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#[ || The Starving Glutton || ]
poorly-drawn-mdzs · 9 months
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Sharing is Caring!
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#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#lan wangji#jiang cheng#While listening to the Lotus Seed extra I was like 'aw this art is so cute.'#Post The Fanfic Fiasco (re: last comic's tags) I am haunted by the green orbs. WWX has a bag of edible green orbs and I am in hell.#First draft of this comic's script has JC saying 'dude you wouldn't even share with me!' and I love his little sibling indignation.#Middle child power is knowing that you don't have to share with your siblings. The little wet eyes and weak hand slaps do NOTHING.#JC probably already ate all of his lotus seeds. That's on you dude!#Part of me wants to get deeper with the metaphor of the lotus seeds here. It is a gesture of a certain kind of affection.#JYL gives something to WWX she does not quite share with JC. And WWX in turn gives something to LWJ he does not share with JC.#Really puts JC's line 'You're always eating...eating eating' into a very different light.#There are other kinds of starving besides hunger. There are other ways to be a glutton than just food and drink.#WWX's character pre-burial mounds is heavily focused on 'Indulgence'. Be it wine or flirting or hunting or eating-#-or receiving admiration; He is always indulging in ways we never see JC do.#I think the intentional contrast was with the Lan's 'Live simple and without indulgence' lifestyle. LWJ is the abstainer to wwx's gluttony.#But it does expand to JC as well! Both are locked into the role model position to have friction against WWX's apparent freedom.#I think LWJ and JC (at this point) see WWX as something they both want (in different capacities) and someone they want to be.#Yet despite the history between them it is not JC who WWX reaches out to. It's LWJ.#The boy already has an inferiority complex! Stop making it accidently worse!
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//open starter for Genya because I C A N. Anyone can reply!!
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A shadowy figure standing in the moonlight is all that can be seen; soft growling and liquid dripping is all that can be heard.
On the figure are easily-noticeable stains on their hands, clothes, and face, lips pulled into a snarl as wide eyes stare down at the lump of meat.
The lump of meat that isn’t disintegrating, the lump of meat that continues to bleed, wounds not regenerating.
The unidentifiable, unrecognizable lump of human flesh.
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poke poke . a nice gentle poke from a taller blondie and shadows being cast over them .
" HELLO THERE ! "
(Gerard from @agnessmadness @ anyone)
At the poke, alarm rushes through the gunwielder, and they whirl around, bringing their Wakizashi and pointing it at the-
-why the hell is he so tall-
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-guy, eyes narrowing into a distasteful glare.
“Fuck’re you?”
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pohlepen · 1 year
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♡ what form would your daemon take ? 
your daemon would take the form of a primate! those who have primate daemons are socially savvy and charismatic people who know how to get on people's good sides. they're often inspiring leaders, though just as often manipulators with strong intuition. they have a gift for understanding and are led by their insatiable curiosity.
tagged by: no one, stole it from my babe @malka-lisitsa​ 
tagging: @fuckedprophet​ / @localsalt​ / @e1igius​ / @sarahbraeden​ / @nightmarecountry​ / @wildscratch​ ( for my man derek! ) / @renkniighted​ / @celestieu​ / + YOU!!
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wny1965 · 9 months
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Pluhplumpin-planten fat horndaddy over 320 puhpounds now. Whose chest to I get to stand on and masturbate to photos of you other fat studs on here. Happy Well-Fed New Year human humpcushions.
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hearties-circus · 1 year
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Yknow I don't think I've had a magnum ice cream since the night before the punishment and having one now.. yeah I cant really blame myself this ice cream is good
#gamer txt.#sure yes i shouldnt have eaten that many they were meant for everyone#that being said being a glutton for ice cream is hardly something i deserved to be starved for#and i mean honestly id do it again magnums are good#it is weird to think that they are technically what started it i know the punishment was for me being a bit of a glutton in general right#(can you blame me the house regularly goes completely unstocked for multiple days sorry being ravenous when i actually get food)#(hell im used to substituting icing and hot chocolate for food multiple days in a row just because no one bothered to get food i could eat)#(and then my mum even took the icing sugar away from me. 1 less thing i could eat. i think the icing sugar is still kept way high up)#but the magnums are what made my mum decide to go full on [no entry to kitchen. at all. you want a drink? ask. you want food? wait.]#[you want the privacy of your own bedroom? too fucking bad. you're not allowed to leave the living room]#for 3 months. it was ice cream man..#and those rules were even worse cause i couldnt leave the living room but everyone else could#if i wanted a drink but no one was in the room with me i just had to wait usually at least an hour or so for someone to come back#i certainly wasnt trying my luck sneaking into the kitchen i was fucking petrified#and g-d if it was my step dad who was the only one with me he'd always pull the 'surely you can get a drink by yourself dont be ridiculous'#and when i never moved he'd do this dramatic sigh and take as long as possible to get me a drink make me feel like a fucking burden#he did ask my mum though cause surely i was allowed to get a drink myself right? most of the dilutant juice in the house was for me#and that fucking glare she gave me like id tried to go in the kitchen and my stepdad was asking cause he caught me#but im gonna be honest as terrified as i was when she reiterate i wasnt allowed in the kitchen at all it did feel kinda good#cause my stepdad was visibly scared too. in my head it was kinda like 'SEE SEE THAT WHAT IT FUCKING FEELS LIKE DONT YOU GET IT'#it is certainly weird though cause no ones apologised for anything. some for better reasons than others#but that first year afterwards that first anniversary my stepdad did bring me food from a local place every other day for like a month#and then last year he did a few times too#i dont think he did it this year#it was like he was apologising for his involvement#but ive never seen any acknowledgement of the punishment or the fact it was a bad thing at all from anyone#its weird cause he must know that it was fucked up why else would he apologise for it. but hes just pretending it never happened too#its put me in a weird spot. cause it all happened during lockdown yknow the only people aware of it are my family.#and theyre not going to talk about it#first time i ever lost weight. real visibly too. fucked up my appetite so bad that after it ended i lost weight again bc i just couldn't eat
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hor3nee · 9 months
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• Life •
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Sukuna grappling becoming a father while you give birth.
