#karma seal

[instructionsonback]

INKED FATE

6” x 9”

By

Jaevonn Harris

[freshthoughts2020]

INKED FATE

6” x 9”

By

Jaevonn Harris

[azaracyy]

a lesson on good karma digimon survive week 2024 day 4: supporting characters

[m-kyunie]

the "First Womb" of the Thirds

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

i am more scared of hunter!sugu tbh if only because he is so . deeply mentally unstable and gross in the way he infantilizes you but at least he can be killed. you know . kitsune!geto stays with u even after death

[exotic-dinostuff]

Karma

Karma is a leopard seal with ears and a lava lamp belly, I made Karma wayyyyy back in 2019 before the pandemic started and Karma's appearances changed throughout the apocalypse, and now he sets on this look

Also fun fact he used to be green, and he had blue hair, he looked like a my little pony character dunked in acid

Karma is a bioluminescent monster (like dino) so I chose the lava lamp to base him off of because the bioluminescent monsters in his universe have a limit to how much light they can produce, Karma's species (lantern seals) however don't have a limit, very few species don't have limits example-the smothriums (bull/hell horses) and the kerukies (frilled dinosaur beast)they don't have a limit because they use it as defense mechanism

[puhpandas]

one thing about movie William is that the killing machines he made didnt kill his kids, but himself

[scentedinksandwhackedseals]

(to the tune of my kink is karma) 🎶going back to school/on a tuesday/god this fucking sucks/but i’m ok🎶

[talentforlying]

so there was that one uquiz i did where it decided that constantine's symphony was 'the nocturne' and i just realized during my reread earlier that the volume of sandman in which constantine's story shows up is called 'preludes & nocturnes'......i'm unwell

[jbfly46]

Someone had to do it sometime, and now there is a trail to follow.

[ludicrouscheeseburger]

I am watching The Terror for the first time right now and every night I look forward to watching my “The arrogant white imperialist men get what’s coming to them” show! It’s so funny to me that they’re starving and dying like they’re in the vacuum of space or under water, a completely inhospitable alien unsurvivable environment… when meanwhile there’s literally MULTIPLE cultures of people who have successfully lived in that exact biome for literally thousands of years. This “place that wants us dead” is called “home” by these people! They have kids and marriages and celebrations and all kinds of normal human life things. But no, these honkies gotta poison themselves and starve simultaneously, kill and murder and cannibalize, because they insist on doing things the English way - the “civilized” way. And not only does it make THEM the savages, but ultimately it makes them monsters. Delicious hubris and karma!!!

And then… knowing that “for more than a hundred years, the final resting place of the ships was a mystery!” Until some cunning researchers cracked the case by… asking the locals. Who, it turns out, have known for generations, literally the whole time, and had even told the first “rescue missions”, and had, of course, not been believed. Just, at every turn, from “should we come here?” to “how do we survive now that we’re here?” to “where did our doomed wannabe explorers go?”, the answers were always “listen to the original locals”, and at every turn the brits were like “lol nope. Those people are UNCIVILIZED. We’d much rather eat each other!”

Add to that the fact that this was all done in pursuit of glory and the fabled northwest passage, which really does exist and yet is NOT a major shipping lane because it’s so difficult to reach that it doesn’t save any time… the locals didn’t use it to travel, they LIVED there, because it’s not a convenient shortcut, it’s a place of its own. Nature and geography don’t exist for the explicit purpose of fulfilling an empire’s desires. And treating nature as something to be subjugated sets you up to get your ass handed to you. Not listening to the people who have figured out how to live and coexist with it for untold generations sets you up for horrific consequences - it’s nice when those consequences land upon those who transgressed, instead of their children or grandchildren or bystanders.

So yeah I’m watching The Terror but experiencing it much more as schadenfreude than as horror, drama, or tragedy… sitting here knitting and whenever the spirit monster eats or dismembers another invader, I just nod and go:

https://nationalpost.com/news/canada/theyre-not-human-how-19th-century-inuit-coped-with-a-real-life-invasion-of-the-walking-dead

Indigenous groups across the Americas had all encountered Europeans differently. But where other coastal groups such as the Haida or the Mi’kmaq had met white men who were well-fed and well-dressed, the Inuit frequently encountered their future colonizers as small parties on the edge of death.

“I’m sure it terrified people,” said Eber, 91, speaking to the National Post by phone from her Toronto home.

And it’s why, as many as six generations after the events of the Franklin Expedition, Eber was meeting Inuit still raised on stories of the two giant ships that came to the Arctic and discharged columns of death onto the ice.

Inuit nomads had come across streams of men that “didn’t seem to be right.” Maddened by scurvy, botulism or desperation, they were raving in a language the Inuit couldn’t understand. In one case, hunters came across two Franklin Expedition survivors who had been sleeping for days in the hollowed-out corpses of seals.

“They were unrecognizable they were so dirty,” Lena Kingmiatook, a resident of Taloyoak, told Eber.

Mark Tootiak, a stepson of Nicholas Qayutinuaq, related a story to Eber of a group of Inuit who had an early encounter with a small and “hairy” group of Franklin Expedition men evacuating south.

“Later … these Inuit heard that people had seen more white people, a lot more white people, dying,” he said. “They were seen carrying human meat.”

Even Eber’s translator, the late Tommy Anguttitauruq, recounted a goose hunting trip in which he had stumbled upon a Franklin Expedition skeleton still carrying a clay pipe.

By 1850, coves and beaches around King William Island were littered with the disturbing remnants of their advance: Scraps of clothing and camps still littered with their dead occupants. Decades later, researchers would confirm the Inuit accounts of cannibalism when they found bleached human bones with their flesh hacked clean.

“I’ve never in all my life seen any kind of spirit — I’ve heard the sounds they make, but I’ve never seen them with my own eyes,” said the old man who had gone out to investigate the Franklin survivors who had straggled into his camp that day on King William Island.

The figures’ skin was cold but it was not “cold as a fish,” concluded the man. Therefore, he reasoned, they were probably alive.

“They were beings but not Inuit,” he said, according to the account by shaman Nicholas Qayutinuaq.

The figures were too weak to be dangerous, so Inuit women tried to comfort the strangers by inviting them into their igloo.

But close contact only increased their alienness: The men were timid, untalkative and — despite their obvious starvation — they refused to eat.

The men spit out pieces of cooked seal offered to them. They rejected offers of soup. They grabbed jealous hold of their belongings when the Inuit offered to trade.

When the Inuit men returned to the camp from their hunt, they constructed an igloo for the strangers, built them a fire and even outfitted the shelter with three whole seals.

Then, after the white men had gone to sleep, the Inuit quickly packed up their belongings and fled by moonlight.

Whether the pale-skinned visitors were qallunaat or “Indians” — the group determined that staying too long around these “strange people” with iron knives could get them all killed.

“That night they got all their belongings together and took off towards the southwest,” Qayutinuaq told Dorothy Eber.

But the true horror of the encounter wouldn’t be revealed until several months later.

The Inuit had left in such a hurry that they had abandoned several belongings. When a small party went back to the camp to retrieve them, they found an igloo filled with corpses.

The seals were untouched. Instead, the men had eaten each other.

[tonycries]

One More? Please? - G.S.

Synopsis. A kiss always solves everything! But when a kiss turns into something more…well, it’s only a desperate attempt to unseal yourselves from this damned prison realm, right? Right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, coworkers to lovers, being stuck in that damn box, oral (female), mutual másturbation, spitting, fáce-sítting, máting press, Satoru is down bad for you, chóking, overstim, multiple rounds, créampie, pet names (sweetheart), swearing.

Word count. 4.4k

A/N. Happy belated two months to this blog! Concept inspired by this post by @kingkonoha.

“Maybe we should kiss and see if the box opens?”

“That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

“Hey- it works in the movies! True love’s kiss and all-”

You heave out a heavy sigh that makes even the skeleton at your shoulder shake its head in pity. Goddamn, if these curses weren’t going to kill him then you will. 

“I take it back. That’s the dumbest fucking thing to ever come out of your mouth.”

Satoru hooks a thumb over his blindfold to gaze at you with mock seriousness. Oh, how the mighty have fallen - and how you were teetering dangerously close to a stroke with each dramatic bat of his long lashes.

“C’monnn~” he whines, with the flair of someone that was not sealed in an inescapable prison, “Don’t tell me that in all these years you’ve never once been at least a little tempted to kiss me, sweetheart.” 

“I’d rather kiss that dusty skull.” Shooting him a pointed look that makes even the skulls at your feet recoil. It would almost be hilarious if it wasn’t for the fact that you were trapped. In the prison realm. With Gojo Satoru of all people. Possibly forever.

Shit, is this karma for all those times you ditched Satoru with Nanami instead of dealing with him yourself?

Now, Satoru might be going about it with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but just a few minutes ago when his life flashed before his very eyes at the mere sight of Suguru - or at least, the monster wearing his body - he’d expected some of his favorite memories to be the ones with you in it. 

You - his lil’ coworker - in all your gorgeous, smart-mouthed glory. And maybe if he was lucky, he even expected a couple glimpses of you in his future. Preferably with a giant rock on your finger.

But that’s a story for another time, what he certainly did not expect was for your stupidly heroic (and quite beautiful) ass to jump right in the middle of the prison realm’s ensnarement. 

Although, honestly, right now he doesn’t think he’d want to be locked up in here with anyone but you - and that withering glare you send him. 

