# Masterlist !

WestMoon Final Arc Chapter 10 to 12 Update

Date: 15 September 2022 to 24 September 2022

JJK MEN LINKS

TOJI FUSHIGURO

He couldn’t help himself after the shop clerk flirted with you

So deep!

p*ssydrunk

he’s so mean ):

finally giving you that baby you’ve been begging for

NANAMI KENTO

he’s so fucking huge

office pet

what was he supposed to be doing again?

brat taming

helping nanami stay in shape (:

GOJO SATORU

you were a brat so gojo’s making you do all the work ):

“just sit back and let me take care of you”

naughty girls get punished

time to make an heir!

first time seeing each other after a long mission

GETO SUGURU

before the cult meeting

his favorite way to relax after a long day

in front of all his followers

his only exception to hating non-sorcerers <3

first time without a condom ):

SUKUNA RYOMEN

Punishment

training

sukuna’s favorite pet

open wide!

2 hours in…

CHOSO KAMO

choso’s punishment):

he loves to please you

he just wants to feel you as close as possible

he’s desperate for you ):

choso’s payback

Pt. 2 here

enjoy (: remember you have to be logged into twitter (:

Favorite ship dynamics

_•_•_•_•_•_SEVEN DEADLY SINS_•_•_•_•_•_•_

_PRIDE •WRATH•GLUTTONY•LUST•GREED•ENVY•SLOTH_

(gn!readerXharbingers. title ‘pet’ used,dubious consent(dottore),blood mentions,violence,manipulation,you know the drill)

Pierro feels intense Pride when thinking about his social standing. The first harbinger, the strongest, the most valuable asset to the Tsaritsa. He has everything he could need and more but none of those material goods matter when he has himself. He is typically the voice of reason in harbinger meetings, knocking the other members off of their egotistical thrones. He holds an air of importance, the wise man of the group, but behind closed doors, he admires himself in the mirror, telling you the stories behind each scar littering his toned body. Each battle won, each opponent slaughtered, every fight which led to his current status. ‘You should feel lucky,’ he tells you, gripping your chin- forcing you to meet his gaze ‘Without me, you’d still be rotting in some mud-hole in Mondstadt. I saved you, I made you who you are’. You’ve learned to know that he’s right, he’s taught you to cling to his every word. So you shine his shoes, polish his medals, warm his bed and listen to every heroic tale he tells about himself with wide eyed admiration.

Arlecchino possesses a vengeful spirit. She spits venom at those she dislikes and prays for the demise of those who she disagrees with. Plenty of government officials have peeved her enough that she threatens them behind closed doors, huffing about how they don’t deserve to stand behind those podiums or attend royal balls when they’re such disgusting pigs. She slits the throats of anyone who dares question her authority or collects the eyes of henchmen who dare to look at you without her permission. The eyes in question sit in a jar of water on her desk, floating round and round their glass container. Your stomach flips every time you see them, you feel sick knowing that there are more in there than last time. She interrogates you about any interaction you have with anyone who isn’t her. A chat with the maid, a hushed joke with the butler, a compliment sent to the chef. If she deems an interaction as competition for your affection, those others will feel her Wrath. If you care about the lives of the hired staff or fatui henchmen, you better keep to yourself, don’t look at them, don’t talk to them. Unless you want them to feel the cold blade of your wife’s blade at their neck…

If anyone is the embodiment of Gluttony, it’s Capitano. He doesn’t just fight his enemies, he feasts upon them. He drains their will to live, torments them with the tip of his sword until his prey is begging to be put out of their misery. You see the way he eats his meals, as if he’s been starving for weeks. He viciously cuts into his steak, scarred lips curling up into a wretched smile, those silver teeth glinting in the dark. ‘Why don’t you have some, pet? It’s good~’ he offers you a bite, the gravy spills off of the meat and splats onto the table. He huffs behind the mask, baffled and disappointed when you shake your head. You lean back, refusing to take a bite- you could never stomach it even if you wanted to. With a frustrated growl, he slams his fist down onto the table ‘Whatever, no dinner for you then! Stupid fucking brat- give me that’ he snatches your plate away, dumping its contents onto his own. Blood from the meat splatters up onto his chest and mask, soaking into the white coat he wears. You can’t un-see the way he acted earlier, how hungry he was for battle, how he fought like a bear, covered in blood. The image is burned into your mind… If you think about it much more you’ll be sick…