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CW/TW: GN! reader, Labour/Childbirth, Sukuna typical violence mentions, BRIEF suggestive stuff, Nothing graphic, Religious metaphors & LOTS of life/death talk, (LMK if I should add anything else!)
Characters: Sukuna x Reader
AN: Nobody dies in this fic! It's fluff-ish. (It's Sukuna and reader giving birth, as fluffy as that can be man), prequel to this Descendant fic
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   Life was such a fickle thing, not that it mattered to Sukuna. He was above life, death sickness and health, beyond it, above the proper empathy to care for it. It wasn't that he didn't understand, because he did, once mortal himself, and existing on this earth surrounded by the humanity that populated on it for years as a curse, he understood. But there was no legitimate reason for it to matter to him unless he could gain from a life, there was no reason to mind it.
And by the loose, greedy and otherwise just gluttonous standards of what it meant to be a creature of 'gain' to Sukuna, you fit it to the T, your life mattered to him. Your life, it was something he wanted, no needed to maintain to be kept satisfied, if you weren't there to be by his side, he'd be left starved.
To lose such a thing, would only ignite a certain wrath inside of him.
The screams of agony that parted from your pretty little lips had his chest twisting into a feeling of irritation. He much preferred your screams of ecstasy, making you scream his name in sweet pretty moans when he bedded you. Not this, screams of something he was also the culprit of in fairness, sobbed screams of pain as your body tore to birth his child.
Sukuna enjoyed such screeches of terror, weak defeated sobs he could rip and tear from the pathetic lot of mortals he terrorized, all of whose lives served no purpose to him. The issue is, yours does serve purpose, a great purpose to Sukuna. You're always there, by his side, and when you're not, it bothers him, he's greedy, hungry for you.
Your pain only infuriates him, he doesn't like it at all, no, he loathes listening to it.
Finally, finally, it stops after what felt like torturously long, it comes to a stop. Like that, the tightness inside his chest unwrapped, Sukuna didn't think he'd ever feel relief, he wouldn't need to, he had never fought an opponent he couldn't defeat, pillaged an army that would come close to his strength there was no concerns or worry for him to have to be relieved from. Yet here he was basking in such relief. Your screams stop, now instead replaced by the bothersome cries of something much more smaller. Squeaky small wails, that of an infant. his infant.
"Lord Sukuna." A muttered voice of one of the midwives comes through the door separating Sukuna from the delivery room. The door opens to the midwives attending finishing up and then all bowing in submission, their heads hanging low as Sukuna stands by the door-frame.
"Done?" He asks, more so a statement, a demand as everything he speaks is.
"Yes-" The meek voice of a midwife responds, she not daring to look up from the floor of the delivery room.
"Then what the hell are you dimwitted fools doing? OUT." There's the slightest growl in his voice at the command, one that though slight works wonders on any who dare stand in his presence, and to which without a moment of hesitation has all the midwives scatter out of the room, rushing out with their heads low. Only one pauses to shut the door behind herself, not wanting to risk the stupidity of leaving the door open.
Now, only the sounds of a baby's cries echo in the room, the small thing wrapped, protected in a small blanket. The moment is deafening as it is loud, there are as many thoughts as there is nothing in his eyes as he stares at the small baby you held. Yes, you made his child, 9 tedious months of him practically carrying you around everywhere and it was out now.
Sukuna was, well Sukuna, he didn't bother thinking much of the specifics, but rather the obvious reality of the situation during those passing months, and didn't see a reason to. He could still sleep with you, could still have you around, could still listen to your voice speak with him in converse. Was it different? Sure, but in no way that bothered him. Cravings? The King of the Curses can provide feasts. Tired? You needn't walk, he has four arms for a reason. The bodily change? Sukuna guts humans like pigs, the size of your stomach was far from grotesque to such a demon like Sukuna.
But now, he is met with the reality, the sight, the sound the smell of the newborn babe, absolutely reeking of familiarity, a literal complete being of two halves, Sukuna and you. It's overwhelming, and not in the way Sukuna likes, not in the hedonistic pleasures he enjoys but rather overwhelming in thoughts. Thoughts as rampant as blank in his mind, fogged like he was considering all of this.
"Sukuna." A clear call of his name comes from your throat despite its audible hoarseness of exhaustion, still as captivating as always, catching his entire attention. No one can command the Sukuna, but he doesn't need to be commanded when you call for him, because it's in his full will and gratification to come to your side, which he of course does. Stepping softly to where you are laid, surrounded by stained sheets, tools and incense presumably used in aid of the birth.