Undeterred, Satoru has the audacity to throw his head back and laugh. Laugh. A sound you’ve come to realize over the years, as innocent as it sounds, does not bode well for you or your sanity. 

A sanity that’s been slowly dwindling since your first day of meeting Satoru. Back then, a brash, cocky new teacher that waltzed into the halls of Jujutsu Tech in those pretentious sunglasses like he owned the place. 

Well, not that he was any different right now. Lounging over some disgruntled skeletons, you half-expected him to pull out a deck chair and start sunbathing amidst the bones. Your begrudging coworker - and occasional bane of your existence - seemed right at home. 

You, however, were decidedly not having the time of your life. 

“I swear, you’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” you grumble, wincing at the bones prodding you from almost every angle. 

“Can you blame me?” he hums, now fully tugging down his blindfold to hang around his neck, “It’s not every day I get to spend quality time with my favorite person in the world.”

You scoff, strangely self-conscious as those striking blue sweep your figure from head to toe. “Lucky me. Well why don’t you spend this quality time helping me figure out how the hell we can get out of here.”

“I already told y-”

“Anything but that.”

With a sulky huff, Satoru peers down at you, “Then we just wait till someone gets us out of here. I’m sure Megumi-chan is just tearing his emo hair out trying to unseal this thing.”

“...”

“You’re absolutely correct, Yuji then. Or…” he tilts his head towards a sad pile of bones, “We end up like our little friend over there. Though I’d make a far better looking skeleton-”

You don’t hear the rest of Satoru’s rant over the small noise of concern that falls from your lips. Something hot and prickly pooling in your stomach at the fact that yes you really were stuck in the prison realm with Gojo Satoru. Possibly forever. And no this wasn’t some strange dream like when you and Shoko accidentally raided the wrong brownie box in the kitchen.

Shit. 

And perhaps it showed on your face, because you’re jolted out of your reverie by warm fingers intertwining with yours. Grounding. Satoru’s eyes now searching yours with an intensity that made you squirm uncomfortably. 

“Hey, we’ll figure this out, okay?” he mutters softly. “Remember that time we accidentally set the training ground on fire?” leaning in closer now, “Or that mission we got chased by that cursed vending machine?”

You roll your eyes, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of your lips despite yourself. “Yeah, and then you nearly got us killed trying to order a sweet tea. ”

Satoru chuckles, squeezing your hand reassuringly. “See? It worked out, didn’t it? It always does, sweetheart.” 

And if your heart does a strange little lurch, well, then you just blame it on the femur jabbing into your side. 

All is quiet in your little hell. That is, until.

“Hey, Satoru…does kissing really work in the movies?” 

You barely catch the way Satoru’s breath hitches ever-so-slightly as he leans in closer. eyes sparkling with mischief. And oh you knew that look - one that was usually accompanied by a lecture by Yaga, one that sent shivers down your spine. He grins, “Well, there’s only one way to find out, hm?”

Embarrassment and amusement bubbles inside you, tumbling out in the form of a barely-audible, “A peck. One.”

“Awww. Eight?”’

“No.”

“Five?”

“Satoru.”

Minty breath fanning your face, “Okay okay, one peck and a kiss to your forehead. C’mon, it’s a bargain~”

Pinching your nose, you sigh out a weary, “This is so stupid. Fine, but if it doesn’t work then I’m strangling you.”

And it’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.  

Soft. Satoru’s lips were so soft. And he tasted so unfairly of caramel apples and sweet, sweet mischief. Just like him. Feather-light and fleeting - yet the kiss burns into your brain with an intensity that you strangely didn’t mind.

It’s over before you know it. The cold air hits your lips as Satoru’s words ring in your ears, a disappointed little, “Aw, that didn’t work.”

Barely even risking a glance at the still very sealed realm, your body reacts before your mind - the expensive cotton of his uniform collar soft against your fingers as you pull Satoru towards you with a sense of urgency you can’t quite explain.

And then you’re kissing him. And he’s kissing you because shit this is all that Satoru’s been dreaming about since he turned 23 and suddenly realized that oh you were frighteningly everything that he ever wanted. 

“S-Satoru,” you whisper, breathless against his lips. 

“Shhhh, my girl. One more. Didn’t work.” 

His lips are searing on yours. Urgent and greedy, because fuck if it took getting trapped in the prison realm to finally kiss you then God knows when he’ll be able to again. 

Which is why he breathes you in like he doesn’t have enough time, and probably never will - even in this godforsaken box where time never passes. 

“Shit. O-one more.”

Drinking in your sweet gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours, tasting how sinfully delicious you were. Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body, cupping your head to kiss you deeper, snaking down to squeeze your ass - and everything in between. 

Pulling away ever-so-slightly with a playful bite to your bottom lip, he leaves a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. The disappointed whine that leaves your pretty mouth makes all the blood in Satoru’s body rush to his cock. 

“Sweetheart.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, lips ghosting over your racing pulse. “Y’think I kissed the wrong lips?”

Oh? 

Satoru’s words send a jolt of electricity running down your spine - all the way down to your heated cunt. “W-what?” you managed to choke out, cheeks flaring as he raises his eyes to meet yours and-

Oh.

Oh, shit. If the curses weren’t going to kill you then Satoru sure might. 

You’re snapped out of your thoughts by Satoru carefully jostling the two of you so that he’s lying on his back, your body manhandled to straddle his pretty face. 

“Satoru, when you mean ‘wrong lips’...here?” you trail off, still reeling from him and the abrupt change in position and him. 

“Exactly what I mean,” he chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating beneath your dripping cunt. “Now, spread ‘em wider f’me. Let me taste you- Need it s’bad.”

Body moving as if on autopilot, your knees part wider to let him greedily take in the sight of your soaked panties. Beads of slick seeping through the thin fabric each time his hot breath meets your cunt. 

But not for long - the cool air hits you before you realize what’s happening. Because Satoru is ripping your flimsy panties off with one hand. Throwing it behind to God-knows-where with the urgency of a madman. 

“Shit, so wet f’me already.” he groans, mouth watering at the obscene sight of you clenching around nothing. “S’gorgeous. You really are perfect everywhere, huh?” he mutters through lazy, languid kisses along your thighs. Tongue darting out just so to leisurely trace circles along the heated skin. 

Strong arms wrap around your thighs, the stretch nothing with the two long fingers spreading your swollen folds apart. Your face burns from just how adoring Satoru looks below you.

You buck into his touch, “Hngh- Please. Wan’ your mouth on me.”

And perhaps the great Gojo Satoru decided to be merciful for once in his life, because without another word, he’s surging forward. Tongue flicking out to tease your sloppy entrance, pooling your juices before tipping his head back, back, back to let it slide down his throat so sinfully.

Shit, Satoru could just cum in his pants right now, of course you taste heavenly. Better than he could’ve ever imagined on any lonely night. 

You shudder as he flattens his tongue across your folds, sliding teasingly between them, grazing your swollen clit just barely at an unhurried rhythm that almost has Satoru forgetting where he was. But quite frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either.

“This what you wanted, sweetheart?” he hums around your clit, the vibrations making you squeal. Sucking gently, tongue rolling harshly against your bundle of nerves, over and over- “Cause it’s what I’ve been wanting for years.”

The words ring in your ears almost as much as the lewd squelches below. Years?

“F-fuck- feels hngh- What do you mean y-years, Satoru?” 

Oh, Satoru thinks he could pass out just at the way you whine out his name so prettily. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, a hand hastily snaking down to unbuckle his pants. “Mhmm~ Couldn’t go a day without sparring with you where I didn’t think of bending you over and tasting you right there y’know.”

Your eyes snap down to meet Satoru’s hazy, half-lidded ones. Something dark and feral shining within them. And right now, thighs wrapped around his head, you don’t think he’s ever looked happier. White locks splayed out, a fucked-out expression on his face as his tongue bullies past your folds, you could feel the slight smile curling his lips against you. 

It’s overwhelming - both his confession and the way Satoru was making out with your cunt like a man starved.

Nose-deep in your pussy, tongue alternating between its abuse on your throbbing clit and dipping in and out of your sloppy hole at a maddening pace. Mouth only speeding up ruthlessly at the way you convulse and grind involuntarily on top of him.

God, Satoru was going insane at the way your walls were sucking him up so good, clamping down with each push of his tongue. 

“Shit- made jus’ f’me. You like that, don’t you?” he growls against your cunt, voice hoarse with desire. “Like fucking my face with your pussy?”

“Oh! Ngh, yes Satoru- L-love it-”

A bruising grip on your hips, encouraging you to rock against his face. Harder. Tongue more desperate. He couldn’t get enough. Meeting your every grind, tongue lapping at your cunt so obscenely. 

Breaths ragged and hot against your cunt, drinking you in with the desperation of a man that wouldn’t mind giving up air for your essence. And it was Satoru - of course he wouldn’t mind.

Especially with the large hand snaking up your thigh, going from drawing reassuring patterns at your hips to rubbing tight, little circles on your pulsing clit. Hasty, and urgent - like he had no time to waste. “Tha’s right, my girl. Give it up for me,”

Every cell in your body is on fire, every nerve ending singing with pleasure at the way Satoru plays your body like an instrument. 

“M’close, Satoru- Hah- s’close.” you moan breathlessly, a hand tangling in his soft strands. Using it as leverage to ride Satoru’s pretty face just the way you like it.

But you didn’t have to - because Satoru seems to already know exactly what to do. Exactly how to quirk his tongue just right to brush against all your most sensitive spots. Exactly how to match the rhythm of his abuse on your clit to the way he was tonguefucking you into delirium. Exactly how to look at you with such a hungry expression that devours you almost as much as his mouth. 

