Latest Posts by monokyubey - Page 5

Don't you just love the duality of Aizawa's scarf?

Some nights, he'll wrap the two of you up in it so that you're snuggled all warm and cozy together. He'll nuzzle his nose to yours, cupping your cheek tenderly, whispering words of affirmations to you. I love you. You're safe with me. I trust you with all my life.

Other nights, he'll bind your wrists with it, pinning them above your head so that he can fuck the ever living daylights out of you. He'll have you in a mating press, your ankles propped on his shoulders, knees pushed towards your chest, just pounding his thick cock in and out of you like there's no tomorrow. It's only after you orgasm three times that he'll finally unravel, his scarf loosening so that he can lace his fingers with yours, pumping his cum inside you.

s. aizawa + "nobody likes a secret."

— suggestive themes, gn!reader, alcohol consumption, reader is a pro hero + UA teacher

— requested by @artemis32 for my five seconds flat event <3

"Y'know what?" you prompt, cheek smushed into the tabletop as you eye the man sitting next to you. "I think you like me." It comes out matter-of-factly, because obviously you're right. You pop back up to take another sip of your drink, frowning at the watered-down alcohol as you near the end of it.

Aizawa tries not to stare at your wet lips wrapped around your plastic straw, but thankfully you're too engrossed in sipping up every last drop to notice him failing miserably.

"Well, you should stop thinking," he suggests, pulling the glass away from your lips before you spill ice down your shirt.

"God," you groan, "'M trying to!"

The UA faculty appreciation party was in full-swing and downright boring. The only thing keeping you going was the open bar and a suited-up Aizawa Shouta sitting at your lonesome table.

He hums, watching you snatch up his own drink with a raised brow.

You take a sip before pushing it back over to him, wincing at the harsh burn sliding down your throat. You contemplate the small chuckle at your expression, analyzing the sharpness of his jaw, his heavy-lidded eyes, and the pink of his lips. “I think you should come to my place.”

“What did I just tell you to stop doing?”

“Exactly. I stopped thinking— so you should finish that drink, admit you do like me, and then you should come home with me.” You flash a toothy smile like you didn’t just ask him to sleep with you, and nudge his glass further into his hand.

He meets your eye, hardly blinking while trying to process if you’re screwing with him or not. Because you were always one to leave things professional, drawing clear lines in the sand with flashing lights and blaring sirens warning DO NOT CROSS.

Casual sex amongst the pros was far from uncommon, but you were far from casual. He knows this.

So when you look up at him all pretty, with a tipsy smile and a foot not-so-innocently trailing up his calf, Aizawa listens like a smart man, and downs the rest of his bourbon. He ushers you out the side door with a large hand splayed across the small of your back, "Maybe you're right," he whispers, the low vibrations of his voice rumbling against your ear as he flags down a cab.

. . .

Warm sheets drape over your shoulders as the morning sunlight peeks in from behind the curtains. You're roused from slumber by a grating trill sounding from your bedside table. Your phone rings ceaselessly, and you will it in your mind to silence it as you bury your cheek into your pillow, hoping that whoever is calling you will stop.

They don't.

Huffing, you shove the blanket down, allowing the morning chill to litter your skin with goosebumps as you blindly reach for your phone. Not bothering to check the caller ID, you answer the call, knowing it's just your friend checking up on you.

"Hey, did I wake you?"

You reply with nothing more than an affirmative groan.

Her hearty laugh echoes through the speaker, "Sorry, sorry! Just calling to make sure you're still alive. You are still alive, right? I didn't see you leave last night."

"Yeah, I'm alive," you offer, a sleepy smile making its way to your face. "Sorry I didn't tell you I was leaving. Had some company."

"Oh? Well, you can't leave me hanging! Who was it? Wait, wait, wait— are they still there?!" she whisper-yells, as if anyone else could hear her in your bedroom.

Well— behind you, a deep, low grumble grabs your attention. Chapped lips kiss along your jaw, "'Mornin'," Aizawa whispers, too low for your friend to hear clearly.

"Oh my God, they so are! Who is that?!"

"Can I call you back?" you evade, leaning into the sweet, heady kisses Aizawa starts pressing into your skin.

"What—? No! C'monnn, spill already. Nobody likes a secret," she pleads, desperate for any clues.

You're about to insist on calling her later, but his impatience rears its very horny head. He slings a thick, muscled thigh over your waist, pulling your hips flush against his as he rolls on top of your figure.

"Shouta—!" you yelp, desire sparking hot and low in your tummy. Aizawa's teeth teasingly nip at the soft skin of your chest, and his tongue laves at the dips and divots along the column of your neck. His stubble scratches at your skin in the loveliest of ways, and you almost forget you're still on the phone.

"Hang up," he mumbles, his nose and lips now grazing dangerously close to the mic on your cell, burying his face into your neck as his rapidly stiffening cock begins to rut against your thigh.

"No fucking way."

A surprised giggle slips from your mouth, "You heard the man. Gotta go!"

✶ — m.lists

✶ — replies + reblogs appreciated !

Baby

Warnings: PIV, afab!reader, slight dom!Aizawa, slight sub!reader, a little bit of uniform kink, some choking, overstim, dirty talk, begging, praise, breeding, wanting a baby. 

Relationship: Shota Aizawa x wife!reader

Shota thinks you’re irresistible. He knows you think lowly of yourself, that sometimes you get up in your own head about your body, your personality, your skills… people have put you down, hurt you, but never him. Shota doesn’t care if he spends his whole life making you realize you’re the best woman on planet earth, he’d do it all over again. 

It’s your anniversary tonight. During the day, it’s work. You’re subbing for Mic in English, his gorgeous wife drilling vocabulary and grammar into their heads until their brains hurt. He sits with you at lunch, watches you eat the lunch he made for you while you laugh at his jokes. You play with your necklace, dragging the pendant up and down the chain, and Shota might sound like a degenerate when he says this but… seeing you in your teaching uniform really does something for him. 

He’s thought about before, why he always thought you looked so good while teaching, and he wants to think it’s because you’re in your element, teaching the kids, doing something you love, but in reality it’s because your teaching clothes involve form-fitting clothing and not your normal sweatpants and big shirt combo. He thinks that’s sexy too but seeing you in a button down… in a skirt and a short heel… wearing earrings and makeup? He’s been thinking about dragging you to the supply closet on the fourth floor, the one isolated from the rest of the school, and hiking your skirt up like the dirty man you’ve turned him into.

Keep reading

Arthur Pendragon - The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse - Episode 24

Arthur Pendragon - The Seven Deadly Sins: Four Knights of the Apocalypse - Episode 8

Choso is 100% a chubby girl fan. I feel like this man is completely BAFFLED at the fact that some men don't like plump women?? Are they stupid??? Why would someone dislike a woman having curves and a soft body???

Choso loves to just let his hands slide down your plush frame, kissing your neck and groping your ass and plump tummy while he whispers how adorable he finds you and that when you get home, he's gonna make sure you know that♡♡

Choso is a strong dude, I mean look at him!!!! When you say you're embarrassed of your weight and get nervous about him picking you up, this man just lifts you up like you weigh NOTHING, leaving you amazed and also horny asf.....

Choso who loves to put you in a full nelson, watching the way your tummy rolls up and your thighs squish together while he holds you up and pummels your pussy♡ he absolutely ADORES his sweet princess, and loves her sweet plushy body!! ♡♡♡

(wrote this for comfort bc as a thick girl it's ROUGH OUT HERE 😭)

Chaos’s Queen

My Navigation and Masterlist

Pairing(s): Chaos!Arthur Pendragon x Fem!Reader Summary: Arthur shows you what you've been missing out on as Queen. Warnings: Smut, consensual sex (CONSENT IS SEXY KIDS), oral (r! receiving), cunnilingus, throne sex, major overstimulation, fingering, Arthur using his chaos power for sexual uses, body worship (maybe?), praise kink, slightly degrading terms (but no name calling such as slut, whore, etc - I will cry), pet names (pretty girl, sweetheart, darling, my queen, your highness), slight choking kink, throne kink, crown kink, lots of eye contact, no use of (y/n). Word Count: 3,630 Extra Notes: Arthur is in his 30s in this fic, just like he was when he had the chaos power and is the King

HISS HISS PEOPLE UNDER THE AGE OF 18 YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED! YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR MEDIA CONSUMPTION.

Your eyes looked back and forth between your lover's and the doors of the throne room you stood outside of. Arthur had a sweet smile on his face as he led you through the doors and into the room. It was empty inside, safe for a few servants cleaning and polishing the throne, the gold shining and sparkling with the final rays of the setting sun shining through the room’s windows.

“You’re all dismissed.” He said in a cold tone even though his eyes and smile remained locked on you. “Except you.” His sweet smile transitioned into a smirk and a shiver ran down your spine.

You knew that look.

As the last servant left the room, the throne doors slammed shut by an invisible source and the room’s windows were covered by curtains that were not there a moment before.

Oh god.

You were really in for it.

“Sweetheart, why don’t you come here.” He gently took your hand in his large hands, calloused from years of sword-holding and battle training but soft in their touch for you. Leading you to his throne, he motioned for your to sit. You hesitated, confused, and opened your mouth to speak when his hand reached out and his thumb ran over your bottom lip, pulling it down slightly and trapping your words in your throat. “Just sit,” His thumb left your lips only to be replaced by a slow kiss from his own. “Tonight,” He started speaking, mumbling against your lips. “Tonight you’re the one getting worshipped.” He gently moved you as he kissed you again until your knees backed up against the edge of the throne and pushed you back, making you lose your balance and fall onto it. He smirked, looking down at your slightly disheveled state, flushed cheeks, and the edge of your thinly strapped dress falling off your shoulder, revealing your neck and collarbones to the king’s eyes. Both his hands fell to the armrests to support himself as he leaned down and trailed his nose up from the slight bit of cleavage your dress showed and over your collarbone, stopping momentarily every second to leave teasing kisses along his path that left you breathy and panting, up to right below your ear.

“I’ve had an idea for a while now that I’ve been just dying to try,” He whispered hotly into the skin where your jaw met your neck. “I’ve just been waiting,” he nipped at your skin, “and waiting,” and again, “and waiting,” he growled out before lightly biting down into the crease of your shoulder and neck. You released a low moan at the unexpected act. You felt his lips move into a smirk before his tongue dipped out and he smoothed it over the bitten skin as he released a low moan of his own.

He backed up suddenly and you almost let out a yelp at how you fell forward to chase after his touch. His eyes lit up to see how desperate you were slowly becoming for him.

Taking a moment to take in your appearance once more, he let out a hum of satisfaction before smirking and staring directly into your eyes as he knelt to one knee, and then to the other until he was kneeling before you. His arms rested on the small space beside your thighs the throne gave him, his thumbs just barely grazing along the silk and mesh fabric of your golden and white dress as he leaned in and pressed his face into your stomach. Grazing his nose up and down, going further down each time, reaching closer to where you needed him most. His hands moved from the throne to down where your dress ended at your calves and started lifting it slightly which made your breath hitch.

“You always look so damn good in these dresses, dressed like a queen and looking like one too,” He practically moaned out as his nose hovered right above your arousal and he took a deep breath in. You whimpered at the praise. “It’s about damn time you got treated like one too.”

“Arthur,” you breathed out so softly you were even sure if he heard you but when he tilted his head up to look you in the eyes with a teasing smirk you knew he had. “Arthur, please don’t tease me,” you begged, your voice only a fraction louder than your first call of his name.

“But you sound so sweet when I tease you, your little breathy moans like sweet music to my ears every single time,” He suddenly stuck his nose right up against your clit through your thin dress fabric and a surprised gasp left your parted lips.

As you continued to whimper and plead while he continued to tease you, he finally had some mercy on you and brought the lining of your dress up to your thighs. Looking up at you in a moment of softness, he looked into your eyes with a concerned and questioning look, silently asking for your consent. You gave him a small smile and nodded before leaning down slightly to give him a slow, light kiss. Just as you were about to lift your hips to help him take your dress off, there was a gust of wind, forcing you to close your eyes. When you opened them your dress was nowhere to be seen. Your body was left bare except for your matching set of bra and panties.

You shivered as your bare skin touched the cool surface of the golden throne, but the light touches from calloused fingers warmed your body instantly. He slowly trailed his fingers up your legs, touch so light it felt feathery. Starting at your calves, his fingers danced higher and higher, drawing light circles every once in a while. Reaching your thighs, the touch started to get heavier. Rougher.

He started kneading your outer thighs, still refusing to touch anywhere that would give you the stimulation you needed. His kisses traveled down from the crevice of your neck to the valley between your breasts, leaving bite marks and kiss stains littered across your skin.

Finally. Finally. His kisses stopped and his breath hovered over the, now damp with your arousal, fabric of your panties.

With no warning, he shoved his face into your dripping cunt and started licking at you through the fabric ever so slowly, still wanting to tease you until you got so desperate you started begging with everything you had.

"Arthur, please!" You whined as he pulled his mouth away and blew cold air on your drenched undergarment.

He smirked.

Pulling your panties down past your ankles and across the room with your dress, he shoved his mouth into you again. His lips wrapped around your clit and sucked roughly sending an intense wave of euphoria throughout your entire body. Your back arched and you moaned loudly. Your hands reached out to grab onto his hair before they were grabbed by cold gold hands and restrained against the armrests of the throne chair.

He tsked and smirked as his chaos power activated, "No, no, sweetheart, just relax. Today is all about you," He spoke directly against your clit, the vibrations of his words sending jolts through your bones and tingles to the back of your head. "You've been working so hard recently," He licked at your clit between his words, continuing to give you pleasure while praising you. "Training with the new guards," another lick, "Helping me calm down whenever I get too stressed or angry," and another, "Sitting with me through those boring meetings that make me want to rip my hair out," His lingering frustration over his duties as a king slipped out through his actions. His tongue got rougher, his lips wrapped around your clit sucked harder, and his fingers that were holding your thighs apart for his assault on your sex gripped stronger.

He brought you to your first orgasm like that.

Your moans echoed throughout the room as he continued his movements to ride you through your high. As your body slowly relaxed into the golden frame of the throne once more, his tongue continued to lap up the remnants of your orgasm. Being overly sensitive from the said orgasm that happened barely moments ago, you squirmed against his strong grip.

"Arthur, ah, Arthur please, agh, it-it's too much," you moaned out as your lover's tongue continued to bring you to heaven and back.

“Gods, you taste just as good as I remember, so sweet. It's alright pretty girl just sit back and let me do all the work. You deserve every ounce of pleasure I give you," He ignored your pleas and activated his chaos power again to grab hold of your thighs for him and hold them apart to keep your struggling against his tongue to a minimum. Your legs shook as his fingers slowly glided up their way to your inner thighs and caressed the treasure in between. His tongue came off of your clit with a wet popping sound and you moaned - whether in relief or desperation, the answer was unknown - only to be replaced by his thumb a moment later.

You cried out and your head fell back against the gold as you looked down at the man between your thighs only to see him staring straight into your own with an intense look. You blushed and attempted to look away only for another hand to appear from behind your head and force you to look into Arthur's eyes. His purple ones twinkled with mischief and lust while yours shined with embarrassment and overwhelming pleasure.

His middle finger glided back and forth over your folds, reveling in how wet you were before slipping it in without any resistance. You gasped and your mouth was left open in a silent moan as the pads of his finger pressed right against the spot inside you that sent you into the clouds. Without taking his finger out, he allowed it to just sit inside you and rub against the spot over and over again. His eyes never left your face as your mouth released sounds of pleasure, your eyes closed, your head rested against the back of the throne once more as the hand holding your head up released you. He admired every feature of your face as it contorted in pleasure and felt a warm sense of pride flow through him straight to the tent beneath his golden armor pants.

"Does that feel good, your highness? Does my finger feel good as it brings you to bliss? Do you feel powerful? Having the former King of Camelot, the King of Chaos kneeling before you, dedicating his every moment to you and your pleasure? You lucky girl. Anyone, man and woman, would kill to be in your place. And yet here you are. Sitting on my throne while I devour you. Over, and over, and over again." He kissed your stomach as he spoke, his lips whispering over the skin and causing your muscles to contract in anticipation. Your breaths were heavy as you looked down at the King below you, ready to serve your every need and give you everything you want and more.

Your legs shook as his finger started entering and exiting you slowly. In and out, in and out. Again and again. He continued that while his thumb drew tight figure eights on your clit.

His face lowered and he roughly and suddenly drew a harsh bite at your thigh. You gasped, a loud, surprised, aroused sound, as you felt both pain and pleasure from the act. He brought his lips down onto your clit again, licking a painfully slow lick from the small part of your entrance not occupied by his finger to the skin above your clit. 

“You’re so pretty, such a hard worker. Ruling over my kingdom with so much grace and elegance. You’re starting to make me look bad with how good you’re doing. And looking so delicious while you do.” You keeled against the seat as you heard him continue with the praise, whimpering when he said you were doing well. 

“My perfect queen. I think I’m the lucky one. Getting to have your precious, sweet, delicious cunt all for myself. Oh, and look how wet you are all because of me. You are absolutely divine.”

You clenched around his finger as he continued to shower you with compliments and praise. He smirked into your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing by the words he spoke. The way your face flushed, your walls clenched, your eyes closed, and your hands gripping into your palms gripped harder was a dead giveaway. 

“My pretty queen, you’re just too perfect. Pretty cunt tastes so sweet, I simply can’t get enough of you.” He groaned as your thighs tried to squeeze against the iron-tight grip of the stone hands and around his head. 

“Flawless.”