"What?" His throat rumbles, a question with no particular answer aside from the obvious literal whole baby you had birthed in your arms.
"Look at them... Beautiful, aren't they?" And perhaps by the grace of a god he'd doubted existed, there was a moment of serenity now, the fog cleared from the depths of his sick mind as he gazed upon the small bundle in your arms. That was your grace perhaps, no definitely, definitely your grace, you had bore his child.
That damned sinister grin came over his face as he reached down to the infant, the large monstrously large hand of his ever so delicately traced the cheek of the little one, a comical contrast between himself and the child. For the entirety of you and Sukuna's time spent together, he had considered you the only life that truly mattered to him, and now you had created a life from the mere womb, you've given him another life he'd find true importance in.
His child's life, blessed by the sanctified arms that cradled it.
"Divine, rather." He rumbled, a short snicker leaving his twisted tongue, but laced with genuine adoration. Utter devotion to this small life, to both two lives he had found himself so graciously gifted. Of you, of his child.
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@agnessmadness
“Hey!” Genya barks, grabbing ahold of the man’s cape. “Fuck do you think you’re doing, huh?!”
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Genya was just about to kill this Hollow before this bitch just dropped in here and did it for them! And now, he’s dipping like a fuckface! Who the fuck does that- stealing someone’s kill?!
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inkskinned · 1 year
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nobody ever gets the mugshot of gluttony right. these days you think it has nothing to do with bodyweight. what a good trick: that gluttony could take a shape. no, there was never any fault in finishing a meal or in taking second helpings. it was always in taking from others that there was an issue - the oil baron's fingers steepled over dead bodies and stolen lands. gluttony - twin of greed, although most think greed and envy are the siblings - gluttony is pleased with the experience of gaining, is thrilled just-by-having. greed is the one that stays hungry, that has to move forever like a shark. gluttony likes it - "a glutton for punishment" is one who is seeking the harm, who loves the rush.
gluttony is a mother using her daughter's body for a diet testing ground, sharpening the bone angles. gluttony is saying why, well not! to the seventh and eighth mansion or yacht. it is not just wanting the six white horses, it is making sure that the horses came from your stables. it is not just bathing in milk - it is bathing in milk while others are starving.
oh, it's true that some sins still blaze in their bright floral prints. wrath in a white woman yelling at a person of color for even daring to be in her neighborhood. the red, incipient rage of a neck tightened at even the thought we would take the guns away. wrath has laurels, and she is good at her job, and works hard.
but sloth wasn't ever the sleepy morning of depression, the hours spent begging a clouded body to please move goddamn it; the protestant work ethic claiming even rest is somehow demonic. it was never chronic fatigue. sloth was subtle, a grey mist. she is watching you get bullied and she is deciding it is none of her business. she crosses the picket line because - what! it's just chicken, isn't it? she is closing her eyes and turning her head when the next anti-gay legislation passes. someone else will handle it. not the tense freeze of anxiety or a lack of preparation - she knows you're hurting and would rather you stay quiet about it. she tells other people i just don't see what the big deal is.
sloth is a father that doesn't do the dishes. sloth is your boyfriend's innocent shrug you're just better at household shit. sloth isn't the missed opportunity - it is the purposeful desire to just get-someone-else-to-do-it.
greed and envy are doing body shots in the back of a private jet. they are the way they always have been, but are lovers in the age of the internet. greed just finished union busting, is rolling a bitcoin over his knuckles, is about to start another MLM. envy is in a broadbrimmed hat, showing off her instagram life, grinning about how if you want it, work for it.
okay, it's true. you have a soft spot for lust, gathering dust in a corner. so tame in comparison to the others. but how funny lust is always painted as being a woman in tight clothes. you've met actually lustful women - the ones that purposefully climb into your partner's lap, the ones that say lesbians are gross but ask bisexual women into bed with their husbands. a lustful woman is not donned in lace and garters and red: that's how men think lust looks, painting their own sins into frame. this way, the sin displaces as fog and hovers above her: a woman in a dress is lust; what the man experiences is just the natural consequence.
here is the thing: lust is doing just fine, save your pity. lust is running more circles than any of them. lust is shutting down safe sexwork sites while also making teenagers in knee-high socks sex sensations. lust is CEO of an advertising network where women never pass 25 years old. all the bras lust makes are pretty to look at but, when worn, legitimately hurt. lust has a podcast, his fur coat looped around his shoulders, sells the idea that only certain people have value, that sex raises some and destroys others. lust is tilting his head and asking what did you expect when you dress like that? lust shuns you, sneers that everything you want is disgusting and taboo - right until he can figure out how to capitalize off of it. lust has the midas ability: everything he touches becomes an object.
people usually say wrath is the scary one. you agree with FMA here, though: the real dangerous one is pride, and the shit-eating grin. the white cloaks and the nationalism and the inability to apologize. it is every partner who threw a book at your head because you don't respect him. it is every mother who said my son doesn't deserve to have his life ruined over allegations. it is the teacher that fails you because you talked back.
you worry you have this one. you feel guilty when you need help but don't ask for it. prideful. ashamed when you complete something and feel good about it. too proud for your own good. but pride is not the reward of hard work or accomplishment: pride is a twitter feed. it is the thing that has to mask i didn't do anything with look at me.
pride is your father's raised hand, his raised voice. how he was never there when you needed him, but he is still "head of house." he ruins dinner and blames it on you: you're an embarrassment to this family. this is the glass you walk around, the cuts in your feet. how he says this isn't how i raised you and you have to bite back the retort: that's because you didn't actually fucking raise me.
