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k some of my personal sukuna hcs bc he's fucking hot and that cover was just?? ugh, gagged and bound:
sukuna is the type of boyfriend who would start flirting with you halfway through an argument
sukuna would threaten to fight someone if he saw them trying to talk to you in public
he likes making those triangle pattern things whenever he vacuums
serious as hell in public but so fucking silly in private. he has a really fucked up sense of humor, but you always end up laughing at his jokes bc of his delivery
every cat seems to like him even though he says he hates them
waits until the third date before he asks if you've ever been tied up before bc he thinks that's the gentleman-ly thing to do
would talk shit about you with your parents behind your back
he'd simply disagree if you tried to break up with him
that's all I really have rn
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anyways, suguru has the sluttiest waist
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canon sukuna sees a pussy with no bush and asks u if u have some sort of disease
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Fandom needs less representation for tops who are selfless and "just like helping their partners feel good and explore their desires" and more representation for tops who are embodying the Nine Inch Nails "Closer"/Depeche Mode "Soothe My Soul" vibes in terms of being a broken trembling husk of a person who is grounded and made whole and purified by someone else willingly absorbing the brute force of their need. That's just my opinion, man.
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big big big fan of subtly possessive kisses. one hand on the back of your head and one on your throat, gentle as can be….leaning in and being kissed in front of a group of people just like that…no loud declarations bc they aren’t needed after you two just stare into each others eyes for a minute after you’ve separated
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“there she is, that’s my girl” after the tears start rolling down your cheeks
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men should get on their knees and bury their face in between your thighs like they would die if they don’t taste you more often but that’s just me
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a touch of salt, a taste of flesh
synopsis: in which toji cannot decide whether or not he wants to eat or love the pretty little human he saved from drowning. w.c: 2k.
pairing: merman!toji fushiguro x f!reader.
warnings: mature themes! mentions of gore and blood, mentions of drowning, open ending. sfw but MDNI!
a/n: if you saw me post this yesterday no you didn’t. please don’t let the fic flop this time lol. heavily inspired by this delicious art!
divider / ao3
the ocean loved to keep her secrets.
she coveted every single one of them, for each was a precious pearl of knowledge about her soul. to know even a single one was to be doomed to a life of fear, to be at the mercy of her passing whims, because you could never tell when she would decide to punish you for it and bash you into pieces.
she didn’t think she knew anything at all about the ocean.
but here she was, coughing up salty secrets trapped deep within her lungs.
again.
while a pair of green eyes watched her.
they were always watching her.
“why do you continue to tempt the sea?” he purred, a slight smirk touching his lips. “little human”
little human.
because that is what she was, and what he most certainly wasn't.
it was in the way he smiled at her – cold and dark and cruel as the smothering sea that had tried snuff her out, curling around her throat like tendrils of seaweed.
a dark, shark-like tail rose from the sea as the creature tilted his head, wet strands of his black hair dripping to the side. he winced every time she coughed some more, as if it were far too loud for his liking, and looked down at her like she was a grain of sand stuck between his scales.
she probably was nothing.
especially not to something like him.
“do you really need to know what it’s like when death creeps up on you?” he continued, dismissively waving a clawed, scaly hand at her. “i could always just tell you how it feels.”
she sucked in a shaky, pathetic heaving breath of sea air into her chest, still gasping and sputtering onto the white-washed sand. the coarse grains scratched her palms painfully, and she tried to calm herself, breathing in and out with the rise and fall of the tide.
his eyes narrowed playfully, thin slits of green in the night. “there, there. you’ll be just fine.”
she didn’t feel like she would be.
there was nothing comforting about him at all.
he was a predator.
his teeth were just that little bit longer than they should be – sharper, pearlescent, and flashing dangerously in the silver moonlight. even though this was the third time he has saved her from succumbing to the depths of the sea, she still didn’t know why he had saved her, or why he still continued to.
but it had to be for something.
or else, he wouldn’t have saved her the first time. he would have let her fingers disappear beneath the waves forever, let her sink to the bottom of the darkest ocean. he wouldn’t keep on watching her from the shoreline, circling round and round the island like a shark drawing ever closer to its prey.
waiting to strike, ready to bite.
“why?” was all she could muster in a hoarse voice, sand tickling her throat.
“why?” he repeated, that saccharine smirk playing on his lips again. “why what, little human?”