“Cum f’me, sweetheart.”

Satoru didn’t even have to ask. Because you’re cumming with a strangled gasp of his name. White-hot pleasure coursing through you like lightning, body trembling as you cum all over Satoru’s pretty face. 

Hands moving your limp, boneless hips across his face, forcing you to ride out peak after peak on his red lips.

As the blood roaring in your ears bates, and you blink back your vision, the first thing you see are those familiar blue eyes gazing up at you. Holding you steady, lips brushing gentle kisses along your inner thighs. 

Oh, how beautiful he was like this.

“S-S’toru?” you mewl, still sensitive from your orgasm as Satoru shifts underneath you to sit you prettily in his lap.

“Mhm?” he nuzzles your neck.

“One more. It didn’t work.”

Oh, if you knew the only way to shut up Gojo Satoru was to say something like this then you would’ve done it a lot sooner. 

But Satoru’s stunned silence doesn’t last for long, because he grins, low and sultry, “You’re right. It didn’t work.”

The metallic clinking of a belt echoes in the stuffy chamber as Satoru hastily pushes down his pants. Cock springing free to hit his lower abs, “What a shame.”

You blink at the sheer size of him - he was going to split you in two. It was unfair, really. Water is wet. Gojo Satoru has a big dick. 

But oh was he pretty - so pretty.  Prominent veins glistening in the dim lighting, fat tip flushed your favorite shade of delicate pink, leaking furiously in between your thighs.

Gulping, you reach out to wrap your hand around his achingly hard cock. So warm and heavy in your hands. “Y-yeah, what a shame.”

Both of you watch - entranced - at the way he twitches in your grasp at the mere sound of your voice. A maddening little bump! bump! bump! against your palm as you begin pumping him slowly - so agonizingly slow. 

“Oh- Feel s’good, sweetheart.” Satoru hisses lowly as you swipe at the precum beading at this head. Thumbing teasingly under his sensitive slit, tracing delicately along his veins. 

And by God does it do something to you to see the great Gojo Satoru falling apart for you, hair tousled, lips kiss-bitten, and eyes looking at you like he wanted to positively eat you alive. It made your cunt throb so desperately, slick forming a dark wet patch on his trousers. 

Not one to be left behind, his long fingers deftly snake down to your dripping cunt. Not wasting any time before bullying his fingertips past your swollen folds, curling expertly to press down against that one spot that has your fist faltering on his cock. Hard. 

Pretty little moans left your lips at the way Satoru so easily matches your pace. Thrusting knuckle-deep into your pussy in and out - hitting that spot over and over.

“Shit, Toru- s’deep inside me. I’m- hngh-”

Satoru was in heaven, really. You were so warm and wet around both his fingers and his throbbing cock. 

Only two thoughts running through his mind right now - 1. He was right, your hands were softer and more sinfully delicious around his swollen cock. And 2. The hardest battle he’s ever fought was probably right now - at your mercy, trying not to spill all over your hands because he’d be damned if he finally scored the girl and came in two seconds.

Shit, he thinks fingers almost erratic now, he needs you to cum. Right now. 

As if sensing his urgency, your moves become more frantic, Satoru’s brows furrowing at the way you increase your pace. His hips twitch, as if trying to thrust into your fist. matching your pace as you start stroking him harder, faster. 

Ah, but alas, the great Gojo Satoru’s reputation precedes him. 

“Oh, fuck- M’gonna-” And soon enough, you’re seeing stars behind your eyes - or maybe those were tears - as you cum. Hard. 

Body moving before your mind, you’re clenching around Satoru’s fingers, grinding down so ferally as you edge him closer and closer. “C’mon, Toru. One more, right?” you whisper brokenly, lips ghosting his ear.

Breath coming in short, strained gasps of what sounded like your name now, “Oh- fuck ngh- so close.” he warns, voice hoarse. “If you keep doing that, I won’t be responsible for what happens next.”

You smirk, raising a brow, “Is that a threat, Satoru?”

Willing his fucked-out eyes open, they bore into yours as he utters, “No, ah- it’s a p-promise.”

Without warning, Satoru clasps your wrists, forcing you to stop pumping him. The disappointed mewl threatening to spill from your lips is cut off just as your back hits the ground.

Slam!

You think you could almost get whiplash from how swiftly Satoru had you caged and splayed out so shamefully beneath him. 

You whine, “But you didn’t even get to-”

“Fuck, not now. Gotta feel you or else m’gonna cum so embarrassingly all over your fist.” He rests his throbbing erection laid out so enticingly across your stomach, leaking hot precum onto your skin. And that makes you shut up, eyes mapping where it ended and realizing that yeah, you might’ve faced more mercy with the curses outside of this box. “Besides. One more, right?”

And before you can respond, Satoru’s spitting on you once. Twice. Thrice.

You flinch as the wads of saliva hit your dripping cunt, mixing with your slick so obscenely as Satoru smears it across your swollen folds. Your mouth drops into a soft oh! of disbelief as he promptly pops his thumb into his mouth, groaning at the taste. 

“Shit.” Satoru hisses lowly, “One more might just not be enough.”

Not wasting a moment longer, he’s bullying his throbbing cock into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your plush walls desperately try to accommodate his size.

“Oh. Oh shit hah- should’ve been locked up here ngh- sooner.” he groans, words straight from his cock. “Feel s’heavenly around m-me.” Because God Satoru thinks he wouldn’t even mind staying here for the rest of his life if it meant he got to have you like this.

You moan at the positively delicious stretch of your pussy, plush walls unable to decide between pushing him out and milking the soul out of him. “Hah- Toru s’too big. I can’t-” 

“You will.” he grits out, teeth clenched and brows furrowed as he focuses on letting you adjust. Pressing inch by fucking inch. Eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fights that feral part of himself that just wants to plunge into your pretty pussy till his tip kisses your cervix, and you’re drunk on nothing but his cock.

But he didn’t have to - because you’re immediately wrapping your legs around his toned waist, pulling Satoru to you recklessly until his heavy balls smack your ass. Tufts of snowy white hair - already so wet with your slick and his precum - finally meeting your cunt.

“Ah! Shit, s’full Toru.” you keen, body bowing into his.

There’s not even a hair's breadth between your bodies now as Satoru chuckles darkly. “You little minx. Thought you couldn’t handle me, but you really wanted to be split apart on my cock, huh?”

You feel almost shy under his gaze as you mumble out a quiet little, “Well you did say one more.”

Ah, Satoru thinks deliriously, if you aren’t Mrs. Gojo by the time you two get out of this then there’s seriously something wrong with him. 

But he doesn’t tell you that. Instead with a satisfied smirk, he claims your lips in a searing kiss, sucking your tongue so lewdly as he did with your cunt. Parting for only a second before pressing his lips to yours again. And again. And again, as if it hurt to part.

“Mhm. Always wanted to do this, sweetheart.” he hums against your pretty lips. “Fuck ever since you hah- walked in on that first day.” 

Kissing you sweetly with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as pulls back, back, back. All the way till his angry, hard tip was just grazing your sloppy entrance. “One more.”

Body moving before his mind, his hips start fucking into your dripping cunt recklessly. Satoru doesn’t fuck you with the finesse he imagined he would all these years, rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and all the desperation from these last few years.

In one, fluid movement, the burn of the stretch hits you before the realization that Satoru has thrown your legs over his sculpted shoulders. 

“Ah- So good, Toru. Oh my god- hah-” you mewl at the change in angle. His pulsing dick expertly hitting that one spot inside you which has your words slurring together, body arching off the floor to press so impossibly close against him. 

And, well, Satoru isn’t any better - because he’s slamming his cock into you mindlessly. Hitting that spot over and over. 

With one hand, he caresses your stomach. Whispering out a ragged, “Feel me inside? Feel me right…” Pressing his palm down hard, “Here.”

The other forces you to look up at him, drinking in your whines of “Yes yes yes, can feel you s-so deep hngh- inside me, Toru.” 

You’re so cockdrunk and full of Satoru that you barely notice the hands groping their way down your body. Catching harshly on your swollen clit, starting to draw, quick, frenzied circles that match the cadence of his hips smacking into yours. 

“Look at me.” he murmurs raspily, “Open your mouth.”

And you can do nothing but take it, tongue lolling out so lewdly for the warm stream of spit that hits it. Once. Twice. 

You look up at him with teary eyes, as you take it all -  anything and everything he was giving. And it makes Satoru bow his head with a fucked-out groan, cock twitching so animalistically as it keeps plunging inside you roughly. Deft fingers on your clit becoming more desperate.

Harder. Faster. Balls squeezing so painfully. Like a lamb to slaughter, he was going to eat you up - and you were going to let thim.

You squeal at the overstimulation, hips bucking up for more more more-

“God, sweetheart, you don’t know what you do to me.” he moans, voice strained with desire and the euphoria of getting everything he’s wanted for so long. It was driving him insane. “Now c’mon. One more. Give me one more like my good girl.”

“Hngh- yes- Toru!”

You don’t even know what “one more” means anymore - all you do know is that you’re cumming and cumming all around Satoru’s unforgiving cock. Walls fluttering so snugly, your body convulses as you cream around his cock. Nails dragging down the expanse of his sculpted back, Satoru’s name leaving your bruised lips and into the heady air like a prayer every time his tip kisses your cervix. His new favorite melody.