Dottore’s Lust is insatiable. He lusts for knowledge, for power, for more more more of everything he can get his scarred hands on. He neglects you in favor of spending time in his lab, consulting copies of himself for advice or observing what they do. His little meetings with himself last for hours, sometimes days, and when the fumes become too much or he’s too frustrated with his copies to continue, he seeks you out for stress relief. You hear him before you see him, he’s panting and groaning, kicking the door shut behind him as he approaches the bed where you pretend to sleep. Those gloved hands grope and pinch anywhere they can reach, sharp teeth dig into soft flesh. He doesn’t care that he woke you up to do this, doesn’t care that you’re too tired or too unwell. Right now, he’s lusting for you- nearly drooling at the thought of sinking into you. His mask hides his hungry eyes from view but you know his pupils are blown wide, raking over your exposed body as if it’s the first time he’s seen you this way. When he’s in this state, there isn’t much you can do but submit and hope he’ll be gentle though he never is. Evidence of his lust will always be marked onto you in one way or another

Pantalone has been destined for Greed since childhood. He’s told you his story before, how he grew up in a poor village, watching as his friends gained visions for doing the bare minimum. He succeeded in school, wrote novels worth of economic research, crunched numbers day and night yet no vision came. The glowing orb never appeared in his palm, on his desk or in his pocket. He built himself form the ground up, worked his way through the ranks of the Northland Bank and disposed of his peers who threatened to take a promotion before him. He’s worth billions now, he spends his money on items he doesn’t need to fill that gap in his heart. He possesses so much that his mansion is overly full of trinkets and sparkling decorations. He possesses you too and your neck aches as you’re forced to wear gaudy, heavy jewelry. He keeps his possessions close by, never allowing you to leave his line of sight. You’re all his, everything you own is his. Pantalone has a chokehold on you, your savings, your family’s savings. But it’s never enough. It never will be. He’s greedy, he knows he is, and he accepts it fully, smiling as he fills his pockets with mora and diamonds, holding your hand tightly in his own

Envy flows through Tartaglia’s veins, making his blood thicker and bitter. He paces his room, ranting fiercely ‘Why don’t they see how strong I am? Some girl gets to be Number Four while I’m stuck at Eleven? Put us all in a room together, I’ll come out Number One! You’ll see- they’ll ALL see how terribly the underestimated me!’ He laughs, the awful sound bouncing off the walls of the empty corridor. You awkwardly shift your weight, flinching when he yanks you in by your collar ‘You see how strong I am, right?’ You caress his bloodstained cheek, nodding along, reassuring him that the others don’t know what they’re missing. Ajax is so bitter about his position, he believes he deserves more and he’s jealous of those who rank above him. Now that Signora is dead and Scaramouche is missing, he’s eyeing the Eighth and Sixth spots on the roster, badgering his comrades about dueling regulations. He wants to be the best and won’t let anyone get in his way. You better be his biggest supporter… well… it isn’t like you have a choice

Those who exhibit Sloth are often characterized as sleepy or lazy. An uncommon, but perfect, characterization exists for Scaramouche: apathetic. He shows little emotion, marble eyes stare at you without a hint of concern as you hold your bleeding hand up to him. He rolls his eyes as he wraps your injury and simply discards you once he’s finished the task. You don’t believe he loves you, that he’d care if you died or went away forever to live a life with a better man. He degrades you in his monotone voice, lifeless eyes boring into your very soul as you apologize for speaking out of line. You observe him work, listen to him talk to subordinates. He sounds so bored… Part of you wants to test the waters, to throw a fit so dramatic, so catastrophic that he has to respond. But no matter what you do, no matter your injuries, tears, laughter, proclamations of love… you never get a proper response. A dull ‘love you too’ or ‘get out of my face’ is uttered, emotionless and robotic. Giving up would be the easy way out but maybe, just maybe, you can push things further just out of morbid curiosity. Is there anything you can do to get him to see you? To react to you?

remember,

you are a writer.

say it. say it in your head, say it out loud, say it to yourself as many times as you need to say it.

you are a writer.

and it doesn't matter when you started, or where you skills and style lie in this literary world. what matters is that you are a writer and you're sharing your works. sending out real works to publications, literary journals, etc. is scary and rejection is normal. and yet you're here, on tumblr, on ao3, writing works because you can.

and you know what, you're reaching an audience who looks forward to your works and that's something to be proud of. whether it's a few people who read your works, to hundreds, to thousands, you're reaching an audience and you should be proud of that!!

there are times when writing gets hard and giving up feels so easy, but what's so admirable about everyone here is that we keep going. we take breaks and read other people's works, we take hiatuses to focus on ourselves and come back with new ideas and even more writing. and even if you decide that perhaps writing fanfiction isn't your forte anymore, that's okay. you wrote because you could and you did.

you are a writer. and that's something to be very proud of.