White, hot, searing pleasure overcame your body. The orgasm that had been approaching went completely ignored as all you could focus on was the praise coming out of your lover’s mouth as he hand-delivered more ecstasy than you could take on a silver platter. You shivered as the bliss ran through your blood and settled in your bones with a distant buzz. 

He watched you shiver as he slowed the pace of his fingers so they barely felt like they were moving. Pressing a light kiss to your clit, he let out a low chuckled against the bud when you jolted. 

“Arthur! Ah, please Arthur, ah, please. I can’t take anymore, it’s too much, ah, please.” He laughed as you begged and pleaded with all your being. Wrapping his entire mouth around your mound, he gave a large, wet, suck, and watched in amusement as you cried out that it was too much, as you pleaded for a break.

“But you deserve it, all your hard work doesn’t go unnoticed. Not by me nor by anyone around us. I’m just trying to give you a proper thank you. You do so much for me, the least I can do is please you. You’ll be good for me, won’t you? I only want to please you, darling. Just be good for me, I’ll make you feel so good. Won’t you be my good girl?” His mouth lifted off of you to look up at you, his expression like that of a kicked puppy. His look made you give in, and in your hazy state, you failed to see the twinkle of sadistic lust in his eyes, reveling in the way you shook and cried out at each stroke, each pump, each action he did. So little movement was needed at this point for you to feel unbelievably high on the tight pleasure that circled around in your gut, the feeling intensing with each touch. 

Your eyes had closed and your head fell back against the gold, your breathing uneven and heavy as you tried to focus on what he said. A sharp bit to the crevice of your thigh and hip made you yelp and look back at the king between your thighs. Purple eyes narrowed in command despite the sugary sweet, soft smile he sent you, a slight display of dominance that most wouldn’t see. “My darling,” he spoke with a tinge of demand hidden deep within the softness of his tone. “When I ask a question of you, I expect an answer. You want to be good for me right? You want to be my good girl?” A second finger slid past your folds into your entrance unexpectedly. He gave a quick hard thrust before stilling completely, waiting for your answer. 

“Yes! Yes I’ll be your good girl, I’ll be so good just… just please, oh gods, please.” You begged as he started moving his fingers inside of you, faster with each second that passed until all you could feel was euphoria, the utter state of elation as the coil in your core built up for the third time of the night. 

Arthur could tell you were getting close again by how much your walls were squeezing his fingers, making it more difficult to move. “Squeezing my fingers so tight, are you close my love?” 

“Ah, yes, yes so close,” Your moans came in higher pitches and more frequent as your release drew nearer. 

“Then cum. Cum for me your highness. Make a mess on my fingers and tongue. Spill your arousal on my throne. Every time I sit on this chair I’ll remember how I brought you to your release until you screamed my name,” His lips wrapped around your clitoris again as he locked eyes with you. “And that is exactly what I intend to do.” 

Your eyes widened before shutting tightly and your mouth fell open in a loud moan as both his tongue and fingers sped up, finding your g-spot on each thrust and making your body burst with euphoria once more. 

He rode you through your third orgasm before abruptly pulling away and your eyes snapped open at the shocking movement. Your breathing slowly started to calm down as you looked at him. He stood in front of you. Staring down at you with an almost anomalistically hungry look. He raised his eyes from where they racked over your body to stare into your eyes. Slowly bringing the hand he used to finger you to his lips, he sucked on his fingers and licked the evidence of your lust off, his eyes never leaving yours. The throbbing around your entrance had just stopped until he smirked and said, “You look ravishing, my dear.” 

A heartbeat after he spoke, his chaos power was activated again and the hands restricting your hands let go slowly, only for your bra to come flying off and your hands being locked above your head. A loud gasp escaped your lips before another one interrupted it as your thighs were quickly moved back and your feet landed on the edge of the throne, your pussy being put on full display for the King of Chaos as he continued to smirk. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, walked towards you and leaned towards you, his hands gripping the top of the throne to keep his balance. He brushed his lips against yours before a weight was placed on your head. He placed a light kiss on your lips before leaning back and taking another moment to admire you. 

“You look radiant with my crown resting on your head, your highness.” He sunk to his knees again and your cunt clenched around nothing. 

This, he noticed.

His tongue licked a long stripe across your folds before swirling around your clit for a moment. As soon as you started to think he was going to bring you to another orgasm through clitoral stimulation only, he stuck his tongue right into your hole. You let out a mix between a yelp and a moan and felt him reach parts deeper than even his fingers had. Your head was too muddled with the feelings he was giving you to realize he was using his chaos magic on his tongue. Even if you had realized, you would have just been more aroused by the fact. With the constant feeling of his tongue against the spongey spot inside of you and his nose brushing against your clit with every thrust, your release didn’t take long to arrive. The crown shaking around on your head almost fell off with how much your body was shaking. Just as your high came down, your legs were brought over Arthur’s shoulders, the cold stone hands no longer restricting them. Your thighs squeezed around his head as he buried his face into your cunt with vigorous sucks and licks, anything to bring you to another exhilarating release. 

“Come on, darling. You can give me one more, can’t you? Just one more. Give it to me. Give me just. One. More.” His voice was rough as he spoke into you, vibrations sending you to cloud nine as you reached your final orgasm of the night. 

Giving a few slow laps at your entrance, feeling you twitch and hearing you whine and whimper at each one, he lifted his head from you. Your legs fell limply from his shoulders and the hands restricting your wrists released you. 

Looking down at him, his eyes held nothing but admiration and care as he looked back at you. You gently, with a bit of struggle while still being in a post-orgasm haze, lifted your palm to wrap it around his cheek. You rubbed your thumb along his chin, whipping what had collected there onto your thumb before tapping Arthur’s bottom lip. His eyes widened in surprise and a tinge of returning lust as he opened his mouth for your thumb to slip past. He licked and sucked at the finger as you admired him. 

When you slipped your thumb from his lips, they turned up into a soft smile as he reached forward and wrapped you up in his arms. Wrapping a cape around you, he lifted you and walked through the castle up to your shared bedroom and into the bathroom. Wetting a towel, he dragged the cloth across your body, wiping off the sweat that had accumulated throughout the night before leading the cloth to your, still-sensitive, entrance and cleaning it. He shushed you as you whimpered. Once he finished, he wrapped you in your softest nightgown and laid you down in bed, pulling you close as you lay with your back pressed against his chest. He nuzzled his face into your neck. 

And they all lived happily ever fucking after.

The end mfer

𝔸 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕥𝕚𝕔 ℕ𝕚𝕘𝕙𝕥(ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎)

𝕂𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕠𝕤 𝔸𝕣𝕥𝕙𝕦𝕣 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:

𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲, 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐮𝐥𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬 𝐩𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞, 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠/𝐠𝐚𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐝

Arthur was okay, but he was not fine by any measurement, his expression heated by excitement. His tongue lolled out of his mouth, heavily panting with the rocking movement of the bed underneath him. A pair of black tentacles were wrapped around his throbbing cock and his legs were restrained by two other tentacles outstretching them.

They promptly moved up and down according to his subconscious needs. High pitched whines left Arthur. His back laid upon his bed, head up against the pillow as he threw back his head. His arms fought to keep his thighs open, allowing the blackened tentacles to slip up and down his inner thighs in a caressing manner. "F-fuck yeah..." His own powers used to fucked his own cock in preparation for taking the person right next to him. Along with the bucking of his hips against the rapid movements of the tentacles, he was moaning loudly.

This was Arthur's definition of foreplay.

The whole castle could perhaps hear him. He wasn't ashamed of what he was doing. No, he was rather excited for the actual sex he was about to endure. Despite the pleasure that traveled through his body, he managed to keep his mind straight to look over at the other side of the bed.

On your hands and your knees, Arthur's tentacles fucked into your sopping wet cunt. They stuffed you full, creating a bulge within your stomach. Your tongue stuck out, bucking your hips back up against the tentacles which stuffed you full. Whilst one tentacle worked its way into your pussy, the other one rubbed swiftly at your clitoris. He wasn't able to say anything beyond broken desperate whines for touch, but he imagined what he could say to you.

You looked ravishing.

Your moans competed with Arthur's own, meeting his eyes in the moments he could focus. The tentacles seemed to notice this, wrapping itself around your thigh. It pulled your thigh upwards, filling you at a new angle. You stuff your face in the pillow, muffling your moans whilst Arthur continued to be the more vocal of you two. The both of you are lost in your own pleasure until you hear a surprised noise come from Arthur, "A-Ahh~!" One of the tentacles had split off, entering his hole and fucking him through both ends.

Now, every single time the tentacle thrusted into Arthur, there was a whine or needy moan that came from him. Both of you seemed to enjoy your time, but soon enough they stopped. The tentacles withdrew from you, your sopping wet juices dripping off of it. Arthur's cock was hard and ready for release, but the tentacles disappeared immediately before he shouted he was going to come.

For a few moments, you two were left empty. It was an unwelcome feeling especially for you. You enjoyed being stuffed full of Arthur's cock, but this experience was just beyond hot. You stared over at Arthur. His chest heaved and his hips slightly bucked into the air hoping for some sort of stimulation, "Arthur..." You called out his name.

Arthur didn't waste any time.

He took that as his cue, crawling over towards you on all fours. The King didn't waste any time. Hummed into your neck and you felt his hot breath make your hairs stand up on end. You wrapped your arms around Arthur, bringing your legs to wrap around his waist. The two of you molded your bodies together, feeling along each other's curves and muscles. You could feel Arthur's hard cock against your stomach area. He gently ground into you for stimulation, licking and nibbling at a place on your collarbone.

There were no words exchanged between the two of you as he ravished your neck. His tongue dragged along the base, all the way up to your jawline where he began to softly nibble with his teeth. His hands wandered around your body, finally settling and squeezing at your ass. Your hands ran all the way down his back, doing the same to him. Once you got to his ass, you gave it a quick hard smack. He bucked his hips forward, pressing his forehead into the pillow below. "Mmph!"

"What was that for?" His raspy voice suddenly made an appearance. The two of you stopped, making eye contact with one another. His purple gaze was filled with lust, wanting to take you right here and now.

"That was for fucking me with your little Chaos powers...I think you deserve a little spank, don't ya think?" You subtly winked, chuckling at the blush that spread across his cheeks. It quickly dissipated, his body hovering over you with a dark look on his face. His hand roughly grabbed your chin, squishing your cheeks together, and forcing you to look up at him. "I've been patient, love. I've waited for days so that I may finally have you. Your fucking attitude is a show of disrespect for your King." He pressed your head forcefully back into the pillow. Two of Arthur's fingers ghosted along your plump lips, opening your mouth ever so slightly. You're in a trance with the way that Arthur hovered above you.

His chiseled body bared many scars, a testament of what he had become and the hardships he endured. He'd been so patient for so much in his life. He was a patient man...he really was.

Except when you pissed him off.

"You don't think that it's good...Do you? Hmm? Because your attitude just makes me want to fuck you harder with my cock." His fingers pressed into your mouth, forcing you to suck on them as if they were his cock. He pressed them down into your throat, causing you to gag. Your eyes pricked with tears at the feelings of his fingers in your throat. All he did was cruelly laugh at you, "My love, you look incredibly ravishing with my fingers in your mouth. It reminds me of the times you choke on my cock in the throne room." He removed his fingers from your mouth, sticking his tongue out to lick up the saliva that was once in yours.

"Now then, I've waited patiently all day for you...I want to fuck my cum into you so much that it's dripping out of your swollen cunt." You gazed up at him in amazement, taking your arms out towards him. Soon enough, you pulled him into a feverish kiss. He took this as a challenge, adjusting his hips to line up with yours. He was so extremely hard it was painful. The lack of orgasm he had caused him to become frustrated, impatiently wanting to fuck you. Your lips melded together, muffled moans and exhales coming from the both of you.

You moaned into the kiss, feeling the shaft of his cock rub along your folds and then press into your swollen clit. He bucked his hips up against you a few times before pushing into your wet cunt with ease. Filling you to the brim, he finally bottomed out with a satisfied groan leaving him. Both of you exhaled in pleasure, bracing yourself for Arthur's movements. He waited a few moments, gazing into your eyes for the signal to move.

Your hair was sprawled out along the pillow, a pink dusting on your cheeks.

One.

Two.

Three slow jerky thrusts before settling balls deep in you once again. You quietly moaned along with him, but a loud squeal left you upon the frantic pace that he set. "Ahn...Mmph!" Arthur jerkily thrusted his hips back into you, milking all the noises out of your throat. He panted out with each movement he gave, trying to control his movements so he'd be able to last, "So good....Fuck!" You heard Arthur say under his breath. So you'd be stimulated enough, he began to rub circles around your bundle of nerves along with his thrusts.

"F-Fuck! Arthur!" An electric feeling bolted right through your body. One of your hands clawed down his back causing Arthur's hips to stutter.

"Ah! You feel so tight...S-So good love...Y-You always know how to please me...J-Just...fuck!" Arthur's hot breath against your chest made your skin have goosebumps all over it. Dirty names spilled from his lips, encouraging you to moan along with him. There was no time for him to focus on anything else, trying to chase his own release. You felt a sudden knot begin to show up in your stomach. Your back arched as Arthur's finger pressed up into your clit, rubbing harshly up and down it. His fingers moved faster than his thrusts, pounding into you as hard as he could.

Both of your bodies collectively jerked along with the bed. It's creaking sounds almost overtaking Arthur's whimpers of pleasure. The two of you suddenly stopped, adjusting so your ass was in the air and your face was stuffed into the pillow. Arthur wasted no time, grabbing onto your hair as he continued his thrusts. You let out a few lustful cries into the pillow, moving your hips back into Arthur, "S-Shit Arthur I'm gonna-!"

"Y-Yeah..I....I kn-mmph!" He barely got any words out, only devolving into lustful whimpers and whines. Occasionally a word of gibberish would slip from his lips, feeling your cunt tighten on his dick. You could feel him twitch inside of you. So, to hurry it all up, you began to move your hips back into him. His thrusts faltered into shallow jerky movements.

All of a sudden, your orgasm came crashing down upon you. Your body tensed up and convulsed, sweet release washing over you. Arthur's name came from your lips as your whole body relaxed afterwards. After a pause Arthur stutters in your orgasm, telling you he's close along with you. Your toes curl, feeling your slickened entrance be thrusted into a few more times before he presses into you. Arthur's tongue lolled out of his mouth, a strangled cry leaving his throat. His body tensed and convulsed as he came. His release coated your insides, riding out his orgasm rather shakily.

His body collapsed on top of yours, panting in sync with your rising and falling chest. "Mmph...(Name)...That was so god damn good. Damn...I love you so much..."

"I love you too Arthur..." You mumbled out slowly, feeling the stressed King's body finally relaxing. For the first moment in a long time, there was peace in his being. "Arthur aren't you going to pull out?"

"You can warm my cock for a bit. I don't want my cum slipping out of you-"

𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐏𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧(𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬)

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯'𝘵 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘥𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘢𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘮𝘪𝘵 𝘪𝘵.

ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 𝔹𝔼𝕃𝕆𝕎 𝕋ℍ𝔼 ℂ𝕌𝕋

𝗖𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁𝘀: 𝗕𝗿𝗲𝗲𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗸(𝗦𝗽𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗳𝗶𝗰𝗮𝗹𝗹𝘆), 𝘗𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴, 𝘉𝘶𝘭𝘨𝘦 𝘒𝘪𝘯𝘬(𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘦𝘥), 𝘉𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘨𝘦, 𝘙𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘚𝘦𝘹 (𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥), 𝘚𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘚𝘦𝘹, 𝘊𝘰𝘤𝘬𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘔𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘊𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴 𝘗𝘰𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘚𝘦𝘹𝘶𝘢𝘭 𝘜𝘴𝘦, 𝘚𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘈𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘶𝘳(𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵)

𝕀𝕗 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕗𝕚𝕟𝕕 𝕒𝕟𝕪 𝕠𝕗 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤 𝕥𝕣𝕚𝕘𝕘𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘, 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕖 𝕕𝕠 𝕟𝕠𝕥 𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕥𝕙𝕚𝕤 𝕡𝕠𝕤𝕥!

》Chaos Daddy, yes Chaos Daddy, is King of Camelot which means he can have whatever he wants whenever he wants. He chooses to spend his time using sex as a stress reliever. And Arthur has a lot of pent up stress so...buckle up people it's time to hit the road.

》Let's get this out of the way first.

》No matter what you do, Arthur is always going to ask consent. Whether it is to cum inside of you or if its to kiss you. He's always asking and it's sexy as fuck. He's the King of Camelot, King of Chaos, and the King of Consent. Chaos Daddy will not fuck you without a definite yes. No matter how possessive he is, how jealous he is, how fucking desperate he is, he's going to ask.

》King of fucking Consent-

》Arthur is constantly stressed, little things sending him off the rails due to his new powers. With Chaos now as his new power, he has heightened senses. The tiniest things that his lover does can set him off. It could be the way they walk or the tiniest tease of a lick to their upper lip. He will whisk them away and have them up against a stone cold wall in no time.

》If he has his arm regenerated, it most likely resembles something of his old arm. It's just maybe black and clawed like a demon's regenerated limb. I'd say sort of like Derieri's.

》When he's finally gotten his lover in a private corner, Arthur is sure to use his body language and hands to show them what he wants. Hands wandering along their body, groping and squeezing the squishy parts of their flesh.

》A sign that he wants sex could be him gripping his partner's thighs. Honestly, Arthur is a thigh man. Drilling into his partner from above, he grips both hands into their thighs and splits them apart to the point where their muscles are getting that delicious stretching feeling.