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paticheri · 2 months
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Thinking about one of my favorite fantasies today: coming home to a gluttonous, hedonistic, spoiled housepet of a partner.
I’ve been hard at work all day long. They’ve been lazing on the couch, guzzling soda and grazing on bags upon bags of chips and cookies and containers of assorted takeout while mindlessly binge watching shows and playing games on their phone instead. As I step into the house, they get up as quickly as they can (which is not particularly fast with a belly full of junk like theirs) to shower me with love. They’ve been so lonely, they tell me. It’s so boring in the house without me around! They’re also starving, of course. They sure could go for one of my home cooked meals they love so much. 
When I point out that they look like they’ve already eaten, they pout and explain to me that they haven’t eaten at all, they’ve only been snacking. There’s a difference! Snacks don’t fill you up. Why, they’ve been eating tons of them all day long and they’re nowhere near full! I don’t argue against them. They’re too cute. I give them a kiss and promise them I’ll cook them a big, hearty meal that’ll get them nice and full as soon as I shower and change out of my work clothes. They beam. I know that they’ll end up eating until they’re fit to burst and I’ll have to rub their massively bloated belly to offer them some relief while they burp and moan. We do this every night. And I enjoy every minute of it. I just love pampering my little angel.
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“…did Zenitsu just throw a chair-”
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mammonsrockstargf · 27 days
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MIDNIGHT RUNS
contents: smut, MDNI, beel x afab! reader (reader has a pussy but otherwise no gender descriptions), oral (afab! receiving), overstim
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Midnight runs with Beelzebub are… interesting to say the least.
Most of the time they go well. You both wake up by his stomach growling loudly and he asks if it’s alright that you go down to eat something. You begrudgingly agree and let him slip one of his t-shirts on you. Beel is gigantic, so naturally it’s an oversized fit. Then you take his hand and shuffle down to the kitchen.
The days when things go wrong are whenever the fridge is empty.
It usually ends up with you sitting on the kitchen counter with Beel’s head between your legs, eating you out. Your hands grip his hair desperately and your thighs squeeze his head, but Beel just can’t help it, he’s so hungry and you taste so sweet. 
His giant hands dig into your thighs and his tongue laps at your cunt like a starved man. He’s obsessed with your taste, how delicious you are as your juices run down his chin.
It takes mere minutes before you feel that familiar coil in your lower stomach and a wretched little moan leaves you before you bite your lips to keep quiet. Beel’s thumb is on your clit, rubbing circles into the swollen little bud, as his tongue laps at your hole, gathering up as much arousal as possible. Despite his gluttonous mouth, you’re absolutely dripping. “Beel, nggh, you’re gonna me come,” you gasp, gripping his hair so tight that it makes Beel groan into your cunt. Big hands are still gripping your plush thighs, keeping you still as he devours you.
“Fuck, I’m gonna–“ You’re interrupted by a loud moan, your eyes rolling back into your head as Beel’s tongue pushes you over the edge. It’s filthy, really. Juices gush out, and Beel laps it all up readily, positively becoming the happiest demon in the world.
You ride out your high on his face and Beel lets you. He honestly thinks he could happily die down here. Attentive eyes are locked on you, watching your blissed-out face with complete satisfaction, overjoyed that it’s him who’s making you feel this way.
You soon grow oversensitive, moans turning into whines as you begin to push him away, but Beel merely grunts, continuing to lap at you till he’s gotten every single drop of cum. Then he pulls away, giving you a satisfied smile.
“You think I can bring my midnight snack to bed?”
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desperately need to be eaten out by beel till i’m overstimulated and crying.
thank you for reading!
masterlist | divider by cafekitsune
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daytaker · 8 months
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The Gang React to You Petting Their Hair
Lucifer
"I am only going to say this once: stop."
You get one warning. One. If you do not cease and desist, he is throwing you out of his study, so help him Diavolo's Dad. No, he does not like it. No, not even a little bit. You really aren't going to stop? You're just a glutton for punishment, aren't you?
....You're very lucky he's too busy to hurl you bodily from this room. He'll just endure it for now.
Mammon
"Hah?! What's the big idea?! This is the revered hair of THE Great Mammon, I'll have you know. So that'll be 100 Grimm a touch, thanks! ....Hey, no, wait, why'd you stop?"
Once he's done turning bright red and clearing his throat, he'll try to capitalize on this whim of yours by offering you a discount on hair touches. A very poorly-planned scheme, because you're not going to pay to do something he'll start begging you to keep up as soon as you stop.
Oh, so Mammon is willing to let you touch his high-value hair for free? You're so honored. What a good boy you are, Mammon. (You can expect a bit more sputtering and some denials that he is anything like a good boy, but bro's into it big time. If he had a tail, it would be wagging.)
Leviathan
*shrieks in confused, touch-starved otaku*
Wait, no, he didn't say to stop! What's with these mixed signals? Petting his hair then stopping just because he shrieks a little bit? Did you want to touch his hair or not? Is it greasy? Oh god, when did he last bathe? ...It was only the other day. You have no reason to be disgusted. You're just a bigoted normie who assumes all otaku are crusty and gross!