Omg how is it even possible to spend more than 100k in 2 days after u got the salary?!

Is it even okay that EVERYTHING IS SUPER EXPENSIVE WTF WITH THIS WORLD

the bites cut deep

a megumi x reader one-shot inspired by this smau // masterlist

cw // mentions of injury (dog bite), blood (minor), dead body (used as a simile). mentions of hospital/clinic, medical care. angst, no comfort, cussing. 1.2k words.

the bites cut deep in more ways than one.

megumi stands awkwardly before you now in a small room within shoko’s office. its familiar to him, but not to you. the room is uneasier than usual. the fluorescent lights make the white of the gauze around your leg glow and the red of your blood even harsher. they buzz too loudly in the silence between you. he wishes he could turn them off, he wishes they didn’t glare across your face so brightly.

“i didn’t tell them to attack you,” megumi finally says, stepping closer to you, just inches away. his words are cold though, unattached. his arms hang limply at his sides, he doesn’t quite meet your eyes. you don’t quite meet his, either.

“so why did they?” you respond, soft and confused. you can’t help but shift in your seat, the paper beneath you on the exam table crinkling through the tension. megumi swallows hard, his gaze flickering away to the linoleum ground beneath his shoes. his hands flex and release, wanting to reach out to you but unable to bring himself to do so through the lie that's about to boil over.

“i don’t know.”

“you don’t know?” this time you look right into his unreadable face. “it’s… that’s not good enough for me.”

megumi clenches his jaw, the tension coiling like a tight spring. “it’s not about you.”

“what are you talking about?” your voice is still quiet, dismayed. “your dogs bit me. how is this not about me?”

“you’re taking this too personally,” you can see his eyes spark with anger, just for a moment.

your heart starts to pound in your chest, the fresh bite marks throbbing in sync with the rhythm. “how am i supposed to take it, then? you told me that your divine dogs respond only to you, to your thoughts and feelings. do you expect me not to feel anything with puncture wounds in my leg?”

“it’s not like i meant for it to happen,” megumi snaps, expression hardening as he finally meets your eyes. “you just don’t understand.”

“then tell me.”

“i don’t know how,” his voice starts to rise. “i don’t know how to explain how dangerous this all is! i don’t know how to make you understand that it’s not safe for you to be around here. or me.”

“i’m not asking for safety, i’m asking for the truth!” your voice cracks with your frustration finally spilling over. “just tell me.”

megumi’s breath hitches. just for a moment, something painful, raw, and unguarded comes across his face. but it's gone after a split second, replaced by the cold, stoic mask he always wears. “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“i think i already know, so just tell me,” your voice trembles. for what seems like an eternity, the two of you just stare at each other. to megumi, you're staring into his soul; picking apart and analyzing every possible atom that creates him. to you, megumi's eyes are simply sharp and angry; deep-blue eyes swirling with hurricanes of regret and resentment.

megumi opens his mouth to speak, then hesitates with a small gasp. the words begin to fall, tight and strained, like you were wrenching them out of his throat by force.

"i don't know how to love you."

you don't respond. your heart twists violently, sending a surge of rushing blood and fear through your bones. it's exponentially more powerful than the adrenaline that ripped through you after the dogs' jaws clamped into your leg.

"i tell myself i don't love you. it's easier than admitting that i'm the one who makes... us... difficult."

"you tell yourself you don't love me?" you whisper, hot tears brimming in your eyes. "since when?"

megumi looks away. "since the beginning."

"the beginning?" the rushing blood in your veins turns hot, your anger growing uncontrollably. "so, what? y-you don't love me? never have? you've just been pretending- no, lying to me all this time?

"no!" he shoots back, voice piercing and defensive. "i wasn't pretending! i just-"

"-you just what?" it's another staring match again. you and the boy you've loved for so long now, bitterly daring the other to speak first.

"it's not that simple."

you don't say anything at first, blinking blankly, attempting to process the muddling emotions in your head. "then explain it. because from what i understand, you've been stringing me along this entire relationship. you've been telling yourself that you don't give a fuck about me while manipulating me to believe you did."

"i care," megumi's voice cracks.

"how?"

"i-that's the problem! i care too much. can't you see that?" he's flipped a switch, almost desperate through the anger to make you understand now. "if i keep loving you, i'm just going to hurt us. i'll just hurt you."

"like you just did?" with wild eyes, you gesture towards the gauze around your leg, still pulsing with pain.

"yeah..." megumi swallows. "...like i just did."

"...i don't get it, megumi," the tears are slipping down your cheeks now. "you just... convinced yourself i wasn't real? and the dogs came after me because of that? i don't get it."