And that seems to be what makes him snap as well - because with a final, sloppy thrust, he’s painting your walls such a sinful white. Pumping thick, hot ropes of his cum into your quivering cunt. 

“Shit- yeah, my girl. Take it. Take it all f’me.” Satoru shudders above you, head thrown back, chest heaving as he fucks you through your high. Movements nothing more than shallow, mindless little thrusts to get you both off so animalistically. 

It was so fucking filthy - and exactly what you needed so badly. He was exactly what you needed so badly. 

Now, Satoru only had to take one look as you use him so obscenely for your pleasure - eyes dazed, drool trickling down the corner of your mouth - before he thinks he might just cum again. And again. And again until he physically couldn’t anymore.

But first…

Pulling out of your heavenly pussy with a lewd pop! His long fingers delicately collects the mixture of slick and cum now gushing out of you obscenely. 

Aw, what a waste, Satoru muses as it pools below you sinfully. If it was up to him he wouldn’t waste a single drop from your pretty cunt. 

But no matter. 

Abruptly, Satoru bullies two fingers into your mouth - forcing you to taste yourself, to taste him. Pressing right at the back of your tongue in a way that has you choking and gagging around him, teary eyes just begging up at him. Perfect - you were so perfect for him. 

Kissing your forehead with a tenderness that doesn’t match his actions, he hums, faux innocence lacing his words, “What a shame, the box didn’t open yet.”

And oh does he love the excitement lighting up your exhausted eyes. Pretty thighs twitching underneath him as a slow, fucked-out little smile curls your lips. 

“One more? Please?”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[weeblmaodotcom]

How would things change, if Naruto got Karma Seal instead of Boruto? , Meme by Weeblmao.com

[amaea-jewels]

THE CONQUERORS | LEVERAGE

—— summary: In a world where soulmates exist. Your fate has been sealed to the dragons who burned down your home.

—— genre: Dark!au, soulmate au, yandere

—— warnings: Obsessive and possessive behaviour, murder, mention of torture, kidnapping, some very light angst, smut

—— pairing: Aegon Targaryen I x female!reader, Visenya Targaryen x female!reader, Rhaenys Targaryen x female!reader

—— word count: 5k

*no beta we die like bruce wayne's parents * first-time writing, english is not my first language

Never before had you experienced such overwhelming terror. You were a collected person by nature, content with allowing chaos to unfold for others, more so even when you had a hand in creating the chaos. Yet, tonight, it appeared that the karma of all of those nights of "fun" had finally caught up to you.

You found yourself being dragged by two strangers, being forcibly led toward the direction of one of the larger tents positioned at the farthest edge of the camp. You had known you were fucked from the moment your eyes had first locked with violet ones. You had felt the bond snap in place. Those violet eyes, the ones that had burned ypur home to ashes, now held you captive. Your life was now entwined with those haunting eyes that had taken your family from you.

You briefly entertained the idea of ending your life. The tent that they were leading you to was situated relatively close to a cliff. Though you were unsure whether the height would prove itself to be fatal, you felt more than ready to take the risk.

Choosing to end your life would be much more honourable than warming the bed of those who had caused your family's demise.

Newly formed soulbonds were meant to be consummated, and you were well aware that the longer time you spent with them, the more inevitable it would become. You knew that it was only a matter of time.

Ending your own life would save you from that fate.

The thought quickly leaves your mind, as you finally arrive at your destination. A sense of relief washes over you upon seeing that the tent is empty. However, that relief swiftly fades away as you are pulled toward the large bed situated in the room's centre. Your arms are tightly bound by sturdy metal chains, anchoring you to the master bed. You sigh, leaning your head against one of the pillows, attempting to find some rest.

The next several hours pass like a blur.

New guards take the place of the former standing right outside the tent. One usually remains on guard while the other leaves — you're not sure why. The idea of you actually being able to escape or cause any kind of damage is laughable at the very least. How would you be able to run whilst tied to a bed with metal chains?

You know it's late when one of them finally shows up — the darkness that fills the room is more than enough of an indication — it's the older one you realise after a few moments of watching her. Her hair was beautifully braided into intricate patterns. She was beautiful but there was an air of darkness that seemed to cling to her. She swiftly took off her ringmail, not even sparing you a glance, as she started undressing.

You did your best to avert your gaze, as she undressed herself fully. She turned toward you, recognising your presence for the first time since entering the tent.

She sauntered toward you. Her cold harsh unforgivable violet eyes digging into you. You're keenly aware of the fact that she's still not wearing anything, as you keep your gaze toward the side. Attempting to hide yourself from her.

She seizes hold of your jaw, redirecting your gaze toward her, eliminating any possibility of evading her. With a firm touch, she runs a finger across your face. The bond hummed at her actions.

"So you're the one."

Eyes still cold as she studies you carefully. Her hand which was previously caressing your cheek, start travelling down south. Stopping briefly at your throat, giving it a light squeeze before moving on, her hand stops when it reaches down to your waist.

She presses her naked body closer to you, keeping the eye contact as she dares you to do something. An amused smirk crept onto her face, at your obvious discomfort. The both of you stay there for a few minutes. Neither speaking, as she continues to study you with those violet eyes of hers.

Simultaneously, she seizes both of your hands, releasing her grip on your jaw and waist. She brings both your hands up to cup her breasts, as she brings herself closer to you. Both of your bodies pressed tightly up against one another. She slowly starts grinding herself against you. Disregarding you completely.

You start thrashing against her desperately attempting to move your hands away from her body. Suddenly, her grip on your hand loosens, and one of her hands swiftly flies up to encircle your throat, exerting firm pressure to keep you in place. You look up to study her facial expression, to see every ounce of amusement had disappeared, instead replaced by a serious demeanour. She leans in intimately, bringing her face close to your ear.

"You fight so viciously, just like your family. What a shame that couldn't save them from their fate," she speaks venomously, "but there's still some of them left, aren't there?"

She looks down at your horrified expression. A smile starting to bloom across her face.

"Your nephew, what was his name now? Was it Flammin? Fliden? No, it is Florian, is it not? Such a sweet young boy. Just passed his fifth naming day hasn't he?" she taunted a wicked smile still present on her lips, "it would be such a shame if his life was to be cut short now, wouldn't it?"

Tears welled up silently in your eyes as the weight of her words began to settle in. Florian, a young boy, was the sole family you had. His mother had succumbed to childbirth, and his father had fallen victim to those ruthless monsters. Florian had always been a frail and sickly boy. Without proper attention, he wouldn't survive even a fortnight. You had dedicated countless nights to his care since his birth, nurturing him in the absence of your older brother. Who always had matters of the court to attend to.

You felt guilt prickle away at your chest. You had completely forgotten about him. In your defense, you hadn't even been sure he survived. Most had suffered the cruel fate of being burned alive by dragon fire. But surely if Queen Visenya knew of his existence, that must've meant he was still alive?

You didn't answer. There was nothing to be said. She had won. And you could tell she knew that too from the smirk that was covering her face. Slowly her hand started slipping down your body again. Coming to a halt when she neared your breast. Keeping the eye contact, she started palming them. Realishing in seeing you melt. As the bond started to hum even stronger.

"Visenya" a female voice called from behind, halting Visenya’s movement, "playing your games again, aren't you?"

"I have no idea what you refer to," she snapped, keeping her back turned toward the woman, "I was simply familiarizing myself with our bonded."

The woman standing behind Visenya was beautiful. With silver hair that swayed openly down her back. It took you a moment, to recall her name; Rhaenys. The youngest of the three conquerors.

You continued to stare at her shamelessly. She was beautiful, both of them were. You absently noted, that her violet eyes were lighter than that of Visenya, there was also a sense of playfulness in them. You presumed that made sense, from the rumours you had heard, Rhaenys was supposed to be the more kindhearted and playful of the three.

Rhaenys' eyes flicked down briefly to meet yours. You were met with a comforting smile, as her eyes flickered up to meet her the older again.

Her lips parted, and unfamiliar words flew from her mouth, a language entirely unknown to your ears. Amidst the unfamiliar words, you faintly understood the mention of the name "Aegon."

Aegon. You're body subconsciously shivered at the mention of his name. It had been him who had discovered you. After the burning of your home, the survivors had been brought before their new king. They were to bow and hail him for his mercy. It was at that moment when your eyes had locked with his, you both knew.

Words had not been exchanged. He had simply walked through the crowd and grabbed a hold of your wrist where your mark was located. With one simple glance at the three-headed dragon symbol marked into your skin, there had been no point in denying it. King Aegon had motioned for his men to take you, as you stood frozen to your spot. He started barking orders for his men to follow, but you could barely make out any word he was saying. Head still reeling from the revelation.

You could feel the irritation radiating off of Visenya as she completely let go of you. The two continued to speak in a foreign language, as Visenya dressed herself once more. The two seemed to be on the verge of arguing before they both left, leaving you alone once again.

You lay sprawled across the bed, sleeping peacefully until the gentle touch of an unfamiliar hand caressing you, caused you to startle awake. Your eyes were still drowsy with sleep, and it took you a minute to fully recognise the person sitting in front of you.

"Aegon," you whispered in shock.

You had only just spoken the words when you jerked away harshly, your body moving on its own accord. You were unaware of when you had fallen asleep last night. You must've drifted off the sleep while lost in your own thoughts.

"Hello," he greeted warmly, edging closer up the bed toward you. You didn't answer. To dazed by sleep to fully comprehend what was going on.