》There's always a hand on his partner's thigh because Arthur does not quit. He will have his hand on their thigh when eating them out, using his tongue to lick along their entrance and eat them out with such skill.

》Chaos daddy likes to fuck his lover from behind in a mirror so he can see their expressions. Eye contact is a big thing for Arthur because he loves to see the expressions that his partner makes. Their faces and noises get him off, causing him to just fuck them harder than before.

》Arthur has a major breeding kink due to him being a king in all. He has to eventually have an heir and the idea of his lover being swelled with his seed makes him go crazy.

》He will often go for 3 rounds of sex when he's up for it. These aren't just sexual rounds, its a 'session' for him. He wants to ensure that his lover knows that they are his. He will be fucking them, cum inside of them, keep himself inside for a few moments, and then go for another round with his release still inside from the previous sessions.

》 The dirty talk is real-

》"You're so lucky to be filled up with your King's seed...Be a grateful bitch and take it~!"

》"You're my loyal slut..."

》"Tell me you want my seed. Tell me you want me to cum inside of you...~ Beg me for it~..."

》"If you want to come on my dick then beg for it..~" 》"Want me to come inside you? That's so sexy baby."

》Makes a BIG DEAL about you having his 'royal seed' inside of you. Even if he asks to come inside of you, he still makes you beg for it. He thinks that you're his slut and that you need to be grateful that such a powerful king is taking the time to fuck you.

》Of course, this is all just talk because he is actually the sweetest little aftercare sunshine ball even if he's been taken over by Chaos.

》Speaking of Chaos, he uses Chaos to get himself off. Once his lover found him masturbating using Chaos. His hand was bracing himself on the bed post whilst using makeshift stone hands to force his thighs apart whilst another rubbed up and down his shaft. He looked at his lover, one eye open, and moaned their name to come help him relieve his stress.

》 "C-Come over here and h-help your King~!"

》Let's just say that his lover ended up being shoved down onto his dick, riding him whilst the hand played with his balls. Chaotic hands roamed all over both their bodies, and the only sounds the poor people in the castle could hear were Arthur and his lover loudly moaning each other's names despite Arthur using Chaos to fuck them both.

》He has their wrists tied above their head, summoning Chaos tentacles to feel along their body whilst he thrusts his hips forward in a deep and rough motion. He can feel everything that they do, able to imagine its his own hands feeling along his partner's body. Whenever Arthur feels his partner tighten on him, he throws his head back and gives out a loud moan or a broken whine.

》Very expressive when it comes to being in bed. He knows what he wants- He will tell you what he wants in the moment and then ask you if you're okay with it.

》Luckily, his lover is usually a very open person~ 》He makes sure he slowly slides into them, hips touching each other, and fills them up all the way before slowly rolling his hips into them. The best way Arthur does this is in doggy position.

》They will have their body pressed into the bed, ass up, whilst Arthur's back and whole body is pressed up against them. He gives a few short shallow thrusts before pulling out and then fucking right back into them.

》If his partner doesn't hold back, Arthur doesn't hold back. And he will comply when you want more- fucking harder, deepening his cock inside of them, causing them to be louder and louder than usual.

》There's a lot of 'yeahs' and praising from his side, constantly telling them how tight they are and how good that they feel. When he cums inside of them, its to the point where there's a bulge in their stomach.

》Arthur will purposefully go multiple rounds to see this bulge, even if its the smallest thing. Its indication that his dick is big enough to keep all of that seed inside of his lover. And sometimes he will sit back whilst using Chaos to fuck his partner after, and jack off to the sight.

》Poor poor poor (Name)....

》Any kinks his lover have will be incorporated into his sex routine-

》He enjoys cumming right at the same time as his partner because the feeling of them clench around him must cause his whole body to feel like its being milked.

》Throne sex is a must for Arthur as well. Either getting off by choking on his dick in the throne room, or by riding him on the throne whilst no one else is there. Its a power move for Arthur, finding himself wanting someone to walk in. Even if its a poor servant, he's going to feel amazing.

》"Yeah, you like that? Bouncing on my royal cock? Hm? Say it~" 》He will start training his partner to please him the right way. It starts by him slowly sticking his fingers in his lover's mouth to train their gag reflex. Arthur does not care what kind of gag reflex his partner has, he is going to be fucking his hips into his lover's mouth if he feels like he wants to release. He chases after the feeling, finally accomplishing what he wants at the end.

》He will first fuck your throat with his fingers before you are allowed to suck his royal dick. It's a privilege...Earn it.

》ANYWAY YEAH DADDY CHAOS DOES DO A LOT OF GOOD <3

》I HAVE A LOT MORE TO SAY BUT THATS IT

𝕌𝕡 ℕ𝕖𝕩𝕥: ℤ𝕖𝕝𝕕𝕣𝕚𝕤 ℕ𝕊𝔽𝕎 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤

Kinda want to ride Arthur on his throne rn

brooooooooo.

this is a fucking need and not a want. wdym??

hello, Arthur bouncing you on his lap without a care in the world. He tried to protect your modesty by wrapping his cloak around you, but each sharp thrust into you had the silk fabric slipping from your shoulders, threatening to expose your naked and flushed skin. It makes a possessive growl leave his mouth and then he's pulling you closer, trapping you on his cock with heavy hands clamped on your thighs.

𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠 (𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖)

𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗵𝘂𝗿 𝗣𝗲𝗻𝗱𝗿𝗮𝗴𝗼𝗻 𝘅 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿(𝗡𝗦𝗙𝗪 𝟭𝟴+)

~~𝗔𝗙𝗔𝗕 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿(𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆/𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗽𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘀)~~

𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗵𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝘀 𝘁𝗶𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗼 𝗼𝗻 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗻. 𝗦𝗼, 𝗵𝗲 𝗱𝗲𝗰𝗶𝗱𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗶𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝗺𝘀𝗲𝗹𝗳 𝗱𝘂𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮 𝗽𝘂𝗯𝗹𝗶𝗰 𝗺𝗲𝗲𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴.

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗖𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 𝟭𝟱𝟯𝟭

This situation wasn’t ideal for (Name). They stared over towards their fiery haired significant other, a deep blush spread across their own face. His purple gaze glinted with emotions of amusement and lust, permeating into a mess that would result in him fucking himself desperately into his partner later that night. But he didn’t have time for that. At least not now. 

“The state of Camelot’s affairs are-…" 

A lord of the noble folk had dragged on and on throughout his speech about how ‘Camelot is not safe from Liones’ for about 50 minutes now. His same words leaving Arthur coming to the same conclusion each time he made his point again and again and again. Whenever the King of Chaos sat round his Knights and Lords, he found himself able to slip into a state of mind that let him reflect on his mood. He’d made the solid conclusion that he was feeling quite horny, watching as the body of his partner stood up to passionately counter the point of the Lord speaking. 

The way their hips swayed, the plumpness of their lips, the arch of their nose, the glint of power in their eyes. Arthur’s lips were moistened by the swipe of his tongue along his upper lip. The King could have whoever he wanted, whenever he wanted, but his partner (Name) had been alluding him for the whole day. 

That’s when they both made eye contact, alighting (Name) to bow slightly to the Lord before returning to their seat right by Arthur. His lonesome hand traveled to their shoulder, rubbing it politely. "Said well, my love…!” he smoothly chirped out. Their eyes made contact, (Name)’s wide ones contradicting his own stare. “You know…” He allowed his hand to fall to the chair, distracting the Knights to his face. The moment he began speaking, (Name) lulled themselves into a trance. They let their head fall to the side, allowing Arthur’s hand to rub the skin of their forearm… 

No. 

Thigh. 

No.

They lurched their head forward, catching the attention of the room as Arthur’s fingers danced along their abdomen. “What’s wrong my love?” He whispered towards them, the whole room concerned at (Name)’s sudden mood change. An electric feeling tickled throughout their body, crossing their legs to stop Arthur from doing just what they suspected the King to be up to. Arthur leaned towards (Name), imploring once more. “I-I’m fine…” They stuttered, muttering out in an annoyed manner,

 "Just sleepy. Had a long day. Continue please with your speaking…“ 

"Very well then…That’s all I have to say. Continue Lord Agravaine.” 

The lord froze, coming to face his King who’s face twisted into that of a darkened beast, "But do not take up much of my time. You’ve been rambling for the last hour. Get to the point so we may leave and not continue to hear your nonsense. If you do, I will have you split open in two and left out on a pike to rot whilst the creatures of Camelot *feast on your flesh. You wouldn’t like that now would you….?" 

"N-No your Majesty!” As Arthur had said that, his eyes flickered. It was a great distraction to lead into his plan. (Name)’s thighs were pried apart by cold stone hands which popped out of the chair’s legs. They held firmly onto their thighs, despite (Name)’s subtle attempts to not get the attention of the Holy Knights and nobility around them. 

During Arthur’s threat, a gaze flickered towards (Name). “I didn’t think so, but you have no choice but to obey me. So, next time that you don’t comply, I will just have to follow through.” The twirl of his fingers caused the stone hands to tighten slightly. The drop of Arthur’s fingers didn’t indicate them to loosen. Instead, they stayed the same. And the speech continued, prompting Arthur to continue to caress the sides of (Name)’s exposed thighs. His fingers flittered along their skin, receiving a pleasant inhale of pleasure from his partner.

Being restrained was a normal part of their intimacies with Arthur, usually bound by different horrifying objects. A memory flittered into their mind of a similar situation in which Arthur had their hands tied behind their back with a twisted rope of eyes and muscled flesh. Their face stuffed into the pillow, exposing their ass to the air, and feeling Arthur’s dick drive into them at a rough pace. There was nothing but the sounds of their own muffled moans, the slapping of hips against ass, Arthur’s deep pants and occasional broken half moans of pleasure. He’d always have his tongue barely exiting his mouth before he reached his finishing point. 

But…. 

Even if he was a rough lover, he always sought for consent. His hand slipped near (Name)’s plump inner thigh, feeling along the smooth surface. (Name)’s breath hitched, slightly jolting from the touch of his warm hand up against their cold thigh. He stopped, hands caressing the side of their thigh for a sign of consent. Arthur leaned the other way, eyes meeting (Name)’s with eyebrows quirking. When given a nod, Arthur’s fingers dipped past the fabric of (Name)’s underwear. Arthur’s fingers would occasionally stray deeper within (Name)’s inner thighs, until his fingertips just barely stroked against their folds, withdrawing again to caress her thighs. (Name), trying to regulate their breathing, went back to trying to concentrate on the words of this man speaking. He stuttered, afraid of Arthur’s harsh gaze, whilst not noticing Arthur’s fingers rubbing expertly against his partner’s entrance.

 His palm pressed up against (Name)’s clothed entrance, beginning to grind his hand into their folds. Right as Arthur’s attention was caught by the minister, their free hand joined Arthur to set a motion with his grinding palm. Nevertheless, he was taken aback by his partner’s sudden enthusiasm to get off. Rubbing along faster with his motions, he switched his flat palm to grind his knuckles.

It occasionally ground against their clit, causing (Name) to jolt their fingers forward. A choking half moan came out of (Name), quickly correcting themselves by apologizing for their allergies. The Knights brushed it off, amusing Arthur further to push his fingers past (Name)’s fabric and feel along their sticky lubricated entrance. Continuing for several moments, eventually Arthur’s fingers gently parting their folds for him. His fingers dipped down and went into (Name)’s entrance. Their eyes closed shut, trying to focus on the words that were now fading. All they could continue to do is focus on the way Arthur’s middle finger slowly worked into their entrance. He pressed his fingers up into them until his knuckle was pressed up against their entrance. They gripped the sides of their seats, the whites of their knuckles showing. A few deep inhales and exhales came from (Name), accepting the fullness of Arthur’s thick finger. 

“This is…boring…- What did I tell you, Lord (Insert Here)? You’re not amusing me anymore with your rambling…" 

Letting out a huff of frustration, Arthur curled his fingers inside of (Name). Their hand wrapped around Arthur’s wrist as he abruptly added another finger, working into their folds even more. The tight grip around their wrist did not even discourage Arthur from his quest to get his partner off. His thumb pressed and toyed with their clit; the rest of his fingers stroked smooth, rotating motions into their folds as his middle finger relentlessly curled and pumped into them. Arthur was obviously getting off on the way (Name) gripped onto his wrist and their other hand on their stone armrest. Their thighs fought to close, involuntarily wanting to let their knees buckle. Moments and moments passed before they felt an arousal build up rather quickly. Before they were able to address it, Arthur’s fingers fastened whilst he was speaking to this man across the room.

"I should really just…" 

Arthur felt himself begin to get angry, feeling his partner tighten against his fingers. Suddenly, before they could release, Arthur withdrew his fingers from their entrance and wiped their arousal off of his fingers. 

"Just…go. This meeting is dismissed. Now…” The empty feeling left (Name) to silently whine. An unwelcoming feeling filled them, the stone hands releasing their thighs. The knights filed out of the room, leaving Arthur with their partner in the room. It took a few moments, but then Arthur smiled. 

“What?…Is my love needing me?” Arthur mused over towards (Name), their thighs trembling from the experience. They whined, trying to adjust themselves. Having not noticed their face earlier, Arthur was taken aback by how delicious they appeared. Their face had a deep blush around the cheek area. “We can continue this later…” He slapped his hand down on his thigh, allowing himself to stand up. 

“Meet me in my room in 15 minutes. I expect you naked and needy for my cock by the time I come back.” “Arthur I-” They were cut off by Arthur grabbing onto their chin. His thumb barely went past their plump lips, almost asking them to suck or bite on it. 

“Shh my darling….Your king commands it.” Want a part 2???????

𝐀𝐩𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐚𝐜(𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐨𝐬!𝐀𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐮𝐫 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐝𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐲𝐩𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚, 𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐝𝐨𝐠𝐠𝐲, 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤, 𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠

Self Indulgent fic for @iz-ana

Tag List: @18moosie @little-miss-chaoss

Why was it that you were so irritatingly gorgeous? It frustrated Arthur, hungrily staring at you from his throne whilst you talked with such fervor. It drove him crazy, the way your lips moved and the passion within your voice. Your passion ignited so much within his own body. It made him angry. Why did he desire you so much in this moment when he was supposed to find a solution to a life or death problem? His knee bounced up and down rather impatiently, waiting for this meeting to be over. He attempted to use his hand to cover his eyes, but he could see you through his fingers. Earlier in the day, he'd been messing with his own magic that he had been blessed with for years now.

Something went awry, an unending desire to fuck a feeling out of him. His cheeks had immediately heated up, but no matter how many times he tried to relieve himself, he was unable to stop thinking. It had been about the 3rd time today that his mind had slipped into erotic thoughts of you, and erotic thoughts they were.

He imagined his fingers sliding down your curves, gripping onto your thighs as he delved his head down into your sopping wet pussy that was all for him. He would tongue fuck you so well, bend you in unheard of positions, fuck you against his cock until you were only allowed to say his name. The King of Chaos wanted to cum inside of you, fill you with his seed as you begged for more. Gods, the sight of you pinned underneath him just excited him so.

Arthur's mind was wandering elsewhere, the tent in his pants underneath the table growing greater. This was so much so that he abruptly dismissed himself from the table in hopes to relieve himself once more. He slammed the door behind him, much to your own concern. Had your speech made Arthur mad? Did you say something wrong? Your heart beat in anticipation.

Entering his room, he closed it shut with as much force as he had. The tent in his pants had began to hurt, desperately wanting to feel himself inside of you. Arthur relieved himself of his clothing, turning back down to his aching cock as his hand captured it after deciding to use his own split as lube. He hissed at the feeling of contact, his eyes tearing up slightly as he began to slowly pump his cock up and down. A string of soft moans came out of him, imagining your mouth taking him as deep as you could. His hips stuttered, rolling in motion hesitantly with his hand's pumping.

Meanwhile, you had dismissed the meeting with the other Knights. How could Arthur just leave? You were Arthur's and he was yours. You always communicated, but nothing had concerned you more with his behavior this past day. You knocked on his door, "Arthur...?" In response, you heard a hiccuping moan.

To you, it sounded like he was in pain. Quickly opening the door he forgot to lock. The sight ignited a feeling within your core, a slight pounding of arousal coming from it. Your mouth ran dry at the sight of Arthur, eyes rolled back into his head as he desperately tried to relieve himself. His hand moved fast, hips bucking in pace. You knew by his moans, he was close. Arthur didn't seem to notice you until you appeared right into his sight.

A wanton whine came from him, your hand grabbing onto his wrist and removing it from his aching cock. His knees buckled together, toes curling as his arousal came right back. "(N-Name)?" Your fingers left his own, quickly beginning to unbutton your shirt. Arthur's magic automatically summoned another arm from the one that had been eaten off by Cath. He wished to fondle with your body, standing upwards.

You felt your back hit the bed, Arthur pulling your hair as his teeth grazed right along your hot skin. You hurriedly pulled off your underwear after he shimmied off your pants, but a hand caught your panties in-between his fingers. He pulled them right down to your ankles, skilled fingers working to rub his ring and middle finger up against your folds. He was desperate to get inside of you, your hair being pulled to the side harshly to expose half of your neck. You yelped in mild pain, moaning his name as his hot tongue glided along the expanse of your neck. His thumb pressed into your clitoris, beginning to furiously rub back and forth whilst his fingers began to become coated in his arousal. "Arthur...!" You moaned out, feeling his tongue lead right up to about the base of your ear. His other hand was fondling your breast, squeezing it and pinching your nipple in-between his thumb and index finger. "You are a fucking slut, you know that? Keeping me worked up all day... Daddy's going to stuff his cock right up into you...make you scream. I wanna be inside you. So hurry up and get wet you whore. Im impatient." He groaned out, feeling you grind yourself against his erection. Arthur's purple eyes gleamed down towards you, panting softly in rhythm with your own rising and falling chest.