"i don't know," his chest heaves. "i let myself feel what i want when i'm with you. and when i leave, i just... tell myself how fucking stupid i am for letting myself do that. it's better than hurting you."

"you've already hurt me, megumi!" you sob. "and you've been doing it this entire time we've been together, it's just that neither of us even knew it!"

his face completely falls now, eyes wide with disbelief. he doesn't even feel the pain of his fisted nails digging into his palms, knuckles bright white. "i thought it was better this way," he whispers hoarsely.

"maybe for you," you wipe at your tears, the aching in your chest growing stronger with each heartbeat. "i never wanted you to protect me from whatever feelings you were hiding. i just wanted you."

"i-i don't know how to do that," he stammers. "i'm sorry. i... don't know how to give myself to you."

"i just don't think you want to."

silence falls like a dead body between you. megumi is forlorn, grasping desperately for words, the right words, to say to you. he wants to tell you 'i do! i do want to! that's what i've wanted all along!' but it doesn't come. he tries to tell you 'i love you, please... i always have. please, teach me how to let me love you?' but he's frozen with a compulsing heart.

megumi watches your wet, wounded eyes rise from the floor and directly into his own. he watches you search hopelessly for something, anything, in his face. something to save you, something to save him. but it just isn't there.

in that exact moment, megumi realizes that he cares too much. he loves you too much. and no matter the extent his care for you goes, he will never be able to truly let you in.

"leave, megumi."

and without another word, he finds his body moving against his thoughts. megumi doesn't look back. the door latches loudly behind him, leaving you completely alone. the buzzing of the sickening flourescent lights returns in full force, making bile rise in your throat.

the bites cut deep in more ways than one.

© vorfreudevortex | all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, repost, or otherwise share my work.

They kiss on the ring. I carry the crown. (Chapter 1)

When your job requires you to meet Yakuza boss Sukuna, you hope that the house viewing will be over quickly and you will never see him again. But no one prepared you for how enticing the King of Tokyo's underworld is. And suddenly, you are in way over your head.

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: Mafia AU, smut, a bit fluffy too though because I love fluff Playlist: Mafia AU Word Count: 4k Warnings: 18+, smut, some dark crime-related themes (Yakuza, implied violence, implied murder in later chapters, gambling, alcohol), use of the name Daddy in later chapters, oral, fingering, creampie, cum eating, light spanking, exhibitionism in later chapters (that part could be initially seen as dubcon, but he gets consent from her). All characters are of age. This story is 18+. Minors don't interact.

I wrote this story for my friend's The Killers lyrics collab. Thank you so much for this amazing collab @adelheidvonschicksal . My lyrics prompt is: They kiss on the ring. I carry the crown. Nothing can break, nothing can break me down. The Killers - The man.

Sometimes you think it would have been better if you had never met him. You blame your job on it. It was something you had wanted to achieve for years. Being high enough in the ranks that you were the one getting sent to meet the high-end customers and show them around in the most luxurious living spaces Tokyo had to offer.

He was your second high-end customer. You read the name and your eyes widened. Your boss laughed.

"Pretty impressive, huh? Don't fuck it up. We want him as a regular customer. Heard he isn't so happy with his current real-estate agent, so this is our big chance."

You met him a week later in a penthouse that was exactly as he had wanted. And he was as impressive as you had expected. The intensity with which he looked at you with those glinting maroon-colored eyes took your breath away. He was tall, handsome, exuding authority and wealth.

And danger. He was a dangerous man, only in his late twenties but already the head of one of the most influential Yakuza clans.

Itadori Sukuna. Also known as Ryomen Sukuna. That was the alias he was famous for. The man with the two faces. Rich, popular playboy, and businessman on the one hand. Ruthless killer and sadist, on the other.

You addressed him by his real name first. But he just laughed and shook his head.

"No need to be so formal. Call me Sukuna. I think we'll see each other regularly now. I got a big payment that needs to be invested into real estate, and one apartment won't do."

He was charming. Polite and smart, ready to make a joking comment all the time, grinning in a handsome boyish way, moving so gracefully and looking effortlessly sexy. He had a way of making everyone fascinated with him. You had been scared when he first walked towards you in his custom-tailored black suit and the slicked-back pink hair, black tattoos visible on his wrists and neck, and of course on his face. Only someone as powerful as him could have the nerve to walk around with Yakuza tattoos so provocatively visible at all times. He looked intimidating. But his charm worked in his favor, and the more time you spent showing him around, the more comfortable you felt. You didn't realize the web he was weaving until it was too late, and you were caught in it. He had been subtly luring you in, seducing you, the whole afternoon.