Ahhhh?!?!?!?! Again?! Fine! Just don't change your mind again, because that's super confusing! And yeah, obviously he's blushing, you're petting his head and it feels nice and kind of tickles! ....Mm.... You know, once he's settled into it, it's really relaxing, actually...
Fast forward an hour or two and he's probably conked out with his head in your lap, drunk on affection and mostly asleep.
Satan
"What exactly do you think you're doing?"
It feels weird. Why are you doing that? Wait, you're petting him? Like he's....a cat? Hmm. Interesting. He'll allow it. But you should do it properly. None of this mussing his hair around with wild abandon. You have to be gentle and use small movements. Maybe use your knuckles? Gently though. There, that's it.
So this is what it feels like. Admittedly, he probably wouldn't take kindly to this if anybody else was doing it, no matter how well they imitated proper cat-petting technique. But you're a special exception, so in the future, if you feel the need to do this, just let him know. And for the love of all things unholy, don't breathe a word about this to his brothers.
Asmodeus
"Oh, you like my hair? Isn't it soft? I'll show you the conditioner I use."
Asmo loves having his hair played with! Or brushed, or combed, or tugged (just not too hard, please!) His hair is silky smooth thanks to a mixture of his natural good looks and his shampoo/conditioner combination. He'll let you borrow them if you're interested. Your hair will look amazing! And it'll feel even better!
This is cozy. He'll just settle in and let you do this as long as you want. Careful you don't get too handsy; he knows how irresistible he is.
...Well, maybe if you're a little handsy he'll let it slide, but just because it's you.
Beelzebub
"Are you....petting me?"
Kind of weird, but it feels nice, so he isn't complaining. It's a little bit embarrassing, just because it makes him feel a little bit like a puppy, but then again, who doesn't like puppies? He'll be able to continue to go about his day not minding you petting his hair now and again. The only awkward part is how damn tall he is. You might need to keep a step stool handy.
Belphegor
"Nnngh, knock it off...! ... ... ...I changed my mind, do it again."
His initial reaction to being woken up to you stroking his head is annoyance, because dammit, he was sleeping. But once he shakes the cobwebs out of his brain, he'll realize that it actually felt really good and he could absolutely fall asleep under these circumstances.
He'll wait a little while, hoping you'll give it another try of your own accord, but if you don't, he'll eventually cave and grumpily ask you to do it again.
Diavolo
"Hahaha... That's enough, now."
He isn't actually a fan. Maybe it's the fact that he's a prince and has been acting as an autocrat more or less for centuries, but being stroked like an adored pet feels really degrading. Of course, he won't hold it against you, but seriously, stop.
Barbatos
"Are you finished playing around quite yet?"
Another one who isn't into this at all. He's more than happy to spend his free time petting you, if that's what you're interested in, but he is a petter, not a pettee. Read into this what you will.
Solomon
"You're so forward!"
Solomon likes it very much. Too much, possibly. Are you flirting with him? There's something incredibly intimate about touching someone's hair, don't you think? No, please, continue.
Simeon
"Um, what are you doing? ...As long as you're enjoying yourself, I guess!"
Simeon is more bewildered by this than most. Like, are you trying to scratch an itch for him? Is this one of those "viral memes" he's heard so much about? Well, it feels nice, and it isn't as if it's hurting anybody. He'll indulge you for now.
A little to your left, please. Ahhhh, that's the spot...
Luke
"Hehe, that tickles... Hey! Is this a Chihuahua joke?!"
It feels kind of nice, but as soon as he takes a second to think about it, he realizes that you're treating him at best like a little kid, and at worst, like a dog, and he isn't having any of that. He'll scold you for treating a Celestial being so casually, remind you that he's actually a lot older than you, technically, so who's the real baby, and secretly pine for more pets for the rest of his life.
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awearywritersworld · 10 months
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i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you
sukuna x reader summary: you and sukuna go out for a late night meal. gojo finds out about your... relationship. sukuna is forced to take care of you when you come home drunk. w/c: 2.85k tags/warnings: enemies to lovers. fluff. lots of banter. cursing. jealous/protective!sukuna. gojo being a flirt. aged up!yuuji. features a teeny bit of yuuji x reader. drinking and drunk!reader. not canon compliant. fem!reader. no use of y/n. no manga spoilers. a/n: i think i like how this turned out! also, the first two sections could def be read as a fluffy lil stand alone. idc whats happening in the canonverse, sukunas just a tsundere who adores us very much<3 series masterlist // masterlist
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"maybe if you stare long enough, food will magically appear," sukuna calls to you from the kitchen table.
"this is no joking matter," you scold from your place in front of the fridge. "i'm starving."
"well, here's an absurd idea— let's go eat."
you turn toward him, finally closing the fridge, and tilt your head to the side. "you eat?"
"of course." he leans back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. "i typically prefer babies, but hell, i'd even go for an old man right now. i'm famished."
your eyes widen and your mouth falls open. he lets the panic simmer on your face for a few more cruel moments. "i'm kidding, idiot. i eat food, same as you."
"i knew that," you assert. the way your shoulders sag in relief tells him otherwise.
