready without you needing to ask with a small, silent smile.

The way you say thank you makes his pale cheeks heat. He lives for those words leaving your lips so politely. Quietly, he daydreams about you all the time as he goes about his tasks. Where you’re going, your smile, how sweet you look with the light he loves so much highlighting your figure.

Once you leaned over the counter and told him one of his shirt buttons was undone. Your head tilted playfully, as his breath caught in his throat, hands usually so coordinated suddenly fumbling to fix the fastening.

Choso replays the moment several times a day, has even deliberately considered leaving another one loose, making a small mistake so you speak to him like that again.

He notices you like a particular leafy plant in the corner of the shop, touching the smooth patterned fronds idly every time you walk past it.

The next time you grab a coffee from the tall, pale barista with the amber coloured eyes and black messy hair, there’s a little cutting of that plant in a cup of water next to your drink.

Roots already formed where he’s grown it for you.

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Cun*y Suguru 🖤😏

Full artwork 🔞on Patreon

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tutoring fratboy!sukuna is fine enough, he pays well and as long as he's passing his classes he's nice enough to you between classes as well. but his attention span is short, and his motivation to study is even thinner frayed. you can't get him to sit still for ten minutes—and when he doesn't pay attention, it's more to the fact he can see your bra outlined under your shirt.

you know he wants to get in your pants. he belongs to a frat: he's open about his intentions with you, but sex doesn't help his grades and he's paying you to help his future. he'd never pay for sex... except for that one time, and the time after that.

but your study sessions grow tedious the more his want boils over. because he insists on sitting closer to get a better look at the book you're referencing. and he's just leaning in to read easier, not to inhale your scent and wonder if you're as wet as he is hard. you cant handle every session running over by fifteen minutes just because he isn't picking up on things like he did when you first started tutoring him.

so, you propose a compromise.

you cockwarm him throughout your study session, and if he recalls the material you went over at the end, you let him fuck you.

and how easily he absorbs all that new knowledge makes you wonder if he really needed a tutor in the first place. more like motivation was what he was needing.

and he's happy to be an eager learner if it means he's rewarded with you splayed over his desk, legs parted as he drills his massive cock into you. you moan so pretty, just as he imagined you would when he first approached you to tutor him.

you cum twice on his cock before he flips you over and fucks you ass-up on his bed. and although his mind is preoccupied with just how well you take his length, how warm and wet and needy you are for his cock even three orgasms in—he also wonders how mad you're going to be when you realise he doesn't even take the class you're tutoring him in.

eh, you don't have to know.

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Thinking about how when you’re drunk—and I mean really drunk—you get it in your head to catcall men. They could use a little harassment. When you reach that point, your friends immediately know it’s time to cut you off, acting like the Secret Service as they usher you out of the bar and towards the Uber. But they couldn’t anticipate the group of men standing outside the bar swapping laughs and smoking.

Of course you pick the scariest one of the lot and:

“Hey!” you shout, half giggling. “Hey—you, in the mask!”

The man turns. You can’t see his mouth with the surgical mask in place but you can tell his eyebrows are raised. He’s fucking huge, towering over his counterparts (who are nothing to sniff at), thick and strong. His head cocks in silent question.

“Can I get your number?” you shout, licking your friend’s hand when she slaps it over your mouth. All your friends rush to brush the guy off, but he’s already ashing his cigarette under his boot, slipping his hands into his pocket, and crossing the street quietly.

He stays a healthy distance away, aware of how it looks: a man his size approaching a group of young, inebriated women. You think he’s come to harass you in return, or maybe just to mock you—either way you are stunned silent, mouth agape, eyes wide. He’s so much taller up this close.

“Got a pen?” he asks.

He only approaches then, shoulders hunched to make himself appear smaller and innocuous. He takes your hand in his own and writes his phone number on your forearm.

When you wake up hungover the next morning, his number is there on your arm along with a reminder that you hadn’t been able to see in the dim lighting of the parking lot: XXX-XXXX—S. Drink water.

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you just know his hair routine was 20 steps- got brushed twice a day, wrapped up every night, oiled every week, and moisturized in a hair mask twice a month

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dirty gainer

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going up, going down

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Long hair Sukunaaaa

PATREON | BLUESKY

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Something something Officer Russ pulling his sweet little fiance over, searching her and eating her out over his squad car something something.

Dare I continue?

@xoxunhinged @muneca-lemon-steppa @gardenof-venus @misshugs @soraya-daydreams @frudoo @renpodz @yesornowaitidontknow @thevoiceinyourheadx @shadowdark00 @rynbeerose @lunamoonbby @incredible-walker @identity2212 @pukbadger @urbimom @corvid007 @wordsfromshona @shadows-empress @m00xy @canyonmooncreations @oniraki @evie-119 @havoc973 @kylies-love-letter @ishipdabands @cmbghost @heckinspooks @midwesternwitchery @eggy-yoke @redzluvvesage @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @kaeyasfuturewife @masterclassofescapism

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Prologue

“You will wed Sukuna Ryomen.”

You can still recall the ringing in your ears when your father informed you of your fate: you were to marry the King of Curses. And no, he didn't merely inform you—it was a command.

Your father—if that title even fits a man like him—was the head of your clan. Some people branded him as a tyrant and a bastard by others. His insatiable hunger for power was notorious, and he revelled in it, basking in its intoxicating grip like a pig wallowing in their own shit. Power was his only love, and he indulged in it shamelessly.

No one was prepared for a calamity like Ryomen Sukuna erupting onto the scene. He rampaged through the region, killing and cannibalizing as he went. He conquered land and subjugated villages, forcing them to worship him as some kind of god. The four-armed menace was an unstoppable force, thriving on death and debauchery. But your father, the power-hungry despot he was, could care less about the devastation and was more concerned about maintaining his control. And when threatened, he set machinations in motion.

This is where you played a crucial role. You would be the tool to bring down the King of Curses.

You possessed a unique yet horrifying gift: a single touch from you would cause living organisms to rot then combust from within, leaving behind nothing but a steaming mass of flesh. You first became aware of your ability as a child while playing with a cat. One moment, it was alive, purring contentedly. The next, it was a ripped-open bloody carcass. Terrified, you refrained from any physical contact with others, going so far as to wear gloves constantly to avoid any mishaps. As you matured, you gradually gained a bit of mastery over your cursed talent.

However, seven years ago, a tragic misfortune occurred when you inadvertently touched your beloved mother, who was pregnant at the time, transforming her into a nothing but a grotesque pile of mess. The horror, shame and remorse from this incident gnawed at you, as she was the sole source of maternal love and affection in your life. And your father, who should have been horrified by the incident, greeted this power with almost giddy enthusiasm, seeing it as a potent weapon he could easily exploit.

So now, you will be disguised as a lovely bride, perfectly poised to strike at the King of Curses at the ideal moment. You will embody the ultimate deception—a beautiful facade hiding a deadly threat in silk. And at first, you resisted—of course, you did. Why would you want to marry, let alone allow a fiend like Sukuna to touch you?

But you didn’t have a choice.

Your father was always one step ahead, manipulating you at every turn. He knew exactly how to control you, constantly leveraging the one thing that mattered most to you: your sister. She was innocent and pure, a treasure you wanted to protect. Your father would threaten her life, saying, "I will give her to a pack of men and let them rip her body apart," to force your compliance.

So, you said yes, and with that, the wedding day was set.

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ryomen sukuna