#mortyvongola2-0 sacrificed series | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years ago

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Madara Uchiha x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, filthy filthy smut

Word Count: 6.6k

Warnings: too many to count, afab!reader, rough sex, vaginal fingering, dirty talk, the Uchiha breeding kink, creampie, unprotected sex, aphrodisiacs, Madara has a big dick Uchiha, blindfolds, hands are tied, stomach bulge, mating press, overstimulation, some temperature play, strong language

A/N: This monstrosity has way too many tags, forgive me if I didn't tag every kink. Honestly this was only supposed to have like, two kinks or so, but uh obviously that did not happen and I'm not sorry about it. If this one does well enough I plan on writing a Sacrificed for each of the founders trio, and if I feel the inspiration after that I could add other Naruto characters as well so, let me know if that's something you'd be interested in.

A HUGE thank you to @therantingfangirl for helping me edit this oversized self indulgence! She's the best you guys, I love her and you should send some love her way! This wouldn't have been out as quickly, and would've had many more typos lol, if not for her. So tell her thank you for me~

edit 7/30/22: WE NOW HAVE ART!! A biiiig huge thank you to the amazing @skydaddy01 for their incredible art. They did a fanfuckingtastic job creating god!Madara's appearance, especially with so little to go off of because I'm bad at asking for things. Seriously, go check them out, especially if you like the art~

Without further ado, enjoy Sacrificed (Sun)

Read it on AO3

Villagers scattered about, decorating homes and streets alike, preparing drums and costumes with jovial attitudes; the excitement was palpable. Most everyone looked forward to the Festival of the Sun, it was hard not to! The music, the ritual dancing, the offerings of food and wine to the gods as well as loved ones were certainly something to be excited about. The festivities themselves lasted for an entire week. It had to in order to entice him down from his place of rest. He was hard to excite, after all.

The Festival of the Sun is performed once a year before the cold season begins in order to plead with the sun god for protection from death during the upcoming frost. At the peak of the festivities, a living sacrifice is offered to the deity, but seldom does he come down. Most sacrifices come back without having even felt his presence, however throughout the history of the festival there were rare instances of his sacrifice being found dead at the end of the celebrations. The manner of death was always the same, burnt from the inside out. These instances came to be synonymous with having met him.

That fact made you, the sacrifice chosen for the upcoming celebrations, a bit nauseated. The idea of meeting the sun god made you nervous for many reasons; you were his devout follower, a young peasant chosen by the temple due to your dedication to your faith. At least, that’s what they told you when they notified you of your impending position. Your faith was well known in the village, you made the hike to his temple every two days without fail and prayed for hours in his sanctuary as well as volunteered to help clean the entirety of his temple.

His statues had always entranced you and you often wondered if that was what he really looked like. Was he really that tall and broad? Certainly awe inspiring if true. You’d run the soapy cloth along the carvings of his hair and close your eyes, guiltily pretending you were running your fingers through his majestic locks, it was so long, and the artist made it look so wild and untamed, giving his likeness a dangerous edge that made you bite your bottom lip. It would not be an exaggeration to say you were attracted to your god, or rather to the idea of him.

You had never met him or even heard his words as some priests had claimed to have heard. The high priest, the one who informed you of your role in the festivities, had said that your devotion moved the god and he had asked for you; that made you roll your eyes. As if the sun god himself would ask for you. The odd one, no family or friends, let alone a dating history, or anything of the sort that would catch the attention of anyone let alone such a powerful and incredible god. No matter, it would just mean another year without his appearance, though there is the possibility he’s so enraged by your presentation that he decides to burn you like the others.

He was not known for his mercy, after all. His lust for blood was legendary and his rivalry with the god of the forests still affects humanity despite their typically dormant state. Their battles have scored the earth and ruined oceans, much to the god of the sea’s displeasure. The temple texts state that the gods of forest and sun reawaken every century to continue their discourse. Were the previously killed sacrifices burned for his amusement or was he displeased with their appearance? Being burnt from the inside out at the hands of your beloved deity, was that your destined end?

As you contemplated your possible demise, the festival began. For the first three days your job was to stay in the temple. You were to pray all day, bathe in the ceremonial waters, and eat only the fruits provided. Each day the ceremonial drumming, which was performed as the sun began to set and would continue until sunrise, could be heard despite the temples stone walls. Their beat entrancing and familiar. It gave you something to look forward to as you prayed without response.

On the fourth day you weren’t allowed to eat anything, only drink a strangely viscus and milky liquid with no taste that left the core of your being feeling cold. The usual warm bath with citrus scents was replaced with the same cold and thick liquid you were forced to drink. Are they trying to give me a cold before they send me to my death? You thought as you shivered. The older priestesses were made to wash you, they rubbed the fluid into every part of your being. Maybe I’ll freeze before I’m burnt alive.

It was almost like a massage, the way the older women prepared you. The way they rubbed the fluid into the flesh of your breasts made you blush, and the blush only deepened when your sex was given the same amount of attention and pressure. You bit your lip and squeezed your eyes shut. The feeling was a bit unusual. Heat began to swirl in your center, and it helped you fight off the cold for the rest of the bath.

When you were brought out of the bath rolls of white and red silk were draped around your body in odd patterns. The material itself felt wonderful but they tied the red pieces around your arms and neck, while the white silk they used to bind your chest and cover your mound. It was an odd feeling, only being partially dressed and your abdomen being bare made you flush in embarrassment. They tied your hair back in a braid that was as long as your hair would allow, and they twisted the same type of red silk around it. You were not allowed to look at your own appearance and one of the women led you out of the temple without so much as a word.

Once outside you began to shiver again and your bare feet gracing the soft grass only made you feel colder. The breeze made goose flesh begin to rise along your skin and you wrapped your arms around yourself to try and keep warm. Sounds of the villagers enjoying the festival gave you something to focus on. What would you be doing, if you were not here? Enjoying some wine perhaps, dancing around the oversized fire that was lit in your god’s honor? Mmm maybe even enjoying a full plate of roast boar, your stomach grumbled at the thought.

A group of priests, including the high priest, emerged from the temple and began to lead you further to the west of the temple. On that side there was a trail. Most everyone knew of the trail, but it was not to be used by anyone but the blessed. It led up to the highest peak in the valley and at the top stood a temple made specifically to hold the sun god’s presence when he graced the earth.

The high priest ushered you onto the trail and began to walk in front of you, the others following behind. The entire hike up felt very stiff and uncomfortable, it made you more nervous than you already were. The high priest stopped, as did you, right before the doors to the sacred temple. It was much grander, the walls made of marble instead of stone with gold gilded doors and carvings of suns in the luxurious columns. A strong wind practically blew through you, and you wondered if you’d ever feel warm again. A quick glance around at the people meant to guide you made your stomach twist in knots. They all had such grave expressions. You wondered what was next and began to try to convey your question with your eyes but they refused look at you. “Um,” you began. “Excuse-“

A loud shout rang out from the village, the signal to start the drums. Startled, you glanced at the sky and saw that the sun had begun to set. The high priest turned and walked until he was right in front of you. He began to press a large flask of what looked to be the same viscous liquid into your hands while a different priest came behind you and began to tie a red ribbon made of the same silk tightly around your eyes. The cool material caused your heart to beat as hard as the drums. ��Drink this once the sun has fully set, there will be more inside, be sure to drink all of it throughout the next few days.”

Your breathing picked up. Someone, you weren’t sure who, began to tie your wrists together in front of you. “Do not attempt to look at him,” the high priest spoke again. “Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact. You may roam around the temple but do not leave it.” How did he expect you to roam without being able to see? “We will be back at the end of the festival to collect you, do as we say and as he says and you will survive,” he paused, “probably.”

You nodded nervously; you couldn’t see his face but could feel the sense of dread in the air. “Alright, let us begin.” Someone began to push you forward and you felt your bare feet touch the chilled marble, heard the large doors creak open, and felt the plush of a cushion as they sat you down on the floor. Once their touch left you, the sense of foreboding increased. When you heard the door slam shut you knew you were alone.

You could hear the high priest begin a prayer outside the door, though it was rather muffled, you pressed your fingers against each other, and you tried to calm your nerves by joining in on the prayer. “Allow your warmth to protect and guide me,” you muttered. After a moment’s hesitation you added, “and your cruelty to pass over me.” And altogether you ended the prayer with an ‘amen’ though yours felt a tad more strained.

Through the blindfold you could make out vague shapes thanks to the small amounts of light; but that was all you could see, and once the sun set you would essentially be blind. You stayed seated for a time and fiddled with the flask that you had been given. The wrappings around your wrists weren’t painful or too constricting but they did limit what you could do. How were you supposed to stay like this for four nights and three days? “Where even is the restroom?” You glanced around at the shapes that made up what you could see. “Do gods even use the restroom?”

After a few more minutes of fretting and shaking you decided to stand and try to figure out what was in the room. You placed your arms out in front of you. Your hands may have been bound but you were still able to grab a hold of things. The temperature of the temple was colder than the temperature outside, it was similar to the biting chill of the nights in the cold season. At this point you wondered if you were doomed to die from frostbite. The tips of your fingers scraped against the cold marble of the walls, and you continued to glide your hands along the carvings to guide you through the area. As your vision began to worsen you knew the sun was almost under the mountain.

Your fingers brushed against a metal decoration and you began to explore the piece to the best of your abilities. It felt like a throne, a large one, with a cushion made of the same type of silk that was draped around you. The size of the throne made it feel a bit more like a small loveseat, you couldn’t imagine it being too comfortable with all the surrounding metals. Beside the throne seemed to be a short table with a pitcher atop it. The pitcher was carved, and you could tell it was well crafted by running your fingers along the object. It felt much too light to be filled with anything, much to your chagrin. You had been hoping for a sip of real water.

While there was still a bit of sunlight left you decided to try to explore the center of the room a bit more. You walked cautiously from the throne to the middle of the area and saw a shadow that seemed to be a table or something similar. It was a bit tall to be a table and you placed your hands on it and felt that it was also made of a cold marble. There were no chairs around it and as your fingers brushed along the edges you felt that there were words engraved on it. You wondered if they were gilded with gold like the carvings on the outer columns had been. Slowly, you attempted to read what was engraved around the table. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood,” you muttered. “Well, that would be me.”

“Is that right?”

You flinched. That was not a voice you recognized. It was deep and alluring, with an inflection that sounded almost amused. The man’s voice had come from behind you, where you remembered the throne being. Cautiously, you turned toward where you thought the voice was coming from but immediately had to squeeze your eyes shut. All there was in that direction was a bright light, like the sun itself had come to rest in front of you. Wait, your breath caught in your throat. The sun itself?

“A-Are you perhaps-“

“Yes?”

You felt so hesitant. Your heart felt like it was going to pound out of your chest, the urge to drop down on your knees and bow was at the forefront of your mind. There was a warmth, an intense but welcome warmth, that began to move toward you. Your eyes were still closed tight; even behind the blindfold his brightness was too much. Like a warm breath it felt like his presence was closer, but you weren’t sure how close. Without much more thought, you gave into your urge and got down to your hands and knees with your head resting atop your extended arms on the floor. Even the floor felt warmer now than it had before his arrival. “My lord!”

“Hm, not quite as interesting as I was expecting.” He sounded so close, almost as if he was directly above you. “But not altogether unpleasant.”

Your skin began to tingle from the contrast in temperature. Hot and cold. Internally, you still felt like you were freezing but externally his presence had warmed everything to such a degree it felt like you might melt. Lightly, it felt like just the tips of his fingers, began to trial down your exposed spine, like he was counting vertebrae. Again, your bottom lip felt the sting of your teeth as your mind reeled at not only meeting but being touched by your god. The same god whose likeness you had thought of in some not so holy ways.

“Is it still too bright?”

“P-Pardon?”

“I understand that my presence tends to be overwhelming for human eyes, shall I dim myself?” He answered his own question, as the harsh biting against your eyelids seemed to lessen and instead of a sun his presence looked more like a group of brightly lit candles. It hurt still, but you were finally able to open your eyes. You wanted to look at him, wanted to take the blindfold off and gaze upon his glory but you kept your head down, afraid of the consequences of doing so. “Thank you for your consideration, my lord.”

“Still so polite,” his dry chuckle was like velvet in your ears. You shivered, but not from fear or temperature; you wanted to hear him speak more. The pleasing thought of having him order you around floated about in your mind. Warm, overly warm, fingers gripped your chin roughly and had you look up at the veiled view of his face. “I like how you’ve thought about me a lot better than the way you’re speaking to me now.”

Your heart hiccupped. Your thoughts of him!? You could feel the color drain from your face. All the unsavory thoughts you had about his image filtered through your mind at once. The few times you had touched yourself had also been to ideas of him. Would he kill you now for your blasphemous behavior? Was he aware of all of them? That rich chuckle continued to fill your ears, much more amused this time, and he turned your head from side to side as if in assessment of a product at the market. “Don’t be so nervous, child. You act like I’m going to burn you alive.”

You were pretty sure he might.

There were no details, but from his outline it seemed like the statue was rather accurate. His hair was long, spiked, and wild like the mane of a lion; his shoulders broad and perfectly set. He barely had a hold on your chin but the bits of his fingers you could feel felt strong, large, and overly warm. The high priest had told you not to look at him but maybe? Just a peek? “Can I remove the-“

“Do you want to go blind?”

“What?”

“Do you think you can stare directly at the sun without repercussions? You’ll go blind if you look at me with your naked eye.”

“Oh,” you pressed your lips together, your cheeks red with embarrassment. “Right, yes, that makes sense.”

“Eager to see your god, are we?”

You wanted to nod but refrained and he let go of your chin. “You haven’t finished the elixir yet.” He said it as a statement of fact and let out a sigh that sounded exasperated. The blood in your veins rushed at a dizzying pace and you felt panic begin to rise in your throat. Had you displeased him? Would he leave because of it? Anything but that.

“I hadn’t realized the time, please forgive-“ Wet warm lips pressed against yours midsentence. It was intense and hot, so very hot. One of his large hands grabbed the back of your head roughly, forcing you to tilt your head back and he tugged on the braid. The surprise made you flinch, and your mouth opened slightly, but it was enough for him. He began to force a liquid into your mouth from his. It was different from the others; it had a sweet taste to it that sat heavy in your center. The warmth of his lips felt like it might burn, but the cool of the liquid soothed it almost immediately. The contrast made you moan, and his tongue began to enter your mouth.

Your eyes squeezed shut and you began to feel turned on as his tongue caressed and pulled at your own. Were you allowed to kiss back? How was this supposed to work? Another noise escaped you as his tongue scraped against the roof of your mouth, slowly and with intent. You squeezed your thighs together in an attempt to calm down. He pulled away slowly, allowing his tongue to linger against yours in the space between you. The sun god chuckled once again, “That face is rather enticing.”

If only you could see what face it was. His touch left you and the warmth of his being began to dissipate. “Resting for so long can be quite boring,” he began, his voice sounded like it was back at the throne. When you opened your eyes you could see the light of his being further back, it seemed as if he was sitting on the golden décor. It almost looked like he was slouched, with one hand against the arm rest and his head on his fist, but that was just your assumption. You had no way of seeing the details of his form. “So, while we wait for the elixir to kick in, entertain me.”

Entertain? How? Should you ask? What if that angered him? He didn’t seem like the patient sort. You heard a sound similar to liquid filling a basin and saw him shift as it looked like he may be drinking. Your heart pounded in your ears in time with the beat of the drums that boom from below. Oh, was that it? At this point in the evening, for the festival, everyone would be dancing. Is that what he wanted? The dance was created for his worship, after all.