"I want Daddy's cock-" You croaked out, bucking your hips up against his palm to add more stimulation. Scooting himself away, Arthur took his hand away from your sopping wet cunt giving a whine of disatisfaction from you. Rubbing both of your thighs, Arthur grinned at you. "Don't you worry, daddy's gonna please you so good. You're going to be so ready for when I stuff you full of my cum...God, I want to cum just because of that thought."

You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him palm his aching cock, "You see how hard you've made me? I'm gonna stretch you full my love." But he didn't give you the satisfaction of stuffing you full with his tongue, no. What he did was dip his face down to your entrance. "Looks delicious~" He grinned, but ran a finger right along the folds of your entrance.

"But not wet enough for my liking..." That's when he spit right into your cunt, using it as lube to slide his tongue right into your pussy. Your back arched, electric sparks running up your spine as you whined. You attempted to close your thighs, but Arthur squeezed both his hands on your thighs to force them apart. His tongue began to fuck right up into you, licking along your walls and sucking in all of the juices dripping out of your cunt. His nose bumped up against your clit, causing your back to arch. There was a stretching feeling, almost uncomfortable, coming from your thighs. Although this was the case, Arthur's tongue voided any worries from your mind.

He sucked and lapped with fervor, pressing his head inwards to better get an angle where he could feel you writhe and shiver under his grip. Fucking you with his tongue was just the beginning. That wasn't the only thing hot and wet that was going to be inside of you. He worked his tongue right through, watching signs of you getting to your high. Gripping on his hair, pulling forward on it harshly for him to go faster. Your toes curled, eyes shutting as you felt yourself coming on your high. "I-I'm gonna cum Arthur! Keep on going I'm gonna cum! I'm-...!!?!" You whined out, feeling him remove complete contact from you once more.

"Why?!" You tilted your head, Arthur using his knuckle to wipe off the mix of drool and juices from your cunt dripping off his lip. "Because, you don't get to cum. I haven't been able to come all day." He tapped your thigh with two fingers, indicating for you to get onto your hands and knees. His fingers quickly slid into you, giving a few experimental pumps and scissoring you wide just to test it out.

"Good enough-" He muttered to himself, lining up with your entrance, "Gods, I've been waiting for this all day..." Arthur closed his eyes, bringing his head forward as he rubbed his cock along your folds.

You were his to have all to himself. He didn't want anyone else seeing you like this, being able to fuck you like this. The view of your cunt squeezing around nothing drove him crazy. He aligned your hips with his own, rolling them forward and slowly letting himself fill you up. When he bottomed out, an exhale of relief filled you two. A pained whine came from him, trying to stop himself from coming early inside of you, "H-hn...you're so tight~" You reassuringly looked back at Arthur, who looked like he was straight about to lose himself. His eyes flickered, the dark black threatening to consume his irises.

Arthur's hips slowly began to thrust into you, soft moans coming from him with each moment. His lip curled upwards into a sneer, grabbing the back of your hair as he fucked you with more fervor. Your back stretched, head being forced back into the pillow. His hips smacked into your own, almost hearing a hiccuping moan coming from him at how good you stretched around him. Your moans were in tandem with his own, your bodies rocking back and forth. He rolled against your backside with long high pitched moans exiting out of him, rivaling yours in volume.

"Shit f-fuck!" He cussed out, "So good, so good..." He'd pull your hair rather harshly with each good thrust that hit against your g spot. His hips ground up against your clit, providing light friction that accompanied the dull hurting of your head. "Daddy.." You managed to moan out, your hands gripping the edges of the bedsheets.

"What do you want, baby?" He brought up his hand that was gripping your hip, giving a light spank over your asscheeks. That pain caused your eyes to begin to water, sniffing inwards. You couldn't choke it out so Arthur struck your asscheeks once more, a tear slipping down your cheek. He leaned over, causing you to yelp as your thighs were suddenly held up in the air by tentacles that seemingly came from nowhere. Whilst he drilled into you, Arthur used his tongue to lick up your salty tears from your cheek. He slammed into you two more times, until you tightened around him and gushed your juices right all over his cock. A broken cry left you, his name coming right from your mouth as electric shivers of pleasure ran up your spine.

He pulled out, still rock hard. He didn't come yet, he was disatisfied. Instead, he pushed you over by your shoulders to your back. Pushing your thighs right over near your shoulders, he bent you at an odd angle. You moaned feeling him fill you up again, both his hands going to squeeze your jugular. The sounds of hips slapping against each other filled the room, his moans coming out as you tried to breathe out. All you managed to get out were gasps, tears running down your face from lack of air and the full force of feeling his cock ram in and out of you. It was glistening with your juices, Arthur's moans sounding out.

Disgusting phrases flittered out of him, "God damn it baby, you feel so good, so tight. I'm gonna fill you with my seed. F-Fuck...You're gonna give me an heir! Shit! Fuck! Fuck! I'm gonna come! It's coming! Shit!"

He thrusted 3 more times until his muscles twitched, collapsing against you as a broken cry left his lips. His hot cum spilled inside of your insides in fat globs, filling you up to the point where it was spilling out of you due to how tight a fight his cock was around you. He kept himself right inside of you, trying to keep as much of his seed sloshing around in you. The warm feeling ignited inside of you, wrapping you arms around the slumped Arthur who slowly removed his flaccid cock with a whine and observed the sticky substance leave your cunt in globs.

"Fuck yeah, you're so hot." He collapsed next to you, finally feeling relief from earlier flood his body. Arthur trailed kisses along your neck, your chest heaving up and down from all of the feelings surrounding your body. "Mmm, Arthur I love you..." You wrapped your arms around the big King, him cuddling up against your chest.

"I love you too." He turned over, hiking his leg up over your own. He grinned and mumbled out, "You're so beautiful...Most beautiful thing ever." The cavity between your chest was kissed chastely by him before pressing a chaste kiss upon your lips.

"We'll clean when we wake up. I want it in you as long as possible~" He mumbled out into your neck, "Next time lets try cockwarming though-"

"A-Arthur?!"

"Im kidding!"

jjk men having wet dreams about you and waking up needy and pants soaked…….. thank you for listening to my ted talk 🌚🌚

໒꒰ྀ ྀིᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈)ꕤ*.ﾟ yes and yes. omfggg the big men of jjk being so whiney and needy >> such a good combooo

★ ┆ NOCTURNAL EMISSIONS .ᐟ ── JJK VARIOUS ‧

FT ‧ gojo, getō, nanami, toji, sukuna, choso

⟣ WARNINGS ‧ MDNI | f! reader | pwp, dub con, somnophilia, dry humping, lots of messes ( winkwonk ) from vv needy men, dirty taaalk, warnings will be noted and will vary on each character. ᡣ 𐭩 | WC ‧ 1.4k + |

͙͘͡★ SATORU GOJO!

somno, dry humping, fingering, mind fuck ( ?? ) !

Gojo’s eyes are snapped wide. Simply, laying silent and annoyed – tight-lipped and motionless, yet his wet cock is the only thing moving… agonizingly too… Feeling himself twinge between stiff legs ‘till it itched; each panging throb forced his meaty log to rub right up against the mess oozing through thin fabric.

“Fuck…” Gojo was more than annoyed watching how you peacefully drift off beside him, unbothered and probably coveting in the sweetest of dreams… A silent ponder hoping some were of him, just how his every thought was of you. Well, Clearly. The sappy mess globbed up in his pants was an apparent sign even his dreams clutter of just you, to which, Gojo could no longer stay silent about…

“Dreamin' baby?… Bet you are…” Shimmying himself close, the gentle press he rolls with smeared the gluey muck across your bare skin, “Any about me?… I’d hope,” Voice so smooth you swear you could hear your boyfriend echoing in your cute little head, “Just had one of you… i was fucking that pretty pussy…” Like sand falling, he whispers gently at the shell of your ear, taking a nip before, “Mmh… just like this…” Gojo’s hand slips right between the sweet heat of your legs.

“Ah… mmpf–” You twitch. Your brows too, knitting together into a deep parabola. Was this a dream still? A sudden naughty turn from baking with friends sure was a jump! — Ah! But that pinch twisting at your pearled hood felt all too real…

Gojo worked quick. Cooing across naked flesh soothed you back – even soothing the tight bundle of nerves throbbing at his persistence worked well too, “You were wet just like this baby…” The pads of his fingers mush between your slit, gently scrissoring folds open to catch at those lewd webs, “Better be dreaming of me fucking you… so fuckin’ wet…” Gojo hooks a digit in.

“… To… Toru…?” Bedhead sluggish with sleepy eyes drooped, all you could feel was Gojo pressing flush against your ass harder than usual — was there a wet spot too? Each roll he shoved against you worsened the damp spot; all seeping with warm cum and more pre to bleed through your clothes… And was there a damn finger popped in your pussy?!

“Hehe…” That mischievous and annoying giggle hucked right into your neck, “Look who's having a wet dream now, naughty girl…” Needy bastard.

͙͘͡★ SUGURU GETŌ!

somno, oral sex ( f –> m ), cum shot !

The rather poignant moans slipping out from between Getō's lips woke you up. And the obvious tent building in your boyfriend's briefs was standing proudly from strong hips; an obelisk of flesh that jutted out as far as a forearm was a clear indication he was hungry even in deep thoughts...

Bored and damper with a small smile, you listen to how this eruption was caused by you, "Y/n... baby... More..." Tenderly cuddling up to his side to watch his ache – to watch the little twinges in his features spark... Suguru was so cute when he'd have naughty fantasies... Watching how his length jerked around in confines; forcing tight cloth wrapping his capped tip to suffocate. To further damp in wet seed, 'till the dark spot bubbled out with more ropes of cum.

"Fuck–mmh–Please... Need you... fuck..."

Your measly hand dipping between bodies seemed to have drawn out those very feeble dreams he was crying out for to beyond... Especially the second you popped his cock out; he was drenched – sweat and cum were glistening along his length.

Suguru twisted around, unconsciously sucking in his lower lip at the tease, "Yes... mmh..." Clammy skin throbbed under your touch... The wrist-thick girth you twist at oozed, just begging for attention.

Heeding to his needs, you squeeze yourself between his splayed legs; settling to wrap pretty lips around Suguru's crown. And like a suction, you swallow him up; impaling yourself with his slab of cock meat 'till it punched at the fluttering length of your barriers. Blocking the entirety of your windpipe with ease, but too determined to fill his dreams with more fantasies, you gurgle him whole…

Perhaps the sloppy sounds coming from your mouth did little to dissuade him awake, but the tight lip you ring around his midsection forced his face to scrunch in, "Ohmyfuck... baby, yes..." He was close — again!

Salty in white thickness, the slobber you bubble out forced another geyser of hot cum to shoot.

Balls tightening and clenching up to empty across your tongue, Getō gasps, "Baby?! Fuck!" Hips jerking upwards, either surprised to see his pretty girl working his hard cock, or the overstimulation catching him by his throat.

Either or, he was damn grateful to have such an attentive girlfriend, "Holy shit... Babe--" Getō stutters, but the faint smile hanging by a thread was all he could muster up peering down at your muck-covered, pretty face...

͙͘͡★ KENTO NANAMI!

marriage, mentions of pregnancy, cock warming !

Sensitive skin chafing along his briefs, the sap pearling out was sticky. Damnnit. Again?

It's happened three times this week on your honeymoon already, and it's becoming agonizing… He always tried to ignore the way he'd moan and twist himself awake, but it was extra hard dismissing the wet patch soiling his third pair of briefs… It made him feel like a hormonal teen – embarrassing for a grown, now wedded man, but he couldn't help it! You're so beautiful and everything he yearns for – you're just cooped up in his every damn thought!

“Honey…” Nanami sighs.

The soft pads gliding across the curvature of your back form a parabola to arch in chills. You wind your hips, “Mhm?… Oh…” You recognize that sticky patch soiled low in his pants. Memorizing the way how he'd shimmy so close ‘till he could stuff his face into the nook of your neck before humming.

“Mrs. Nanami… My lovely wife…” Gentle voice feathering across the shell of your ear, Kento was gentle, besides the small pinch at your side to make you giggle, “Want to have a lazy morning?”

⊹ ࣪ ˖

“Then you found out you were pregnant.” As those words cooed out, his cock throbs deep inside gummy walls, and your heart does too, “Those are your wet dreams?” You giggle into the pillow, but the soft hump rolling against doughy globes robs that very breath.

“Mhm… Well, I think so? I fucked you full, so I assumed you'd be round and full with my kids…” The tender thrust bucking up into you signifies what he's been craving these past few nights – inner thoughts swirling with the idea of you being packed like a snow cone!

“Oh…” You gulp as Nanami pulls you closer by the hips, nudging in ‘till he was balls deep. It was like putting his dick to sleep in a pillow.

Sinking in every thick, turgid inch of cock meat into spongy walls that snap and suck him in, you could feel your husband worm right up to your womb. Thumping to invade soft barriers – he was stuffing you to the hilt purposely, as if he was trying to fuck the same thought into you…

Nanami hums, “What? Don't you want some one day? Or do you just like being stuffed?” Either or…

͙͘͡★ TOJI FUSHIGURO!

somno, cunnilingus, squirting, he's grouchy!

“Make me a mess…” Toji is irritated, this is a damn work night and he's woken up with drawls sticking to the fat of his thighs, again. Breaking those sweet sweet eight hours of sleep – if any, all of it was swept away with filthy thoughts of you…

Grumbling between the sweet heat of your legs, “I’ll make you a mess.” The assassin speared a wet muscle up and between your folds; flicking at your hood ‘till it puffed out… “Let’s see how you like it…” With a forceful shove, his lips mashed into those soft pillows.

Your head mashed into pillows yourself, unaware of the man feasting below your waist. Only aware— barely aware of those flitted blissful dreams…Which now, all warp into filthy scenes of sweating bodies humping and rolling together… His tongue was working as one of a spring bouncing into place; romping in and out so deep, he was fucking with your imagination...

His mouth suckled over the fine features of you lewdly, nestling the fat into the crook of his nose to ground his lips into lush flesh further. Smooshing folds down to nip at, Toji smirks, watching you swerve in sheets just how he was.

“Oh!— Fuck?!” Your eyes snap back wide, were you cumming? Peering down, “Toji?!” And gasping with wailing hands reaching for the shaggy strands sticking out beneath sheets, you were on the brink.

Still leaden, your were too late to pop off that suction forcing you to topple over... The unexpected clench twisting inside you made your eyes bug out. A sudden breathlessness rose to your throat – all the air in your body was forced out in one huge rush, just like the geyser spewing out from between your legs.

Pussy leaking, the man hiding under sheets peeked up, “Annoying huh?” Shaken and mottled with chills, no. Not… really? Though, the sheets and the entirety of his mouth were soaked, so were a couple of clothes, that was the only peeving thing about this… but it is laundry day anyway…

͙͘͡★ RYŌMEN SUKUNA!

cum eating, blow job-ish, he's also vv grouchy !

"Wake up." One of his strong arms sling over your shoulder, "Brat. Wake up." And it twists at the skin trying to nuzzle under the blankets.. Sukuna sighs, heavily, "You have a mess to clean up. Wake up right now." The rough nudge at your body was more than enough to wake you...

Humming, you whirl around only to get a crotch-level shot of your husband! Blinking, he clearly scooted his damn butt all the way up to the headboard, making sure you'd see the very mess he was complaining about soon as you roused. —And the still pounding cock that jutted in embarrassing need. That thick, meaty pole standing rock hard shaded into a deep red, the cum-soaked skin so flushed, he couldn't stop twitching... oh he was aching...

"Clean me." Sukuna waves a hand around. Subtly pointing at the gooey puddle pooling at his tummy, and it was a lot. Thick too, cooling ropes of midst cum stuck to his barred skin like a busted open bottle of glue.

"Sukuna... It looks like you made this mess—”

"No. You did. You keep sticking yourself in my head. It's annoying waking up like this." . . .

Sighing, "It's O.K to say you were dreamin' of me, again..." He hisses at that remark, but your cooling tongue flicking out simmered his temper...

Nectarous lotion and salt lathered over your lips as your hand dragged a long, languid tease across his shaft, "You're so moody when you're needy." Sukuna went to bite at those words, but feeling you vacuum up the globs of cum forced him to gnaw at his lip instead.

Sukuna's cum strung in your mouth as if you were flossing with it; running thickly down your throat, you slurp his tatted tummy clean. The thick blobs felt like gum rolling around in your mouth, trying to drink him up 'till the only slime trailing and glistening across skin was your messy spit.

"Good girl... Don't forget my cock now.." Milking the rest of his hot load with tight lips, you gurgle down his seed like a smoothie.

Suckling at the King's crown, Sukuna eventually deemed himself clean once you finally kitten-licked all the way down to his fist-sized baby makers... Sparkling new!

͙͘͡★ CHOSO KAMO!

he's a mess, dry humping, he whimpers ofc !

Twisting and turning, Choso was shamelessly humping at the sheets, again. It was almost the AM, but those sweaty limbs linking with yours kept forcing you awake...

"Choso..." You whine, but no louder than the one wafting straight into your back. Choso nestled beneath the covers and sunk himself further down the bed than usual; cramming himself against your spine to hump at the plush of your thighs 'till another bubble of cum oozed out his rubbery tip.