"You must be cold," he tried again. You could feel he was attempting to start up a conversation and unlike Visenya, you had an irking feeling he would want you to respond.

"I'm fine," you responded meekly.

He hummed, seemingly not convinced. He inched himself nearer toward you, aligning his thigh with your reclined figure, the pressure causing the bond to hum. Encouraging you to move closer toward your bonded. You relented. Despite whatever desire that remained inside of you to give in to the bond, and allow for them to do whatever he wished to you. You could not forget the screams of your people as the dragon fire consumed them. How could you ever forget? When their screams would haunt you to the night you die.

“I apologize for Visenya’s behaviour. She can be very . . . . forward to say the least.”

You nodded, accepting his terrible apology and excuse, so you could move on to what was important.

You sat yourself straight up. “My nephew, is he well?”

“He is well,” Aegon confirmed. His finger returned to your face once more, as he started trailing your features. “I can assure you no harm shall come to your nephew, as long you as you remain with us.”

While his words were meant to be comforting. The underlying threat was not lost on you. The message was clear: attempt to run and your nephew would suffer the price for your foolishness. Instead of arguing with the man who held your nephew’s life in his hands, you opted to change the conversation.

“What time is it?”

His reply came instantly. “Late at night. By now most, if not all, have retired to their tents.” His finger continued trailing over your features, now reaching your lips. He applied firm pressure, eyes keen on your every expression, as he moved on to fiddling with your hair.

“Where are your wives then?” You had not meant for the words to escape as bitterly as they did. But at the very thought of Visenya and her complete disregard for your discomfort and family. You couldn’t help the root of anger that was settling over your heart at the mention of her.

“In their tents, resting for the night.” If he had heard the bitterness in your tone then he was certainly ignoring it. He kept a comforting smile on his lips. You furrowed your brows at his answer. Should the Queens not be on the side of the King? While it wasn’t fully uncommon for spouses to have separate rooms, you would’ve assumed bonded like them would remain together.

He seemed to be able to tell your confusion for a moment had not passed before he started explaining himself. “My sisters enjoy having their own separate beds. I fear they would argue far too much about the other stealing all their space. Though I suppose that may perhaps change with your arrival.”

Sisters. They were siblings. Right, you had completely forgotten. The Valyrian custom you had heard so much about. It had completely escaped your mind that all three conquerors were of the same blood and of the same father. Disgust crept its way through you at that revelation.

“Should you not be sleeping?” You quickly said after realising that you had spent far too much time pondering about the strange Valyrian custom. “I much rather spend my time with you,” he replied smoothly. Eyes flickering up to meet yours again.

“And how fun that must be, staring at me sleeping.” You bit back, before realising you had spoken back to the King. “It is indeed,” he replied back rather amused, “especially with my name rolling off your mouth whilst you slept.”

Heat begin to prickle at your skin at his words. Surely you did not?

“What were you dreaming of?” He asks.

You're aware that he’s only asking because he already knows the answer. And despite you not remembering the dream, you're also keenly aware of the sheet of sweat that covers you and the way your undergarments seem to cling to you. You internally curse yourself. You recognise it to be a symptom of not having the bond consummated immediately after your initial meeting. The heightened sense of arousal, the sexual dreams and the need to be in one another’s presence. Direct symptoms of the bond. You remember your mother’s stories of bonded ones meeting for the first time. They usually consummate the bond at the exact moment they meet, the frenzy of the bond simply too strong to resist.

“I don’t remember.” Only a partial lie, you truly did not remember, however, you had an irking suspicion toward what that dream contained, as did he.

He laughs a quiet yet dangerous sound that strokes a fire inside of you. “Perhaps then, I could help you remember. It was after all me you were dreaming of.”

The meaning of his words caused your body to grow fully warm. “You’re flattering yourself far too much,” you lamely attempt.

He moves closer toward you at those words. As you started slowly crawling back from him. A large smirk grew on his face. “I’m sure you like to think that, wouldn’t you.” He drew himself nearer, standing so close to you, you’re faces were merely an inch apart, “but I heard the way you called my name, so sweetly.”

“I did no such thing.”

“It’s nothing to be ashamed of.” His voice drops down to a sensual tone, “I myself have to admit that I have found myself dreaming of you plenty of times throughout the day,” he closed his eyes momentarily. “Every time I close my eyes, I see you writhing in pleasure beneath me.” He begins, keeping his eyes closed as if he was imagining it right now. “Or I see you laying on this bed, my sisters between your legs, worshipping you with their mouths, bringing you to ecstasy over and over before I finally take you.”

Your heart starts pounding fast. In fact, you’re not sure if your heart has ever gone this fast before. You feel warm. Too warm, despite the coldness of the night seeping into the room. You can feel your pulse in your throat and the dryness that has settled over your lips.

“So tell me once more, what was it that you were dreaming of?” He asks in a hushed voice.

“Nothing.” You reply quickly, averting your gaze toward the exit. The idea of running away from this entire situation seems suddenly very appealing.

“So you don’t wish for my help?”

This time you don’t reply too afraid of giving the answer that you truly wish to say. After a moment of pure silence. With you ignoring his longing eyes, he decides to change his approach.

“You must be feeling so desperate.”

You don’t respond too afraid to say anything anymore. He leans toward you. You can feel his breath in your ear. You can feel the ache between your legs growing stronger.

“We’re not meant to go this long without each other,” he whispers delicately against you, “you know that. It’s only been a couple of hours. Yet, your body is aching for me, just as I am for you.” He glides his tongue against your cheek. Fire spreads everywhere he touches you. “Poor Visenya could barely contain herself from want. I had to order her and Rhaenys to leave you alone or else I fear they both would’ve ravished you the moment you entered our camp. But I convinced them it would be best if I warmed you up to us first. That all of us at once, forcing your attention upon us. Whilst your mind was still reeling from loss would be far too much.”

Your breath comes out shaky as you struggle to contain your own wants. It would be so wrong to give in. They had murdered your family. They had even threatened the only one that remained. Briefly, you wondered how things could’ve been different if you had met under normal circumstances. Telling your mother how happy you were at finding your bonded, asking permission to court you properly once the frenzy of the bond had passed. How different it all could’ve been. Instead, it was them who had robbed you of all of that. Your mother was dead, and so was your father. There was no need for a courting period for there was no one alive for them to ask permission for your hand from.

“Give yourself to me.” Aegon’s voice is rough with wanting like this is just as hard for him as it is for you. “I know you feel it. I feel it, too. You yearn for me, you crave my touch. Let me make you feel good, let me ease that ache you feel. Give yourself to us, and in return, we shall give you whatever your heart desires.”

“My heart desires for my family to be alive, tell me can you make that happen.” You snap back tears brimming into your eyes at the mention of your deceased family. A full night had yet not even passed and here you were dishonouring them all by giving yourself to the man who had killed them.

Something shifted in Aegon’s eyes at those words. Violet eyes growing stern much like Visenya’s had. His hand grabbed at your jaw bringing your eyes up to meet his. The familiarity of the situation was not lost upon you. As you stared up into his beautiful violet eyes.

“What happened to your family was their own fault had they simply bent the knee as I had asked of them. There would be no need for the pointless slaughter of your people,” his grip at your jaw tightened, “but I have been merciful have I not? I could’ve burned the survivors in dragon fire as well, but I did not. I could’ve killed your pathetic nephew who continuously begs my guards to be brought into your presence. But I do not. You know why?” He rubs the tears falling from you eyes away, “for I am a merciful King, but that does not mean, I shall remain one.”

“What is merciful of you burning my family alive? It was our King who made the decision to not bend his knee, not us!” You shouted back, jerking yourself free from his hold. "You say it’s mercy letting us live. Very well, then go ahead kill me. Give me the solace of being united with my family once more.”

He laughs, coldly at your little display of anger. “Very well, but remember that you asked for this.”

He backs away from the bed, grabbing his sword on his way out. “Wait! What’re you doing.” You desperately yell after him, “I told you to kill me, to punish me! Wait!”

You struggle against the metal chains keeping you tied to the bed. Your screams for Aegon to stop echoing through the night. Soon those screams are replaced by those of others. Dread fills your being as you realise what was happening.

Tears stream down your face your throat becomes sore from your sobbing. Eventually, you fell asleep, tears still streaming down your face.

Upon awakening, a throbbing headache greeted you—a consequence of having cried yourself to sleep. The light streaming into the tent suggested that it was now daytime. You glanced down at the blanket enveloping your shivering form. Vaguely, you remembered someone entering the tent late at night after you had drifted off. Whether it was Aegon or another you weren't sure. Exhaustion had overwhelmed you to the point where the mere thought of opening your eyes and checking was too much.

After throwing the blanket on you, the person joined you in bed. But remained at a comfortable distance so as not to disturb you. As you stirred around, you became aware that the person had left.

You sighed, running a hand through your face. The metal chains still digging painfully into your wrists.

The events of the previous night played back in your mind on repeat. A sense of dread fills you. What would the consequences be if you continued to reject their advances? How far would they go to keep you in line? How many would die as a consequence of their anger? Would they kill you if you continued to deny them?

You remained sprawled on the bed for several hours, unable to free yourself from the metal chains that bound you. Eventually, tiredness overcame you, and you slipped back into slumber. When you stirred again, it was to the sensation of someone shaking you awake.

"You must be starving," the voice observed. You recognised the voice; Rhaenys.