You stood on nervous legs, your hands still bound, and listened patiently to the beat. When you felt you had a good enough idea of the rhythm you began the dance. It was fast, continuously moving, with moves similar to dodging attacks in a spar. When the drum paused you twisted your spine and bent backward, almost hitting the sacrificial table behind you, and stretch your arms up behind your head to touch the cool marble. The stretch made you feel exposed. Your neck, abdomen, and legs were on full display. As the pause remained, so did your position. It was difficult, but the dance seemed to warm you up. You felt the flush travel across your body, and you began to feel rather thirsty. You resumed at the same time as the drums.

Everything seemed to disappear as the song continued. Your muscles began to loosen, your tension nonexistent, you completely forgot where you were or why you were even dancing in the first place. It was like you were hypnotized to follow the music. One foot out in front and the other behind, your hands pushed out in front almost like you were begging. Everything felt warm now, your breathing was labored from exertion. Much to your embarrassment, even your core felt a bit sticky. Your hair began to frame your face and you barely registered that the braid had come loose. “Keep dancing,” came his silken command. So, you did.

His approach was harder to feel this time, the difference in temperature not quite as stark, but when his hand caressed the side of your neck you gasped at the excess heat. “I didn’t say you could stop.”

Right, more dancing.

One of his hands remained at your neck, curling around it like a collar and restricting your movements. You couldn’t move away from him without feeling choked. His other hand slid down the length of your swaying curves, from the tops of your covered breasts to the dip of your hips where the white ribbon was tied. The heat was almost sweltering and the ache in your sex began to grow. He tugged and the silk around your waist began to slip away, creating static as it fell from your flesh.

You couldn’t help but stop, your senses now fully focused on your naked lower half. Without the cloth your arousal was even more obvious, its evidence sticking to your thighs. “I don’t like to repeat myself,” he growled so close to your ear. A shiver wracked your form, and you did your best to start moving again, but his hand inching toward your center made you lose your rhythm and your movements became awkward. His hot tongue began to lick a stripe along the red silk wrapped around your collar bone. His warm fingers began to stroke the plush flesh of your mound. A fresh wave of slick began to coat your labia.

“Mm,” you pressed your lips together. You felt like you were on fire. “My lord, please,” you whispered, not entirely sure what you were asking for.

“Tsk, you know my name. Say it.”

He was giving you permission to call him by name? His fingers trailed down and began to stroke the naked flesh of your sex. The amount of wetness made the sounds of his fingers vulgar as he moved them back and forth against the sensitive skin. Your head fell back, and you gasped, his warm fingers immediately zeroing in on your clit. The heat was overwhelming, adding extra stimulation to your already pulsing bud. Your core began to clench, and your hips reflexively bucked toward his hand. “Go on,” he chided. “Say the name of your god, tell him how badly you want him to finger you.”

Your vagina pulsed at the thought. Saying his real name was taboo in the temple, but he was giving you permission. It was impossible to think, his fingers sped up their assault. Only incoherent noises left your throat as your knees began to buckle. How were you this close already? The hand that was around your neck squeezed teasingly, cutting off your air flow temporarily, before moving down to support your lower back as your legs threatened to give out. Instinctively you reached out and tried to use his arm for support before immediately pulling your hands back. They burned, like you had touched a hot stove.

“Do not try to touch him, only he can initiate contact.” The high priest’s words rang out in your mind.

“Weren’t you warned pet?” His head leaned down to your burnt hands, his fingers not ceasing, and he licked along your palms as if to soothe them. The mixture of pain and pleasure only brought you closer to the edge and you began to buck your hips in earnest. Your pleasured noises began to grow into full moans as you approached your peak.

Quickly, without warning, he removed his fingers from your clit and unceremoniously thrust two inside of your entrance. It burned, the heat and the pain of the stretch, but it brought you over the edge anyway. He hadn’t even had to move his fingers and you were already clenching down on them. Tears welled in your eyes behind the blindfold, and you called out, “Ahh, Madara!”

“How cute,” he announced, his voice a note or two deeper, the arm that was supporting you was trembling. “So eager that you came just from having my fingers inside you?”

Madara began to move his fingers, slow and deliberate, making sure to scrape them against your walls and ensuring that pain accompanied the pleasure. He moved his mouth to your neck and tugged at the red ribbon, untying it with his teeth and exposing the rest of your body to his gaze. He began to scissor your entrance and you felt the tightness in your gut return. “Such a naughty human, touching yourself to the thought of your god. Did you think I wasn’t watching? Did you think I wouldn’t know?”

You felt like you were burning, and you heard the juices of your arousal splash against your skin. His thick fingers began to thrust quickly, and he brought his palm up to rub at your sensitive clit. A whine left your throat. He continued his verbal assault. “I watched you each and every time you called out to me with lust. I saw the way your greedy pussy swallowed one, then two, even three of your own fingers. But it was never enough, was it? You needed something else, needed these fingers to fill you.” He added a third finger and you had never felt so full. A cry of his name left your lips again and that rich chuckle of his vibrated through you. “Well how is it? Now that you have the real thing, is it satisfactory? Are you still feeling greedy?”

“It’s good,” you slurred in a drawn-out moan. His fingers began to push at your walls in opposing directions and you thought you might drool. “So so good.”

“Only good? Well, I guess I’ll have to try harder then.”

All three fingers curled at once and began to press on a specific part of your walls. Your breathing stopped, your body convulsed, your toes curled, and your vagina clenched like your life depended on it. His palm pressed hard against your abused bundle of nerves, and you came yet again. But this one was different, more intense, almost painful as it washed over every part of your being. You felt dizzy before you remembered to breathe. His hand kept moving but you were at your wits end. “Too much, ah,” you wanted to grab a hold of his arm but barely registered you would get burned again if you did. Your sex throbbed painfully. “Please lord Madara,” you pleaded. “It’s too much.”

The sun god removed his fingers slowly but made sure to keep supporting you. You watched as the vague light of his being seemed to lick a trail from his own palm down his arm and he moaned deeply as he followed the trail back up to his palm. He moved his hand away from his own mouth and brought his fingers to your lips. “Suck,” he commanded.

Your tongue poked out of your mouth shyly and you wrapped it around the three fingers hesitantly. A grunt left your throat as you tasted yourself on his digits. He shoved the three of them into your mouth, not willing to give you the chance to continue to do as you pleased. Obediently, you sucked. The heat from his fingers almost felt like they would burn your mouth too. Again, you wondered what he looked like in full detail. You gently scraped your teeth against the three digits. “Good pet,” he muttered and pressed the pads of his fingers down on your tongue. “Now, lay down on that table. I’m going to take my sacrifice.”

Madara removed his fingers and let go of you entirely. You stumbled, almost fell to your knees again as your support disappeared. Thanks to the light of his being you were able to see the shadows that made up the cold marble of said sacrificial table. As much as you tried to make your crawl a top it look sexy, you fumbled a few times. It was rather high, making it difficult to crawl onto, but your inability to be graceful didn’t seem to deter him as he was atop you the moment you fully laid down.

The sun god’s scorching lips graced yours once more and this time you tried to meet his tongue stroke for stroke. His impossibly warm palms enveloped your breasts and began to mold them to his liking, almost as if he was trying to change their shape to his hands. For the first time you felt his entire body as it pressed against you. His muscles were firm as they met your squishy flesh and the hardness of his arousal rubbed against your belly in interest. It leaked with precum and the thought of that being your doing gave you butterflies. Slowly he pulled away, he seemed to sit up for a second as you heard the sounds of a glass bottle opening. His own breathing sounded labored, but it paused as he began to gulp down whatever he had opened.

When he was seemingly satisfied, he pressed his lips to yours again, and much like the first kiss, forced the liquid down your throat. Some of it dribbled down the side of your mouth, being too much to swallow all at once, but it didn’t seem to bother him as he continued to aggressively explore your mouth. What surprised you was when he began to pour out the chilled liquid onto your overheated sex. Your back arched, the contrast in temperatures a shock to your system.

He threw the glass bottle away and it broke against the flooring with a loud crash. His thick fingers began to coat themselves in the fluid and started to scoop it into you. You groaned into his mouth. Madara kept pushing it in, forcing it as deep inside of you as his fingers would allow. It felt odd, his hands and your body heat slowly warmed the liquid as he pushed it inside. The god pulled away from the kiss with a loud breath. “No more games,” he announced and pulled his fingers away.

The sound of his slick fingers against his own flesh made you shiver. You wished you could see it, him fisting himself atop you. What a gorgeous sight that would be, it was almost worth the risk of going blind. Almost. He lined himself up with your entrance, one hand holding your tied wrists above your head and the other holding him in place. His tip felt large as it twitched impatiently against your hole. Anticipation made you hold your breath.

“I’m going to ruin you.”

He thrust in and your jaw dropped. Big, he was so big. You felt overstuffed, like there were six of his large fingers shoved inside. Madara pushed forward more, your walls spasming around the intrusion. He was too big; it was too much. You felt like you were going to break, like he’d split you in half. More of his shaft entered you and he groaned, his guiding hand now reaching up to grip your hip and push you further onto him. It felt like he had knocked the wind out of you as the tip of his penis hit your cervix. Surely that was it, he couldn’t go any further. “Pretty little thing, so fucked out already and I’ve barely even started,” he chuckled, his words strained. He brought the hand that was holding your wrists down to wipe your chin of drool that you hadn’t even realized was there. “You’re so wet,” he grunted and pulled his hips back before snapping them forward quickly. You grunted, the drag of his dick the best thing you had ever felt. “Behave and I might just reward you.”

He began to thrust in earnest, the mushroom head hitting against your cervix with each thrust in, like it was trying to bury itself deeper inside of you. Your back bowed and he forced your hips to meet his. You brought your hands up and began to grip at the edge of the marble table. Your white-knuckled grip the only thing keeping you grounded. He brought his unoccupied hand down to your left breast and began to thumb the nipple in time with his thrusts. The shlick shlick shlick sound of each drag against your insides made your toes curl once again. You felt the heavy weight of his balls hit against your perineum and the slick that was pushed out with every thrust leaked down onto the stone beneath.

The sun god was more vocal than you had expected, grunting with effort, and groaning when you clenched particularly hard around him. You licked your lips, your mouth felt dry from hanging open for so long. Your guts began to twist in knots again and you knew you would cum soon. In a rush of bravery, you brought your legs up and attempted to wrap them around his waist. Immediately, your flesh began to burn, and you set them back down. “What did I tell you?” He sounded strained and he moved his second hand to your other hip. “Behave.”

“I can’t-“ you cut yourself off with a moan, his shaft scraping just right against your g-spot and causing your climax to begin again. He hissed and you felt his hair tickle your stomach as he leaned forward and his grip on your hips tightened. You hoped he’d leave bruises.

“Fuck,” he sounded depraved, and you bit your bottom lip hard. His hips continued to push into you. “Your walls are trying so hard to milk me, is that what you want? Hm? You want me to breed you?”

“Uhn,” you couldn’t help but nod vigorously. Your mind so warped with pleasure that you’d do anything he asked. “Oh, Madara,” you groaned and bucked your hips against his grip.

“You want to carry my bastard,” his voice thick with arousal. His large hands pulled you further down on the table and he put both of your legs up around his shoulders. “Everyone will know it’s mine. They’ll all see your rounded belly and know that it’s the seed of their god growing inside of you.”

The new angle was intense, he bore heavily down onto your cervix with every thrust. He pushed your legs forward, putting them up by your shoulders, almost folding you in half, and pushed into your womb. You screamed. It was too much, an intense mix of pain and pleasure that had your nerves confused. “Feel me reach the deepest parts of you,” he grunted. Madara grabbed your tied wrists and brought your hand down to your folded stomach. He made your hands press against your lower belly where you felt the outline of him inside of you. The extra pressure added more feeling and you whined. “I’m going to fill that pretty little womb of yours.”

His thrusts quickened, becoming bruising and focused. You kept your hand where he placed it and felt his bulge as it moved in and out of you. Your head moved back and through your lust filled haze you noticed that the edges of the blindfold had loosened. If you moved a bit more maybe it would come off? Madara moved one of his hands inward and began to stroke at your clit quickly. His pace becoming uneven as his breathing sped up. “You were fucking made for this,” he groaned out. “Made to take me, to be folded in half and fucked stupid.”

“Yes, yes, yes,” you cried out and moved your head to the side. The silk slipped off of your eyes and you kept them closed as you tried to ignore the need to look at him. He felt so good, so brutal. Your clit throbbed and your core clenched for the fourth time. This was it, the most intense orgasm you’d have possibly ever. You wanted to look at him, to gaze upon his glorious face as you came undone. “Madara, please,” you began, your voice keening at the end. “Look at me.”

You opened your eyes just in time to see him look into yours. He was gorgeous, his dark hair wild and strung about him in a halo of black, his naked flesh flushed pink with exertion, his eyes so dark they looked like they would swallow you whole. His muscles rippled as he fucked you open, the lines under his eyes crinkling as his lips tightened in a smirk. Madara whispered your name and gave one more strong thrust before you squeezed your eyes tight in ecstasy. “Such a bad girl,” he taunted.

This orgasm was unlike any other before, your entire being felt tingly and a different kind of pressure built in your sex. When that pressure released a large burst of clear liquid gushed from you and your eyes rolled into the back of your head. Your legs shook, your walls trembled, and you barely heard Madara’s own grunt of release as he poured his molten semen into your womb. Your everything trembled and you felt like you might melt into the table below you. Your vision went from white to black and you felt your consciousness begin to fade.

“You may rest for now,” his voice sounded so distant in your mind. “We’ll resume shortly.”

When you woke next, you felt so disoriented. Your eyes were open, but everything was hazy, you felt like you were sitting on something hard but comfortable and you lifted your head to try and see where you were. “It took you long enough, pet,” came Madara’s silky voice from behind you. His chest pressed to your back and his arms pressed you further against him. “We still have three more nights of fun to get to.”

A/N: Again, this amazing art contribution was made by the one and only @skydaddy01 please go check them out and send them a huge thank you from me! Madara looks incredible, doesn't he? Uhg I can't stop looking at this art.

Part Two

Hashirama||Tobirama

Season 2

#mortyvongola2 fanfic #mortyvongola2 0 fic #madara uchiha smut #madara smut #naruto series #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #madara x y/n #madara x you #madara uchiha x reader #madara x reader #gods and mortals au #tribute to the gods au #mortyvongola2-0 sacrificed series

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years ago

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Hasirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, dirty smut

Word Count: 7.8k

Warnings: afab!reader, rough sex, vaginal sex, dirty talk, oral sex female receiving, creampie, unprotected sex, aphrodisiacs, praise kink, hung Hashirama, overstimulation, cum marking, kind of tentacles, no refractory period, Yandere Hashirama, strong language

A/N: This one took a bit longer than intended, for multiple reasons but I'm glad to finally have it out. I definitely wasn't expecting it to be this much longer than Madara's version but this did have a bit more plot going for it. Not that the plot is really all that important. As far as their personalities go I feel like god Madara would fuck anyone who moves and Hashirama would be too nice to be that way so there had to be a bit more build up.

Another HUGE thank you to the incredible, wonderful, amazing, genius @therantingfangirl for helping me edit and refine this one and for being the bestest of best friends. I really love her, she's an incredible writer, and if you guys liked my Madara Sacrificed then you should check out her Madara mirror fic. Its awesome.