"right," he smirks. after standing up, he grabs your purse and tosses it in your direction. "where to? you're buying."
with only so many places open at midnight, you begin your journey to a 24 hour ramen shop.
you've hardly interacted with sukuna outside of your apartment, so this is certainly an experience you didn't anticipate. and in fact, you're shocked at how normal it feels— almost as if it's a date.
as you walk down the street, people eye him suspiciously because of the dark lines they assume are tattoos. it doesn't bother you though, nor does the lateness of the hour. you know that you're safe because you're with him.
your hands keep brushing against one another's, and you're hoping that he'll eventually take a hint and reach for yours. he doesn't (i mean come on, do you even know who you're dealing with?).
he does at least pick up on your pouty expression with impressive ease. "what now?"
"nothing," you huff.
"don't be a brat."
you sigh dramatically. "you're supposed to hold my hand."
"sure princess," he says condescendingly, lacing his fingers through yours. "maybe use your words next time like a big girl."
he doesn't fail to notice the ensuing skip in your step, and he kicks himself for regarding it as cute.
when you arrive at the ramen shop, sukuna orders no less than three bowls, which earns him a glare once the waitress walks away.
"when i agreed to pay, i didn't know what a glutton you are."
"oh yeah? cause i'm just the picture of temperance any other time?"
you scoff. "well you've got me there."
a sly smirk settles onto his face before he speaks again. "maybe one day you'll learn how greedy i am when it comes to the things i've deemed pleasurable."
you choke on the water you'd just brought to your lips, your face heating up as if it'd been bathed by fire.
wiping at your mouth, you try your best to recover quickly. "whatever, you hellion. as long as that doesn't involve a fourth bowl of ramen."
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you're no more than 10 steps away from the shop when you hold out your hand to him. "ahem."
he grabs it roughly and not without rolling his eyes.
"what?" you ask innocently. "that was a word."
"hardly," he jeers. "for as much as you read, i'd expect you to be more fluent than a child."
"and at 1000 years old, i'd expect you to be more charming than a teenage boy, but i guess we're both making concessions."
"see, this is the part that puzzles me. you never seem to have trouble with your words when you're being insolent."
"maybe it's a sign," you begin whimsically. "the universe decided you need to be taken down a peg."
"ah, yes. you as the executor of the universe's will. i don't know why i couldn't see it before."
you giggle, rather delighted that he's elected to play along with your quips. there's something that feels so warm and pleasant about it.
as you wonder if he feels it too, your hand tightens around his.
you're not quite ready to head back to your apartment just yet, because you're scared you'll lose the atmosphere surrounding the two of you. in truth, it's a bit intoxicating.
the perfect opportunity arises when you spot a small park up ahead. lights are strung around the trees, all of which are situated around a small fountain.
"we should stop at that park!" you hardly finish speaking before you take off in that direction, tugging him along behind you.
after you plop down on the fountain's ledge, sukuna takes his place beside you.
"let's sit here for a little while."
he doesn't respond and you take his silence as agreement. he's not really one to stifle his grievances.
as the minutes pass, the rush of the fountain is the only noise that fills the air, while you gaze at the trees with a serene expression.
sukuna, however, is looking at you. the only care he has for the trees is the way their lights reflect in your eyes. otherwise, he's fully occupied by the curve of your nose and the fullness of your lips.
"isn't this pretty?" you finally ask.
"it's pretty," he agrees, even when such a soft word feels foreign on his tongue.
his eyes still haven't left you, and you seem to be oblivious to this fact until he reaches up to stroke your cheek with the back of fingers.
when your gaze lands on him, the fondness written all over his face catches you off guard and you realize how close the both of you are. without really thinking about it, you lean into his touch.
"very pretty," he repeats lowly, as if he's talking to himself.
your heart lurches once in your chest, then hammers away at your ribcage without respite. he leans toward you a fraction of an inch, his eyes flicking down to your lips for a brief second.
truthfully, sukuna has never felt the way he does in this moment. it's a sincere sort of desire. he doesn't want the mindless devotion he once thirsted for from his followers. and he doesn't want the sex he used to crave from his concubines.
no. he just wants you— in whatever capacity you're willing to have him.
the way he's looking at you is just too much. there's a dull thudding in your ears and you swear your thoughts are moving at a million miles a minute.
so naturally, you blurt out the first thing you can manage. "we should take a selfie!"
his face shifts from whatever that expression was to one of confusion. "take a selfie?"
some twisted mix of relief and disappointment crashes through you.
"yeah, a selfie. a picture together. ya know, since the park is so pretty," you ramble.
he pulls away from you. not all the way, but enough that it gives you space to finally breath. he chuckles and it doesn't sound lofty like it so often does. in fact, he seems genuinely amused by you.
"a selfie," he deliberates. "that sounds great, but to the best of my knowledge, hell hasn't frozen over."
and just like that, your dynamic feels like it did during your walk from the ramen shop to the park— comfortable and fun.
"well i guess you would be one of the first to know."
ignoring his protests, you take out your phone and hold it far enough away that the camera captures both of your faces. you can see on the screen that he's put on an expression of complete boredom.
"c'mon," you nudge him with your elbow. "you look like you hate me."
the corner of his mouth curves upward. "that's because i do."
you think back on the way he was gazing at you just moments ago and laugh. "you're so full of shit."
then, without warning, you press a kiss to his cheek and click the button.
you decide that his vague look of contented surprise will just have to do.
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when you and yuuji walk into the bar, you immediately spot one of the people you're there to meet. he's sitting at a hightop by himself, his snow white hair pretty hard to miss.
you tap his shoulder and his face breaks out into a grin. he slides out of the barstool. "if it isn't my favorite civilian!"
as he pulls you into a hug, you wonder if he's ever going to get tired of that joke. "if it isn't my favorite old man."