“why do you keep on singing?”
the green slits widened a fraction, and he started to laugh. her heart hammered against her chest, and she was afraid she might have said the wrong thing.
“is that what you would call it?” he asked incredulously, a sprinkle of offense creeping into his voice. “singing?”
she gulped.
what else would she call it?
that was what it sounded like to her. she would sit beneath a gnarled tree at the cliffs’ edge, where the earth dipped sharply towards the sea, its rocky face curled over the sea like an old man’s wrinkly hand. there, she would listen, trying to make sense of the strange words wafting from his tongue in the salty breeze.
she would’ve started a war for him.
would have shoved her arms into the bodies of the bent and broken, rummage through all their bones to offer him their still-warm, unbeating hearts.
but there was something in his haunting baritone that made her want to cry, to surrender to the sea, naively believing she could somehow help save him from his own restlessness. to block out the echoing memories that, in that moment, were blurred together and she wasn’t sure if they belonged to him or her.
there had to be some kind of magic involved.
because tonight was the third time she had heard his haunting song.
and the third time she had mindlessly wandered into the arms of the ocean and her false welcome, full of promises she had no intention of keeping.
despite knowing full well that she couldn’t even swim.
his laughter died with the wind, a low, lilting hum lingering at the edge of his words. “maybe you shouldn’t be listening so closely,” he murmured, his eyes heavy with something that looked like hunger. “the sea doesn’t sing for humans.”
he drifted a touch closer to where she was lying, slicing through the shallow water like a blade. she sat up straight, digging her heels into the sand to scramble away from him.
“and yet, here you are,” he said, amusement curling his lips. “again.”
she licked the salt from the cracks in her lips, stuttering, “i-i don’t k-know why.”
maybe it was her obvious helplessness, or perhaps he could smell her hopeless desperation like rotting flesh, but his eyes softened.
“it’s the call for my…” he trailed off, smacking his lips as he searched for the word. “heart.”
he said the it disdainfully, like he didn’t really want to believe he had a heart at all. she couldn’t imagine that he had one either, or that it wanted for anything beyond his most base desires.
flesh and blood.
“your heart?” she repeated in disbelief.
he glowered at her, his tail flicking through the water in annoyance. “yes,” he said, adding much more quietly. “and it seems i’ve found it.”
run away, now.
“w-what?” she sputtered, salt-coated sand flying to the back of her throat.
the creature grinned widely, mischievous fangs glinting, “oh, you know, little human.”
she did know; she just didn’t want to admit it.
“i-i never– i don’t understand.”
“no? then why do you keep trying to swim to me?”
she didn’t know what to say to that.
it was silent for a long time, the sweeping sea moving backwards and forwards like the ebb of time between them. she could see more of him too, even though she knew better than to look.
and he was beautiful.
his tail was longer than she thought, silky smooth and gray like a shark’s was, marred with pink scars and rakes as deep and painful as the ocean. it curled high above his head as he lay belly down in the sand.
oh, but his eyes.
they were a chest of shimmering emeralds, locked onto her every minuscule movement. but his pupils were infinite, a black hole of mysteries and knowledge of ancients city that had come and gone, of seas of blood and red misery.
yet, he was here, on this unremarkable beach at the edge of the world, calling for his heart – for her.
and she’d somehow answered.
“what’s your name?” she blurted out.
there was a strange rumble in his chest before he replied with, “toji.”
toji.
it reminded her of the cold kiss of winter, the inevitable conquest of snow over the trees and blooms, covering everything in its white death. he belonged to the ice-covered seas of the north and south, definitely not from places where the sun and joy pierced through the waves.
there was no doubt that toji was king of those icy seas, reigning supreme over the darkness found within the kelp forests of the deep trenches.
“how old are you?”
toji tilted his head curiously, completely silent as he pondered and searched for an answer.
“how long have humans sailed the seas?”
how very lonely.
she knew she shouldn’t feel anything for toji, least of all feel sorry for him. but here she was, itching for him to take her hand and drag her into the depths he called home. maybe that was what his song meant; perhaps all he wanted was someone to share in ruling over the ice and sea.
how ironic that she couldn’t even swim.
he drummed his sharp fingers against a closed fist, slow and irritatingly suspenseful. “you’re bleeding, you know?”
she frowned and looked down at both sides of her palms, between her pruned fingers, and then further down.
oh.
there was a small stream of blood beneath her left foot, trailing toward the sea before being swept away with the tide.
straight towards toji.
that was when she saw the dangerous twitch dancing on his scarred lip, and she realized just how long he had been holding back for.