And then you bumped into his muscular body when you were trying to take a step back from the wine fridge you had been presenting to him, and suddenly his large hands were on your hips, steadying you.

"Easy there, you should be careful, don't want you to fall, do we?"

His deep voice was warm like honey, so seductive, just like the feeling of his warm breath on your neck.

He knew it just as much as you did. You were already falling. He had laid out a trap, and you had stepped into it.

Thinking back to that day, you can't say what it was exactly that made you give yourself to him. Was it his natural dominance and power? His good looks and the confidence? Or the danger lurking beneath his charming attitude? Maybe it was a combination of all of this that led to a temptation you couldn't resist.

What you know for certain is that you didn't pull away when his lips brushed over your neck.

Instead, you let out a shuddering sigh and leaned back against his solid body, craning your neck, offering more of your sensitive skin to him.

And he laughed that rude laugh before his hand pulled the collar of your blouse to the side, exposing more of your skin. His soft tongue licked a wet stripe all the way from your left shoulder up to your neck until his lips closed around your skin right under your jaw, where your pulse was fluttering nervously, and sucked on it.

You melted under his warm lips and tongue, his big hands on your hips, trailing up your sides before they unbuttoned your blouse, cupping your tits through your bra, making you gasp when his thumbs slipped inside and teased your nipples.

You were lost when you felt his firm, strong body press against you, lean, solid muscles, and a deliciously big hard bulge rubbing against your ass.

You knew he could do anything he wanted to you. He was so strong, so tall. He was so powerful. He could literally make sure you'd never get found again, and there was nothing anyone could ever do about it.

Because he was Sukuna. He was above the law. He was the King of Tokyo's underworld.

Maybe there was something wrong with you. Because it wasn't fear that you felt when this dangerous man undressed you. When he ran his warm, calloused hands over your body, twirling your nipples between his fingers. When he was caressing tight circles around your embarrassingly wet clit. When he slapped your ass before pulling down your panties. When he got on his knees behind you to fuck you with his tongue until you sobbed.

All you felt was desire. A craving so intense that you thought you'd die if you didn't get more of him.

You didn't tell him it wasn't appropriate for a customer to yank off your panties, lift you up, and slam you against the fridge. You didn't ask him to let you go when he rubbed his wonderful thick cockhead over your wet clit, laughing at the needy sounds you made.

He almost caressed you to orgasm with his cockhead, and you didn't tell him to stop. Instead, all you said to him was:

"Please... oh please..."

"What, please? Huh, princess, what is it that you need? Tell me. Say it."

"You!"

He chuckled, sounding amused and almost cruel,

"Me? You're a cute one. Do you really think you can have Sukuna?"

His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling your head back, making you look up at him, at the smug smirk on his handsome face, the challenging glint in his eyes.

He leaned closer, lips brushing over yours before he licked your cheek, groaning softly when his tongue swiped up a tear that was running down your face.

His voice was low, a growl, so seductive that it made your body tremble in his strong arms.

"Let's make a deal. You can have my cock today. We'll see about the rest."

You didn't complain when he pushed his thick cock into your tight heat. Your legs tightened around his hips desperately, pussy sucking him in needily, making obscene squelching noises when he fucked into you. You had never been so wet for anyone.

He fucked you with rough deep thrusts, snapping his hips almost brutally, knocking the air out of you anytime his strong body pushed you hard against the fridge behind you.

But you didn't ask him to be more gentle. You didn't tell him to be careful so the expensive fridge wouldn't get any scratches. Instead, you twisted your fingers in his soft pink hair and moaned in sweet abandon, riding his gorgeous cock eagerly, meeting each of his hard thrusts with a needy roll of your hips.

"Yeah, baby. You like that, don't you? Getting fucked against the fridge like that. I knew you had it in you from the first moment I laid my eyes on you. Not as innocent as you look. Pussy so hungry for some bad boy dick."

You moaned at his words, hips jerking hard. And he laughed. Slapped your ass and laughed and rammed his cock into your soaking wet pussy, fucking you with hard deep strokes.

"That turns you on, huh? So fucking cute. And you're good at it too. Taking me so well. Can you take my bad boy cum too? Gonna fuck you so full of it. I'll give you my lawyer's card in case ya want to claim child support later on."

"Ah! It..it's ok...I'm on birth control... ah...!"

"Nice, but I wouldn't have cared either way. A cute pussy like yours needs to be filled up no matter what."

You should probably have been appalled by this, but you weren't. If anything, it made you even wetter.