"35 is not old," he argues, moving to greet yuuji. "i'm still in the summer of my life, thank you very much!"
"gojo you're 36," the pink haired man remarks.
"gah! such betrayal, yuuji!" he presses his hand to his forehead and takes a deep breath. "now i'm going to need another round."
"i'll go and get drinks for all of us," you offer. "you two stay here so no one takes the table."
before either of them can respond, you turn and begin making your way through the crowd. you don't hear gojo when he calls out, "but darling! i should go with you!"
he takes a step in your direction, but stops when sukuna's mouth appears on yuuji's cheek. "you certainly should not, you insufferable half wit."
"relax, dude. he flirts with literally everyone," yuuji informs him.
gojo scoffs. "i am right here—"
"as if that makes it better?" sukuna barks. "she isn't some toy to be played with."
"of course she isn't! you can't honestly think i'd believe otherwise."
gojo is left forgotten for a moment as the other two bicker, so he interjects once there's a lull in the conversation. "do either of you care to explain what the hell is going on?"
yuuji turns toward him, trying and failing to hide the embarrassment on his face once he realizes that gojo is, in fact, still standing there.
his eyebrows are raised above his sunglasses and it's clear he is inappropriately amused by the situation (what else is new?). he moves to sit across from the younger man, looking at him expectantly.
having no way to talk himself out of this, yuuji relays the recent events regarding you and sukuna, sparing some of the finer details. gojo's face doesn't really betray much emotion throughout the story, though he does look thoughtful by the end of it.
leaning forward, he crosses his arms on top of the table. "maybe your feelings for her are influencing his own, forcing a sort of bond between them?"
"i don't think so," yuuji contends honestly. "other than her, you're the person i admire and respect the most, but he thinks—"
"that you are perhaps the most imbecilic rampallion i've ever had the displeasure of coming across."
gojo jerks back, as if the insult had hit him squarely in the jaw. the look of giddiness from yuuji's compliment, followed by the shift to indignation at sukuna's insult is almost comical.
he stretches his neck forward, cupping his hand around one side of his mouth as if it'd keep sukuna from hearing. "what'd he just call me?"
yuuji shrugs. "beats me, but i don't think he was singing your praises."
"i see your point." gojo pauses, glancing over his shoulder. you're approaching the table, so he turns back to yuuji and quickly adds, "we'll talk more about this another time, but for now, keep this between us."
a few moments later, you appear in front of them and exclaim, "look who i found!"
megumi and inumaki situate themselves around the table too, offering their greetings. you slide yuuji and gojo their drinks, both of which are filled to the brim of the glass. "now then gentlemen, shall we?"
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when gojo teleports you and yuuji back to your apartment that night, it takes everything in you to keep from yakking all over your carpet.
"ta ta, hooligans!"
you turn to request that he never do that again, but he's already gone. taking one step forward, you promptly fall on your ass in the entryway with an unforgiving thud. yuuji staggers toward the couch, making it there just in time to face plant into the cushions.
looking down toward your shoes, you're dismayed to find that each one appears to have two sets of laces. you're fumbling with them determinedly when someone crouches down in front of you, their elbows resting on their thighs.
he doesn't say a word. brushing your hands away, he unties your shoes and carefully pulls them off your feet. you're lifted from the floor before you can register the arm that's looped under your knees or the other that's securely around your back.
"careful," you hiccup, your head falling into the crook of his neck. "'m gunna p-puke."
"i'd rather you didn't."
you groan. "s'not like i 'ave a choice in the matter."
he hums. "how much did you drink?"
"dunno. sss'much. nobara—" you hiccup again. "nobara n' maki made me."
he chuckles, placing you down on what you figure is your bed. "right, i'm sure you had no choice in the matter."
"tha's correct, yes."
unbuttoning your jeans, he tugs upward on your belt loops. "lift."
you do as he says, lifting your hips from the bed so he can slide your jeans off your legs. he knows you won't remember this— hell, your eyes are already closed— but he looks away as he does it anyway.
pulling your phone from your pocket and putting it on the charger, your pants are discarded off to the side. he only turns his head back in your direction once he's pulled the blankets up over your body.
"tuck me in?" you request.
sitting down on the bed beside you, he does so without protest.
he stares at you for a little while, worried about how poorly you're probably going to feel in the morning. he presses a kiss to your forehead, intending to get up and grab a water bottle for your nightstand.
instead, his body freezes when he hears you mumble, "i love you s'much."
his heart clenches so painfully, he honestly considers ripping it from his chest— it would probably be less agonizing.
but a thought that makes him feel like a fool occurs to him. of course it's not him that you love. "i'm not yuuji."