This was the third load he's cried out, so far! It's like a never-ending dream of fucking you raw when your around... He just couldn't stop thinking of you no matter how hard he tried! Even the agonizing nights when he slept on the couch, he'd fuck himself straight into the pillows – hearing whines of your name echoing from down the hall kept you up those times!

Choso's hips keep rutting like a damn dogs, feet kept kicking, and cock still throbbing knowing you were around, no matter what...

The longer he rolled his hips into yours, Choso's mess went tacky. It began to string out in fine lines through the sheer gaps in his confines; almost frothing like icing the longer he kept at it, unknowingly soaking your lower half too.

You couldn't stay sore with him, especially when his droopy eyes fluttered open. He looks so embarrassed out of his mind as he looks up at you like a bad puppy, realizing the mess he's created, he feels like an animal... Shame.

Whines turning into frantic rambles, "I'm sorry... l don't know what get a hold of me... Please..." And the soft whimpers following each syllable soften your gaze.

You peck at his swollen lips. Still too sensitive, Choso winces, and his hips jolt forward.

The wet center of his crotch nudges with yours; poking the hard blanketed tip right between the sweet heat of your legs. All you could feel was runny sap dampening your shorts, almost cooling as it soaked through to your panties, even feeling the moisture cling against your bundle of nerves.

"It's ok baby... I love you too." Nuzzling your nose into his, Choso was on the brink of groping cloud nine, again...

<– BACK: PINNED ⊹ ࣪ ˖ NEXT: JJK MASTERLIST –>

fwb: nanami kento (18+)

nanami kento doesn't know how to be just "friend's with benefits".

tags: (fem aligned user) (uses y/n) (jealousy) (not proofread also sorry this is my first real smut ive posted on tumblr) (uses the L word (gasp!))

(art for header found on pinterest)

•—————————————————————————•

fwb!nanami didn't know how to approach you, his friend and colleague, about being friend's with benefits. he wasn' the kind of man to just have sex with someone. he didn't fuck- he made love. it wasn't until gojo dug his nose in, asking you if you'd ever want a fwb within earshot of nanami- you saying you wouldn't be opposed- that made him even think to ask.

fwb!nanami who brought a bouquet of roses to your apartment the first time he came over to "netflix and chill," stumbling over his words and acting like an utter fool in front of you. it was cute, and you eased him into the situation as naturally and slowly as your body would allow. his arm was awkwardly placed on your shoulder as you nuzzled up against him on the couch, and he seemed all too focused on the movie that was playing.

"kento, do you just wanna watch the movie and try again another day?" your soft voice cooed, and it made him fall apart, the sweat on the back of his neck rolling down his back. oh god, you were so pretty. he knew he wasn't doing anything right, and yet you still looked up at him so affectionately. this isn't what friends with benefits act like, was it?

"n-no, i'm just.. i've never done anything like this before." he swallowed whatever moisture had stayed in his dry mouth, forcing himself to meet your eyes, only to meet an understanding gaze that tore down all of his walls.

"it's okay, we can go slow."

fwb!nanami who's so gentle with you during your first time together. even though you wanted your brains fucked out, his gentle touch and praise that spilled from his lips as you sunk onto his length was equally satisfying.

"you're so warm n tight, y/n.. i can't, 's too much. you feel so good," nanami groaned, his hands kneading your hips as your lips kissed along his neck, licking soothing stripes along his sensitive skin to ease him through it.

he wasn't a virgin, but still.. this. this was new. fucking someone just to fuck them. to fuck you, his gorgeous friend who had always behaved so normally towards him. would things stay normal between you two? he was already overthinking. how did friends with benefits just stay friends when all he could think about was how pretty your face twisted in pleasure, how soft your skin felt-

"kento," the sound of your sighed moan snapped him into reality, and he whimpered in his low, gentle voice, his head falling back against the couch as you rolled your hips against him. that's right- all he needed to think about right now was how good you felt milking his cock, not how your friendship was gonna turn out tomorrow.

"oh, fuck, y/n."

fwb!nanami who didn't wanna leave you that night when you fell asleep in his arms, your head resting on his chest. carefully, he carried you to bed, tucking you in while stroking his fingers through your hair.

"stay," your sleepy, mumbly voice shot an arrow through his chest just as he was trying to quietly leave your bedroom.

yes, of course he'd stay. you'd taken such good care of him, making sure he was comfortable while taking every last drop of cum he had to offer. he didn't realize how pent up he was until he unloaded into you the first time. but once your lips wrapped around him maybe an hour later, he grew more needy, thrusting his dick down your throat as he gently massaged the nape of your neck.

hesitantly he snuggled into bed with you, your sleeping form molding perfectly against his, your face subconsciously nuzzling into his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist to pull him close. were friends with benefits supposed to be this intmate? should his heart be racing like this?

but as the events of the day weighed heavier on him, he couldn't bear it, trying to find a way to fall asleep. with your steady breaths and warmth as you cuddled him it wasn't hard to get drowsy, but his thoughts consumed him. maybe this was a mistake- him and his bleeding heart.

fwb!nanami who made you breakfast the next morning. and everytime after that. he always brought you an offering like roses or flowers when he'd come over, and treat you like a queen each morning, kissing along your body to wake you up, tasting you before you'd get a taste of his cooking.

it was cathartic for him. no strings attached, just pleasure. it took him a while to understand the point in it, perhaps less stress?

though his heart still raced everytime you sat with him at work or hung out with him- not calling it a date.

"ken, you shouldn't have. we're just grabbing coffee," you whined with your face flushed red. again, this princely man bought your coffee for you and pulled out your chair as you sat at the cafe.

"i wanted to," he would say everytime, shaking his head. and he said the same when he insisted on walking you home from work, fucking you when you got home from work, massaging your muscles from the stress of work, oh lord this man was head over heels-

fwb!nanami who didn't realize he had fallen in love with you until someone at the grocery store asked for your number.

how could someone walk up to you, standing so pretty next to the shopping cart both you and him were putting groceries in, and ask if you were single? as if nanami wasn't standing right there, pushing your shopping cart, guiding you out of the traffic of other shoppers with his hand on the small of your back?

"oh, thank you, but i'm not interested in dating right now." was your response, making nanami's neck tighten. what does that mean? what were you two doing there?

you weren't dating, no. the point is that you were friends with benefits. no strings attached. just fucking, just pleasing each other. this grocery trip was as friends, the breakfasts together were as friends, the sex was as friends-

"ken," again, your voice was like the smooth, untouchable hand pulling him out of a bush full of thorns and pulling him into your softness. "did we get garlic already?"

"mhm," was the only sound to escape his throat. to hell if you were dating or not- he needed you, perhaps even more than you needed him. or at least more than you realized you needed him.

fwb!nanami who pounded you hard into the mattress that night. he was a gentle lover for the most part, always checking in on you, whispering your praises, moaning into your ear as he finished in you.

not tonight. he needed to let out that pent out rage, towards the person who asked you out of course- not you.

"who's this pretty pussy belong to, hmm?" he chuckled as he gripped your hair tighter, pressing your face down into your pillow harder. His free hand was holding your hips with a bruising grip, keeping your ass up as he fucked you into another orgasm.

"k-ken, aagh," you mewled, your hands balling into fists as you held the sheets tighter. "'m yours kento, f-fuck.."

he smiled- it was dizzying, your voice being so broken and yet so his. "that's it beautiful. all mine."

by the time he was satisfied he was dripping sweat, his chest against your back as his breath came out in ragged pants.

of course, ever the gentleman, he slowly slid his cock out from you, watching with possessiveness and satisfaction as his cum dribbled down your folds, and then your bruised thighs. a part of him felt bad for being so rough, but then watching your legs tremble and your pussy pulse around nothing made him feel much less guilty.

"lemme take care of you, pretty," he murmured, helping you stand before carrying you to the bathroom. he was so sweet, sitting down on the bench in the shower, having you on his lap facing him as he washed the sweat and mess off your body with his large yet gentle hands.

you were drowsy from the mix of getting fucked stupid and the heat of the shower, and nanami's soapy hands kneading at your flesh was only making you feel more at ease. you nuzzled your face into the crook of his neck, arms weakly wrapping around him.

"love you, ken," you murmured into his neck, eyes fluttering to try and stay open.

nanami froze, feeling an intense rush of heat rise to his face from ear to ear. he was sure that he would be the one to say it first. with how he worshipped you, he was positive that the words would leave his tongue first.

but alas there you were, softly kissing his collarbone as you fought to stay awake. his heart swelled, more than his cock as it twitched. god, he could fuck you again just for saying that. but more than that he wanted so desperately to kiss you.

"i love you too, y/n," he hummed, tilting your head up to meet your content smile, pressing his lips to yours, lovingly, as if he had never kissed you before.

jjk men putting in just the tip

characters: nanami, gojo, geto, toji | fem reader warnings: 18+, smut, dry humping, teasing, denial, dirty talk, begging, creampie all of these end with you getting fucked <3 hehe

NANAMI…

it’s a losing battle from the start. his willpower is weak and you already know this but it’s just too much fun to tease him.

nanami is grinding against you on the bed, rutting his cock on your pussy in desperation like he’s so horny that he doesn’t even know what to do with himself. if it weren’t for the fact that you were both still clothed, you’d basically be fucking already.

his pants are tented, the fabric stretched so far to accommodate his erection that it looks like it could break. every time he slides against your panties, the friction is delicious and you both moan. you’re wet down there and so is he, a damp spot appearing where he’s leaking precum. nanami rolls his hips into yours, faster and faster, and you gasp at the rush of pleasure that makes your head dizzy.

“let me—let me fuck you,” he says, eyes dark and filled with arousal. the words make you shudder. it’s so hot seeing nanami, who is usually so composed, begging and desperate like this.

“you can put it in,” you tell him, “but just the tip, okay?”

Keep reading

being nanami’s baby girl

feat gojo satoru, toji fushiguro, nanami kento & choso kamo

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, minors do not interact.

breeding, teasing, unprotected sex, daddy kink

buy me a coffee?

gojo satoru

teases you about it constantly. he can always tell when you're ovulating by the way you talk about babies, how you squeak every time you see a toddler in a cute little outfit, especially little boys in dino sweaters. you know gojo isn't looking to have kids soon, if ever, but he's always able to pull out the charm just enough to tease you while your baby fever sky rockets.

"oh my godd 'toru." you whine, pulling on his shirt to get his attention. the cutest little baby sits in a swing as you walk past the park, giggling as his mama pushes him. gojo just chuckles, shaking his head. "what's up baby?" he snickers, watching your eyes light up. "y'wanna go home and make one?" his eyebrows wiggle and you sigh with annoyance but you can't help the way your body reacts to his tone.

gojo wraps you in his arms and hums. "one day, princess. you'll be such a good mama." he kisses your forehead as you sink into his chest. "and you're gonna look so sexy pregnant..." he groans to himself at the thought. you roll your eyes as gojo pulls you close. "let's go practice, hm?"

toji fushiguro

loves to see you swoon over his kids, and is greatful you like 'em so much to give him a break. but he makes the mistake of falling for your little puppy-dog eyes and pouty bottom lip every night when you crawl into bed with him. he groans when you slide onto his chest, an innocent yet tempting look in your eyes.

"i wanna be a mama, toji." you say, seductive undertones of your voice making toji's cock throb. "you already are, hon." he answers with a chuckle when you playfully slap his chest. "you know what i mean!" you whisper yell, careful not to be too loud and wake the kids up. "wanna have a baby. gumi is getting soo big and i love him! but..."

toji smirks, his hands trailing down your hips and settling on your ass. "y'wanna have a baby?" he hums, lips finding your neck. "wanna be so full of me? have my kid in that belly of yours?" he bites back a moan when you grind on his quickly stiffening cock. you gasp when he suddenly flips you onto your back and looms overtop of you. "y-yes daddy please." your breathy little moan sets toji over the edge.

"anything for you, pretty girl..."

nanami kento

smart man, knows you're dying to have kids and isn't one to make you wait for almost anything in life. he's been away for a few days on a mission but you've been blowing up his phone about how much you miss him, and sending screenshots of ideas for decorating the nursery when the time comes.

he comes home from the mission with flowers and chocolate, greets you with a kiss at the door, and as soon as his hands are free, he scoops you up into his arms. "i'm ovulating..." you whisper into his ear, kissing down his jawline. nanami huffs a laugh. "you think i didn't know that, my darling?" he palms your asscheeks as he carries you to the bedroom. "you've been basically begging for a creampie since i got ready to leave." he drops you onto the mattress and follows quickly, already working on getting his pants undone.

you bite your lip, adrenaline starting to surge through you as nanami ignores the drawer where you keep the condoms. "you deserve that baby you've been so patiently waiting for, what a wonderful mother you'll be." he sighs as his raw cock pushes into your pleading pussy.

choso kamo

doesn't quite know how to react when you start making hints that you want children. he's caught off guard when you start showing him pictures of little baby shoes with cute pink bows all over them, but he can't deny that his body has a very physical and primal desire to fufill your wants. he's a family man, after all.

he wastes no time helping in tracking your cycle, wanting to take every possible chance in making your dreams a reality. he wants to see you pregnant again and again, bringing his first born as many siblings as you can both muster.

♡₊˚🥀₊✧ 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮 𝗶𝘀 𝗼𝗯𝘀𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝗰𝘂𝗯𝗶𝗻𝗲 ♡₊˚🥀₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 king x concubine 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 mentions of abuse 𖥔 mentions of sexual assault 𖥔 normal form sukuna (sorry yall but next time ill do his big boy one) 𖥔 he only has eyes for you 𖥔 you're his darling 𖥔 he would kill for you 𖥔 breeding (!!!!) 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 smut

: ̗̀➛ words: 8.8k

: ̗̀➛ notes: this took a whole WEEK to edit. im so obsessed with this story. it's my favourite thing ive written because i love period movies and dramas and really got to challenge my writing skills to give it more a fantasy-esque element. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.

The diligent hands of Lord Sukuna Ryomen’s palace attendants scrubbed away the grime that clung to every inch of your weary form. There were no traces of tears in your eyes, despite the discomfort of the cleansing process.

Perhaps it was the residue of gratitude for an escape from a foster family who saw fit to barter you away for a pittance to fuel their vices.

The water surrounding you had transformed into a murky haze, carrying away the evidence of your former life's hardships.

Yet, amidst this cleansing ritual, you couldn’t shake the puzzling thought of why the guards had singled you out from the other young women within the household. Uraume, the overseer of palace affairs, had arrived alongside them, their presence looming over the proceedings with an air of mystery.

That morning, you were subjected to abuse in front of everyone at the central market, longing for someone to stand up for you. And someone did. They offered you an escape from that hellhole and into a world of luxury.

You weren’t going to complain now that you had accepted this new fate of yours.

“Ya’ got too many scars, girl,” remarked one of the elderly attendants, gently assisting you out of the steaming bath, her hands wrapping a towel around your shivering form. “Our powders will struggle to conceal ’em all. How did ya’ come by such marks?”

“From my foster family,” you murmured, gaze fixed upon your toes as if they held the weight of your past. The plush carpet beneath your feet offered a small comfort, a luxury unfamiliar to your upbringing.

Memories of their harsh discipline flooded back—the blistering gravel underfoot as punishment for daring to voice dissent. It was a brutal introduction to a world where obedience was paramount.

“A wretched lot,” the attendant muttered sympathetically.

Enveloped in a silk robe, she led you into a chamber shared by a cohort of women, a realm far removed from the confines of your previous abode. Here, space was ample—the expanse excessive, with beds lining the walls and a high ceiling adorned with a single chandelier.

As you entered, a symphony of pretty faces and inquisitive gazes greeted you. Women of all colours and shapes reclined luxuriously in plain robes, their hair intricately braided or cascading freely down their backs. Conversations paused, curiosity piqued by your arrival, as all eyes turned to welcome you into their midst.

Beneath the weight of their scrutinising stares, you found yourself shrinking. These women, draped in silk and adorned with jewels, were the king's favoured concubines, a fact repeatedly emphasised during your journey to the palace and even in the fragrant confines of the bathhouse.

Every instinct urged you to rebel, to refuse to be just another ornament in the king’s harem, but you understood the value placed on purity by the monarch.

Unfortunately, your innocence had been cruelly stolen from you by your foster father, leaving you tarnished in body and spirit. Lord Sukuna would have no use for a damaged flower in his garden of perfection.

In truth, you couldn’t even imagine an image of his face in your mind. His Lordship remained a mystery to those beyond the palace walls.

“Here ya’ are.” The attendant guided you to your bed. “That vanity there’s yours to use.” She gestured toward the communal area by the window, where two other young women were preparing themselves. “Once your hair dries, one of my girls will assist ya’ in preparin’ for your audience with His Lordship.” Her touch was gentle as she caressed your cheek. “Rest assured, dear, ya’ safe now.”

You attempted a smile, though the effort seemed Herculean amidst your weariness.

As the attendant departed, her scolding to the rowdy girls fading into the background, you nestled into the comforting embrace of your soft bedding, ignoring the hushed criticisms trailing in your wake.

She’s feeble.

Her hair lacks refinement.

The king would never entertain a lowly pauper.

She’ll be gone by tomorrow.

Their words, like venomous serpents, slithered through the air.

Amidst their degradation, you succumbed to exhaustion.

But your slumber was interrupted by the bustling commotion of handmaidens assembling around you.

Disoriented and scarcely given a moment to collect your thoughts, you found yourself swiftly escorted to the vanity, where the clamour of girls jostling for space filled the air.

They manipulated your locks, weaving intricate patterns into your hair, fashioning a crown braid atop your head while allowing the remaining tresses to cascade freely down your back.