You cried his name when you clenched desperately on his cock, your juices making a mess all over his cock as he fucked you through your orgasm and kept on ramming into you until he groaned into your neck and fucked spurt after spurt of his hot cum into you.

Afterwards, he helped you get dressed again. He was a gentleman, well mannered when he wanted to, polite.

And yet he picked up your panties from the kitchen floor and smiled at the creamy mess on them, pressed them against his face, and inhaled your scent deeply, swiping his tongue over them to scoop up your wetness. It was obscene. It was humiliating. Your face felt so hot, but Sukuna just laughed when his gaze met yours.

"No need to be ashamed. You were just really horny for me, princess. It's ok, I understand that. And I took good care of your needy little pussy for you, didn't I?"

He got on his knees in front of you, lifted your leg, and helped you into the panties, pulling them up slowly, his mouth following the way of his hands up your thighs, leaving soft kisses and little bites all over your skin. Until he reached your core and pressed a firm kiss on your now panty-clad clit.

He straightened up a moment later, tucking himself back into his pants and running a hand through his hair to smooth it down again, looking so unaffected as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. As if he hadn't fucked your brains out just a few minutes ago.

He turned to look at you with that cheeky smirk again.

"I'll take the apartment. I quite like the kitchen. The fridge is nice. Do you have the papers with you?"

You managed a weak smile and fumbled with your bag, fishing out the sale contract and placing it on the kitchen counter.

Sukuna didn't even bother reading it. He just held out a hand to you, demanding a pen.

"It would be my pleasure to do more business with your company in the future. Only if they send you as my personal real-estate agent, though. Arrange that for me, will you please, darling?"

His smirk was so insolent, and his maroon eyes bored into yours with a devilish glint in them, daring you to defy him, which of course, you didn't. Instead, you mustered up a smile and nodded, handing him the pen with a shaky hand, and watched as he signed his name under the contract.

He handed you the pen back, thumb caressing over your hand, sending shivers down your spine.

You returned to your office feeling like a whore as you placed the signed contract on your boss' desk, sure that everyone could see what you had been up to. Your panties were soaking wet, messed up from a mixture of your own creamy arousal and Sukuna's cum.

But no one said anything. Your boss was ecstatic, congratulating you and making you have a drink with him to celebrate this lucrative deal.

And that's how you met one of the most powerful mafia bosses of the world and became his little plaything.

He called you at work the next day. Your heart leaped to your throat when you heard his low sexy voice drawl your name making it sound like something lewd.

You looked around nervously, glad that you didn't have to share your office with anyone else, but still feeling as if the walls had eyes and were judging you for the throbbing between your thighs and the heat spreading through your belly upon hearing the Yakuza King's voice.

Sukuna talked business, asking for detailed information about the cleaning services available for the new penthouse you sold to him yesterday. It was something you could have easily told his personal assistant.

And yet Sukuna's voice was in your ear, caressing you through the phone, making you close your eyes and take a deep breath as you tried to fight the craving the soft, deep timbre of his velvety voice stirred in you.

"The standard cleaning contract includes anything you can find under number 4. It's rather basic, though. Sufficient if you want to let the apartment stay unoccupied. But if you decide to move in, I would suggest booking the comfort or deluxe options."

"How long did my cum leak out of you, princess? Did you shower right when you came home? Or did you want to keep it in you a bit longer? Did you maybe even finger yourself and fuck it back into you?"

You sat there, pressing your legs together desperately under your desk as he whispered those dirty things into the phone. You didn't know how to respond. But Sukuna wasn't waiting for an answer anyways. Before you could say anything, he already added:

"I want to see you again."

You couldn't help but moan softly at his words. It was pathetic how much you craved him. How much it affected you to hear that he wanted to get more of you.

Your voice sounded hoarse when you answered:

"I just got a new object in Shibuya in. Maybe you are interested in that? I could show you around..."

Your heart was beating so fast that you were scared you'd faint right there at your desk. The effect Sukuna had on you was embarrassing. And the worst thing was that he seemed to be so in control, so unaffected, when he laughed softly into the phone. His low voice was making your pussy throb when he said:

"It would be a pleasure. Tell me, Miss, what is the most impressive thing about that object?"

"The description says it has a beautiful, spacious sauna room."

"Sounds like a good place for you to ride my dick. I'm free at 5. Send me the location, sweetheart."

This little game continued for several weeks. Sukuna called you every other day. Never one of his assistants, always Sukuna personally. Asked you about possible new objects he could invest his money in. Made you read the descriptions to him. It always started as a regular business call. But after a while, he would say other things, taking the call in another direction.

"I want to bend you over my desk and watch you take my cock like a good little pet while you drool all over my bookkeeping files."