And a huge thank you to all of you for showing Sacrificed so much love! I only hope this one pleases you all just as much!

Without further ado, please enjoy Sacrificed (Forest)

Read it on AO3

It was hot that day, the sun boiling and bearing down on you like it intended to kill you. Heh, maybe the sun god is mad at me, you thought, a snicker leaving you at the thought. You didn’t believe in the gods, didn’t need to. And why would you? They hadn’t done anything worth believing in, after all. Your village in particular had an obsession with the god of the forests. He had one large statue in the village center, and another two that guard the entrance to the forest surrounding the village; most people placed their offerings before those specific statues.

You wondered why; it wasn’t like there were any fantastical stories about him that you had heard. As far as you were aware he hadn’t done anything to merit such reverence, though there was the legend of his rivalry with the god of sun, but you didn’t find that particularly interesting either. What did interest you was science, medicine, those sorts of things. The villagers often called you a quack, but they did it endearingly. Afterall, without you, there would be no one to tend to the wounded. The original clinician had retired as soon as he thought you were good enough to take over. And you were damn good.

Be it morning or night, you catered to anyone in need, only closing the clinic two days a week but still making exceptions for emergencies. On days where you closed the clinic you went into the forest and nearby mountain to gather herbs for medicine. You loved the forest and all it had to offer. If you could spend all of your time there, you would. You took a deep, relaxing breath in and released it with ease.

“Woah!” You fell, your hands and knees hitting the ground first. There was a mild sting, and you clicked your tongue in annoyance. After standing and brushing the dirt off, you turned to see what your foot had gotten caught on. It looked to be a root, a long one that came from the direction you knew to be a small lake. “The end of a root,” you muttered to yourself. It looked unique and thin, odd for the flora you knew to grow here. “Hmm,” you scratched at the side of your head as you contemplated what to do. “Well, no harm in checking, right? Maybe its something I can use.”

Following the roots trail, you noticed more roots, almost identical in size and color. They all seemed to be from the same plant. “This has got to be one big tree,” you muttered. You picked up your pace, running in your eagerness to sate your curiosity. “How have I not seen it before?”

The sound of the lake reached your ears and when you finally saw the clear waters you paused to catch your breath. As you attempted to refill your lungs, you glanced around for any odd-looking plants, big ones, but the only unusual thing you saw was a large bundle of those roots. Carefully, still a bit out of breath, you made your way over to said roots. “How does this happen?” You crouched down to try and get a look at it from all angles. It looked almost like a cocoon. Puzzled, you stood back up and placed your hands on your hips. “Should I cut some of it?”

You reached into your satchel and pulled out the hunting knife you had for cutting tough plants and in the rare instance of wild animal attacks. “Sorry, I’ll only cut a little,” you apologized to the plant as you knelt and began to cut out a small section of the roots. They were tough, taking quite a bit of effort to saw through, but you were finally able to break off a length that was satisfactory. It oozed a golden sap, almost the same consistency as blood. It was a bit off putting. You glanced back at the hole you had created only to be completely taken aback. “Is that a hand,” you exclaimed. You reached in and touched the tan hand; it was large and dwarfed yours, but it was cold. You gasped, “A dead body?”

Thankfully you were able to manipulate the hand enough to reach the wrist and feel for a pulse. Your heart pounded in your chest. Please be a pulse, please be a pulse, please, please, plea- there it was. A weak but still there thud against your fingers. “I’m going to get you out of there, just hold on.”

Letting go of the hand, you began to hack away at the roots, adrenaline fueling you. You were going to save them, you had to. Your role as a caregiver wouldn’t let you abandon this task. It took a lot out of you, and you were covered in the strange golden sap by the time you were done, but you had made a hole large enough to drag the man out. He was also covered in the golden sap, and it almost looked like it was leaking from the wounds he was covered in. His long black hair was matted and caked, his masculine face bruised, and his jaw misaligned. As you struggled to drag him out of the roots more and more injuries began to show themselves. “Shit,” you grunted with effort. You usually weren’t one to curse. “Shit, shit, shit!”

You felt a bit overwhelmed, definitely under prepared. You had some of herbs that you had collected earlier, your eyes looked back and forth for a vessel to use to mix the medicine and make a paste. “I’m sorry sir, I’m going to have to undress you. I hope you understand,” you told him. You began with his armor; it was unlike any armor you’d seen before. A warrior maybe? It was strong and well made. Great, some rich guy. After his armor was removed, albeit not intact, you looked around to try and get a better idea of his wounds, however that golden sap wasn’t giving you a clear idea.

Picking the knife back up you began to tear through his black shirt. His chest was in as bad shape as his face, but that golden sap had soaked through to his skin. You tore the left sleeve off your shirt and made sure he was in a comfortable position before quickly walking up to the lake and soaking the impromptu cloth. “I will save you,” you promised, more to yourself than anyone else.

As the sun began to set you were finally finished with his first aide treatment. You sat with your back leaned against a tree trunk and his head resting in your lap as the adrenaline finally wore off. With your eyes closed you sighed and carded your fingers through his hair, attempting to untangle the matts and twigs in it. “I’m sorry if this is a bit too intimate for you,” you whispered to the unconscious man. “But I have nothing better to do while we wait for the village’s watchmen to come and find us.”

His black tresses gave way to your fingers easily, and the action reminded you of how your mother used to comb her fingers through your own hair. You smiled softly and began to sing the same tune that she had taught you. The birds chirped and everything was peaceful for a moment, but as the sun went down the horizon you grew concerned about the dangers the forest had to offer at night. “You have such a lovely voice.”

You jolted in surprise and looked down at the man you’d just spent hours bringing from the brink of death. He shouldn’t be conscious yet, let alone smiling up at you so carefree. “You,” you began, hesitant. “How are you-“

“I’m a fast healer,” he cut you off, and even began to sit up. You panicked.

“No! Don’t sit up!”

“Why? I’m fine,” he said easily. He pulled off some of the bandages you had placed on his chest, the bandages were made from torn pieces of your dress. The man glanced down curiously at the goo that coated the cloth and brought it to his nose. “Mm, echinacea, excellent idea.”

You were completely dumbfounded. The cuts along his chest now just mere bruises and closed scars. “How is that possible?” He let out a laugh, lighthearted. He turned back to face you, his dark eyes full of life and mirth. Heat began to creep up from your neck to your ears. He was so handsome, even covered in dirt, golden sap, and half-assed bandages. His smile was arm and one of his big hands reached out and caressed your cheek gently. “What are you?”

“I’m Hashirama,” he responded softly. “And you?”

Before you could tell him your name, it was shouted. You turned to look in the direction of the voices, Hashirama’s hand still connected with your cheek. The watchmen, you thought. As you opened your mouth to respond to your fellow villagers, that warm hand moved to cover your mouth; you looked back at him, fright contorting your face. Using his other hand he placed a single finger to his lips, signaling for you to remain silent. “Wait until I leave, then you may go.”

Was he a rogue of some sort? You nodded your head; his smile was a bit more strained. “Don’t tell them you saw me.”

He removed his palm from your lips and stood to his full height, he offered a hand to help you up as well. Hashirama was tall and broad, much larger than you. As you stood you watched him warily and he gave a small wave. “Goodbye for now,” he said before jumping up, high up, and away. You were left stunned and confused.

A few weeks later found you back in the forest, humming along as you collected your weekly supply of herbs. Since that incident, you hadn’t seen hide nor tail of Hashirama. It was a shame really, despite his oddities and unexplained origins you found yourself rather attracted to his toned muscles and bright smile. Unconsciously, you smiled just thinking about him.

You had kept some of the cut ruts and golden sap for analyses but hadn’t found anything that would explain what you saw. The only thing you had discovered was that the golden sap had reactions that were identical to blood. It congealed over time but stayed liquid with the assistance of specific herbs. The similarities in consistency had been one of the first things you noticed. It both scared and intrigued you. You wondered what type of plants bled? Were there other trees that had the same golden sap? Maybe I should go back and- “Oh! It’s you again!”

“Ah!” You jumped, Hashirama’s deep voice startling you. He was squatting down in front of you, blinking at your startled face like he wasn’t the reason for it. “Hashirama,” you started softly. Had you been so focused on your thoughts that you hadn’t noticed him?

“You remembered my name,” he said excitedly.

“Of course I did. How many strange men do you think I meet in the woods?”

He placed a hand to his chin and acted like he was giving it some thought. “Maybe two?”

“No, only you,” you responded dryly.

“Ah,” he responded, a sultry smirk molding his full lips. His voice seemed a touch deeper as he said, “I’m honored.”

Your face felt hot, and you looked away from him and back to the plants in front of you. His looks are dangerous, you thought. “Who are you, really?”

“I told you, I’m Hashirama.”

“You’re not going to tell me anymore, are you?” You paused, giving him time to respond. When he didn’t you sighed and looked back at him warily. “Will you at least tell me if you’re some kind of criminal?”

“And if I am? Will you turn me in?” A tease.

“Yes,” you said back with a huff. “I could use the money.”

“Oh,” he muttered, his entire continence crumbling. His head was down between his knees, which had been brought up to his chest, even the air around him seemed to exude sadness. You stared at him for a few seconds before laughter began to bubble through you. He looks like a pouting kid! He sniffled and sunk further into his depressed position. “And now you’re laughing at me.”

“Sorry, sorry!” You giggled uncontrollably, one of your hands at your mouth while the other you placed on his tanned hand. “I won’t turn you in, don’t worry.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” With that he sprung back up, bright smile back; that only made you laugh harder.

Every week after that you’d continue your trips to the forest, and every time he’d find you. It became a routine, your time with him full of laughter and learning. Hashirama knew so much about plants and medicine, he told you things that you had never heard of, let alone thought to try. He told you what worked best for illness, what worked best for injury, herbs to strengthen constitution, and so much more. He was an untapped wealth of knowledge and you hung on his every word.

He seemed just as excited to see you as you did him every time the two of you met. He’d ask you mundane questions, like how you grew up and the things you liked. Hashirama seemed rather impressed when you told him about your position as the village clinician. He understood the weight your position as a woman carried, and it was almost inevitable that you’d develop feelings for him. And the more time you spent with him the deeper your feelings went.

You had invited Hashirama to stay in the village with you, many times, but he refused. It hurt a bit, though your head knew the difference your heart treated it like he was rejecting you. You had no idea how he felt about you, other than he liked to talk with you. He never gave any inclination about reciprocating your feelings and the longer you spent with him the more that stung. Should I give up? You thought. He’s just some wanted criminal anyway, right? I should just move on and marry someone from the village. But then you’d see him, his large smile causing crinkles under his eyes, his warm hands squeezing yours tightly as he led you excitedly to some new tree, and all your resolve to forget about him would crumble.

“Is something wrong?”

“No,” you responded, not quite meeting his dark eyes. He was swimming in the lake. The man was trying to kill you, you were sure. His torso bare, the water making his momohiki cling to his lower body, his dark hair stuck to his face, neck, and back. Definitely trying to kill me. You gulped and began to look at some of the lake’s smooth stones. “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Hm,” he tilted his head to the side, leaning on a rock close to the edge of the water. “If you’re willing to talk, I’ll listen.”

If only I could. Another sigh escaped you before you formed an idea. Maybe? “Well, lately I’ve had a few men try to court me.”

“Oh?”

“They’re not ideal, but I am passed marriageable age. I’m wondering if I should accept them or not.” Your heart pounded in your chest. Would he take the bait? You chanced a glance in his direction, but he was still smiling, it looked a bit smaller, a bit tighter, but other than that there was no difference. Your heart sunk. Right, you thought. How could I be so stupid.

Four weeks after that meeting, and things had begun to change in the village. There was a large increase in sick villagers visiting your clinic. You were so busy you hadn’t had the chance to see Hashirama since then. Many were beginning to show signs of malnutrition, especially the children. “Wasn’t our harvest good? What’s changed?”

“We haven’t been able to hunt in weeks, and our crops have all but died,” the village leader responded. You looked at him, puzzled.

“What do you mean?”

“It’s the god of the forests,” another elder suggested. “He’s angry with us, we must placate him immediately.”

“Shall we give him more offerings?” Another asked.

You clenched your fists. “Enough with the gods, we need to do something about this quickly.”

“We will give our food reserves to the children first,” the leader decided. “And if this continues the women will come next. If we continue to lack in supplies, I will contact other villages for help.”

But the food shortage continued, and you hardly had enough supplies to feed yourself, let alone your patients. You began to chew on appetite suppressing plants to push past the hunger. “Make way! We have wounded!”

You ran out of your clinic, toward the commotion. Four of the village’s best hunters lay incapacitated, carried toward you by their injured companions. “What happened?”

“It’s the forest,” one called, a look of terror on his face. “It attacked us as we tried to get in!”

The other villagers began to whisper, “If we can’t hunt then we’re doomed!”, “What have we done to offend the gods so?”, “What do we do now?”.

Shit, you thought, leaf hanging from your lips. What can we do?

Everything was starting to fall apart. You had gone to the forest entrance to see what the hunters were talking about, and just like they said the trees pushed their branches together to force you from getting in. You tried another not so public entrance and met the same resistance. One of the trees had even cut your shoulder. “Shit,” you muttered under your breath. You were low on supplies, low on food, and Hashirama was still in the forest as far as you knew. You couldn’t imagine he’d be better off. “Hashirama,” you called out into the trees. “Please be okay.”

When the situation seemed dire, the village leader ordered a meeting. With all in attendance, he claimed to have a solution to all the suffering. “We will offer our gracious deity a sacrifice,” he announced. “A sacrifice of flesh and blood. One of our own.”

Outrage began to spill from the villagers’ lips. How can we stoop so low? “Silence,” called an elder. “At dusk we will give our offering. This will bring everything back to how it should be.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Please don’t choose my daughter, please not my daughter!”

“Can’t we just leave for another village?”

“You’re asking for too much!”

But the ones in charge weren’t listening to any of the back talk. The village leader’s eyes met yours, and a chill went down your spine. His gaze lingered a bit too long for your liking before he looked away. “Everyone go home and stay there, we will get the sacrifice when its time. While you wait, pray. That is all that can be done now.”

As soon as you got back to your home you began to pace. You had a sinking feeling that you were the one that was about to be sacrificed. But that would be ridiculous, you were the village’s only healer. Getting rid of you would bring far more harm than good. But your mind kept going back to that stare, to the way the village leader’s eyes held yours is if he was sorry, like you were some creature to be pitied. A swift knock at your door all but confirmed your suspicions, and when you opened the door, you felt like throwing up.

“We’re sorry dear,” said the leader’s wife. The two women beside her kept their heads down as if ashamed. “But we’ve come to prepare you for the sacrifice.”

“Shit,” came your breathless reply.

All three were the wives of the heads of the village, all three kind souls who had wanted nothing but the best for you growing up. Your heart pounded as they took their time in grooming you. They bathed you in warmed water, poured expensive oils onto your skin, combed your hair, and decorated it with gold decorations made to look like flowers, and painted your lips with red dyes. The clothing they dressed you in could hardly be called clothing. The material was expensive and white, but sheer. The top stopped just below your breasts and the bottoms were a skirt that showed much more than it covered. “No wrappings?” You asked, hoping against hope for some coverage. They shook their heads.

“Before we go dear, please, eat this.”