Meanwhile, other attendants removed your robe, their hands moving with practised efficiency as they anointed your skin with fragrant oils, infusing it with the delicate essence of lavender.

Between the flurry of activity, the whispers of your fellow concubines hung in the air like a veil of awe and trepidation. Their eyes were drawn to the scars marring your skin, as they speculated about how the king would perceive your imperfections as repulsive.

Good.

You craved precisely that outcome.

If the king recoiled at your sight, it meant he wouldn’t desire you to bear his heir. If the tales circulating in the town about his monstrous nature held any truth, then he’d likely offer you death as a reprieve—and you’d welcome it with open arms.

Before facing the king, you stole a glance at your reflection, the final moments of solitude before your fate was decided. The powder concealed the imperfections of your skin, rendering it smooth and flawless. Your cheeks and lips bore a muted hue reminiscent of crushed cherries. Delicate white blossoms adorned your hair, woven into your braids by nimble fingers.

As you stood, the other women adorned you in a robe of silky fabric, its floral pattern draping over your form, cinched at the waist to accentuate your curves. Barefoot, you followed them out, the chill of the floor beneath your feet a stark contrast to the warmth of anticipation and trepidation swirling within you.

“Good luck, pauper,” taunted one of the concubines, her voice dripping with disdain, echoed by a cacophony of mocking laughter.

Palms clammy with nerves, you shifted your gaze to the opulence of the palace corridors. Adorned with countless chandeliers and swathes of velvet drapery, they offered a stark contrast to the blooming back garden. Memories of tending to the earth and nurturing life back at your foster family’s home flooded your mind.

“Quickly now,” one of the maids urged, her voice tinged with urgency. “His Lordship detests tardiness.”

“I apologise.” You hastened your steps to keep pace with the group of attendants.

She halted before a grand set of double doors, guarded by imposing sentinels clad in formidable armour. With a flick of her wrist, the guards swung the doors open. She gently nudged you forward, and only as you crossed the threshold did the doors seal shut behind you.

You blinked, adjusting to the dimness within, scanning the chamber until your gaze alighted upon a pair of crimson glimmers opposite you. “My Lord?” You inclined your head and took hesitant steps toward the source of those fiery eyes.

“Come closer,” his command echoed through the chamber, sending a shiver down your spine. The low resonance of His Highness Sukuna Ryomen’s voice was unexpectedly rich and velvety. You had envisioned a voice tinged with age, but instead, it possessed a rough texture that awoken something within you.

With hesitant steps, you approached until you stood at the edge of his bed, your fingertips grazing the diaphanous curtains that enveloped him in a cocoon of privacy.

“Closer,” he urged, coaxing you to unveil the enigma lying beyond the veil.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you obeyed, parting the curtains and gracefully crawled onto the mattress. The silkiness of the sheets were a blatant contrast to the roughness of your foster house’s. A pang of guilt tugged at your conscience as you realized the irony of finding solace in this luxurious confinement of being his concubine.

“Enough.” His abrupt order halted your thoughts, drawing your attention back to the present moment.

As commanded, you obediently settled into your posture, folding your legs beneath you in the dimness. Within his shadowed realm, only the luminous crimson irises pierced through the gloom, studying you with an intensity that made your belly churn. Despite the curiosity burning within you, you restrained the impulse to voice your questions. Instead, you settled in the tranquillity that crowded the space between you.

“What is your name?” His inquiry cut through the hushed air.

“Y/N, my Lord.”

As your name slipped from your lips, he captured it delicately, repeating it like a sacred prayer. Each syllable danced on his tongue, imprinting itself upon the very essence of his being. In that moment, you observed a subtle shift—the shadows that had cloaked the chamber seemed to dissipate.

A soft, golden luminescence filtered through the parted curtains, cascading across half of Sukuna’s face.

You blinked in astonishment.

He appeared . . . young?

The age difference between you and him was not a chasm of decades, but rather a modest gap of no less than five years.

Physically, at least.

His appearance was striking, with locks of hair dyed a subdued pink hue, contrasting with a streak of darker shade beneath. His hair was styled into rugged spikes, lending an air of defiance. Intricate black markings adorned his features, tracing a path from his cheekbones down to his chin, while similar patterns wove across his strong shoulder, cascading over his defined pectoral muscles and sculpted abdomen.

As your eyes fell upon him, your heart quickened its pace, each beat a vicious drumming against your ribs. Gone was the expectation of a lord showing the signs of wisdom, with wrinkles upon his brow and a body marked by the passage of time. Instead, before you stood a vision of breathtaking beauty, defying your preconceived notions and leaving you breathless in awe.

With a graceful gesture, he swept aside the curtains, allowing them to unveil his entirety.

The same markings mirrored the other side of his face and cascaded down the length of his body, a mesmerising display of symmetry. Dark bands encircled his wrists, and his nails bore the same deep hue.

Poised against the headboard, he reclined with an air of effortless elegance, one knee raised as his elbow found a comfortable perch, while the other leg extended out. Though he was unclothed, a veil of silk sheets cloaked the lower half of his form.

“Remarkable,” you unknowingly whispered. Your hand clapped over your mouth. “I apologise, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s lips curved into a sinister grin, his flawless teeth gleaming in the golden light. While many would flee at the sight, you remained rooted in place, unable to tear your gaze away. A delicate flush spread across your cheeks, betraying the undeniable attraction simmering between your legs. He was absolutely divine, and the path of being his concubine suddenly didn’t seem so terrible.

Yet, the reality of sharing Sukuna with ten other women loomed over your thoughts like a shadow. The thought of him spreading his affections among so many others kindled a small flame of jealousy within you, mingled with confusion. Why hadn’t he impregnated at least one of them with the promise of an heir?

“Have you not been schooled in the art of lowering your gaze in the presence of nobility, Y/N?”

Your lashes fluttered as you registered your lapse in decorum, hastily averting your gaze. “Forgive me, my Lord, if my oversight has caused offence.” Surely, he wouldn’t punish you for a momentary lapse of admiration.

Would he?

A gentle touch beneath your chin guided your face upward. His fingers spread across your cheek, the warmth nearly forcing you to curve into his touch. Despite the temptation, your eyes remained obediently downward.

“Look at me.”

Your gaze lingered on him, tracing the delicate patterns etched over his cheek, the fiery hue of his irises, the elegant contour of his nose, and the soft curvature of his lips. Never before had you felt such a rousing desire towards any man. Yet fate had chosen to ensnare your heart with the one most forbidden to you.

“You bear a sadness that weighs heavily in your eyes,” he noted softly, his hand descending to the curve of your neck, his thumb caressing the frantic rhythm of your pulse. A low, melodic sound produced from his throat. “Tell me, my love, does the face before you stir fear within your heart?”

“It does not, my Lord. The fear of your appearance holds no dominion over me,” you declared with quiet resolve. “You’re quite . . . beautiful.”

Sukuna’s gaze sparked with a mixture of surprise and intrigue at your response.

Suppressing a nervous gulp, you silently reprimanded yourself for speaking so boldly to one of noble rank. Back in the confines of your former life, such defiance would have earned you swift punishment, yet here, in the presence of royalty, it could lead to your demise.

As you prepared to avert your gaze, ready to accept whatever consequences may come, Sukuna’s voice cut through the tense air before you could retreat.

“Don’t.”

In that moment, you found yourself questioning your instincts.

Why did you not cower in fear? Why did your body not tremble in the presence of a man who had slaughtered the lives of his enemies without hesitation? And most perplexing of all, how could you maintain unwavering eye contact with a figure of such formidable power?

“Remove your robe.” His grip remained firm around your throat, his thumb delicately tracing your pulse. “And do not stray your gaze elsewhere.”

“Yes, my Lord.” Your fingers loosened the fabric’s bindings, allowing it to cascade down your frame. The robe slipped from your shoulders, revealing the soft curvature of your form beneath. As it pooled around your lap, your breasts stood exposed to his scrutiny.

A shiver danced across your skin as his eyes traced the contours of your body, a faint smirk teasing his lips.

He brushed back strands of your hair, his touch trailing down your vertebrate. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, brows knitted together in contemplation, fingers repeatedly tracing the ridges of your scars.

“Turn around.”

The dreaded discovery that sent ripples of revulsion through the concubines had finally come to pass. Your scars lay exposed before the gaze of a powerful lord. Not only would he slit your throat, but also those of the maids who had tended to your needs, and perhaps even Uruame, who had brokered your purchase from the bastards responsible for your imperfections.

“Never before have I been compelled to repeat myself for a concubine.” His voice carried a lethal edge as he increased his grip around your throat. “Turn the fuck around.”

Your compliance came in slow, measured movements as you turned away, presenting your back to him in a gesture of submission. His hands gathered the strands of your hair, lifting them aside to reveal the raw truth etched into your skin. His fingers traced the jagged remnants of whip lashes, the seared imprints of cigars, and the cruel reminders of knife wounds inflicted by a foster father turned tormentor.

Silent tears traced a path down your cheeks, as you sat in a state of numbness, your gaze fixed upon the closed door of Sukuna’s chamber.

A tender sensation, soft and moist, grazed your back, prompting a reflexive twitch in your left shoulder.

Turning slightly, you beheld Sukuna pressing his lips against the scar that marred your shoulder blades.

“My Lord—”

“I did not ask you to speak,” he murmured over your skin, sending a tremor through your frame. “Rise onto your knees.”

Obeying his command, you ascended onto your knees, feeling the weight of his hands settle upon your waist. His lips trailed a path of reverence, bestowing kisses upon each mark that scarred your skin, from your marrow to your nape.

Your breath caught in a delicate dance of exhales, a whispered symphony escaping your parted lips. The wet caress of his tongue sent ripples of sensation coursing through your being.

His arm circled your waist, drawing you into the sanctuary of his embrace. A fleeting kiss graced the nape of your neck, followed by the suction of his lips upon the tender side of your neck. His soft hands possessively held the curve of your breasts, cradling their weight.

Your head reclined against his strong shoulder.

With his gaze fixed upon you, his lips glistened with a hint of moisture, while his crimson eyes locked onto your own human-like ones. You dared not divert your gaze as he previously ordered. His fingers pinched and pulled at your nipples, sending lightning strikes through your frame.

Unlike the non-consensual encounter of the past, there was no hint of agony; only a tantalising blend of pleasure that left you breathless, without a protest or helpless whimper. Instead, a sigh of pure rapture escaped your lips, encompassing your body in an embrace.

Sukuna’s gaze narrowed, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips as if he had stumbled upon a long-sought treasure.

His fingertips skated down your torso, gliding toward your centre. You captured your bottom lip between your teeth. Holding his gaze became a daunting challenge as he skillfully teased your sensitive nub, causing your breath to quicken and your chest to rise and fall with each exhilarating sensation.

Sukuna slid his middle finger into you. “You’re incredibly tight, Sad Eyes,” he murmured, the endearment he had bestowed upon you almost provoking a smile. His lips grazed your ear as he continued. “Perhaps I should stretch you out”—he pushed in his ring finger, forcing a sharp gasp to tear from your throat and an involuntary arch of your body against his chest—“so that your cunt is able to welcome my cock.”

You stifled the knot rising in your throat as Sukuna plunged his fingers into you. Such profound bliss seemed inconceivable with mere digits alone.

“My Lord.” Your breath caught as he increased his tempo. “My—” Each thrust intensified the knot in your stomach, threatening to unravel you entirely. You teetered on the brink, dangerously close to staining his fingers with your release. A sharp gasp choked out of you as he struck a wondrous chord deep within. “Please, my Lord. I beg of you—I will soil your hand if you persist—” But your plea dissolved into a cry of ecstasy before you could utter another word.

Sukuna’s laughter danced teasingly in the hollow of your ear, leaving you utterly spellbound.

You were overheated, overstimulated, overridden by the explosive undoing of his fingers. Breathless and consumed by lust, your world spun as he seized your jaw and crushed his lips to yours.

In that electrifying moment, his tongue invaded your mouth, initially startling you, yet you surrendered to the rhythm.

Sukuna leaned back slightly after planting a tender peck on your lips. Exhaling softly, he threaded his fingers through your hair, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As his lips met yours once more, gentler this time, your hand ventured to trace the contours of his adorned chest.

“You are quite the vixen.” A playful glint danced in his eyes. “How valiant of you to seduce a lord into bestowing kisses upon his concubine.” A broad smile graced his lips, leaving you uncertain whether his words were playful jest or genuine admiration.

“Do you not bestow your kisses upon all your concubines, my Lord?”

“I do not pleasure their cunts, either.”

His speech carried the brashness of a tempest, a departure from the expected decorum one associated with royalty. Sukuna Ryomen defied conventions. It was a trait uncommon among lords, yet one that intrigued you deeply. His demeanour, both in battle and in the intimate confines of the bedchamber, lacked the softening. But you found yourself drawn to his unfiltered honesty, appreciating the absence of cryptic speech.

As you sat before him, considering your next words carefully, a surge of courage emboldened you to reveal your truth.

“My Lord,” you began, your voice quivering with uncertainty, “I . . . I am not pure.”

“Given the sounds you were drawing out,” he quipped with a chuckle, “I wouldn’t have surmised otherwise.” He assisted you in rising from where you rested against his chest, positioning you before him. Observing your solemn expression, he arched an eyebrow in curiosity. “Was your satisfaction not fulfilled?”

“Indeed, my Lord, it surpassed any expectation,” you confessed, worrying your lip as he sighed impatiently. “But I must disclose . . . I am not chaste.”

Sukuna’s response was subdued, save for the faint twitch in his jaw. He averted his gaze from yours momentarily, reaching for the decanter on his bedside table and pouring himself a measure of spirits.

“Speak,” he instructed, his tone clipped.

“It occurred before I reached maturity,” you murmured softly, your arms wrapped protectively around yourself. “My foster father—” Your words faltered as Sukuna raised a hand, a silent acknowledgment of his comprehension of your unspoken anguish.

“I need not hear more.” He swiftly consumed the crimson liquid in a single gulp. “You are dismissed for the night.”

“But my Lord’s desires remain unmet—”

“Leave,” he commanded, his tone final and unwavering.

With a gulp, you hastily gathered your robe around your form, delicately extricating yourself from his expansive bed.

Just as you thought to retreat, a firm hand seized your wrist, drawing you back into Sukuna’s embrace. His lips melded with yours in an intoxicating kiss, causing both your gazes to flutter open when he pulled away. A faint smirk played upon his lips as he adjusted the robe over your shoulder.

“Next time,” he murmured, plucking a flower from the adornments in your hair and placing it upon his bedside, “you shall grace my chambers without such distracting embellishments upon yourself.”

“As you wish, my Lord,” you replied with a respectful bow of your head, awaiting his dismissal until he gestured for you to depart with a casual wave of his hand.

In the shared chambers, your fellow concubines swirled around your bed, eager to hear of your inaugural encounter with Lord Sukuna.

Each girl shared their own vivid tales, painting scenes of ecstasy under the cloak of darkness, where the king’s touch invoked sensations akin to celestial bodies colliding, or where unfamiliar pleasures erased the boundaries of their throat—whatever that latter entailed.

Though a twinge of jealousy flickered within you, it was swiftly overshadowed by a swell of pride. The concubines pleasured Sukuna in darkness, the same darkness you had willingly entered, before his touch had set ablaze a world of gold for you.

They were merely beautiful means of physical gratification for their lord, devoid of the intimacy you shared—his fingers delving deep into your core. And never had any of them spoken of kisses exchanged. Sukuna had spoken true when you questioned if others received similar treatment.

But why you?

Why, after a mere span of ten hours within the palace walls, did you find yourself, dare you entertain the notion, as his favoured? What magic did you possess that drew him to you, and how had you managed to seduce his lips, his fingers, to meet yours in such an intimate embrace?

“Did he spend himself inside you?” one of the girls whispered, prodding your knee to rouse you from your silence.

“No.”

“Aye, he never does,” remarked a golden-haired girl with a resigned sigh. “He sees to it that we consume some berries afterward, claiming they prevent conception. Strange, isn’t it? Especially if he’s so eager for an heir.”

Another girl hushed her, leaning in with a conspiratorial tone. “Did he take you from behind? That’s his favoured position, you know. He’s had us all that way.”

You stumbled over your words, unsure how to respond.

“And did you savour his taste?” came the next question. “It’s quite rich in sodium—”

“Girls!” A booming voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, startling you and the other concubines into immediate attention. You caught sight of the elderly attendant who oversaw your care, hands planted firmly on her hips as she observed the chaotic scene before her.

With a disapproving huff, she pivoted sharply on her heel and departed, leaving a lingering sense of reprimand in her wake.

As the frenzied chatter about Sukuna’s body attributes gradually dissolved into the quietude of sleep, morning arrived with its routine of communal showerings.

Throughout the shared bath, you silently scrubbed away the remnants of the night, indulging your fellow concubines about your previous life in town.

Upon drying off and exiting the bathing chamber, you were met with an unexpected sight: a gathering of the girls clustered around your bed.

Navigating through the throng, you reached your space to discover a resplendent scarlet silk robe embroidered with intricate black floral patterns.

Gingerly lifting the note placed atop the fabric, you read Sukuna’s precise handwriting. Curious glances from the other concubines peered over your shoulders in anticipation.

No distracting embellishments, Sad Eyes.

“What does that mean?” a curious whisper floated through the air, followed by murmurs of intrigue from the other girls. “Why does he call you ‘sad eyes’?”

You clutched the letter to your chest, suppressing a grin as you ignored the questions, the mockery, and the jostling of bodies around you. Your attention was fixated on the magnificent robe gifted to you by His Lordship.