Before you, she stood, as breathtakingly beautiful as you remembered her to be. It took a moment for her words to fully register, and then you nodded in agreement. The audible growl of your stomach served as a reminder of the prolonged time you had gone with the absence of food—it had been two full days. Rhaenys smiled, offering you a plate of food. Without a word, you accepted the plate and began to eat. Rhaenys remained silent, unabashedly observing you as you ate.

After finishing your meal, you silently set the plate on the side table. The room fell into a hush as the two of you sat in silence, you with your gaze fixed on the floor, and Rhaenys studying you intently. Suddenly, she rose and positioned herself directly behind you on the bed, your back pressed against her chest. A surge of fear gripped you—what was she planning? Would she force herself on you as Visenya had done, or would she threaten you much like Aegon had done?

Surprisingly, she did neither. Instead, she pulled a brush and began running it through your hair. You started relaxing under her gentle ministrations. Eventually, she transitioned into braiding your hair skillfully. Two large braids took shape, and she proceeded to pin them up into an elegant updo, her actions gentle and kind.

"You shouldn't have said those things to Aegon, you upset him."

Her words sent a sudden jolt through your body, erasing any trace of comfort that had briefly settled into you. Instantly, tension gripped your frame.

"Your continued denial of the bond shall only bring pain to us. Embrace it. Acknowledge your destined path. You belong to us now," the calmness Rhaenys exhibited while speaking, caused shivers to run down your spine, "should you attempt to escape with your little nephew, our forces will inevitably hunt you down and bring you back. Half of Westeros has fallen to our whim, the rest shall soon follow. Tell me, who shall risk their lives and those of their kin to shield you from us? Last night, you incurred only a speck of Aegon's wrath, forcing him to unveil but a fraction of our might. Imagine the repercussions should you provoke us once more."

With that final word, she left. Leaving you once more in a state of fear.

Days pass before someone attempts to visit you again. Each day, a new guard came to attend to you, delivering food and bringing you to a nearby lake to clean yourself.

As days pass you begin to fight your own instinct. Begging for you to be near your homicidal bonded. Each night you were haunted by dreams of them, each dream leaving you more frustrated than the last. The fact that you know that they have been visiting every night while you pretend to sleep doesn't help.

It is on the fifth day of this behaviour continuing that you finally snapped.

A gentle hand traced along your back as your consciousness began to return. Most of your nights since entering the camp had been spent sleeping, daydreaming or reading. The familiarity of the rough hand hinted at Aegon's presence, a revelation that didn't surprise you. Although all three had taken turns visiting you every night. Aegon was the one that usually ended up curled next to you sleeping at night.

Upon feeling you stir, he retracted his hand from your back. Instantly your own shot up to stop.

“Wait,” you all but begged, “don’t stop.”

“Don’t stop what?”

His voice was rough, just like you remembered it to be. He hadn’t spoken to you directly, not since that night. You had heard him bark orders at his men and seen him conversing with Orys Baratheon. But he had refused to speak to you ever since you had snapped at him.

“Touch me, please.”

The pure desperation in your voice wasn’t lost on you. And though you felt heat creeping up your skin at your confession, you couldn’t deny how badly you needed him. After all, Rhaenys had been right. You were only causing yourself misery by refusing yourself what you wanted. At your request, his hand rubbed down the side of your waist. Your breath becomes shaky as you turn to lie on your back to face him. Aegon was staring at you intensely.

You didn't know what to say to him. How to voice out the desire building in your chest. So you settle for calling out his name. Your voice is dripping with desire and desperation. Gazing into those violet eyes, you catch a glimpse of the fire so characteristic of the Targaryens just before his lips meet yours.

There’s nothing gentle about the kiss shared between you two. It’s the kiss of two people who have been deprived of their true desires for far too long, your teeth bumping against each other, tongues twisting and tangling. His hand grabs a hold of your hair and keeps you in place. The bond hums loudly in approval of your actions.

Aegons draws himself back slightly to look at your expression, his free hand moving to palm your breast over your nightgown. You moan at the feeling. His other hand lets go of your hair to slither down your body and press against your core.

“You’re drenched,” he mutters breathlessly, slowing down his movements as he starts to tease you, “I could make you cum from this alone.”

“Please” you beg, your hips bucking up to meet him.

“I should make you beg me for it after everything you put us through.” His eyes are dark as he speaks, his thumb pressing hard against your clit, making you moan. “Luckily, I am a generous King. I can feel how much you need to come on my fingers.”

You nod wildly, as he inserts a finger into you, pleasure pulsating through you.

“You’ve been craving this, waiting for this very moment,” Aegon murmurs against your ear with a wicked smile. “You’ve tried to deny yourself, but you need me, you need my touch.”

You whimper pathetically, your hips rocking wildly aganist him. “Say it,” he demands, pushing another finger into your dripping core.

“I need you to make me come, Aegon. Please, my King, I need you so badly.” You purposefully empathize with his title, knowing what button to press to make him give in.

His violet eyes darken even further as he pulls you towards the edge of the bed, getting down on his knees in front of you. He makes swift work of removing your clothes. Before his lips descend down on you. You moan loudly your hand moving to entangle yourself into his hair.

Aegon mumbles something against your clit that you can’t hear, before teasing you with the tip of his tongue and then pressing it flat against you and rubbing it in slow circles. Meanwhile, his fingers moved to find that soft, aching spot inside of you and he purposefully pressed against it in slow, firm thrusts that made you tremble.

“Aegon, please” you moan, partly as encouragement for him to continue and partly because you want him so badly. You’re so close. Your entire body is tense and trembling; all you can think about is how badly you need to come, how much you are aching for your release. You’re so close.

“Aegon, please,” you plea again, truly desperate now. “Please my king. Please.”

You’re not sure if it’s what you said, the desperation in your voice, or if it’s just pure coincidence, but in that moment. Aegon shifts his rhythm, bringing you closer toward your peak and over the edge.

Your orgasm hits you hard. You have never felt anything like this before. You feel satisfied but also feel the ache growing stronger than ever before. He looks up at you a smile displayed on his beautiful, handsome face. He crawls up to you, pressing a deep kiss into your lips. He continues kissing you as he slides a hand down to your core again. Firm fingers pressing against you. “There you go, feels good doesn’t it?” He murmurs into your temple pressing a kiss against it, “I wanna see your expression this time. You can come for me again. Can’t you my sweet girl?”

He speaks as if it’s a question but from the way he’s pressing his finger into you. You know, you have no choice in the matter.

“Oh, dear, Lords,” you gasp loudly.

You’re doing so well for me,” he kisses you again. He lowers his voice to a sensual whisper, leaning in closer to your ear. “I can’t wait to fuck you until you’re trembling and coming all over me like the sweet girl you are.” It’s the combination of his words, his voice and his perfect hands that bring you over the edge.

“Yes, that’s it,” Aegon mutters encouraging, as he watches you. “You are so beautiful when you come undone like that.” He kisses you slowly. It’s only then you realise that he's still fully clothed while you lay naked underneath him.

You don't have time to complain. All of a sudden, he grabs hold of your body, manhandling you around so you now lay on your stomach. He pushes your head into the bed harder as he scoops a hand underneath your hips, lifting your bare ass into the air, exposing your drenched pussy to the cold air.

He lands a hard smack on your ass.

"If you hadn't been so stubborn, this could have happened much earlier" Aegon spoke in a hushed voice, hands trailing down your waist. You said nothing. Entirely too breathless to defend yourself. Aegon placed himself at your entrance and allowed you no time to adjust to the massive length of his before he slammed into you. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You gasped as he picked up his pace, fucking you with wild and reckless abandon.

"Come on, my sweet," he taunted, "tell me how much you hate me now."

Aegon slammed into you so deep it really felt like he might kill you after all. You felt yourself pulse around his cock, your pussy trying to somehow pull him in deeper.

"So. Fucking. Tight," he said through gritted teeth. His hands gripping your hips with such force you knew they would bruise. Part of you beamed internally at the idea of being marked up by your bonded. Heat exploded inside of you. Your eyes were momentarily blinded as you felt yourself reach your climax.

"Please, fill me, Aegon," you begged, head still shoved into the bed. Aegon groaned at your words, holding your hips tightly as he pulled you back up against him to fuck him. He picked up his speed, thrusts becoming messy and sloppy as he chased his own peak.

He thrusted in roughly a few more times before he finally stilled, pushing inside of you as far as he could. He stayed inside of you for a few moments more before slowly pulling out, watching his cum spill out of your abused cunt. The loss of him being inside of you, causes you to whimper, feeling empty.

"That was truly a spectacular show," Visenya's voice sounded. Turning to your right, you beheld the sight of both the sisters standing there, a hint of amusement evident in their expressions. "I certainly hope you're not too tired for another round," Rhaenys quipped. The two women sauntered closer toward the bed where the two of you were situated. Crawling over the duvet toward you.

"Not that it truly matters if you are," Visenya smirked. Planting her mouth at your shoulder blade, she started sucking. Rhaenys copying her movement on your other one. You hummed in delight, completely unaware of the massacre that was befalling your people outside the tent, as your bonded made sure to keep your undivided attention on them.

They couldn't afford the possibility of your focus being split between them and the well-being of your people, especially when you were destined to belong to them. And with the bond now finally complete, you would never be able to leave. The strategy of isolating you without their presence played out flawlessly, leveraging the bond into compelling you to yield.

[hot-astrology]

The Aqaurius Mind: Pluto in Aquarius, Age of Aqaurius, and 2024

The recent events surrounding Katt Williams have stirred my interest, though this event barely scratches the surface of the cosmic workings. The year 2024 portends a great unraveling, as deciphered through its numerology (8) : the influence of Pluto looms over this year, with its placement in Aquarius.