“i’m sorry,” she whispered breathlessly, and she truly meant it.
toji’s eyes narrowed again, but there was a spark of anger in them this time. “don’t apologize,” he hissed. “never– not for that.”
for that, for bleeding.
would a shark thank her for covering up a wound?
she didn’t think so.
toji asked for her name, and she offered it freely, willingly. he repeated it loudly, the deep baritone of his voice starting to sing her name in an increasingly agitated-sounding tone.
mine, mine, mine.
her name wasn’t her own anymore.
he was looking at her now, like he wanted to slice open her chest, pull out her heart, and play with the strings that made it beat. to shove his fingers into her aorta to say that he had been really inside her – his – heart.
mine, mine, mine.
and then, his cold hand was gripping her ankle, claws lightly digging into her skin.
she let out a yelp as toji dragged her toward him, the sea rushing over her cheeks and into her ears. he was on top of her, the wetness of the sea bleeding into her, his weight heavy and suffocating, pushing every bit of air out of her fragile lungs. his fingers dug deep into her thighs, just about to pierce through the plush skin.
she beat against the hardness of his chest, “t- cough! toji, please, stop.”
but he wasn’t really there, caught somewhere between the whispering blood ocean and the misty memories haunting his soul.
a pearly tear slipped down his cheek.
“i ca-ah! can’t breath.”
the same deep sound rumbled from his chest, and toji lifted himself up from her ever so slightly. she sucked in great gasping breaths, her eyes teary and blurry as she looked at him through lashes laden with salt.
another milky tear fell from his left eye and dripped down onto the curve of her cheek.
“would you slip away?” toji whispered, his voice rolling over her like the tide, but he sounded far, far away. “into the sea, for me.”
she didn’t want to.
but then he started to hum low and sweet, his wet lips pressed to her neck, and she was ready to.
she could see through the mist and blood now, far above the clouds and the sky and the sun breaking through the horizon. her heart was burning with salt and secrets – secrets she didn’t know she possessed.
until now.
that she was one with the sea, and maybe always had been. so, she didn’t mind all that toji was slowly pulling her towards the depths instead of away from them.
a flash of brilliant green lit up the sky.
was it toji’s eyes or a farewell from the sorrowful sun?
she didn’t know; she didn’t care anymore.
she was his to keep now.
ི♡࿐
©storiesoflilies 2024, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.
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I babysit for a girl who use to think her mom’s name was “my love” because her dad said it so often to her and that’s just freaking cute I can’t
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depression + s/h + a very questionable suguru
suguru wears long sleeves whenever he goes out in public for a reason. he's not ashamed of the scars nor is he embarrassed of them – he just thinks the looks he gets are annoying and ridiculous. he's fucking sick of them.
every time he catches anybody staring at his arms whenever he does happen to be wearing a t-shirt or he’s just got his sleeves rolled up, he simply stares at the person with a straight face until their eyes meet, and then gives them a little smile; his eyes turn into crescent moons and his head tilts to the side – there’s something so dismissive about the expression that the person has no other option than to just… avert their gaze awkwardly. suguru gets a sick kind of pleasure from doing this, he thinks their discomfort is deserved.
because there’s nothing to look at.
at home, he wears whatever he wants – he doesn’t try to hide them, he doesn’t think about them. the scars are a part of him; the melancholy is woven into him with great intricacy, with a steady hand and steel blade. and he doesn’t feel the need to shy away from any of that.
and if you happen to be just like him, burdened and rotting from the inside out… he’ll water and feed you as if you’re a wounded animal in desperate need of care. but he won’t make you better and he won’t make you worse – he’ll do just enough to keep you clinging to him. after all, he thinks you’re perfect like this.
he’ll love you.
he’ll kiss you and your scars with the purest form of affection sprouting from his lips, his eyes warm and sweet as ever as he cradles you in his arms. he’ll draw you a bath and he’ll sit with you there, he’ll let you wash his hair and he’ll tell you how proud of you he is.
bonded together forever by a twisted red string of fate, he knows you’re meant to be.
#sick and twisted suguru my beloved#sorry not sorry this man is designed to be twisted and sick and flawed and toxic#yandere suguru geto#listen i know this probably says something Unfortunate about me but before you judge pls consider the following:#therapy is very expensive without health insurance#and fanfiction is free
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