For the remainder of the evening, you slept without any interruptions, seeking to compensate for the countless nights spent battling insomnia within the confines of your foster home.

You observed with a keen eye that none of the other girls were ushered to Sukuna’s chambers; their time seemed to veer toward strolls in the back garden or spent in the dormitory, indulging in wine-fueled scandals about the palace staff, as was their custom.

As the clock struck eight in the evening, a troupe of maids entered the chamber bearing dinner trays. A wave of anticipation swept through the room as the other girls eagerly accepted their meals and accompanying pitchers of water. Your own stomach rumbled in hunger, awaiting your own turn.

But that moment never arrived.

Instead, the maid bypassed your bed entirely, moving on to the next. A surge of apprehension rippled through you as a handmaiden approached, guiding you away from the mattress and toward the vanity.

“What about my dinner?” you asked as the attendants groomed your hair.

“His Lordship has extended an invitation for you to dine with him tonight,” came the reply.

The room fell into a sudden hush.

Dine with him?

The notion sent a flurry of thoughts racing through your mind.

Before you could process further, you found yourself pulled upright, your garments removed to be replaced by the scarlet robe.

Envy flickered in the eyes of the other concubines as they observed, their resentment palpable as they stabbed at their food with exaggerated aggression. It wasn’t your doing that Sukuna had taken an unexpected interest in you.

With no adornments save for a dab of crushed cherry paste upon your lips, you were escorted to Sukuna’s chambers.

Once more, the imposing doors swung open, and you found yourself gently ushered into the chamber. As they sealed shut behind you, the room was flooded with light. Sukuna’s figure stared out at the moonlit gardens outside, clad in a billowing white silk robe.

“My Lord,” you greeted respectfully, inclining your head in deference.

“Draw near.”

Complying with his directive, you approached and stood at his side. His presence loomed over you, his stature commanding and formidable, capable of engulfing you entirely with a single embrace. Not that such thoughts dared to linger in your mind.

“Why is your face flushed?” he asked, his gaze penetrating.

You blinked, attempting to dismiss the telltale warmth creeping up your cheeks. “It’s nothing, my Lo—”

Before you could finish, Sukuna turned your chin towards him, his palm coming to rest against your forehead. A nervous swallow traced its way down your throat at his touch, his eyes trailing down your form, a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his lips as they settled upon you in your robe.

“Thank you for your gracious gift,” you murmured, feeling the warmth rise to your cheeks.

His fingers trailed through your hair, a mischievous glimmer dancing in his eyes. “I anticipate nothing less than thoroughly enjoying the privilege of removing it off of you.”

You blushed deeper at his statement.

“Come now. I’ve brought a surprise for you.” He took your hand in his with a tug, guiding you towards a doorway. With a simple flick of his hand, the door parted, revealing a dimly lit hallway beyond.

Your gaze widened in astonishment. “How did you do that, my Lord?”

“Do what?”

“You opened the door without laying a hand on it.”

Sukuna’s striking blood-coloured eyes cut to you. “There is much about me that will be unveiled in due course, my love. What you perceive is but a guise for my true nature.” His smile, oddly childlike, sent a chill down your spine.

Was he some sort of sorcerer? You’d only heard whispers of human anomalies lurking beneath the earth’s surface or sealed within vessels, but historical accounts weren't exactly your cup of tea.

“I ventured into town today,” he said.

“Oh.” You swallowed hard, recovering from his previous statement. “I hope it was a fruitful trip.”

“Indeed, quite fruitful.”

In the soft glow of the distant hallway, Sukuna’s face came into view, casting a spell of trepidation upon your heart. His features were drawn into a mask of stoicism, his eyes devoid of warmth, and his lips pressed into a firm line, jaw rigid with tension.

Parting the curtains, Sukuna drew you near, his arm sweeping out to reveal a horrifying sight: your foster father, bound to a chair with chains, bearing the cruel marks of torture.

His face marred by countless wounds, an eye cruelly absent, his mouth devoid of teeth, scattered at his feet. His dignity stripped away, his vulnerability laid bare in his nakedness, and his manhood amputated.

The sickening lurch in your stomach threatened to betray your composure. “F-Forgive my intrusion, my Lord, but is he . . . is he dead?”

Sukuna’s response was a gilded dagger from within his robe, its handle decorated with a jewel reminiscent of your own captivating eyes. Nestled within the hilt was the very flower he had plucked from your hair, a twisted token of affection. Upon the blade, your name was inscribed.

“Do as you wish, my beloved,” he whispered, his voice stained with dark fascination, offering you the instrument of your foster father’s fate with a chilling sense of detachment.

You couldn’t possibly bring yourself to commit such a heinous act.

Despite the unspeakable cruelties inflicted upon you by the bastard, the idea of taking another’s life filled you with a trembling dread.

Yet, the itch to end the torment, to rid the world of such a vile presence, simmered just beneath the surface as you stood before him, his life slipping away.

A hand trailed down the back of your head, guiding your trembling fingers to grasp the dagger tightly.

Looking up, you met Sukuna’s gaze, his expression hollow, his features obscured by shadows. This was the face of the Devil that cursed his enemies on their knees and had them willingly submit to death.

With a push from behind, you stumbled forward, drawing closer to your step-father’s prone form.

Glancing back at Sukuna, you were met with an incongruously bright smile. Quite a twisted paradox, His Lordship.

Your step-father sat unconscious, the stench of his bodily fluids assaulting your senses. His wounds oozed with a sickening mixture of blood and pus, his laboured breaths the only indication of life remaining within him. The scene was painfully familiar, a mirror image of the torment you had endured countless times before.

But now, someone had intervened, offering you a chance at liberation, a chance to end the cycle of abuse once and for all.

You glanced back again.

Until Sukuna.

Your gaze reluctantly returned to the true embodiment of cruelty before you. With a steady hand, you raised your arm, wielding the dagger with purpose.

It found its mark in your foster-father’s chest, a chilling silence punctuated only by the sound of steel meeting flesh. Ignoring the strangled cry that erupted from him, you withdrew the blade, then drove it back into his heart.

Out.

In.

Out.

In.

His lifeblood painted your face and stained your pristine garments, mingling with the fabric in a macabre dance of crimson. To the untrained eye, it could easily be mistaken for a mere splash of vibrant colour upon your robe.

No one would dare suspect the truth.

No one would dare come near if they knew of your sin.

No one, except Sukuna.

Once the monster over your bed was consigned to the depths of hell, his guts spilling onto the floor around your bare feet, you allowed yourself a moment of grim satisfaction.

With a contemptuous snarl, you spat upon him, a visceral response to the years of degradation he had inflicted upon you for every misstep.

A comforting warmth touched your back.

Startled by the sudden contact, you tensed before easing at the sight of Sukuna’s faint smile.

As he reached to caress your cheek, you instinctively recoiled, lowering your gaze in deference.

“Forgive me, my Lord,” you murmured, “but I cannot permit you to spoil your hands with the blood of this man.”

Sukuna’s shoes entered your line of sight as he tilted your chin upward, his moon-white sleeve wiping away the traces of blood from your mouth and its vicinity. “You appear rather exquisite painted in blood, Sad Eyes. Perhaps I ought to designate you as my prized assassin instead of a mere concubine.”

“I beg your pardon, my Lord, but I cannot partake in killing . . . again.”

“You need not worry,” he whispered, his breath warm against your ear as he drew near. “I will defend you from any who dare cast their gaze upon you, let alone lay a hand upon your delicate form. Those who dare cross that line will face my wrath, their very existence extinguished before your eyes. Not a single tear shall stain your cheeks." His lips brushed against yours. "From this moment forward, fear shall not reside within you. By my side, you shall command fear itself, my love."

That night, Sukuna bathed you in the sanctuary of his chambers, washing away the traces of blood from your skin as you gazed at him with a sense of wonder. It wasn’t the superficial admiration the other concubines whispered about—it was a profound affection blossoming within you, nurtured by power and protection.

He draped you in the luxurious folds of one of his silk robes, summoning servants to prepare dinner. Seated upon his lap, he fed you spoonfuls of rich and chicken, even as your stomach protested its fullness. Soft kisses peppered your neck like a sweet dessert, culminating in one upon your lips before he reluctantly released you to retire to your dormitory.

In the ensuing weeks, Sukuna would consistently send a crafted robe ahead of each meeting—in the serene seclusion of his chambers, where the flickering candlelight cast shadows upon the walls as you dined together.

Over the course of these intimate dinners, he eagerly absorbed your musings, whether they revolved around the narratives of books discovered within the palace library or your adeptness with herbs and plants, nurtured by your profound knowledge.

On occasion, as the first light of dawn painted the sky with hues of pink and gold, Sukuna would summon you for a stroll in the haven of the back garden. Woven between the fragrant blooms, you’d dance about with childlike enthusiasm, identifying various flowers and tracing their lineage.

Ever the attentive listener, Sukuna trailed behind you, his gaze fixed upon your animated figure. He would only speak when you fell silent, demanding you to continue sharing the familial ties between apples, plums, and the roses they stemmed from.

Within the crevice of your soul, the once withered garden of affection had flourished into a lush wilderness, blossoming with untamed wildflowers and clouds that spelled out his name.

Sukuna inhabited your every waking thought, his intoxicating mouth that worshipped your body left you giggling in delight behind your hands.

Yet, each encounter with a fellow concubine, flushed and eager with tales of their rendezvous with him, felt like thorns piercing your tender heart. Jealousy, like ivy creeping upon stone, entwined itself around your every plagued thought. Your gaze often strayed to the bedside drawer where the dagger lay dormant. The mere mention of his physique by the other women tormented your soul relentlessly.

Why hadn’t Sukuna taken you as he had with every other concubine? You had grown accustomed to his presence, even eager to reciprocate the pleasure he gifted you every evening. You had offered yourself willingly, aching for the intimacy that would bind you even closer to him. But he had not claimed you in the same manner, not entered you fully, not seeded his legacy within you.

Did he question your worthiness? Did he see you merely as a transient pleasure? Were you destined to remain just a concubine, forever denied the honour of carrying his child?

“Why do you remain silent?” Sukuna asked, turning the pages of the book you had suggested to him; he was already half-way through.

You were seated snugly between his legs upon the bed, your back rested against his chest, fingers idly toying with the strands of your hair. “I find myself devoid of words this evening.”

“Hmm.” Sukuna took a leisurely sip of his drink before placing it aside. “Surely you can conjure something. You know well enough that I cannot endure your silence.”

With an exasperated sigh, you rolled your eyes. “Well, I apologise for failing to provide you with amusement, my Lord.”

Sukuna snapped the book shut.

You instinctively pressed your lips together, silently chiding yourself for the unintended sharpness in your voice.

With a heavy sigh, you resigned yourself to maintaining your composure, forcing yourself to take slow, steady breaths. Deep down, you believed that he wouldn’t inflict harm upon you or cast you out of his chambers. But the nagging thought chewed at you.

This was Sukuna Ryomen, and you . . . well, you were merely a shadow in comparison.

“If you crave my touch,” he breathed softly into your ear, “all you need to do is utter the request.”

With a determined resolve, you turned to face him, settling yourself upon his lap. Sukuna regarded you with a quirked eyebrow, a quiet acknowledgment of your unconventional audacity.

“I do crave your touch, my Lord,” you confessed, your voice a hushed plea, “but not only with your hands or lips. I long to feel you in a different manner.” Your gaze drifted down to his pelvis, the unspoken appetite evident in your eyes. “I crave that.”

Sukuna exhaled heavily, his gaze piercing as he addressed you. “So, you’ve been withholding your words simply because I haven’t fed you my cock?"

Heat rose to your cheeks at his blunt proclamation, though you had grown accustomed to his coarse mannerisms over time.

“Yes, my . . . Lord.” Your voice carried a mixture of embarrassment. “I’ve endured three long months of anticipation, patiently waiting to share in the pleasures enjoyed by your other consorts. Yet, with the arrival of autumn, I find myself still untouched by the experiences they so openly boast about.”

His lips curled into a smirk. “Are you asking me to bed you merely for the purpose of becoming a notch in your bragging rights?”

“Never, my Lord!” you protested vehemently, a hint of hurt flickering in your eyes. “I would never demean you with such vulgar talk in public. I’ve spun tales to the others, concealing the truth of our encounters. They remain oblivious to the pleasures you’ve granted me.” Your fingers traced the intricate markings on his chiselled abdominal muscles. “If my spoiled state displeases you, if I am deemed unworthy of your touch, pray, inform me now. Regardless, my sole wish is to fulfil His Lordship’s needs.”

Sukuna disentangled your hands from his chest, a gesture that caused a fissure to form within your heart, forcing your body to instinctively withdraw from his touch.

Just as you began to pull away, he swiftly encircled his arm around your waist, tugging you back onto his lap with a firm grip. Before you could utter a single word, his lips descended upon yours, silencing any protest with a passionate kiss.

With a purposeful touch, he skillfully divested you of your robe, revealing the curves of your form beneath. His hands, warm and adept, began to massage your supple breasts, kindling soft gasps from your lips. His own trailed a wet path downward, leaving a bridge of feverish kisses along the expanse of your throat, lingering over the rapid pulse beneath your skin.

As his lips found purchase on the tender flesh of your neck, his actions became more urgent, his touch more demanding. A pinch at your pebbled nipples sent a shiver of sensation coursing through you, followed by the heat of an open-mouthed kiss.

Your gaze drifted downwards, enchanted by the sight of his tongue encircling the sensitive spots, suckling on the swollen buds like a babe. Already, heat was building within the depths of your being, igniting a flame that spread between your legs.

Sukuna laid you back, relishing the delicate flavour of your lips as his fingers skillfully sought out your throbbing clit, stimulating it with unhurried circles.

With practised ease, he slipped two fingers inside you, quickening his rhythm without preamble. Your hand instinctively traced down to his chest, undoing the fastenings of his robe.

“Take it,” he whispered against your mouth, his breath mingling with yours. “Satisfy your lord, my love.”

Your fingers curled around his pulsating cock, the very object of desire that the other girls had passionately recounted. The knowledge of their previous intimacies with him only stoked the flames of envy within you, spurring you to intensify your ministrations.

With a surge of determination, you quickened the pace of your caresses, applying pressure with your thumb upon his sensitive tip while fondling his sacs.

Sukuna’s grin widened against your lips as he reciprocated with equal zeal, slipping a third finger into your slick heat until he was fully engulfed by your swollen core.

Together, you sailed upon the waves of carnal desire, locked in a lecherous race to reach your climax, each vying to be the first to cross the finish line—

Sukuna’s low, guttural moans resonated throughout the chamber.

You had achieved victory.

His essence spilled forth into your waiting hands, his cock convulsing with the intensity of his release. Moments later, you succumbed to your own climax, a soft cry escaping your lips.

With care, Sukuna withdrew his hand from your centre, and you instinctively examined your palm, noting the striking resemblance of his essence to your own.

You tentatively brought your fingers to your lips, savouring the taste of him.

“I did not instruct you to do that,” he growled, his gaze blazing as you tasted him. “But I suppose I’ll permit it.”

“It is salty,” you murmured, almost absentmindedly.

“Oh for fuck’s sake, are you women incapable of discussing anything besides my cock?” he exclaimed, frustration evident in his tone.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the tension dissipating as he cleaned his fingers with his tongue before tenderly cradling the back of your head, drawing you to sit upon his lap. Your laughter softened into chuckles, a smile playing upon your lips.

“Did I please you, my Lo—”

“Ryomen,” he interrupted firmly. “Only you may address me by my given name.”

“My L—”

“I command it.” His tone left no room for argument.

You affirmed your agreement with a nod, the name Ryomen echoing through your mind. Sukuna had been your private moniker for him, but now, in this intimate exchange, he was Ryomen. Your Ryomen. Maybe one day, you would shorten it to Ryo.

“Very well, Ryomen.” You felt a subtle shift in the air between you. His chuckle rumbled softly. “Shall I turn around for you?”

“And why do you deem such an unnecessary act necessary?”

“Because—” You suppressed the urge to divulge the whispers of the other concubines regarding his favoured position. “Never mind. How would you prefer me to present myself to you?”

“As you are,” Ryomen answered, his grip tightening around himself. “How you managed to have me spend by your hand in under five minutes is a marvel beyond my comprehension.”

Internally, you gave yourself a congratulatory pat on the back.

“Now, my love,” he said, inclining his chin towards his erection, “will you do my cock the honour of sitting on it?”

Licking the grin of your lips, you nodded, rising to your knees. With nimble fingers, you positioned his hardened length at your entrance, gradually lowering yourself onto him.

A sharp intake of breath escaped Sukuna’s lips, his hands instinctively grasping your hips. You bit down on the inside of your cheek, enduring the initial sting of penetration. Perhaps every touch of his fingers had been a meticulous groundwork for this pinnacle moment.

As you settled into your seat upon him, you granted yourself a minute to acclimate to the sheer magnitude of him stretching and filling your tight, supple walls.

Sukuna tilted his head back, impatience evident in his eyes. “Will you begin moving at a pace befitting this century, Sad Eyes?”

“Just a moment,” you retorted, your tone tinged with defiance.

“Unfortunately, the sight of your leaking cunt is testing my patience,” he remarked, his gaze lingering provocatively on your flushed form.

Collecting yourself, you affirmed your resolve with a nod before subtly adjusting your position, and swaying your hips forward. His strong hands guided you, aiding your movements as you sought a rhythm. “Gods, you’re—you’re quite large. It’s rather discomforting.”