“But this is-“ Ginseng, and in this context it was hard not remember its aphrodisiacal qualities. The eldest woman just placed her hand on your shoulder, her face only displayed pity. You ate the ginseng without another word. It tasted different from normal ginseng, it could’ve been your hunger talking, but it tasted much, much, sweeter; like the sweetness would melt you from the inside. A band of gold was placed around your waist and sandals of a similar color were placed on your feet with care.

“Alright,” the eldest said, a dour look on her face. “That’s everything,” she paused and pressed her lips together. She approached you, leaned on her tip toes, and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. You felt like you wanted to cry. “Please, come back safely.”

The bitterness of betrayal settled on your tongue. Come back? You thought, the idea of it giving you mixed feelings. After being abandoned like this would I even want to come back?

Like a funeral procession, the village leader’s and their wives, were all silent with grave faces as they lead you to the main entrance to the forest. You looked up at the two statues, their faces eroded by time, and suddenly they felt a lot more foreboding. You didn’t believe in the gods, but you do know that something strange was going on in those woods. Would it even let you in this time?

As the trees seemed to part their branches to allow your entry, you began to form a plan. I’ll find Hashirama and we’ll run away, you nodded to yourself. Find Hashirama, run away, easy as that. It’ll be fine. You took a sharp breath in as you saw the state of the woods. It had been once been so bright, with animals and insects making constant noise, but at that moment all you heard was the wind rustling leaves. The flora looked so wilted, like they were on the brink of death. “Please, accept our humble offering,” the leader said. They all bowed, and you felt like you were on a precipice.

No matter what you did, your next step would change everything. If you ran back into the village, even if the villagers didn’t become upset with you, they were still doomed without food and medicine; if you stepped into the forest that you used to make you feel at ease, there was no telling what would happen. You squeezed your eyes shut; your heart felt like it was being split in two. The best choice is probably to just run away. But there he was again, his overly cheerful smile flashing through your mind, and a sigh left your lips as you made up your mind. “Always coming to your rescue,” you muttered, beginning to walk forward.

The path was different, the sky was dark, the trees had blocked the entrance behind you. Everything about this made your skin crawl. You had no idea what part of the forest you had been led to, but you could see the shadow of a manmade structure. As you approached, rain began to fall. It drizzled at first, gave you a minute to look at the odd building before you had to run inside due to a downpour.

It looked to be a forgotten temple of sorts. A large building covered in vines and weeds that were decaying with the rest of the woods. The walls and columns which you believed to once be pristine and white were dyed yellow with wear and hunks of stone missing. The inside was largely the same, though there were two large skylights which you were sure were beautiful with moonlight, but they also allowed the downpour to follow you inside. Between the two skylights in the center of the room was a raised table, a large decorative throne a ways behind it and against the backwall. You wrapped your arms around yourself as you walked toward the throne what little clothing you were wearing was soaked through and clung to your skin, it embarrassed you how visible your breasts were.

“Well, this is just great,” you grumbled, pulling the golden decorations from your wet hair. You placed them on a raised table at the rooms center. The rain continued to pour, and you stared down at puddles on the floor you’d have to walk through. “Whoever designed this place really wasn’t thinking.”

There were no visible decorations, only visible distress. How long has this been here? You wondered if it was as old as the village itself. The water had ruined the lovely sandals you wore so you took them off and placed them beside the throne, your bare feet made audible smacks as they walked through the water. After brushing off some dust and vines, not very well, you sat on the throne.

“You’re here!”

You perked up at that voice, its’ baritone echoing even over the sounds of the downpour. “Hashirama,” you called back and stood. “Thank the gods you’re alive.”

“Of course I am,” he responded as he made his approach. The man looked the same as he always did, which was both relieving and distressing. It had been over a month of starvation, illness, and injury for your village, and yet he didn’t show any visible signs of suffering the same ailments. “I am suffering though.”

“Really?” You met him halfway and placed your hands on his face, clinician mindset taking over. His smile softened as he closed his eyes and nodded. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen you,” his tone was teasing. “How could I not suffer?”

“Don’t joke around like that.”

“But I’m serious.” Hashirama wrapped his warm hands around your still wet forearms. You tilted your head to the side. How had you not noticed he was dry? “Not being able to see you was upsetting.”

You had forgotten your state of dress until you watched his eyes look you up and down, his pupils dilated in obvious arousal, and you had to look away. In attempts to cover yourself, you tried to pull your hands away from his face but his grip on your arms was too strong. “Please,” you pleaded, keeping your gaze at his chest to avoid watching those dark eyes devour you. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Why?” Hashirama pulled you closer, he brought your left wrist up to his lips and began to kiss a slow trail down your arm. “You look mouthwatering.”

Weakly you tried to pull away, but it was more of an instinct than anything. His attentions were what you had craved for almost as long as you knew him. Your breath hiccupped as he nibbled at your pulse, his other arm reached behind you to circle the gold band on your waist. “How could I resist such a beautiful offering?”

“Offering?” Your eyelashes fluttered, partially distracted by the tan hand that had began to creep toward your rear. “What do you mean?”

He pressed you further to him, his body almost flush against yours. Your torso was leaned back, reluctant to let your sensitive breasts rub against his armored chest. “Your village offered you to me in order to regain access to the forest.”

You furrowed your brow. “They said that I was a sacrifice for their imaginary forest god.”

Hashirama lifted his lips from your skin to look back at you with a pout. “I’m not imaginary.”

A beat, then two, then three, before your brain finally began working again. Your voice was hesitant, a bit strained as you asked, “What?”

He blinked at you a few times before his eyes widened in surprise, “You didn’t know? But I told you when we first met.”

“No, you didn’t,” you retorted, your nerves building, not quite sure how to handle the new information.

“I told you my name.”

“Yeah, but that was it. You said Hashirama, not Hashirama god of the forests!”

“The village you come from has been loyal to me for centuries.” The black-haired man seemed to refocus on your body, he placed the arm he had been showing affection on over his shoulders and moved both hands to grab your ass. You yelped and wrapped your legs around his hips, he held you up with ease. “A god’s name is an invaluable part of the teachings. I am the only one allowed to be called Hashirama.”

Closing your eyes, you thought back to when you were younger and tried to remember ever hearing that name, but your mind quickly went blank as he leaned his head forward and began to place sloppy kisses against your neck. The movement caused your skirt to raise up, bearing your sex against his clothed erection. A gasp tore through you. “Ah, you’re driving me mad.”

Your brain tried to rationalize it, alright even if he has the title it doesn’t mean he’s actually a god. Hashirama licked a stripe along the column of your neck, and you shivered, your hands gripped at his shoulders before moving to wrap around his neck and comb through his hair. “I still don’t believe in the gods,” you muttered breathlessly, his hands tightened their grip on the flesh of your ass.

He straightened his neck and smirked at you. His dark eyes filled with lust and confidence. A strange texture brushed against your legs before gripping your ankles with immense strength. You clung to Hashirama’s neck like your life depended on it, “W-What is that?”

“Relax,” he shushed you. The things began to pull your legs apart, removing them from his hips. Similar things wrapped around your wrists, but these you could see. They looked almost like vines, but with a more wooden texture, like the roots that he had been wrapped in the day you met. As the roots began to remove your arms from his neck you looked at him in a panic, he shushed you gently. The roots at your ankles rose you as the ones on your wrists suspended you, your arms above your head. He took your chin in his hand gently and whispered, “They’re apart of me, there’s no need to worry.”

His plush lips pressed against yours and you groaned. His tongue immediately sought entrance and you obliged. You moaned as he slid it against yours, he allowed you to take the lead after that. With ease he allowed your tongue to explore his mouth, he tasted like herbs, fresh and crisp with a hint of bitterness. Hashirama’s hands moved along your body, ghost like touches all along your frame. The tips of his index fingers pressed against your clothed nipples before he rubbed them in circular motions.

A grunt left your mouth and he swallowed it. Your nipples pebbled under his touch, and he began to palm at the full weight of your breasts as he pulled away. “Your breasts are so perfect,” he groaned. The roots on your ankles began to spread your legs further apart and he brought his thigh up to place against your heated core. “So pretty, spread and at my mercy. I’ve wanted to have you like this since I first laid eyes on you.”

The roots around your raised wrists pushed you down and onto his thick thigh. You ground down on it unconsciously, the promise of stimulation too great to resist. “Are you getting impatient, dear? Sorry, I’ll take better care of you.”

Hashirama ripped the wet cloth from your breasts, the fabric tattered as it fell open and hung by its sleeves. That had startled you. He began sucking and licking at your neck again, making sure to nibble at the places that made your breath hitch. His right hand continued to tease your breast. That left hand, though, began to trail downward. It fiddled with the golden band, “I like it, like a handle,” he muttered against your skin. Handle?! His left hand finally reached your thigh and began to creep inward toward your wet sex. The body heat from his hand brought anticipation with it. He gently touched your outer labia, his thigh moving away for a moment, you let out a soft moan.

His deft fingers began to spread one side of your outer lips and then the roots pulled you back down to his thigh. You squeaked. The friction was more intense, the cloth rubbing against your clit almost painfully. “Ha-Hashirama,” you panted. The dark-haired man kissed his way to your neglected breast and flicked the hardened nipple with his tongue. Another flick, again, only after you whined did he wrap his lips around the abused fresh and you almost sighed in relief.

Another root seemed to make its way up your leg and slipped between your slick folds and the forest god’s thigh. “Ah! Too much,” you cried, the feeling of the root alien to you. It was very textured, groves and abnormal lumps, a tapered tip, and you could feel every bit of it. It slid against you, your fluids more than enough to give it easy passage. The tip pressed against your already throbbing bud with each thrust forward, and his thigh only pushed it further against you.

You wished you could grab a hold of him, dig your nails into his tanned flesh as he made you cum in such an abnormal way. The knot in your stomach tightened, his mouth switched breasts, and his right hand gripped your hip and began to make you rock against the assault on your sex. “That’s it, pretty thing, let go. Soak my thigh,” he said after he pulled away from your skin, his voice deep and a bit hoarse. One more hit from that tapered root tip and you were coming undone, groaning as you did so.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised, the roots began to lower you, his hands coming up to take you from them gently. “Do you think you can go over to that table there? I’ll be right behind you.”

“Uh-huh,” you nodded, your legs felt like jelly. He chuckled and kissed your forehead before giving you a push in that direction. You stumbled but righted yourself and slowly made your way. The table was wet from the rain that had seemed to stop, it was cold, but you wanted to sit down. The table was slippery, your hair decorations still rested on the edge, the moist chill of the stone felt like a balm against your recovering sex. But you weren’t ready to be done and as you watched Hashirama’s naked form approach you, you clenched your thighs.

He was gorgeous, you had always thought so. The warm color of his, the toned muscles along his arms and pecks, even his abs were well defined. Your eyes drank in the sharp v of his hips as it led into a patch of curly black and a rather generous erection. His cock was long and thick with a delicious curve. Hashirama seemed rather proud of your attentions. His approach was slow with and with intention, when he reached you, he placed his arms on either side of you before his lips fell to yours once again.

This kiss was different, slower, but his twitching cock gave away his excitement. It was strange if you thought about it, you were being extremely intimate with a god, who’s abilities you doubted until he literally all but fucked you with them, and who you hadn’t believed in until the tryst began. But there was no time to think with his tongue back in your mouth and moving toward your throat. Your arousal drove you as you began to run your hands through his hair, down his back- he shivered at your light scratches. His hands moved, one rubbing the gold band again and the other boldly touching at your soaked folds. His pecks had the perfect amount of firmness, you liked squeezing them, and his abs quivered under your touch.

He broke the kiss again, his hand retreating from the apex of your thighs, you would have been embarrassed by the sticky trail that followed his fingers if Hashirama hadn’t looked so pleased. “Can I taste you?” You thought he meant his fingers, so you nodded, but when he knelt and spread your knees you were glad that hadn’t been what he meant.

The dark-haired man licked one long stripe along your lower lips before pushing your legs further apart to lap at your entrance. It felt like heaven. His tongue moved in opposite manners, started bottom to top then on the next lap it was top to bottom. He kissed your clit before sucking on it, your hips bucked automatically. His fingers came back and began to rub that bundle of nerves after his lips left it in favor of tonguing at your entrance. Your fingers went to his head, gripping his long tresses with urgency as you began to wholeheartedly ride his face. Hashirama groaned as you did, his tongue wriggling against your walls and driving you to the edge of sanity.

“Ha-Hashi,” you finish, your voice raising in pitch as your orgasm approached yet again. His fingers began to rub your clit faster, going back and forth as opposed to the circular motions they originally were. The noises that were coming from his mouth were debauched. He was groaning and moaning, almost as much as you were, his vigor like that of a man starved. Your fingers tightened in his hair, you would have worried that you were pulling too hard had your peak not hit you. “Mmm,” you whined, your eyes tearing up. Your hips kept moving, as did his tongue and fingers, and you rode out your orgasm until it hurt.

“Stop,” you begged softly. “Please, please, no more.”

He pulled away slowly, like he would go in for more at any moment. His chest heaved and his chin was covered in your slick. “You taste divine,” he told you, he looked as if he was the one who had reached his peak. “I don’t think I could ever tire of your taste.” The man stood back to his full height and began to position himself between your thighs. “Like the sweetest honey, haha, I’ll probably crave it again very soon. But unfortunately, I don’t think I can wait any longer.” You felt his tip begin to stretch your opening and you squeezed your eyes shut, but he didn’t move any further. “Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I am,” you nodded, your eyes opened once again. “I am yours.”

“That you’ll stay with me here, in the forest.”

“Stay in the forest?” You struggled to not give in, to not go along with everything just to feel more of him.

“That’s right, with me, forever,” Hashirama confirmed, his own breathing labored and arms shaking with restraint. “Say it.”

As you opened your mouth to respond he slid just a bit more inside and you groaned. “Yes,” you grunted, desperate in your need for more. More of him, inside you, enveloping you, more. “Yes, I’ll stay.”

He groaned and pushed in slowly. “Good,” he grunted. It felt like you were being split open, your mouth open in a silent gasp. He continued to push in, slow and steady, until he bottomed out and you could feel him in the deepest parts of you. His glans touched your cervix and your toes curled.

It was torturous, he hadn’t moved. You wanted him hard and fast, like he was going to break you in half, but when he pulled his hips back it was slow and methodical, like he wanted you to feel every inch drag against your walls, and oh did you. His hips snapped into yours and suddenly you were stuffed full again. You buried your face in his neck. “You feel so good, the way you rub and squeeze me, it makes me want nothing more than to pump you full of cum.”

With every snap inside, your sensitive breasts jostled against his chest and with every slow drag out you bit into his shoulder. “What’s wrong pretty?” You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he meant it. “If you need something you have to ask for it.”

He felt so good, but the slow methodical drag almost hurt. The stimulation was intense, like an itch that needed to be scratched. But it was still so good, you felt so full when he thrust inside and so empty as he took himself away. You felt a keening whine beginning in the back of your throat. You needed him faster.

“Please,” your fingernails began to dig into his back.

“Please what?” Another excruciatingly slow drag out.

“Hashirama, faster please,” you exclaimed. “Harder, please, fuck me until I can’t walk straight just- more please!”

He placed one hand on the back of your head and the other on your waist. “There’s a good girl, so pretty when you beg.” His hips began a brutal pace, his chest rumbled with his groans, his eyes closed as he also began to feel the pleasurable friction of his speed. “Such a good girl,” he said in a staccato, timing it with his thrusts. “Do you think anyone else could take my cock as well as you? You’re so special, so perfect.”