This year's fixed energies signal transformation (Aquarius and Scorpio) and raw power (Taurus and Leo), with Uranus and Jupiter in Taurus and Pluto in Aquarius. The impact of the fixed signs will be significant and profound.

Saturn's presence in Pisces heralds a great awakening. ;I am reminded of my own natal Saturn in the 12th house, which imbues this area of spirituality with discipline and authenticity.Saturn brings discipline and realness to this area of spirituality. And this is what we will see happening for those who are already tapped in. For those who are not this is another great chance similar to 2020 to awaken.

Turning to Vedic astrology, Saturn is positioned in Aquarius this year. In 2020, this was such a huge alignment the only difference is there won't be a great conjunction. But I could see similar potency already. With certain things being spoken about, and if you haven't heard. It's because the government (Saturn) is trying to hide (pisces) a lot of this information away from society. We are fully in the age of aquarius, and things will only continue to get exposed. And no matter how much certain authorities try to hide or stop it. It won't stop until the FULL truth is revealed. No matter how many people are killed, and etc. More and more will keep popping up until the mission is done.

Now switching to tarot, because this is how I connect a lot of my dots. The 21st card (The world card); This card consists of a lion (leo), an eagle (scorpio), a human (Aqaurius), and a bull (Taurus) We see all of these energies being pulled towards us. The world card is the very last card in the tarot deck and represents completion. Now, I would like to turn this over to venuz because he knows more about the cycles and years and stuff. But, I do, I want to also talk about the 10th card in tarot. This is the wheel of fortune. This card signifies karma, destiny, and fate. The cycle of life. This card also resembles the world card but not in a way where things are ending. It shows how life goes on & on. This card also has The Lion, The Bull, The Human, and The Eagle. The four corners of the world/ The angels of the four directions. We see how that number 4 is so significant. These are cycles, and fixed is the last stage. Beyonce was right, America really does have a problem...... The Seal has been broken. ☺ Now, to you venuz.

Cycles......Yes, cycles! Everything evolves in cycles and changes, it's only so long you can stay in the same scenario or comfort zone without chaos knocking at your door. Aquarius is all about change and revolutionizing its surroundings and its people. This energy is at its boiling point. Every 20 years there's a recurrent cycle of same-aged groups with specific behaviors that change. So, if you add 3 more cycles to that it will be a 4 cycle switch, which every generation would affect the other. When the 80-year mark comes around it is a crucial period. Everything is done in cycles, it doesn't matter what it is. Saturn in Pisces will materialize everything you think of, or focus on. This will also bring about what you have been hiding, and not speaking. Thoughts of your subconscious will be brought to the surface, and some will have to face those fears. For Example, Katt Williams has known all of these lies, secrets, backstabbing, cheating, phony, and false allegations, so it's being materialized. All his thoughts, dreams, and deep-rooted issues about other comedians came out to the forefront without any care. As he spoke and exposed their behaviors in front of millions (mass 11th house) and demanded a change (pluto). This calls on the energy of Pluto in Aquarius.

Pluto in Aquarius loves erratic behavior and unexpected scenarios. Pluto comes with a punch and is at full throttle here. Many people are outspoken now and about change and freedom. Aquarius is all revolutionary and Pluto is a generational planet so change is bound to come. This is just the beginning of this world being destroyed and reconstructed into a new and profound system that isn't in line with these new powerful souls. This makes an 80-year period. 10 more years from now will make 90 years which is energy 9 which will be the completion of a major cycle. 8 is just the transformation period and reconstructing period, everything and everyone who wasn't living in their own essence and misusing their fortune, fame and financial abundance in a non conducive manner will reverse roles and be exposed for their inequality.

Like gorgeous Moon Devi said they're trying to hide what they're up to but Saturn in Pisces is revealing everything they have been hiding. So everyone wakes up to all those lies, takes off the rose-colored glasses, no more fantasy land, and is in a delusional state of mind. Pluto in Aquarius will allow everyone to have a voice and speak up, change what's not right, and stand for something even if you never did your whole life. If you were born in this era or if you were born to still be alive in this era get ready for the showdown. If watched in Living Color, this movie promises to be a captivating experience, delivering the answers to long-standing questions and revealing hidden truths. It has the potential to evoke personal fears, making them tangible and forcing introspection. It's a crucial time for everyone, not just celebrities or elites, to focus on self-healing, purification of the soul, and actualizing personal aspirations. Astrologically, the influence of Aquarius, which rules the 11th house of hopes and aspirations, and Pluto provides the necessary impetus to transform negative situations into positive ones, for oneself and the greater good.

However you envision your world to be, you will get the results in this transit. Imagine yourself as a kid at the art table, and you have a box of crayons, an blank piece of paper. The teacher tells you to draw your new world. How would you create it? Would it consist of peace, prosperity, and love? Then she says," Stand up in front of the class, and explain what your world looks like." You say it out loud in front of the class with conviction and power. Then you close your eyes and watch it manifest right before you, VOILA!!! 

From two aqaurius/uranus dominant spirits, ~ Prinz Venuz & Moon Devi

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐎𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐭

𝑶𝒖𝒓 𝑷𝒂𝒈𝒆𝒔: 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐳 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐮𝐳 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐞𝐯𝐢

[yoonkinii]

Sukuna with drunk y♡u

Warning(s): cursing, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of spanking in a sexual scenario, brief mention of puking. Requests open (only for this AU) Masterlist (check for more AU content!) Important note: I am deeply sorry it has taken me so long to update this AU. I was really struggling to write something I was happy with. It took me a while to realize this but I can not just solely write for this AU. This does not mean I am going to stop writing it, it just means updates for this AU will release at a slower rate since I will be writing other things. This is just a way to prevent me from writer block. Thank You!

He might kill you. No, scratch that, he will kill you. Sukuna curses to himself, drumming his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel as he gets stopped by yet another red light. He had left the house the moment he realized just how drunk you were. 

Another curse slips from his lips as the light finally turns green. He should have never let you go to that college frat party. But in his defense, he knew you needed a break from school and that your friend with a smoking problem would be there as well. Karma was surely biting him in the ass now. 

His phone screen lights up, displaying your contact name. Keeping one hand on the wheel, he picks up his phone to read your text. A long, annoyed sigh escapes his nose at your response to his previous message.

He only slightly feared what he would find when he arrived at the party. You had sent him the location a few days earlier at his request. He wanted to know how far away you would be - not because he was worried about being apart from you, of course. 

A few more minutes on the road and a few turns later, Sukuna enters a crowded street. Parked cars line both sides, causing him to frown in distaste at the sheer number of people attending the party.

It wasn’t hard for Sukuna to find the house responsible for his girlfriend’s current state. College students littered the lawn, drinking, laughing, and a few even making out. Sukuna rolled his eyes, parking his car right in the middle of the street. His door slammed shut behind him, drawing the attention of several partygoers. One look at his irked expression had them sealing their lips and diverting their attention elsewhere. 

Passing through the open front door, Sukuna’s senses were immediately assaulted by flashing neon lights, the stench of alcohol and sweat, and the press of bodies. Shoving his way through the crowd and casting a glare at anyone who dared to yell at him, he searched for your familiar head. He knew exactly what you were wearing, having taken a photo of you before you left with Shoko because, in his words, you looked hot. You wore a black off-the-shoulder mini dress with long sleeves that flared slightly at the wrists and knee-length boots to match. Even knowing what you were wearing didn’t make it any easier to find you in the throng of people. 

A figure in the corner of his eye catches Sukuna’s attention. It’s Shoko, leaning against a wall in the living room between two men he’s never seen before. His long strides quickly close the distance between them. Sukuna watches as Shoko cracks a smile at something the white-haired boy says to the dark-haired one. As if sensing his approach, Shoko’s eyes darted up to meet Sukuna’s. Her brows pinch slightly in confusion before something clicks, and with a cheeky smile, she points towards the kitchen. 

Huffing a breath, he follows her directions, ignoring the way Shoko’s two friends pester her with questions about him. If Sukuna thought the living room was bad, the kitchen is worse. His shoes stick to the alcohol-soaked floors as bodies come in and out, refilling their cups or grabbing whole bottles. A shrill shriek is his only warning before a body crashes into his own.

“S’kuna! How are you here?” You look up, pressing your chin to his chest. Looking at him as if hung the stars himself. Instinctively, Sukuna’s hand rests on the curve of your ass, his fingers digging slightly into the soft flesh. 

“I dro-” 

A wet kiss silences him, your lips pressing firmly against his. Standing on your tiptoes, you cradle his face with your palms. Sukuna reciprocates with a small grunt, his hand on your ass pulling you closer, flush against his chest. 

Humming into the kiss, you pull away with a content smile. Sukuna looks down at you, taking in your disheveled appearance. Even in the low light, he can see your flushed cheeks, a clear sign of how drunk you are. Your hair, once meticulously styled, is now frazzled, with strands sticking to your sweaty neck. Even your makeup is smudge in some place.

Suddenly, you blink and a wide grin overtakes your face. “Let’s go dance!” you exclaim, turning towards the living room. You don’t even make it a step before a hand pulls you back by the waist.

“No,” Sukuna’s voice is final as he practically drags you out of the house. He catches Shoko’s gaze to let her know he’s taking you home. A simple nod from her is all he needs before he picks you up and slings you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

Naturally, this spectacle draws attention. Some eyes are curious, others worried about what is happening. Sukuna hisses as you squirm in his grasp, whining all the way back to his car. 