He always managed to make you cream your panties, being so out of it that you couldn't function properly.

And always his soft:

"I want to see you."

You agreed to meet him every time. You showed him new objects all the time. Only for Sukuna to fuck you in all of them. In luxurious beds with a view over Tokyo's skyline. On shiny kitchen counters and expensive designer couches. On beautiful marble floors because Sukuna couldn't wait and just ripped your panties down and took you right there on the floor.

It was your secret.

It felt forbidden. Meeting the Yakuza boss to let him kiss you and put his body on you. Giving in to the craving you felt anytime you thought about him.

Sukuna definitely wasn't the type of guy you should hook up with regularly. But he was the only one you wanted.

You chatted with some guys on the dating app you had installed, even met one of them for coffee. But they were nothing compared to the King of Tokyo's underworld. How could they? They were mere boys, while Sukuna was a powerful man.

He was exciting. He was sexy. He made you feel alive.

Meeting him always felt dangerous. It made your blood rush, made your nerve ends tingle with anticipation, breath coming out in excited little gasps. One look in his eyes, and you were lost. His lips made you drunk. His touch sent your head spinning. His cock made you feel like you were in heaven.

He became your drug. And you couldn't stop consuming him, always seeking that rush again, that feeling only he could give you.

It was after several weeks of clandestine meetings that things took a turn in an unexpected direction.

You were on the phone with Sukuna once again, and the conversation once again reached the point where he said:

"I want to see you."

You already showed him a floor in a spacious office building this week, and you hadn't been able to sit comfortably for two days after he dicked you down on one of the desks, bending you over it and fucking you so rough that all the files on top of it had tumbled down.

You had run out of objects to show him, especially since it was the end of the week. There was only one thing left.

"I could show you the weekend getaway you are interested in if you like."

You could hear the satisfied smirk in his voice as he purred into the phone:

"That would be splendid. But I want to get the whole experience before I invest my money in that. It costs a little fortune, after all. My driver will pick you up Friday at 8. Make sure we have the lodge all weekend."

He hung up on you before you could reply. Your heart was beating up to your throat. A whole weekend with Sukuna?

It was the worst idea ever.

It was the most tempting offer ever.

It was something you craved to a scary extent.

You decided to let fate decide. Surely your boss would turn the inquiry down and tell you it wasn't possible to let a potential buyer stay in an object for a whole weekend.

It turned out that the current proprietor was fine with it. He just wanted to sell the house for a reasonable price. And your boss was very adamant that you should sacrifice your weekend for this because, after all, Sukuna was your best customer! Anything to make him happy!

And so you spent the weekend getting fucked so full of Sukuna's bad boy cum that you were sure you would leak his seed for days afterwards.

He had you in his limousine on the drive to the lodge. Bounced you up and down on his thick cock while his face was buried between your tits and his tongue lapped hungrily at your nipples.

Once you reached your destination, he fucked you in the wonderfully soft bed next to the large window with a beautiful view of the beach. Made you sob his name and beg him for his dick while you were tangled in silk sheets and had the taste of expensive wine and chocolate on your tongue.

Later on he poured some of that chocolate over your naked body and licked it all up with his soft tongue, kissed and slurped it out of your jerking pussy until your cream joined the chocolate on his tongue, and he laughed against your sensitive bud.

He let you ride him in the jacuzzi on the porch while sipping champagne out of the most delicate crystal glasses. Told you how beautiful you looked when you fucked him here under the stars. He moaned your name into the night while his strong fingers tightened on your ass, and he pressed you down onto his cock fucking you full of his seed once again.

He was the best lover you ever had. He was rough at times but also could make slow sweet love to you. You got everything you ever dreamed of from him. He was unashamed and exuded confidence at all times. He knew how to drive you crazy, knew how to make you cum harder than you ever had before.

But he didn't just fuck you on that weekend. What the two of you had wasn't just sex anymore. It was more. And that was actually nice.

Sukuna was a charming man, even sweet when he wanted to. He could make you laugh, and when he smiled, he looked so pretty that it made your stomach do somersaults.

Here in the lodge at the beach, he wasn't the Yakuza boss. He was just a man enjoying his time away from work. He had replaced his usual suits with a plain black shirt and some dark red chinos or grey cashmere sweatpants, which hung so low on his hips that it was hard to focus on anything else but his v-line.

He took you on a night walk down at the beach, holding your hand the whole time and pulling you into his strong arms when you were getting cold. He lay with you in the sand to point up at the starry sky above you and explain the constellations and the myths behind them.