His words made your insides tingle, a pleasant sensation that began to build with your peak. You couldn’t help but gasp every time he hit your cervix. The sound of his aching balls smacking against your ass echoed against the stone walls, the mix of your combined sounds furthering your ecstasy. He moved your face to his and kissed you once again, your third climax of the evening crashing through you.

Your walls squeezed around him, and he groaned into your mouth as you began to milk him. He came as well, and the warmth of his seed made you gasp. Hashirama continued to pump himself into you until you began to feel overstimulated, until all spurts of his hot sperm had finished. He pulled out, his semen immediately began to trickle out of you, but instead of having a softened member, as was typical, he was still fully erect. You blinked up at him in surprise.

A chuckle left him, and he backed away for a moment, one of his hands reached between your legs to collect your combined fluids before he began to rub them along your skin. He rubbed it onto your breasts, your stomach, along the gold band, and the fat of your thigh. “Get on all fours on the table, pretty.” You scrambled to obey.

The hardness of the stone put pressure on your knees, but that pain flew to the back of your mind as you felt his hand move up your back to between your shoulder blades and his own pressure begin to push you down. With your face down and your ass in the air you shivered. Hashirama rubbed the flesh of your right cheek before giving it a light smack, not hard enough to hurt but enough to make your body move. “This is my favorite view. Your ass up, your hole on display and dripping with my cum. Nothing makes me harder.”

He entered you again, his pace fast and merciless. You almost missed the slow and tortuous one he had begun with. The new angle was almost too much, he hit your gspot and a sharp whine left you whenever he did. You thought your eyes might cross from the pleasure. “Touch yourself,” he panted. “Rub your clit for me.”

Eager to obey, you shakily reached a hand down and began to rub your abused clit. Tears stung your eyes; it was almost too much. It hurt but it also felt so good. “You look so pretty wrapped around my cock. I can’t imagine anyone would fit you better. No one could make you feel as good. Only me!”

“Ha,” you swallowed, your saliva thick in your throat. You were already at your peak again. It would have to be the last one, the pleasure was already more than you could handle. “Hashirama, I can’t, I,” you whined, loudly. It was too much, it felt too different. Something above the average orgasm was coming. “I can’t.”

“You can,” he told you, his own voice strained as he felt your walls begin to twitch around him. “Go on, cum on my cock again.”

You rubbed your clit a little harder and after two more thrusts of his godly member and you came for the fourth time. It felt like rapture. A loud gasp tore through you, and you could feel the gush of fluid leave you. He kept going, you kept coming. It seemed like there would be no end to the high and it made you want to sob. Too much of a good thing. “Such a good girl, you sprayed all over me,” he whispered and licked a stripe down your back, his own hips began to stutter. “Just a bit more.”

One more thrust, then two, then three, and he was pulling out. You felt the warmth of his cum hit your back and he trailed it down to your ass. When he was finished, you were both panting, his hand already rubbing his spend along your skin. In a more labored version of his disheartened voice he announced, “Ahh, I want to cover you in more cum.”

You began to shake your head, throat dry and sore from overusing your voice. There was no way you could take another round, your thighs were still trembling, blood still thrumming. “Don’t shake your head,” he tsked. His hair began to tickle your sides and you felt him press his over warm cheek against your hip. Hashirama placed a gentle kiss on your pelvic bone and put an open palm against your lower belly. “You can relax for now, after all, we have plenty of time for me to continue marking you,” there was his cheery lilt.

You heard it before you saw it, the plants beginning to move and cover the exists, even going so far as to block out any human sized hole in the skylights that could be used to crawl out of. A nervous shiver wracked your spine and goosebumps began to crawl along your skin as he licked a trail up your side from your raised hip. “After all, you said you’d be here with me forever.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @justmyownreality

Madara||Tobirama

Season 2

#mortyvongola2 0 fic #naruto series #fanfiction #mortyvongola2 fanfic #mortyvongola2 fic #hashirama smut #hashirama senju #hashirama senju smut #mortyvongola2-0 sacrificed series #hashirama x reader #hashirama x you #hashirama x y/n #hashirama senju x reader #tribute to the gods au #fanfic #reader insert

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mortyvongola2-0 · 2 years ago

Text

Sacrificed

Pairing: God!Tobirama Senju x Reader

Genre: Oneshot, smutty smut

Word Count: 13k

Warnings: oh so many, afab!reader, rough sex, dirty talk, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl, way too much overstimulation, copious amounts of cum, oral sex male receiving, copious amounts of fluids, temperature play, virginity kink, breeding kink, praise kink, power kink, aphrodisiacs, stomach bulge, use of inanimate objects for stimulation, Tobi-rail-me, Tobirama's schlong is too big, womb bullying, no refractory period, strong language

A/N: Holy shit this is so long and I’m so sorry it took forever to get out but it’s finally here and I’m so relieved. Again, sorry it took so long but honestly this thing is monstrous. Twice the size of Madara's and almost twice the size of Hashirama's. There's a lot of lore and references in here to the previous Sacrifices and to future ones but you don't have to read either to fully enjoy this.

Thanks so much again to my amazing editing bestie @therantingfangirl and my artistic troll @skydaddy01 for all your hard work helping me make this so great~ You guys are the best. As well as all my tumblr friends who have been patiently waiting and encouraging me. And thank you so much to all of you who waited and enjoyed the previous ones.

Now, without further ado, please enjoy the final fic for the first season of Sacrificed. Sacrificed (Water)

Read it on AO3

A child had been chosen, a young girl only 8 years old. A child with a bright smile and a love of the color green, a child who’d never known a day of hardship, who’s skin was unblemished and who’s laughter could brighten even the darkest of situations—your little sister had been chosen to be the sacrifice. Your mother had dropped to her knees, your father brought to tears, and all you could do was sit and stare as it felt like the world came crashing down around you. How could they do that? Under who’s authority was she chosen?

You wanted to scream, to run through the village and gather an army in protest of such a grotesque decision, but you couldn’t. Your body refused to work with you, and you were only able to sit and stare as your little sister tried to comprehend why her family was suddenly so distraught. The officials who brought your world to ruin stood there and watched, unflinching and uncaring, as your precious little sister cupped your face in her chubby hands. There were tears in her eyes, which brought tears to yours.

“What’s wrong? What does that mean?” She was scared because you were scared, because your mother wouldn’t stop begging on her knees while your father squeezed his eyes shut and held his wife back from gripping the hem of the officials’ robes as she pleaded for mercy.

This isn’t right, you thought as you squeezed your eyes shut. You wrapped your larger hands around the trembling ones on your cheeks. She’s just a child, if the gods are just they wouldn’t ask for such a sacrifice.

Why her and not you? You were an adult, passed marrying age, some of the village teens had started to call you the old maid because of your single status. They’d laugh as you’d yell back, telling them you weren’t old at all, but of course they never listened. That same question kept repeating itself in your mind. Why her and not me?

“That is all,” the highest official stated. “We will come to collect her for the ceremony next week.”

He turned, as did the other three, and they began to walk away. Why her? You tightened your grip on her small hands. Why must she pay the price for the rest of us? Why not- “me,” you called out. The officials paused and you removed you sister’s hands from your face and held onto them as you stood. “I volunteer in her place.” Your hands shook, you were more afraid than you’d ever been, but your resolve outweighed your fear. A child, not only her but especially one like her didn’t deserve to be so cruelly murdered for everyone else’s sake. “Is that acceptable?”

The group of four stuffy, old men seemed to ponder that as they looked at one another in a panic. They seemed to huddle together for a bit, every second that passed weighed on you like a stone. What if they said no?

I won’t let them take her.

Calls for a sacrifice didn’t happen often, normally the four-village alliance just went about their days as usual, but a drought had begun. The rains had stopped almost five months ago, the crops were suffering and therefore the livestock suffered, and with both the crops and livestock in short supply the strain on the people became too great to ignore. Even the fish supply, which was a staple for coastal villages like yours, had begun to grow scarce due to the low tides. It almost felt like the water was disappearing overnight. So a sacrifice was needed—am mortal that would be offered up to the water god as payment for the rains he offered.

No one knew what became of those who were sacrificed, whether they died at sea or, against all odds, were placed in the hands of a cruel god. They never returned, body or soul. Most assumed they died at sea. The religion among the people had begun to wane since the last sacrifice, many had believed the practice to be cruel and barbaric. The officials turned back toward your small family and cleared their throats. “We appreciate your willingness,” the oldest, who wore the most expensive robes, glanced nervously between the others before clearing his throat. “We will have the elder females come check to make sure you are worthy of the position.” They would check to make sure your maidenhood was intact, that was the one qualification you knew of, and you met it just fine.

“Very well.”

“They should arrive within the next few days, and if all goes well, we will arrive next week for you instead of your sister.” With that, they left, and all of your strength went with them.

You crumbled to the floor, your young sister began to panic, your mom clutched you and sobbed more as your father held all three of you tightly. You could only imagine how badly your teenage brother would react to the news, but somehow you felt numb. An all-consuming nothingness filled your chest as you wrapped your arms around your precious little sister.

Yes, your mind supplied. Its better this way.

The elder women came after two days and confirmed your virginity and whatever else it was they were looking for, after that you were told to go to the official’s lodgings every day to be prepared for the official ceremony. It was an odd affair, you were forced to kneel before a statue and pray to it daily, only allowed to eat lotus roots, and coached on the part of the ceremony that involved everyone else. You were never told what to do after your small boat was set afloat in the sea. Those preparations took up most of your day and when you’d return home your mother would try her best to put on a smile and act like everything was okay, your father would take every opportunity he could to embrace you, your little brother did his best to hide the tears in his eyes, and your poor little sister, who still didn’t quite understand but knew something was wrong, would burst into tears and cling to you all evening.

It was an overwhelming experience, but you fell into the routine like it was second nature, so when the day of the ceremony arrived you were thrown a bit off balance. Instead of lotus roots you were given nothing to eat, only a strangely thick fluid that warmed you to your core whenever you drank it. The time that had been allotted for prayer had become the time for grooming. You were placed into a warm bath of the same fluid, you figured it was to save on the limited supply of water, and they bathed you like a princess. The elder women massaged your skin and combed your hair to perfection. They painted your lips and eyes with crimson, and your abdomen and thighs were decorated with blue dragons that spewed water and seemed to move alongside dark storm clouds. Sitting still while being painted had been rather difficult, the softness of the brush and gentleness of the strokes had left you ticklish and tingly. You thought that viscous fluid had something to do with the latter, the more you drank it the warmer you became and the more sensitive you felt.

The women wrapped you in what felt like gauze. The soft material made the hairs on your body raise, you blamed it on the new sensitivity. They wrapped your breasts like they were being bound, then tied off the artificial top behind your neck; the bottoms were similar, wrapped around your hips and upper thighs until they formed a short skirt that covered enough but too little all the same and made it difficult to walk. Jewelry was placed in your hair, pearls of white and blue were scattered about your locks, and you estimated the price of half of those decorations alone to be worth more than four times the price of your family’s home. Probably enough money to feed your family and your neighbor’s families for two or three years, but that was only your estimation.

Your feet remained bare but they placed bands of silver with pendants of matching pearls around your ankles and wrists, they made a small jingle noise whenever you walked. When they felt you were decorated enough they pinned your hair up and placed a veil over your head. Your vision was obscured but the women took your hands and guided you to the ceremony area in the center of the four villages. The sun hung low in the sky and the people quieted down as you were brought beside the officials. The weight of what was about to happen truly began to settle in your chest and churn your stomach.

Its fine, you had to tell yourself. If it wasn’t me, it would’ve been her, so its fine. As long as it’s not her, anything is fine.

“Great God of Water,” the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears drowned out most of the official’s grand speech, your brain was only able to catch onto the last portion. “We ask for your mercy and blessings upon us in these desperate times. Please, bless us with your rains once more. Bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you!”

The villagers were full of mixed emotions, though you could not see it, you could hear the hesitation and reluctance to cheer from the crowd. “You are doing us a great service,” the official told you quietly, he kept a solid grip on your bicep. “You will not be forgotten.”

You were led from the center of the villages to a palanquin where you were commanded to enter. Once you were secured inside you heard the cry of a familiar little voice. Your precious little sister called out and tried to run after you and into the palanquin. Your father ran after her and picked her up quickly to keep her from climbing inside. You poked your head out and lifted your veil to see her one last time. A pain unlike any other gripped your heart as you looked at her tear-stricken face, and the frowns of grief on your other three family members. “I have to go now, little lily,” your voice almost cracked, and your eyes filled with tears as you called her by her nickname. “Be sure to watch over mom and dad for me, and don’t do anything to worry your older siblings too much.”

“O-okay,” she sniffled pathetically.

“I love you, all of you,” you whispered, unsure whether they would hear it or not, before lowering your veil again and righting yourself in the vehicle. If you had said anything more, or looked at their face’s any longer, leaving would have become unbearable. Your heart squeezed again, and you had to hold back the tears that threatened to spill and ruin the hard work and time that went into your face paintings. The palanquin stopped after what felt like only a few moments. A man you recognized as one of the many officials assisted you in your exit and began to lead you toward a well-known pier.

The sounds of the ocean had once calmed you, a relaxing sound from the time you were young, now the sounds only heightened your anxiety. The other officials followed behind as you were led down a set of steps and told to step into a decorated boat fit for one. There were strings of blue and white flowers placed along the edges of the boat and inside, the soft petals cushioned your feet as you stepped in. The boat rocked and you had to keep your balance as you clutched the elder man’s hand for dear life. Some of the water splashed against your feet and into the bottom of the boat, and you feared that there was a leak somewhere.

Its fine, you repeated to yourself, over and over. A mantra to try and collect yourself. You’re doing this for your little sister, for her, for your family. Its fine.

“Sit down carefully,” the man said as he helped usher you onto the cushioned bench and let go of your hand. You sat stock still, back straight, your fingers fiddling with the edge of your gauzy coverings to occupy your swirling mind. What was going to happen to you?

Don’t worry about it, just focus on how you’re protecting your little lily, your family.

The material stretched under the stress of your nervous fingers. “I’m sorry we can’t offer you anything more,” the high official began from his spot beside the one that had guided you. He handed you a glass bottle of the same liquid you had been drinking all day. “For what it’s worth, you are far braver than anyone I have ever met.”

You stared at him blankly, you were panicking, how is that brave? You wanted nothing more than to jump out of that boat, back onto the docks, and run away. But you knew that if it wasn’t you, it would be her and that was unacceptable. “Farewell, I wish you only happiness in your next life.”

With that, they set your boat adrift, almost in perfect sync with the sun dipping under the horizon.

It was a strange sensation, an isolation you knew not many could understand. You were alone, set adrift in the sea, not knowing what would happen to you. The waves pushed your craft along, rocked it, made it creak. Luckily for you, you didn’t get seasick easily, but the constant motion was disorienting. There was nothing to do but fall deeper into your racing thoughts; wondering how you would get out of this and whether it would end with you living or dead. Maybe you’d die of thirst, cooked like a fish in a pan under the sun after a few days of only the strange milky fluid to drink. That fluid certainly didn’t help with the heat.

A strange light from the corner of your eye caught your attention and you lifted your veil to get a clearer image. You looked into the water, leaning as gently as you could to one side. The light was soft, glowing and pulsing with its glow as it drifted just within sight. One soft purple glow became two, then became a third with more pinks and yellows; more and more lights began to show up just under the surface. They moved with the current, going in the same direction as your boat, and you stared in awe at the sheer number of soft lights. They surrounded your vessel on both sides, each one seeming like its own entity.