“Put me down! I’m not done.” 

Sukuna doesn’t answer as he opens the passenger door. He doesn’t answer as you complain when he sets you down on your feet, or when he buckles you in after getting you into the car. You’re left to pout, your narrowed eyes boring holes through the front windshield. 

“Don’t be a brat,” Sukuna chides, pinching your cheeks and chuckling softly when you swat at his hand. “You don’t need to drink or party anymore. Your words are so slurred it gives me a headache.”

His words seem to snap you out of something as you turn to look at him. Sukuna is instantly taken aback by your watery gaze. “I give you headaches?” you ask softly, biting your bottom lip in shame. 

Sukuna sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he takes a deep breath. Of course, you were the emotional type when drunk. Your emotions shifted instantly, it almost gave him whiplash. 

“No, Love,” Sukuna’s palm runs gently over your head, tucking your hair behind your ear. “I was kidding. You would never give me a headache.” He presses his lips to your forehead, hoping to calm you down before you break down over something so trivial. 

Your eyes trail him up and down warily, as if searching for a lie hidden on his skin. After a moment, a smile graces your lips, deeming him truthful. Sukuna shuts the door, relieved by your smile. Walking around the car, his shoulders slump - just what in the world is he going to do with you?

A giggle escapes your lips for the umpteenth time as you trip over your own two feet. Sukuna’s arm wrapped around your waist is the only reason you haven’t face-planted into the floor. The corner of Sukuna’s mouth curls in irritation, constantly having to carry your weight as you stumble and lean into him. The trek from his driveway to the front door is filled with you putting your dead weight against him, your face buried in his chest.

Even now, as he uses his free hand to unlock the door, you dangle off him, rubbing your cheek on his bicep while mumbling incoherent words. Sukuna has half a mind to break the door down just to get inside quicker, but thankfully, the key turns, and the door opens with a shove of his foot. 

Stowing his keys in his pocket, he decides he’s had enough of your stumbling. You squeal as he lifts you over his shoulder once more, carrying you to his bedroom. 

“Oh my God, your ass looks great from this angle,” you exclaim, your face now level with it. 

Sukuna doesn’t respond, though he briefly considers swatting your ass in response to your comment. He restrains himself, thinking it might be more enjoyable another time. 

An ‘oof’ escapes your lips as your back collides with Sukuna’s bed, a giggle bubbling up as you bounce softly against the surface. Sitting up, you eye Sukuna through your lashes as he stands before you with a raised brow, arms crossed in mock annoyance. 

You flop back down onto the bed, placing your heel on Sukuna’s thigh. “Take my shoes off, pleeease,” you drawl.

Sukuna grumbles under his breath about how he can't believe he’s letting you treat him like this. Despite his complaints, he unzips your boot without hesitation, tapping your thigh to signal you to give him the other foot. Once both shoes are off - along with your socks - he tosses them aside, not caring where they land. 

“Stand up,” he orders. 

You groan, annoyed at having to leave the comfort of his mattress. Once you’re standing, albeit swaying slightly, Sukuna motions for you to turn around with a twirl of his finger. 

Sukuna’s hands are cool against your skin, his fingertips trailing across your exposed shoulders. He presses a kiss to your shoulder, savoring the way you lean back into his touch. With a slow, deliberate motion, he unzips your dress, letting it pool at your ankles as he tugs it off. 

“Whoa - you want me that badly, Kuna? I think you’re obsessed with me,” you tease, blinking groggily at your discarded dress as you step out of it. 

Sukuna hums, his fingers sending shivers up your spine as they trace along your back. “I am,” he replies deeply, catching your drunken mind off guard. You whirl around to face him, but pause when you see he’s no longer behind you. Instad, he’s heading towards the bathroom connected to his room. You follow close behind, not wanting to be apart from your boyfriend after he’s treated you so tenderly. 

Leaning on the doorframe of the bathroom, you watch as Sukuna adjusts the shower head, testing the water until it reaches a comfortable temperature for you.  

“Take the rest of your clothes off,” Sukuna instructs, not even turning to ensure you’re nearby. He knows you are, simply because the room is silent, and you aren't babbling like you were during the car ride back. He confirms your presence when he hears the sounds of you shuffling out of your undergarments. 

You sigh in relief as you finally unhook your strapless bra, which had been tightly constricting your chest to prevent it from slipping down. 

Sukuna doesn’t need to tell you to get into the shower. You step in on your own, a contented sigh escaping your lips as the warm water cascades over your body, washing away the remnants of the night. Sukuna exits the bathroom, leaving the door ajar. He would never admit it openly, but he’s worried about you slipping in the shower, knowing how unsteady you are currently.

While you shower, Sukuna busies himself with gathering clothes for you to sleep in. He shrugs as he picks up a pair of your underwear, deeming it comfortable enough based on its appearance alone. He doesn’t bother looking for a bra; he knows how much you despise them.  It’s impossible for him not to know, given that every time you visit him after work or school, the first thing you do after kissing him is complain about how your bra feels like it’s cutting you in half. Maybe you were a  bit dramatic, but your point was clear. 

 After selecting one of his shirts for you, he sits on the edge of his bed, eyes fixed on the open bathroom door, ears straining for any sign that something might be wrong. 

“Kuna,” your voice calls out from the bathroom, “I’m finished.” 

Sukuna surprises you with how swiftly he enters the bathroom, placing the clothes he gathered on the counter. The water from the shower is off, no longer creating the rhythmic hum of falling water, leaving the room in a hushed silence. You watch him move through the glass shower walls, feeling a sense of calm wash over you. 

“Cat got your tongue, Doll?” His voice teases as he grabs a fresh towel from the cupboard, opening the shower door. He dries you with practiced ease, his touch gentle yet efficient. Your brain can’t seem to register the fact that you’re standing bare before him, or perhaps it does, but the alcohol dulls your embarrassment. 

Sukuna wraps the towel around your torso, leading you out of the shower. He fetches the clothes from the counter, kneeling before you to help you step into your underwear. Your hands instinctively find his shoulders for balance as you clumsily navigate the process. 

A shiver runs through you when he takes away the towel, the cold air hitting your skin. You wrap your arms around yourself without a second thought.��

“Move ‘em” Sukuna orders. You comply, letting your arms fall away from your chest. He helps you put on the shirt, one of his, evident by its oversized fit. The hem ends at your mid-thigh, more like a nightgown than a shirt. 

You’re too busy inspecting the shirt to notice Sukuna approaching you with a wipe. It’s only when he tilts your head up by your jaw that you realize what he’s doing. 

“What are you doing?” you ask, watching his brows furrow in concentration as he wipes your face. 

“Removing the rest of your makeup,” he answers nonchalantly. “You’ll kill me if I let you go to sleep looking like a raccoon.” 

Your nose wrinkles in distaste at the comparison, but it doesn’t stop your heart from skipping a beat. He’s gentle. The man who wouldn’t hesitate to steal candy from a baby, is gentle. He listens to your complaints, even when it seems like he isn’t, and remembers them for the future. 

Sukuna freezes as he notices your quivering lips, his eyes widening slightly. He pulls the wipe away from your face, concern replacing his usual stoic expression. “Why are you going to cry, woman?” he asks, the pad of his thumb brushing against your bottom lip. 

You blink away the tears, shaking your head as you gently take the wipe from his hands, removing the remnants of your mascara. Tossing the wipe towards the trashcan, which you completely miss - something Sukuna will handle tomorrow - as he stands before the sink. 

With tired eyes, you watch him as the excitement and fuel from the alcohol dissipates, leaving you feeling as if the next time you close your eyes, you won’t be able to open them again. Sukuna holds out your toothbrush, waiting for you to start brushing before he stands behind you with a comb in hand. He gently runs the comb through your hair, and you watch him through the mirror, smiling as he frowns at each troublesome knot. 

Once he’s done, he steps back, allowing you to spit out the pasty foam. You smack your lips in distaste at the minty flavor coating your mouth. Sukuna places your toothbrush back where it belongs before he brushes his own teeth. You exit the bathroom, eager to go to sleep as Sukuna gets himself ready for bed. 

Lifting the covers, you flop onto the bed, face pressed against the pillow as you relax. You don’t move, even as the bed dips with Sukuna’s added weight. It’s only when he tuts that you shift your head in the pillow to look at him. He watches you with narrowed brows. 

“I think the least I deserve right now is being able to hold you while we sleep,” he complains, his lips set into a hard frown. 

An airy giggle escapes you as you scoot closer to him. No longer dressed, Sukuna is wearing only his boxers as his nighttime attire, something you’re used to at this point. Hooking a leg over his waist, he slots his own leg between yours. You sigh in contentment, your nose burying into the sip of his throat. One hand rests against his chest while the other buries itself under the pillow. 

A low sound rumbles from the back of Sukuna’s throat as his hand rubs your bare back after sneaking inside your shirt. His chin rests against your head. Even though it’s late, he can’t seem to find sleep until you do. The rhythmic sound of your breathing acts as a lullaby, beckoning him to close his and give in to the drowsiness he has been fighting since you texted him.

It didn’t matter where or how late it was, if it was you- he would always answer. Even if it means having to hold your hair back as you puke the next morning, snarling at him as he makes snide comments. Even if it means dealing with your shitty attitude from a pounding headache - he will always be there. 

-

Tag List (open):@kalulakunundrum , @fushipurro