"well, duuuhhh. you're s'kuna." you're peering up at him through tired, hazy eyes. it's the first time you've ever seen him look bewildered, so a small giggle erupts from your throat. "s'okay. you don't 'ave t'say it back."
your eyes flutter shut and your breathing evens out before he even thinks to respond. all at once, it's as if his head is empty and as if it's about to explode.
love?
what does he know about love? it's a sentiment he's cursed for so long, but sitting here beside you, he can't quite seem to remember why. one thing he is sure of, however, is that there's never been a thing in the world he's loved.
suddenly, he's struck with remembrance of a quote from jane eyre you had emphasized with messy underlines:
"after a youth and manhood passed half in unutterable misery and half in dreary solitude, i have for the first time found what i can truly love—i have found you. you are my sympathy—my better self—my good angel. i am bound to you with a strong attachment. i think you good, gifted, lovely: a fervent, a solemn passion is conceived in my heart; it leans to you, draws you to my centre and spring of life, wraps my existence about you, and, kindling in pure, powerful flame, fuses you and me in one."
rochester says it as he begs jane to stay at thornfield with him, an act sukuna had previously regarded as ridiculous, but is that still the case?
were you to ever scorn him, would he fall to his knees and plead with you to change your mind? or if you were in danger of dying, would he drag himself to a shrine and pray to the gods he doesn't believe in?
is that what love is?
could he stand to be apart from you? are you special to him? does anything else in the world compare to you? does he seek out your company? is he consumed by you? can he know himself without knowing you?
does the definition of love lie in those questions?
sukuna hopes not, because he's terrified of the answers. being in love is not his way, nor is it in his nature.
he buries his face in his hands as realization settles into his bones. it feels as if they're splintering beneath the pressure, trying resentfully to stave it off.
he transcends any imaginable scale of power. he's bled entire villages dry, he's commandeered death, he's the king of curses.
so why now? and why you? is it divine retribution? a sick sort of joke that even he couldn't have dreamed up?
gods, you were right. the universe has sent you to carry out its will and he's completely powerless to stop it.
the worst part of it all? he doesn't want to.
taglist: @96jnie @ay0nha @sad-darksoul @bbysatoruuu @luciiferian @thepup356 @risuola *users in bold could not be tagged
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mcondance · 3 months
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soft kisses on some fat lips feat. ☆ aaron hotchner
☆ insp. by desert eagle by beyoncé
MDNI 18+ fem reader, oral (f. receiving, hotch is hungry asl)
☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆
unfortunately i’ve been thinking about hotch tearing the pussy up like dinner and this song hasn’t made it much better.
aaron’s gentle. he lays you down, spends forever kissing the lips on your face before he gets to the others.
“you’re so pretty, gorgeous,” he tells you, redundancy be damned. adjectives become petnames when you’re with him, gorgeous becomes less of a compliment and more of a fact. the word sounds so sweet coming from his mouth, as it does when he’s calling you to come look at something or whatever other menial situation you two are in.
there’s kisses on your face, graced over the swell of your cheek. and kisses down your neck, with a little bit of teeth how you like it, marks destined to show up tomorrow being made here and now. there’s kisses across your collarbone, praise turned into touch every time his lips meet your skin and re-introduce themselves as insanity and bliss combined. then they move down your chest— and, forgive him, they veer from their path downward. his mouth’s wrapped around one tit, then the other, and your nipples are hard and aching and thank fuck for his gentle fingers pinching and rolling the peak he’s not having his fun biting and sucking with.
he’s forgiven, sincerely and earnestly, because his tongue works miracles and you distantly recall that article you saw about people being able to cum just from having their nipples sucked.
you put that test in the basket for another day as his wild eyes find yours and his gps finally reroutes. down, just a little more, and he’s finally reached his paradise.
you drip even more on the forsaken sheets as he pulls your panties down your trembling legs, deft fingers looking ridiculously good handling the fabric. the wet fabric.
you’re wetter, though. explicably so.
then, his lips place that damning kiss. your hips jump and you let out a crooning whine. he looks so pretty kissing you, and you’re so keyed up by him that every single thing he does to you drives you crazy.
soft kisses is how he eats you up. gluttonous licks and starved sucks like he’s never tasted you before. he acts a fool, throwing breathing to the wind, waving shyness farewell, and good riddance.
he wraps his strong arms under and over your thighs, pulling you further onto his tongue as you pushpull at his head with welcoming legs thrown over his broad shoulders.
aaron’s greedy. one day you’ll record his moans, the sounds he makes are so pretty and wonton and free and they make you feel good. he makes you feel good. aaron’s moaning between your legs like a whore and he’s not being pleasured in any way. though you know for a fact that this, giving kisses to your slick cunt, is beyond pleasure to him.
when you get full of his pleasure and half-heartedly push him away, he does his job. his kisses get firmer, hungrier, nastier, and his grip around your thighs gets tighter as he dives further into you. “close” is redefined with how close he gets to you. that nose digs into your clit when his lips move further down, his tongue exploring silk walls that clench and pulse as he enters them. your sounds meet his ears and leave them dusted red, like his face and the hot blood pumping through both of your veins.
and you come, god you come. he’s finally fucking broken you, though you swear he did that when he first wrapped his lips around your tit. no matter, he’ll redefine what that means too as he eats you until you’re done creaming and dripping on his tongue and your clit pangs with a climax so sweet. aftershocks rumble through you and waves still cresting crash. he’s there, eagerly doing cleanup, debating (barely) on whether he should dive back in.
he does. he’s high like a sugar rush.
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xoprincess-elsie · 8 months
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Starving??? Have you seen that big belly, baby girl? I don’t know if you’d be starving any time soon, little porky one. But, I’m not one to leave a hungry little glutton with an empty tummy…
Starvinggg absolutely wastin away 😩😭!! I only had a breakfast sandwich n chocolate so far that’s not enoughhh! My big belly needs more 🥺🙈🐷
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