The blue lights were the most beautiful, they were few but seemed to dance to a tune only they knew. You dipped your hand under the water’s dark surface, doing your best to try to reach one of the creatures. One hit your hand and it almost felt like nothing. It flinched, its glowing body maneuvering around your hand to continue its path. “Are these jellyfish?” You tilted your head to the side, enraptured by the phenomenon before you.

You wondered how many others had witnessed such a beautiful display, and with so many all at once. Jellyfish were not rare, many washed up on shore or got caught in fishing nets as they floated with the current, but never had you seen any that glowed. It felt like a private show, just for you.

Was the water god taking pity on you? The thought made you frown. Allowing you to see some unseen wonders of the ocean as thanks for your sacrifice? Did the beauty of these creatures really make up for what was to come? If they really were from the water god- you cut off that train of thought, unsure what to feel. There was a strange tightness to your chest that you were unfamiliar with. Bitterness maybe? Twisted reverence and self-pity melded together in an uncomfortable whirl of feelings? You clicked your tongue.

The water began to grow louder, almost restless in sound. Reluctantly you looked away from the beautiful jellyfish to search for the source of the noise. There didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary that you could see, but it felt like your boat was going faster, the water’s volume only increasing as your boat continued on. You glanced back down to the jellyfish below you and couldn’t tell if anything was wrong. They seemed to be drifting at the same speed you were. “The current must’ve picked up.”

To add to the beauty of your private show, you began to place some of the flower petals that decorated the deck of your boat on the water. Scattering them about to add another layer to the multitude below you. The blue and white petals decorated the surface and accented the glow nicely. You laid your head on the boat’s edge, relaxing as the moon shone high in the sky. The sound of the rushing waves, the motion that had nauseated you only an hour or two prior began to lull you to sleep. You continued to scatter petals as your eyes fell closed, your overheated fingers relaxing against the chill of the sea. Yes, you thought, mind caught between the waking world and the slumbering one. It’ll be fine like this. Everything will be fine.

“Lord Tobirama,” you whispered, sleepiness creeping into your voice. “Please, save my family.”

A flash of light lit up the sky, almost like a strike of lightning but without the ferocity of thunder. The waves grew larger, you clung to the edge of your wooden craft as it rocked with the aggravated water. It seemed even the jellyfish had begun to struggle, as their lights began to dim and disappear, leaving you on your own once again. “What in the,” the winds picked up and you held your hair down. Misty water began to spray everywhere, and you fell back against the deck as a particularly rough wave crashed against your boat. The raging water was deafening, the moon and stars were not enough to illuminate the now dark waters. You sat up and immediately wished you hadn’t.

A telltale swirling had begun in the waves a short distance ahead and you knew that meant certain death for you. Your panic began to rise again, your knuckles turned white as you clutched the back of the boat as if that would save you. What could save you? Was there anything? I don’t want to die, you squeezed your eyes shut tightly, the winds and water whipped your hair and made those expensive pearls fall from their delicate places. The veil was torn from your head, cold sea water crashed against your back and into your boat and filled the bottom with a layer of water, the flower petals floated up to your ankles and you squeezed your eyes shut.

Before your wooden vessel even dipped below the angry waves you were soaked to the bone. The whirlpool took hold of your barely afloat vessel and you never felt so hopeless. A deafening crack resounded and you stumbled like a newborn fawn. You opened your eyes in time to watch as your face crashed into the sea, the overwhelming current pulling you under and it felt like it was trying to pull you apart. You choked on the water, too startled to make any rational decisions. Your eyes stung, all you could see was darkness, the current kept pushing and pushing at you, you couldn’t tell which way was up and which led further into the depths. Someone help!

Something incredibly cold, colder than the water touched your outstretched arm and began to pull you through the never-ending darkness. You sputtered and coughed as you broke through the water’s surface. Your eyes stung, so you kept them closed. Your lungs, nose, and throat burned as you did your best to expel all of the salty liquid you had swallowed. Whatever had pulled you out had pulled you to a sandbar or something of the sort as you were able to stay on your knees and keep your airways above water.

Once you had finished expelling the water from your lungs, you greedily began to suck in air, as if you swallowed enough of it you’d never drown again. After a bit of calming down and realizing you were no longer on deaths door you felt alright enough to open your stinging eyes. For a while everything was blurry, no matter how many times you blinked to calm the stinging sensation it remained. Though everything was distorted, you could see that you were in a dark structure of some kind. The body of water that had been an ocean before was now a large square pool with lily pads and lotus floating atop the surface, a lily pad had even clung to your left side. The water came up to your waist while you remained on your knees.

You felt your panic begin to rise once again. How is that possible? I was just in the middle of the ocean how can I-

“You’re alive,” a deep timber. You looked up and saw the blurry outline of a tall person in front of you. Had he been there before? His feet were bare as he seemed to stand on the water’s surface like it was solid ground. All of your well-earned air felt like it was punched out of your lungs. “Good.”

From what you could make out, this man had light hair. Maybe white or silver? Your vision was still too blurry to tell. He had on some sort of long deep blue draping, a robe maybe? The pants he wore underneath the draping were dark in color, you guessed black, and the trimmings on the robe were of a silver variety. One of his large hands reached for your face, and you flinched at the chill of his touch. You closed your eyes, fear gripping your form, but all you felt was the gentle caress of his thumb across both of your eyelids. His hand pulled back as soon as he’d finished and the stinging that had plagued your vision disappeared.

When you opened your eyes again you were hesitant but felt relief at being able to see everything clearly once more. The white-haired man stood high above you his muscled arms crossed over his chest. You were right, it had been a royal blue robe, with filigree and dragons depicted in a sparkling silver thread. His skin was so pale, almost like moonshine incarnate. He had three red markings on his face, one on each cheek and one on his defined chin, each one came to a pointed tip towards the center of his face. There was a tuft of white fur spiked at the top of his collar, it matched his spiked hair.

He wore a frown on his face, seemingly greatly displeased. Under his silken robe he seemed to be wearing a tight black shirt, resembled under armor in appearance and it ended midway up his neck, covering his defined adam’s apple. “You,” he began, the baritone of his voice made your face heat and brought a shiver down your spine. The man seemed to think carefully about what he wanted to say, his arms flexed, you were entranced by the subtle rise and fall of his chest, his piercing red eyes never left your form. A sigh escaped him, you tilted your head, he began to disrobe before tossing the soft material at you. It covered your face and confused you. “Put that on and follow me.”

You frowned at the thought of ruining such nice material with your wet form. It was such a luxurious fabric; you didn’t think you’d ever felt anything like it before or would ever feel anything like it again. The more you touched it, the more you realized your dripping fingers didn’t bother the material at all. It was almost like the water didn’t exist, the material neither repelled or soaked in the water from your form so you finally gave in. It took you a minute to stand, he faced away from you as you stood, and you realized he was being polite.

The gauze-like material had soaked in a lot of water and loosely hung from your form. Your breasts were almost entirely bare, your right nipple on full display, and your sort of skirt had sagged so much your entire lower belly was exposed and displayed the fullness of your hips. You could only guess what your backside looked like and hastily wrapped the blue robe around yourself. “I—” you began, voice hoarse from the strain of swallowing and expelling sea water. “Where am I?”

The man turned his head a bit to glance at you and you assumed he deemed your appearance appropriate because he began to walk away. His feet left ripples against the water’s surface as he stepped on it like flooring; meanwhile, the water still swallowed your feet and up to your shins. He couldn’t possibly be—

“You are in my domain.”

“Your domain?”

“Yes.”

You were struggling to keep up with his pace, your body still bit wobbly from the adrenaline drain.

“I am Tobirama.”

“Tobirama!?” The Tobirama? Tobirama Senju, the water god? The one your sister had almost been sacrificed to and the one that you had been? He was real? And alive and well apparently. Without the robe, more of his physique was on display. His back was muscled, his shoulders broad but waist on the slimmer side. The shirt he wore had cut outs at his hips that exposed more of his milky skin and teased the defined bones there.

“That’s Lord Tobirama to you.”

You dropped to your knees quickly, your arms outstretched in front of you with your palms toward the heavens. You placed your forehead flat against the cold black stone at the edge of the pool, your quick action had caused the waters of the pool to begin to move again, the sash on the robe had untied itself and the cold water against your hot warm flesh startled you. “Lord Tobirama, god of water and keeper of knowledge, please send your blessed rains to my people.”

When he did not respond you decided to continue. “My family—my village, they will starve soon without them. Please show us your mercy.” Your lips trembled, your throat tightening at the thought of your family. “I know I am insignificant and unworthy but—” the high priest’s concluding line came to mind as you tried to win his favor, bring life into our plants and our soil as we bring life to you! “Please use my life to spare theirs.”

The silence weighed heavy after your pleading, and you dared not lift your head. Was he thinking? Was he angry? Had he disappeared? Your mind raced with questions, with thoughts and feared outcomes. Tears began to well up in the corners of your eyes, so you squeezed them shut. This was it, wasn’t it? You’d die by angering him, not having saved anyone in your family let alone the youngest. I’m sorry little lily, everyone.

Cold, very cold, fingers tipped your chin upward. He held your head in place to make you look up at him. His face remained neutral, which was better than you had expected. Those red eyes scanned your features, your eyes were wide and dewy. You had never expected the god of water to be so handsome, so human-like and yet still so ethereal. The fingers that held your face were so large and strong, you knew you couldn’t break away unless he allowed it. You wondered what he was looking for as his eyes scanned your own again.

Those cold hands moved and began to help you to your feet, they allowed you to lean on him a bit, your twitching fingers gripping his forearms tightly as you balanced yourself and hoped for the best all at the same time.

“I cannot alter the course of nature,” was his simple reply. So simple and yet even more crushing than the sentence that had announced your sister as a sacrifice. “I will send you back in a few days’ time, mortals cannot stay in the realm of gods for too long. You will remain here in the meantime.”

Your grip on his arms tightened. He was so close, but you felt so far removed that you didn’t notice the minute twitch of his fingers against your hands or the subtle downturn of his luscious lips as he watched your face crumble. The fact that you were stuck there hadn’t even registered until later on when he led you to the room you would occupy while there. Tobirama allowed you two rooms, one a very luxurious bedroom, decorated in dark marble walls with glowing pearl like stones for light, all material made of the same type of royal blue and silver silk as the robe he encouraged you to keep on. The room was so beautiful it made you feel out of place. There were bookshelves that adorned the walls beside the double doors; they were made of pearl with many tomes and texts, scrolls and leather-bound books, all worn and delicately placed like they’d been read and reread many times over.

The second room you were allowed was an equally exquisite bathing chamber. Again, the walls were dark marble, inlaid with pearlescent accents. The same pearl like stones glowed for light, and an empty pool similar in shape to the one you had emerged from rest at the center of the room, the edges and inside decorated with bright silver. You wondered how often humans, or even other gods, used these rooms but you didn’t voice your question. Your heart still felt heavy with the knowledge that you were of no use to your people or family.

“When I go back, will I be able to be with my family again?” The question left you before you could think about it.

The god closed his eyes and crossed his arms again, a soft sigh left him as he began to walk toward the heavy double doors that led back into the hallway. “I suggest bathing before going back to your bedchambers, that ceremonial makeup you mortals love so much has smudged everywhere from the sea water.”

His avoidance of your question irritated you.

“What use is going back then? If I can’t save them, if I can’t see them, I’d rather you have left me to die in that whirlpool.”

He paused, his back visibly straightening, before he opened the doors and left you alone in the unfamiliar room. The sound of the door closing shut behind him was loud and it brought your negative emotions to a head. You felt so helpless, so hopeless. The weight of your emotions brought you to your knees again, but you began to slam your fists against the polished floors in your anguish. What use were you? Was this situation? It hadn’t mattered that you took your sister’s place, she would still starve along with the rest of your loved ones. You hadn’t truly believed in the water god but some small voice in the back of your head had whispered the possibility of salvation, which you hadn’t realized had become a hope.

You cried your fill, cried until your eyes hurt and wailed until your throat gave out in protest. When your body wouldn’t let you cy any longer you wiped your eyes and nose and just sniffled. There was no way for you to tell how much time had passed, but a bath and sleep sounded like the best you could do at that moment. You stood and removed the robe and began to remove the loose gauze you had been wrapped in and used it to wipe off the smudges of paint that were left along your body. Across the back wall was a large mirror that you approached. Your reflection looked rough.

Your eyes were swollen from crying, the beautiful makeup was smudged, your hair was fizzled and damp with half dried sea water, the pearls and decorations that remained were strewn about in a tangled mess. A sigh left you as you began to pick out the decorations one by one and placed them on the floor beside you. When you finished you were surprised to find that the pool had filled with water without you having to do anything, but the more you thought about it the more it made sense. You were in the home of the water god after all.

After your bath, which was at best lukewarm, you replaced the blue robe and walked back to the room that you had been given. You were so tired, you decided to flop down on the plush bed. It was so soft, but so unfamiliar. What was there for you to do now? When you were expelled from the realm of the gods, where would you go? Where would you be? How did it all work? Those questions kept running through your mind until your body could no longer stay awake.

A few cycles of sleep passed by like that, you assumed they were days but you couldn’t be too sure. When you woke up there was always fresh fruit placed carefully on the bedside table for you to eat. You would partake in the familiar foods as you explored the hallways and rooms of the domain. You knew you were told to stay within those rooms but there was not much else for you to occupy your time with. Eventually you stumbled upon where Tobirama seemed to spend most of his time.

It looked to be a study, comprised of the same dark marble and pearl mixture, with a desk like structure raised from the ground for him to sit in front of. Bookshelves like the ones in your chambers lined all four walls, each organized but in a chaotic manner. The books and tomes in that room looked far more used than the ones in your own, which was quite impressive. The first time you stumbled upon him there he seemed to be studying some sort of scroll, brush in hand for note taking. Despite your anger toward him you couldn’t help but admire his appearance. Everything about him was enticing, from the elongated bridge of his nose to the way he furrowed his brow in concentration. The flexing of his shoulder blades as his arms moved and the subtle tapping of his bare foot as he worked felt more human to you than you wanted him to be.

Despite your one oversized robe he seemed to have found another to wear, this one was black with white dragons and square like patterns made of royal blue. A similar fur to the one that lined your collar lined his and you wondered if it was because he was cold. His skin had certainly felt freezing. After watching him for a while you’d move on to a different room, your second favorite one to visit. It was the room you had arrived in. The pool you had come out of laid at the center of the room, under a large skylight with columns of white marble seemingly holding the structure up. The sky that was shone was so unfamiliar that if you hadn’t known you were in another realm that would’ve told you immediately.

The sky remained dark, but a dark blue of sorts, with patterns of light that looked like water reflections being the only source of motion. The reflective patterns were very bright, and they shone down on the center of the water pool where an altar like structure sat. It was made of the same white marble as the four columns, and it had engravings along the edges of the pedestal. The only one you could make out read a sacrifice of flesh and blood and it made you wonder if this structure had been a temple at one point.