He didn't have sex with you during that walk. Just talked to you, and kissed you slowly, made you drunk on his lips and his sweet tongue. He made you feel special with the way he looked at you, as if you were more fascinating than all the stars above.

He made love to you later on when you were back in the weekend house, moving slowly on top of you, kissing you, and whispering sweet praise to you.

"God, you cum so prettily on my cock every single time."

It was on the second day that he came up to you while you were gazing out the window that overlooked the beach. He wrapped his strong arms around you, resting his chin on your shoulder, and pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

"I like being with you."

"Do you tell that to everyone you take on a weekend trip?"

He snorted in amusement and made you turn around. A strong hand cupped your chin and tilted your face up. His maroon eyes were burning with an unnamed emotion as he told you:

"I don't take anyone else on weekend trips. You're the only one. And I would like to keep it that way."

"You just met me a few weeks ago, Sukuna."

"So what? I know what I want. Or do you want to question my ability to make decisions?"

But his tone was amused, almost affectionate. And his thumb caressed your bottom lip tenderly. He smiled when you flicked the tip of your tongue over his fingertip before taking his thumb into your mouth and sucking on it.

He fucked you against the window, pressing your ass against the cold glass and looking so gorgeous in the soft colors of the sun setting over the ocean, his eyes closing in pleasure when he shot his cum into your spasming pussy.

You knew you had a big problem.

You were too lost in everything he did since that very first day you met. Too lost in him. He had yanked you into this new exciting world of sex and money and danger. And you didn't want to leave again.

You felt regret when Sunday evening arrived and with it the black S-class to take the two of you back to the city. The weekend with Sukuna had been lovely.

You were sitting in the back of the limousine, sipping champagne, and next to you, Sukuna was catching up on his business e-mails while he had one large hand placed firmly on top of your thigh.

And you caught yourself thinking that it felt like the two of you were a couple. You liked it. You liked the thought of being the woman by his side.

He kissed you so sweetly good night before you slipped out of his car. The last seductive flick of his tongue made your legs shake even when you already stood on the pavement and watched the impressive vehicle with the black tinted windows drive down the street and finally vanish in the heavy Tokyo traffic.

Your bed felt too empty that night. You shivered without Sukuna's body heat to keep you warm. And in your dreams, all you saw was the beach and the glittering stars and Sukuna smiling at you.

Looking back, you know that the weekend trip was what made you fall for him. It wasn't just physical attraction anymore after that little getaway. Your heart yearned for him too.

Thank you so much for reading! When I read the lyrics, I immediately imagined a Mafia AU, and of course, it had to be about Sukuna! Tbh I was unsure first how the writing would go because it was something I had never written before. But it was so much fun, and Sukuna just took over the story like the King that he is lmaoo. I fell more and more in love with Yakuza boss Sukuna with every new paragraph I wrote. He's really charming, I guess! I hope you are a bit in love with him too and that you enjoyed this story! There will be two more chapters. Please let me know what you think! I would be very happy about comments and reblogs!

Here is chapter 2

The First Contract Index.

Rating: E (Sexual content, yandere themes, unhealthy relationships) Pairing(s): Yandere Zhongli/Reader and Yandere Xiao/Reader

Synopsis: 

“There was once a time when the nation known as Liyue hadn’t yet been named…”

You have been given many titles and names throughout Liyue’s existence. Vephar, The God of Sand, and even The God of Love; the descriptions varying in their validity. The true nature of your relationship with Rex Lapis has become a relic of the past. Mortals celebrate your union as the ideal love, but reality is far more unkind with its descriptions. 

There was no love on your behalf, only coercion, and a desperation to do anything to ensure your follower’s survival. 

The God of Contracts had you, and the final living Yaksha wished that he could someday as well.

Main Storyline. 

[Italics signifies that the story is not SFW]

The First Contract. [Yan Zhongli x F Reader] Restitute. [Yan Zhongli x Reader]  Favoritism. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] To Covet. [Yan Xiao x Reader] Eros. [Yan Xiao x F Reader] Blindspot. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] Seasonal Difficulties. [Yan Zhongli x F Reader] Improvised Ballad. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] Rejoice, Rejoice. [Yan Zhongli x Reader] High Strung. [Yan Xiao x Reader]

Misc. 

God Darling’s outfit(s). God Darling’s Misc Info. General headcanons.  The First Contract timeline. Voice lines about God Darling I. Voice lines about God Darling II. Voice lines about God Darling III. God Darling’s voice lines on the others. God Darling’s weapon. Etymology/Lore I. Lore II. First Contract tag. 

cheol moments that live rent free in my mind🍒💞 #HappySeungcherryDay #띵동띵동_승철이_생일이다_문열어