At the other end of that room, across from the altar and pool sat a throne like chair that seemed to be made of pearl. It was freezing to the touch and felt rather uncomfortable when you sat on it. The seat itself was far too large for you, you estimated two of you could sit in it with some room to spare, but you weren’t sure if it would be equally roomy for Tobirama. He was a rather tall man, with an athletic frame, but you thought he’d fit perfectly in the center with just enough space on both sides. The throne made you feel rather lonely, looking out at the empty room and still pool from that spot felt empty. You decided to sit on the altar and watch the sky from there, rather than the lonely throne.

When time kept stretching by, with only fruits, nuts, and roots to eat, and the oversized structure thoroughly explored without forcing your way into locked rooms, you began to comb through the texts in your room. Some of them you couldn’t read, written in some other language or the wording was too difficult to understand, but some were rather interesting. Most of the scrolls seemed to be religious texts, about the different gods and their regions of reign.

Like the sun god and the god of forests, Tobirama was revered as a long-standing deity. The tome you read had claimed him to be the younger brother of the god of forests. That same tome talked about other gods, one was even supposedly a descendent of Tobirama but he had been one of the punished so his name was blotted out of the text. Some of the other books talked about Madara, the sun god, and how strong he was and the many theories behind his rise while other gods like Tobirama and Hashirama, the god of forests, were left to decline. That particular part must have been outdated, as Lord Hashirama’s region and strength had seemed to quadruple in the past 30 years. Your mother had been born in that village and she had spoke about the abundance and grace of the forest god.

You paused a moment. The story your mother told said that Lord Hashirama had regained his strength after falling in love with a female human that had been given to him as a sacrifice and one of the handwritten scrolls you read had theorized that Lord Madara’s great strength came from the yearly sacrificial ritual his region practiced. “Then is Tobirama unable to change nature because he isn’t strong enough? Because there hasn’t been enough human sacrifice?”

You thought back to when you knew to be the last human sacrifice given to the water god, which was before you were born. How many years had it been? Your father had been the one to tell you about it, and about the outcry of the people afterward. Even when telling the story he seemed disgusted by what had occurred. “He was only 11? Or was father 10?” Either way it seemed there hadn’t been a sacrifice made to Tobirama in almost 50 years before you.

So what was different about you? Had you not done something important to complete the ritual to give him strength? Were you even enough? Did it have to do with your age? You couldn’t recall how old the previous sacrifice was but you thought she had been an older woman. Burning with determination and questions, you clutched the theory tightly to your chest and made your way toward the water god’s study.

You barged in, too focused on your emotions to think about the disrespect you were showing a god. He had paused his writing when you entered, his sleeve held back in one hand to prevent ink stains and brush in the other. The water god looked handsome as he always did, same black long-sleeved shirt but he wore another royal blue robe, the pattern on it was of silver water lilies and koi swimming beneath. It was beautiful, and he left the robe open for all to admire the tightness of his shirt against his skin. Tobirama looked at you calmly and waited for you to explain why you interrupted him.

“What’s wrong with me?” You blurted out, sophistication and eloquence being two words that could not be used to describe you at that moment.

“What?”

“The scroll,” you unfurled said paper and pointed it at it, approaching closer to his desk. He set his brush down and took it carefully from your grasp. “You don’t have the power to send rains or to even send me back, do you?”

He remained silent, his sharp eyes glanced up at you before his jaw clenched and he looked down at the scroll again. “You haven’t had a sacrifice in 50 years, so your strength has dwindled.”

“Wrong,” he stated calmly and set the scroll down on his desk as he crossed his arms over his chest. A habit he seemed to have. “It’s been almost 200 years.”

“What?”

He let out a sigh and looked you in the eye, a slight frown on his lips. “Gods often sleep to conserve power; I believe I have been asleep for about 200 or so years.”

“Then the previous sacrifices?”

He shook his head and his silence weighed on you. You pressed your lips together and rubbed your arm slowly. “Why did you wake up then?”

“I am unsure,” he paused and tilted his head back. “When I last went to sleep, I was certain my brother and I would sleep for the rest of eternity, but it seems there was just enough prayer to reawaken me.”

“Lord Hashirama had weakened too?”

“Yes, we believed that humans no longer needed gods so we decided it would be better to fall silent.”

“But not anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lord Hashirama’s region has been flourishing for at least three decades now. I assume he’s still awake even now.”

Tobirama looked to the side as he processed that information. “Madara too,” you continued. “He receives a yearly sacrifice even now and his people call themselves the Empire of the Sun and have yet to diminish. They are currently attempting to unite the continent.”

The water god’s fists clenched and his eyes narrowed at that news. “Damn him,” he muttered under his breath. “And has my brother done anything to stop this? To stop him?”

“I don’t know, I only know about the legends.” You rubbed your sleeve covered arm a bit hard and bit your bottom lip before asking. “So what do I need to do to restore your power? Is there anything I can do? I am your sacrifice after all.”

He let out a loud huff through his nose as he closed his eyes. The water god tapped against his arm as he seemed to think on things. Your chest tightened with emotion. Could you really end up saving your family after all? Nothing would please you more, even if it was something scary like letting him devour you whole, you would do it without hesitation. Tobirama uncrossed his arms and placed them on the desk in front of him.

“There is but I’m not sure how much power I’ll be able to gain from your worship alone,” he began to move his papers and scrolls aside. “Sit here, we’ll run a test first.”

Your heartbeat picked up. A test? Would it hurt? You approached his desk anyway and nervously sat atop it, making sure to sit facing toward him. His proximity made your face heat up and he sat and observed you closely. His eyes looked you up and down, and at the height you were atop his desk you were able to make direct eye contact without looking up at him. He placed his hands at your hips and leaned forward. His breath fanned your lips as your skin began to flush. “Are you willing?”

“Yes,” you whispered, enchanted by his voice and proximity. “I’ll do anything.”

“Then let’s begin the test,” was his only warning before his large hands gripped your hips and his mouth pressed to yours. His lips were cold, so very cold, and the same could be said for his hands. His low temperature permeated the silk of the robe and made your skin prickle. You wanted to try to warm him up.

Anxiety rushed through you as you felt his cold tongue press against your lips. What did that mean? You had never kissed anyone before, but his cold touch made your body heat up. Without much thought you wrapped your arms around his neck and unconsciously pulled him in closer. His tongue pressed harder against your lips and it forced your them to part. So cold, an appendage that was typically warm was practically an ice block in your mouth and you shivered.

He groaned as he pulled back, you were out of breath, an embarrassment unlike any other filling your chest. Did he pull away because you were bad? Did you fail the test? Were you not enough? You almost whimpered at the thought, your body continued to shiver.

“Are you,” he seemed to shiver too. “Are you still untouched?”

Heat rose, you could feel it span your entire face and the top of your chest as you nodded in embarrassment. “Yes,” you whispered, nervous. “Is that going to be an issue?”

“No,” he said quickly, his voice having taken on a deeper tone. “Are you cold?”

“You seem colder than me, your skin is ice.”

He smirked a bit and moved back before standing. “Stay there, I’ll be back shortly.”

Tobirama hadn’t lied, he had come back rather quickly, but with a black flask in hand. He sat back down easily and handed you the container gently. “Drink all of this and then we can continue.” Your body thrummed at the idea of continuing, so you did your best to chug whatever it was in the flask. It was viscous, and if you could see the color you knew it would be the same as the strange fluid the priests made you drink before the ceremony. Immediately your body warmed, and you shook from the contrast in temperatures. “Good girl,” he praised, his voice made your toes curl. “Now lean back and sit still.”

You did as you were told and almost gasped as you watched his deft fingers begin to untie the sash for the robe. “Wait, I’m not—”

“This is a part of the test,” he began. His cold fingers pressed against the naked flesh of your abdomen as he pushed the robe open. You felt hypersensitive, that light touch alone was almost enough to make you moan. “Stay still, and quiet, and then we can move on to the real ritual.”

“S-So, am I enough?”

“Possibly,” he muttered as he lightly caressed his hands up the sides of your form and stopped at your breasts. His cold temperature in contrast with your warmer one caused your nipples to harden; you pressed your thighs together as you watched his pupils dilate at the sight of your naked breasts. The light-haired man’s fingers twitched, and he ran them lightly along your breasts toward your pebbled flesh. Your eyes closed in embarrassment and a whine attempted to leave your throat. He paused, his eyes looking back at your face before landing on his forgotten calligraphy brush. “We’ll have to see how this works out won’t we? Little mortal, spread your legs for me so we can begin.”

You swallowed the noise that had threatened to leave your throat as you nodded. You opened your legs slowly, embarrassed by your nakedness and the obvious wetness that had begun to spill from you. If you could’ve, you would’ve brought your hands down immediately to cover yourself, but that would be disobedient. There was an unnerving feeling of obligation, both to stay obedient to him as your god and to hear him praise you more. The tip of his brush hit your collarbone and swirled down toward your chest, and you jumped at the sensation. He clicked his tongue, “Behave, little girl. Stay still and quiet.”

The brush followed back up the trail, leaving black ink along in its wake. The water god brought the brush back down a similar path, but this time he brought it all the way down to your nipple. You wanted to cry out, the tickling sensation circling against your hardened peak went straight to your core and you could feel your clit twitch. He continued to circle it, over and over, your breathing picked up. Surely that was allowed, right? Tobirama brought the tip of the brush down from there and trailed it along the underside of your breast down to your lower belly.

Unintentionally, your stomach flinched at the cold brush. He clicked his tongue again and brought his sharp eyes up to your face. “I’m sorry, my Lord I didn’t—” he shushed you, cutting your apology short.

“Remember to be quiet,” he told you, his other hand creeping up to your mouth. None too gently, he placed his index and middle finger into your waiting lips and his jaw tightened as you began to suckle on them instinctively. “There’s an obedient sacrifice.” You whimpered at his words, and he pressed his fingers deeper into your mouth, back toward your throat. “Do my words affect you that much?”

His eyes trailed down to the heated area between your legs and he tsked again, his tone sounded smug. “You’re so wet, from what? A kiss and some light caresses? Are you so innocent that even this little is too much?”

You squeezed your eyes shut, you could feel your clit twitch under his gaze, he let out a breathless chuckle. The brush began to move along your lower belly, right above your womb he swirled the ink in a cyclical pattern. Once satisfied, he trailed it back upward toward your neglected breast and paid extra attention to the nipple once again. By that point you couldn’t help it, you sucked on his fingers as hard as you could, but a whimper still left you. Tobirama kept up his swirling, you were so sensitive, your lower body unconsciously pushed forward as you felt your clit throb hard. “Mmm!”

It felt weird, you had never felt anything like that before. Your entire body twitched, and your toes curled, you felt a rush of wetness start to leak onto his desk. The building in your lower belly had relaxed but your sensitivity only increased as he continued to tease your nipple with his brush. When you opened your eyes again there was a definitive redness to his cheeks and the tips of his ears, his eyes were entirely focused on your throbbing sex and his breath was noticeably labored.

“So disobedient.” The feeling in your chest tightened, your high cut short. You disappointed him? His voice had kept its husky tone. The brush left your body entirely and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. “You couldn’t keep still or quiet,” he began to trail the brush down your abdomen once more, a swirling pattern that laid right over your womb once more and used your heightened sensitivity against you. Your sex ached, virginal channel twitching in anticipation of something you knew little about. “Those who misbehave must receive punishment.”

The brush trailed down further; the ink covered bristles marking your pelvis before drawing over your mound. “I’ll give you one more chance to behave. If you remain quiet and still, I’ll let you cum again,” his sharp red eyes, pupils all but swallowing the irises, stared into the depths of yours. You nodded your assent, and he kept the eye contact as the brush moved to your folds.

He watched you like a hawk, looking for every minute twitch and flinch, as he began to circle your labia before moving the brush toward your dripping flesh. It was incredibly difficult not to whine as the brush head grazed over your weeping entrance. Tobirama’s jaw clenched and unclenched as he started his assault on your neglected bud. You bit your bottom lip to keep from whining, the pressure was too light. The water god’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to read your mind and pressed the brush harder, moving it up and down in a lapping like motion.

You wanted to close your eyes but his own were too intense, too enticing, you couldn’t look away. “You’re trying so hard to please me,” he taunted, a tight smirk on his perfect lips. “Can you feel it? Every time I speak to you, your hole twitches.” He brought the brush down to circle your clenching entrance to emphasize his point. “Does my voice make you ache?”

A whimper almost escaped you.

“So wet and warm,” he turned the brush over and began to prod at you with the rounded end. “Little girl, this lewd thing,” his cold hands cupped your sex and you let out a quiet groan, your eyes moving skyward. “Such a salacious reaction is unbecoming of a virgin.”

The water god removed his palm and brush and brought them up to his face. “Look here,” he commanded, and you obeyed. His palm glistened with your slick and the calligraphy brush was soaked through, your fluids mixed with the black ink and dripped down his cleaner palm. “You’ve ruined my favorite brush, and my palm is soaked despite barely making contact. So obscene,” he brought his palm to his mouth and lapped at his palm, a visible shiver rattling him at the taste of you. His red eyes remained focused on your own as he cleaned his palm. “What is a god to do with a sacrifice like you?”

You were at your wits end; you couldn’t sit still or remain quiet anymore. It was too much, you were sweating from both heat and effort, your sex throbbed and ached unlike anything you’d ever felt before, your breasts were tender and felt heavy under the knowledge that he could be holding them instead. Even your fingers itched to hold onto him somehow, to tear away at his arrogance and get at the flesh beneath that cloth. A whine that felt closer to a sob bubbled in your chest and threatened to escape your lips.

“You did very well that time,” the god told you, almost affectionately. “Shall I reward you now?”

“Yes,” you cried, tears threatening to spill from your eyes. “Please, my lord, I can’t—”

“Enough,” he hushed you. The white-haired man stood and placed one of his large hands on the small of your back and the other approached your heated sex again. You unconsciously pushed your hips forward towards his hand and he allowed his palm to make contact again. This time, however, he pressed the heel of his palm against your aching bud and ground down on it. “Cry out to your heart’s content.”

A loud moan escaped you and you threw your head back. Your reached forward and grabbed at his thick wrist to hold his palm in place as you sloppily rode it. Using his hand on the small of your back, he brought you closer to him and pressed his cold lips to yours. The kiss was sloppy, you were fueled purely on instinct. He seemed unbothered by your lack of experience, and he used his tongue and lips to guide yours. When you were right at the precipice from your rough grinding he pulled his palm back and swallowed your cries of protest.

Tobirama did not leave you waiting for long, his cold fingers returned, and he prodded one at your entrance. You were so wet that he penetrated you easily. It felt like the air had been sucked out of your lungs, you pulled away from the kiss to gasp as your body tried to register the foreign feeling. He pushed his finger in deeper and you felt your walls squeeze around it. “Nngh,” you groaned. The cold of his finger contrasted so starkly with the heat of your insides. He began to pump his finger, in and out, and the friction felt so good. “Mmm.”

“You’re gripping my finger so tightly,” he pressed a kiss to your exposed collarbone. “Spread your legs more, I’ll be adding another finger shortly.”

You nodded dumbly, your mind and body reeling from the pace he had set. His thumb reached up to circle your clit as he added a second finger. You were thankful for it, as the second finger made the stretch a bit more uncomfortable, but you were able to experience the same amount of pleasure thanks to his thumb. The noises that came from your body were sloppy and wet. The faster he went the more your juices sloshed and dripped, the louder your moans became. “Such filthy sounds you’re making. So depraved, like a whore.”

“N-No,” you whimpered. “I’m not—”

“Your pretty hole would beg to differ. Now that it’s felt my touch, its begging for more. Shall I add another finger?”

The tip of his ring finger began to press inside, and you shuddered, almost drooling. It felt like too much, you had never had anything or anyone inside of you before. His third, thick and equally cold, finger slid inside and the stretch burned. You grunted, feeling like you’d been punched in the gut and the water god began to scissor your insides. “This is all in preparation for the sacrificial ritual.”

“Ritual,” you panted.

This isn’t the ritual?

He hum in concentration, his digits began to thrust in and out, then stretch, then in and out again at a brutal pace. Tobirama removed the hand that had been holding the small of your back and used it to undo his robe’s sash. The silken material slid open easily and with that same free hand he began to palm at the oversized tent in his trousers. You almost balked as he began to pull his clothing down to reveal the agitated flesh, he groaned loudly at being free of the confines.

Tobirama was long, exceedingly long, and generously thick with a purpled tip leaking with copious amounts of precum. He was so hard, and you almost burst when you realized that you were the reason he was throbbing. Your eyes were entranced as he began to pump himself slowly, your hips bucking to meet his fingers with more vigor. His thumb flicked your clit and all you could think about was trying to fit that beast inside of you. “Lord Tobirama,” you cried out. “I feel nnn- weird. S-Something’s coming!”

“Then cum, clench around my fingers and cry out for me.”

“Mmm, my lord,” you whined pathetically, your eyes squeezed shut and you bit into your bottom lip. He kept pumping you with his fingers, his thumb baring down on your clit with almost a painful amount of pressure. His continued work heightened your orgasm and elongated it. Soon his fingers, his thumb in particular, became too much and you began to squirm in overstimulation.

“The ritual,” he grunted, the sounds of his hand working his cock melding with the sounds of your wet sex. “Mortal worship is what gives us strength. And what greater form of praise is there than sex.”

“Please, your fingers, it’s too much,” more whining, you sounded a bit hoarse, but your body couldn’t take much more.

“So, we are yet to be finished.” The water god finally stilled his fingers and removed them with a loud shlop sound.

You nodded, eyes soaking in and memorizing the image of a partially clothed water god, pumping his rigid manhood with his hand that had just been removed from your body. His cheeks were tinged pink, his ears had a dusting of the same shade, his intimidating and crisp appearance disheveled because of you. Slowly you slid off from his desk, your bum hitting the cold floor roughly. He watched you, his haughty demeanor returning as you sat on your knees before him.

He stopped pumping and angled his erection toward your closed lips. Tentatively, you licked it. You had no idea what you were doing but you wanted to please, to worship him as he said. “Good girl,” Tobirama praised as he placed his hand, the one wet with his own precum, in your hair and pulled you flush against his aching need. “Open your mouth.”

Almost as soon as you opened your mouth, he placed his throbbing tip inside. You wrapped your lips around it and closed your eyes. How was even this part of him so cold? He pushed his hips forward and you had to open your jaw further to fit him. The taste of him was tangier than you expected, but that also could’ve been the taste of your lingering juices. He moved his fist, at the base of his shaft, together with your slight head bobs.

The sounds he made were divine; low grunts and moans, a rumbling in his chest when you scraped him with your teeth, his labored breathing grew louder and louder with each passing movement. Your jaw ached but you loved the feeling of his throbbing flesh in your mouth. The longer you sucked the more of him you tried to swallow. Eventually he reached so far back that he hit the back of your throat. Tears were welling in your eyes at the effort and saliva leaked from all parts of your mouth. You began to grunt and whine along with him, fresh arousal dripped from you onto the floor.

With one final thrust of your head to his pelvis, he throbbed and groaned loudly as he spurt cold spend down your throat. You wanted to taste it, but your tongue had already numbed from the temperature of his cock. He removed himself slowly, a small trail of semen and throat mucus following behind. When he was fully out of your mouth you rubbed your throat. It felt abused but in a way you never expected to enjoy, you happily swallowed the gunk that remained on your tongue and didn’t need to be told to lick him clean. He was still rock hard and you pressed your thighs together at the sight.

He reached down and helped you to your feet. Tobirama fully removed his robe and you pushed off the one that had loosely remained on your arms. The god adjusted his trousers and you frowned in confusion as he tucked himself away again. He still removed his tight shirt, revealing a haven of well sculpted flesh to your greedy eyes, which gave you pause. “We will continue in the altar room.”

“Oh.”

“Do you know where that is?”

You nodded.

“Then go, I will meet you there. I have something else to prepare.”

Again, you nodded, throat still sore, and began to walk toward your second favorite place to be. During your walk there you had begun to feel cold, and you wondered if it was because of the cum you swallowed. You could almost feel it as it sat in your belly like ice and froze your core, but you couldn’t help the tingle of need that pulsed at your entrance at the thought. You wrapped your arms around your middle to conserve heat.

You waded through the pool as you went to sit on the altar to wait for him. As horny as you still were, you were thankful for the reprieve. It allowed your overtaxed body a break and your lust addled mind some clarity. Though with the clarity came the anxiety of being deflowered by the same flesh that had deliciously tortured your throat. A shiver crawled up your spine, both from the cold and at the thought of how ruined you would be afterward. Tobirama was going to split you in half, he’d probably reach well into your guts if he bottomed out inside of you.

The water god appeared in the hallway; he was still shirtless with two flasks in his large hands. One flask looked the same as the one from before, black, but the other had a dual blue and purple hue that attracted your attention. You stared at the flex of his muscles as he walked, his hair looked like he had run his hands through it a few times, but he approached you with purpose. His feet glided over the water like it had when you first saw him. He narrowed his eyes at your hunched form. “Are you alright?”

You nodded and muttered, “Just cold.”

He handed you the black flask again and you began to drink it before he told you to. The fluid slid down your throat like slime, but it warmed its way down and seemed to overtake the cold that had seeped its way through you. The mixture of the viscous drink and Tobirama’s essence seemed to unsettle your stomach a bit but it wasn’t anything to worry about. Those sharp red eyes watched you carefully as he leaned in closer. “Is that better?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Are you still willing?” That question surprised you. Would you have been sitting there still naked if you weren’t? Or even drank more of that strange fluid? You appreciated the sentiment though.

“Of course.”

“Good, then move over for a moment.”

“Whah?” He nudged you aside before he sat himself down in the center of the altar. The pale god sat and began to slide his trousers down just enough to expose his half-hard member and the swollen balls below it. Tobirama opened the blue and purple flask before beckoning you to straddle him. You were up on your knees with your hands clutching his shoulders. It was a position you had not been expecting, though you weren’t really aware of what positions where normally used in this sort of situation.

The white-haired man leaned forward and began to lap at your neck, both hands moving to cup your cold breasts. He pressed them together before rolling and squeezing them. You moaned softly when his cold thumbs began to rub your nipples. His lapping turned into opened mouth kisses as he made his way down your unpainted collarbone and to your breast, where he had conveniently, rubbed the ink off of your skin. That cold appendage left a wet trail from the top of your left breast to the underside before he enveloped a nipple and vigorously sucked. A higher pitched moan escaped you and you tightened your grip on his shoulders.

Before he switched to the right breast, he poured some of the liquid from the blue and purple flask into his hand and rubbed the fluid against your sex. He nipped at the pebbled bud in his mouth and smeared the fluid into your soft tissue thoroughly. With a breathy groan you bucked into his hand. The water god poured more into his palm and made sure to coat his fingers before pushing them into you. You leaned back on your haunches a bit, giving him better access to your insides, and you were pleasantly surprised to find that the fluid was warming up the more he worked it in.

“Mmm,” you bit your lip and glanced at his cock. It had risen back to hardness and your inner walls clenched at the thought.

Tobirama chuckled breathlessly, “That eager to be stuffed full of me, hm?”

He removed his fingers from your entrance, and you whined. His cock visibly throbbed at the sound. The water god poured more of the fluid into his hand and began to rub it along his member. The substance was also a bit viscous but lighter in color than the one you’d been drinking. “Get back into the previous position, little girl. I’m about to split you open.”

Swallowing nervously, you straddled him again, and your grip on his shoulders had your knuckles turning white. With his none lubricated hand placed on your hip, and his other keeping his length in position, he began to slowly bring your down onto him. The blunt tip felt good as he rubbed it against your entrance and clit, it had relaxed you enough for you to try to sink down on it.

The tip felt impossibly wide as it popped inside. “Relax, if you tense up it’ll make things more difficult.”

Relax, you told yourself. Easier said than done. You closed your eyes and sunk down further. The stretch burned and you bit your bottom lip. Only when you pressed down a little more did Tobirama let out a groan of pleasure. “That’s it,” he encouraged. “Just like that. Good girl.”

The praise made you want to try harder, so you took more of him in at once than you should’ve. It knocked the wind out of you, his blunt head hit against the spongey part in your walls that made your toes curl. He panted and removed his hand, no longer needing it to hold himself in place, instead he placed it on your other hip to try to ease your burden. Your hands shook, it was painful but pleasurable all at once, the feeling was almost too much. “Halfway there.”

Only halfway? You whined again as you tried to take in more of him; the whine only grew in volume as he rubbed against the most sensitive parts of your inner walls. His eyes were narrowed in on where your bodies connected, the sharp red was filled with undeniable desire as he watched your being swallow him. “Look at how well you’re taking me.”

“Lord Tobirama,” you groaned as you sunk down further. Your entire body flinched when he hit against a part of you that felt wrong. “Nn, I can’t take in anymore.”

“You were being such a good girl. There’s no need to worry, only a bit more to go.”

“I can’t. I—” you cut yourself off as you attempted to do as asked but felt that same intensity. You shook your head. Before you had fully adjusted to the fullness, Tobirama began to raise you up and down along his length. It felt like heaven and hell in one place. Every time his blunt head hit against that spot it tried to push a little harder against it. Your legs trembled, your brain too pleasure fogged to try and ride him. When he started to thrust up as he brought you down, you swore.

“You don’t ever want me to leave this hole do you? You’re sucking me in, trying to take me in deeper despite saying that you couldn’t. But look,” he grunted with exertion, and you felt a telltale pop as he pushed past the barrier. It hurt, it felt wonderful, it was too much. Your body began to spasm and your vision blurred. The highest pitched noise you’d ever made escaped your lungs and you clawed at his back, leaning forward against his chest to try to gain some relief from the feeling. Tobirama shivered against you.

His grip on your hips was bruising as he continued to bring you up and down, sinking deeper then he ever should’ve. You were a mess, tears welled in the corners of your eyes and you felt stupid. All you could do was moan and whine like a bitch in heat. “If I cum inside we’ll be tied forever, do you want that?”

You nodded, the pressure in your lower belly about to burst.

“I’ll sow my seed inside you,” he panted, his thrusts and pulls increasing in speed. You bounced up and down on his lap at an erratic pace. Tobirama continued to ramble. “You’ll take every last drop. The thought of you with milk swollen breasts and a round belly is enough to drive me insane. You’re my precious little broodmare. Fuck!” His curse was punctuated by a particularly hard thrust, one that smashed your clit down onto his pelvic bone and caused you to reach your peak. You felt a rush of fluid leave you and you whimpered as oversensitivity set in almost immediately.

“Such a good—” he thrust two more times and gasped as he reached his own end. There was a distinctive rush of cold as he came inside you. It felt like a lot. You bit your bottom lip and pressed your forehead into his shoulder as he relaxed his grip on your hips. The two of you remained like that for a while, basking in the post orgasm bliss. He wrapped his arms around you and kissed your forehead gently.

Exhaustion began to swallow your form but before you could completely give in he spun you around to face the throne. He remained inside of you, his member twitching and spunk leaking from you and dripping down his sack. You whimpered when he leaned your back against his chest and angled your body so that you could watch your combined fluids run down his darkened flesh. “We’re not finished,” he supplied before he gripped your hips once more with just as much force.

Tobirama bounced you like you weighed nothing, the new angle giving you a clear view of the indentation he was making inside of you. You placed your hands over it and felt him practically pulse both inside and in your hands. Your mouth dropped open. As he worked you open, again and again, more of his cold sperm fell out of your center and stained his skin and the marbled stone. “Look at what you’re wasting,” he grunted, one of his hands crept down to tease your oversensitive nub and cause you to flinch with every motion of his fingers. “I’ll have to use something to plug you when we’re done. You don’t want to waste anymore, do you?”

Drool began to drip down the sides of your open mouth as you threw your head back against his shoulder, your hands rubbed against your own skin as they pressed back against him. It made you feel him harder; it made him rub you more. Your entire being felt like it would explode, your brain too stimulated to comprehend his question. “Ffffn,” you felt like your brain had gone numb. “Haaa, ahn.”

“Hm?” He brought his hand away from your abused nub and up to grip your chin. The water god turned your face toward him and his slick covered thumb swept across your exposed tongue and abused lips. “Have I fucked you stupid?”

He pressed his thumb down on your tongue so that you couldn’t speak. You tasted the mixture of his and your own cum on his precious thumb and you felt that same gush of fluid leave you. Your entire being thrummed, your heart felt like it might explode, you wanted to thrash and to move away from him to lessen the intensity, but you couldn’t. His grip was too strong and all you could do was cry and whimper as you came again almost immediately after from his continued thrusts and blunt cock head against the very back of your womb. “My dumb little sacrifice,” he groaned. “A perfect little child maker. Spray me one more time, worship me with you entire being.”

His fingers left your mouth and he readjusted you to bend forward in his lap. The tears that had formed began to stream down your face as you shook your head. How could you explode again? Your essence had already sprung from you like a fountain; you couldn’t possibly do it again. Tobirama held you in place by your wrists, keeping you bent over and facing away. Noises you had never made before fell from your throat and squelched from your sex. You heard him grunt in effort and felt the weight of his sack hit against your angry clit once before you convulsed and sprayed again. “Mmm, good girl.”

You felt his cold semen as it burst inside of you once more. It collected in your womb like a pool and furthered your convulsions. He brought you back to his lap and rubbed your aching arms as you continued to shake, and he continued to cum inside of you. Despite the copious amounts of sweat and other fluids caked to both your skin and his all you could feel was the weight of his sperm inside of you and the cold it gave off. “Very good girl,” he muttered against your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

After an unknown amount of time you finally stopped whimpering and shaking, and your tears seemed to dry up. You were parched and sore but you managed to place your hands against the arms that held you once you felt a bit more grounded. You cleared your throat in attempts to get your mind off of the cold that permeated through you and the nervousness that his still rigid member, which remained in your depths, brought forth. “Did that give you enough power to save the village?” Your voice was so hoarse, so overused and abused, but the worst part was the obvious exhaustion.

The effort it took to stay awake to wait for his answer became too great and your eyelids grew too heavy to keep open. Your brain, exceedingly thankful for the much-needed break, turned off almost instantly and you slumped completely in his arms. The rumble of his chest as he began to answer was all you were able to register before total exhaustion embraced you.

“Little mortal,” he began. “There is much more worship to be had.”

tagged list: @therantingfangirl @skydaddy01 @justmyownreality @hashira-mal @sneetsnoot @ladyyanna @ttipsyy @hi-my-name-is-korg @silvermadara

Hashirama||Madara

Season 2

#gods and mortals au #tribute to the gods au #naruto series #mortyvongola2 0 sacrificed series #mortyvongola2 fic #mortyvongola2 fanfic #naruto fanfiction #tobirama senju #tobirama simp #tobirama smut #tobirama #Tobirama Senju smut #fic art #god Tobirama #tobirailme #tobirama x reader #tobirama x y/n #reader insert #tobirama x you

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