“Ah, where has the enthusiasm to please your lord vanished, my love?” His laughter echoes through the chamber as he leaned back, amused by your scowl. “I must confess, your defiance is perhaps your most alluring trait. It has crossed my mind more than once during moments of handling myself in the bath.”

Your brow furrowed in dismay.

It was evident that the other concubines possessed far greater expertise in pleasuring him than you ever could. All you could manage was to feign enthusiasm, your movements faltering and disjointed, as you struggled to produce even a fraction of the satisfaction they effortlessly blessed him with. His laughter, which wasn’t helping your cause, bore an uncanny resemblance to the mocking tones of the girls who had taunted you in the past.

You no longer wished to endure this charade.

You halted in your tracks, unable to muster the courage to meet his gaze, your eyes fixated instead on his throat. “It appears . . . that I may not be adequately versed in fulfilling your needs. I shall endeavour to educate myself further before making another attempt. For now, I request permission to retire for the evening, my Lord.”

Sukuna’s grip tightened as he seized your jaw, compelling you to meet his gaze. “You dare to defy my command to address me by my given name?” His smile remained wicked as he drew your face closer to his own. “Remember, my love, there is a boundary to which I tolerate your rebellion. Do not allow my affections to cloud your judgement. I remain your Lord, above all else. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” you managed to gasp out.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Ryomen,” you replied, your voice trembling with uncertainty.

With a swift motion, he released your sore jaw, and before you could even consider easing the ache, his lips crashed against yours.

In that moment, control slipped from your grasp entirely. His hands gripped the flesh of your buttocks possessively, guiding your movements as he claimed you with a primal savageness that left you shaking in his embrace.

“Does it pain you, my beloved?” Sukuna growled, his fingers curling around your nape possessively. “Do you feel the strain of my cock as I breach your tender walls?”

You whimpered softly, your head nodding against the curve of his neck.

“Fear not, my darling. I will diligently train this cunt of yours to accommodate every inch of me, dusk, dawn, and twilight. Your throat, too, shall be honed to fulfil my every whim, wherever and whenever I demand.” With a swift motion, he tugged your hair, forcing you to meet his glare. “And should you dare to entertain thoughts of defiance with any other man beyond the confines of my chamber, rest assured, there will be consequences.”

“Ryomen,” was all you gasped, eyes rolling back as his tip probed the depths of your womb. His tongue traced the delicate curve of your throat before shoving into your mouth, drawing out your own to suckle on. In the heat of the moment, your hands roamed aimlessly, torn between grasping at his waist, clutching his shoulders, or caressing his cheeks.

“Oh, how I love the sight of your breasts greeting me in my face.” Sukuna tightened his hold on each of them with a deadly grasp, savouring the melodious cry that escaped your lips. He lowered his head and teethed each nipple, drawing it out and relishing in the masochism of your sharp nails clawing down his back. “Deeper, my darling. You alone hold the privilege of marking my flesh. Let my scars mirror yours.”

With caution, you shifted your hands to rest upon his firm pectoral muscles before you could accidentally claw out his spinal cord.

Sukuna’s touch drifted from your bruised breasts to cradle your face, guiding your gaze to meet his crimson one.

Encouraged by his comforting presence, you arched your hips forward with newfound confidence. His fingers swept through your hair, pushing it away as he offered reassuring nods.

Now, the reins rested firmly within your grasp.

“Fuck . . .” Leaning back against the headboard, he released soft sighs. Warm breaths escaped his parted lips as you continued increasing your ministrations. Your gaze momentarily flickered to your favourite book resting on his bedside table before returning to his face.

Suddenly seized by an impulse, you leaned forward to plant a tender kiss upon his lips, trailing upward to gently brush against his cheekbones, tracing the intricate markings lining his skin.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Someone must play the role of the tender one between us, Ryomen,” you answered, mirroring the attention he had given your scars during your initial encounter. With each kiss, you felt his eyes tracing your movements, following the path of your lips as they journeyed across his face, landing upon his nose or the pulse of his neck.

“My beloved,” Sukuna’s voice caressed your ears, drawing your focus entirely to him, “listen closely to my words.”

You halted your movements, a curious expression dancing in your eyes. “What troubles you?”

With a deliberate motion, he guided your hips forward, his gaze unwavering. “Throughout the night, I will fill your womb ceaselessly, and in mere weeks, you shall carry my legacy within you.” Your heart leaped into your throat, fluttering with an overwhelming rush of emotion. “Peril will shadow your every step. Those who oppose us will stop at nothing to eliminate your life and the life of our child. Do you comprehend the gravity of our situation?”

You blinked back the tears, resigning yourself to the inevitable.

“But I vow upon my honour, such an atrocity shall never come to pass. I will sever entire bloodlines if even a single strand of your precious hair were harmed.” His movements quickened as he thrusted into you.

Your grip tightened on his shoulders again, gasping for breath between erratic pants.

“At dawn’s light, all concubines shall be reassigned to palace duties. You need only point out those who have dared to trouble you, though their transgressions are already known to me.” His motions became more intense as he pressed you onto your back, pinning your arms above your head. “And when the sun graces the horizon, you, my beloved, shall be proclaimed as my queen.”

Your voice wailed through the chamber as you cried out his name, drowning in the waves of scorching pleasure never before experienced.

Instead of seeing celestial bodies colliding, your gaze met the deep crimson of his irises, those same eyes that had captivated you on that very first night.

“Ryomen . . . ”

With a smile mirroring his own, you tilted your head upward, silently beckoning him to seal the moment with a kiss. As he obliged, his cock pulsed within you, filling you with his warmth until every fibre of your being was tethered with his.

But he didn’t withdraw. Just as he had promised, he intended to keep you close throughout the night, to claim you as his own.

And in that moment, as you laid with him, you welcomed the dawn of a new chapter standing beside him, prepared to reign as Sukuna Ryomen’s queen.

you taught me how to love, a sukuna drabble

tags: fem reader, smut, LOTS OF FLUFF, true form sukuna in the heian era, might be a bit ooc sukuna bc he's not a dick BUT FUCK IT I LOVE SOFT KUNA OKAAAAY, I'm a soft kuna defender for lifeee, sukuna calls u cute pet names btw, you guys should read this when you're sad and need something to get ur mind off of the day, ily!!

Sukuna loves it when his cock slides deep inside you, nesting his cock there as he finally starts thrusting languishly inside your pussy where it feels like home to him. 

He loves being with his beautiful woman. He loves being inside you, but he also adores just resting on his massive bed that you two share. His true form takes up most of the bed, but you prefer to lay your small body across his large chest when you're both worn out from the day. Sukuna always anticipates whenever you two have your resting moments. It's therapeutic to him. 

He doesn't remember when he fell for you. It must have been when you broke down his walls, teaching him that love isn't always a weakness and that he deserves to have someone by his side. That person being you. 

You moan as he snaps his hips and strokes his cock against your sweet spot. His thrusts feel agonizingly slow and you want to order him to go harder. “Harder, ‘Kuna!” You cry, wanting to feel his cock destroy your pussy, but he just shushes you and tells you to be patient. He wants to take his time before he ruins you, he wants to feel your tight pussy squeeze his massive girth before he claims your pussy with his cock. He loves the feeling of your pussy crying against him. He loves the tears you make as you beg him for more. 

He loves you. He adores you. He admits he would kill for you. He would kill to protect you. You are his and he won't let anyone take you from him. 

“I want to feel you, my sweet flower. Let me take my time.” He says, reaching his head down to press kisses to your erect nipples, catching one between his lips and sucking them. The sensation makes you even more wet, loving the way his cock hits your g-spot. His thrusts are getting a bit faster, and your soft moans are becoming more wanton. Everything about Sukuna is massive, from his cock to his body to his love for you. You still can't believe you could take all of him the first time you did. 

The way he's thrusting inside you changes suddenly as he picks up the pace. The slowburn was delicious but you're just glad you're getting to the main course of this meal. Sukuna pumps his cock inside you vigorously, and you cry out from the delicious feeling of his cock pounding inside you. You love that he's taking care of you, making you feel good after a long day. You want to cum around his cock so bad. You know you deserve to cum, you've been so good to him lately. 

“Does my sweet flower want to cum?” He asks, “Yes!” You cry, wanting so badly to reach the edge. You appreciate when Sukuna teases you, because your orgasms are much more powerful when he prolongs them. 

Sukuna reaches down to massage your clit. Your cute thighs are shaking a bit from how close you're getting. You adore him, you adore all of him and you're just glad he's here to worship your body and take care of you. You wish you were stronger so you could take care of him too. But you realize that you already do. You take care of him by being open and vulnerable, by showing your love for him and by being loyal. If being in love with the enemy makes you a bad person, then so be it. 

Sukuna is worth it.

He takes a bite of your collarbone and you finally cum around his cock. A few more thrusts and Sukuna finishes inside you. You love the way the hot spurts of cum coat your womb. 

“Fuck! Are you alright, my love?” Sukuna says, taking your tired arm that's resting on your stomach and kissing your fingers. “I wasn't too rough now, was I?” You love the way that he sounds concerned. You would have never expected to hear something like that coming from Sukuna, the almighty King of Curses. You admit he's turning soft. 

You taught him how to love. He loves you because you helped him open his heart to you, and that realization makes you feel strong, as if you alone were able to gain the love of a man who never knew love at all. 

“I'm alright, my king. Just…tired.” You reassure him. Sukuna chuckles as he lays on the bed, moving your body so you can lay your head on his large body. You choose to rest your head on the juncture of his shoulder. 

“We should get Uraume to prepare us a bath soon.” 

“I just want to lay here with you.” 

Sukuna chuckles. His poor baby is burnt out from all the love making and duties you had to fulfill for the day, so he'll let you rest for a bit before you take a bath with him. He comforts you as he strokes your naked back, just appreciating the feel of your body resting against his. 

“‘Kuna?” 

“Yes, my love?” 

“...I love you.” 

It doesn't hurt Sukuna when you say it. It's the opposite, really. Your love feels like a breath of fresh air. It's healing to him. He's so lucky to have a woman like you by his side. 

“I love you too, my sweet.” 

He means it. 

ᡣ𐭩 Choso x fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 cunningulus

One thing Choso always makes sure to do is worship you. He loves you deeply and one way he likes to show it, is through actions. He loves to take his time with you when you are particularly tired to have sex, and he doesn’t want you to move even a single finger, letting him do everything.

He finds you laying on your stomach in bed and his eyes scans down your body, especially at the way the short nightdress clings to your body. He slowly walks closer to the bed, his gaze trailing down your legs and your soft skin that he can’t wait to touch. He hovers above you, softly leaving kisses all over your bare shoulders and neck, before kissing your cheek as you keep your eyes closed. When you ask him what he is doing, he will simply tell you that he wants to take care of you.

He positions himself between your legs and leans down to kiss your ankles, calves and back of your thighs where he reaches the hem of your nightdress. He glances up at you and, with a soft voice, he asks you, “can I remove your dress, baby?”.

And how can you tell him no. So you nod, and he thanks you as he raises the dress slowly, whining at the sight of your drenched cunt under it and your perfect ass. He leaves teasing kisses there before following the raising dress with his lips.

You help him remove it and, when you are left naked under him, Choso can’t help but palm his cock in his pants, already stiff and leaking just from the sight of you. He leans down, his hands moving to your hips and massaging your skin gently while he leaves kisses against the back of your thighs, slowly making his way up.

Sometimes, a “you’re so beautiful” or “i love you so much” leave his lips because he can’t help but praise you anytime he is close to you. He gently spreads your legs apart and smiles when he hears your giggle and sees you squirming slightly because he accidentally tickled you.

He licks his lips at the sight of your wet folds waiting for him. He kisses your ass, spreading your buttocks to reach your cunt better. He moans softly at the smell of you and you hear the bed moving slightly because Choso is rutting against the mattress, turned on by you.

He praises you as he leans down to lick and slurp your juices, exploring your folds and making sure to give your little bud attention. But he wants to make the moment last, so he pulls away reluctantly, and kisses his way up your back, his hands following him.

He makes you turn around and when you look up, you see his half lidded eyes full of desire and tenderness looking down at you. He eagerly meets your lips when you pull him down, and lets your tongues meet sloppily. He is soft with you, and touches you as if you were pure porcelain under his cure. Even during the kiss, his hand gently cup your face, moaning softly at the sweet taste your mouth has.

Then he starts over again. He kisses his way up from your feet, until he reaches your soft inner thighs. He spreads your legs wide and you giggle softly at the sensation of his breath hitting your skin. His gaze is fixed on your pussy and the way it beckons him to get closer, get a taste. He nudges his nose against your folds, groaning before he properly licks a stripe up, kissing your cunt shortly after.

He revels in the moans you let out, thinking that there isn’t anything better than that sound. If he could keep you like this forever, he thinks he would. Because for him, there is nothing better than have you relaxed and happy while he takes care of you.

And he doesn’t really care that his cock is hard against his pants, because he wants to take care of you, and he can wait a little bit more. So he happily makes out with your wet pussy, his hands moving to the back of your knees and pushing them against your chest, blocking you under him. Choso is messy and even if you complain, he doesn’t stop.

Your juices combined with his spit dribble down your asshole, but Choso is quick to lick it away too, making sure than when he is done, you’re all clean. He lowers your legs when you complain that you can’t take it anymore because in these moments he wants to make you feel good and relax, not overstimulate you. He leaves one last kiss to your swollen pussy, and kisses up your navel and stomach, getting ready to give your breasts the well deserved attention.

When you look down at him, you have to suppress a smile at the sight of his fucked out face, his eyes soft and completely lost in the sight of you. He is bewitched from you and the only thing he can think about is worshipping you. Worshipping you as if you were his goddess.

You caress his hair as he wraps his lips around your nipple, whining when he can’t give the same attention to the other. So he switches nipple and closes his eyes while he sucks on it. His hands palm lazily at your tits and you observe how he relaxes on top of you, sloppily grinding his covered cock against your thigh.

Your nipples are stiff and swollen when Choso is done with them and, when you glance at his face, his eyes are half lidded and fixed on your face, a blissful expression on his.

He loves to worship you and make you feel loved, so when he is done, you’re almost asleep from the way he gently took care of you. You can see in his enraptured expression that he enjoys doing this, so whenever you’re tired, you patiently wait for him to fulfill his desires to worship you.

(m.list)

++ 𝐘𝐔𝐉𝐈/𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

[summary] sukuna wants to bone you and he makes it yuji’s problem.

[cws] fem reader. masturbation -> yuji. sukuna has vivid fantasies about reader v.v

Yuji thinks you’re a nice girl.

You’re funny, cute, sweet, and you’ve put him on his ass a few times during training and left him thoroughly impressed.

But he doesn’t like you … like, like you like you.

You’re cool to hang out with, play games with, train with, and sometimes he prefers you over Megumi when he’s thinking of getting up to some mischief—all in all, you’re a good friend, but that’s all he sees you as, a friend, and he’s sure you feel the same about him.

…

So why can’t he stop fisting his cock to thoughts of you? Because of that damned curse taking up residence inside of him — the dirty pervert.

Sukuna’s got a thing for you, a nasty thing that puts lewd images in Yuji’s mind and makes his hands and cock ache to touch you. And Yuji doesn’t want to think about these things, no! He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look on your knees, teary eyes looking up at him as your lips stretch wide around his cock. He doesn’t want to think about how you’d look knuckle deep in your pussy, back arched and toes pointed as you fucked yourself. He doesn’t want to think about how tight and warm and soft and perfect your cunt would feel wrapped around him, no, he doesn’t want to think about any of those things!

But that’s all Sukuna thinks about, everyday all day - Yuji gets no reprieve.

If he sees you in the morning, your usual smile on your face as you greet him with a ‘hey, itadori!’, an image of your smiling face is flashing through his mind, except this time there’s spurts of cum on your swollen lips and your tongue is lolling out, eagerly waiting for more.

If he happens to glance over at the wrong —right, Sukuna always snarks back— moment during training and see that Maki’s got you bent in a precarious position, suddenly all he can see is images of his cock slamming in and out of your cunt, puffy lips slick and your cum coating his base, coarse hairs there weighed down with his and yours essence.

It’s sick, perverted, and he can’t do a thing about it but what he’s doing right now in the privacy of his dorm; choking back moans as he fucks his fist to the thought of you, hips bucking up off the bed as Sukuna pushes forth an image of you sat atop him, doughy thighs bracketed around his hips, fingers splayed out on his chest as you meet his thrusts.

He swears he can feel it, feel you - feel the heat of your cunt wrapping around him, feel your slick coating his shaft and dripping down to his balls, feel your nails digging into his skin as your pussy flutters and you come—

“Fuck me.” Yuji doesn’t know if that came from him or Sukuna, and he doesn’t have time to think about it before another image is flashing, this one starring you with your face pushed down into the pillows, purple nails contrasting perfectly against your skin as he spreads your cheeks open to watch your cunt swallow up his cock.

Yuji groans as his thumb, big and calloused, roughly swipes over his leaking tip, hand tightening around his base as his heels dig into his mattress. There’s a pulling feeling at his cheek, and a fierce heat envelopes him as Sukuna’s deep drawl filters out in the room.

His words are rough, quick, breathy, and Yuji desperately wishes he’d shut the hell up because he doesn’t want to think about how ‘warm your pussy is’, or how it ‘probably squeezes real tight when you come’, or how your ‘tits bounce when you’re getting fucked’, or how you’ll probably ‘squeal, moan and cry like some bitch in heat when he plays with your little clit’—you’re his friend, and he yours, and it’s so fucking wrong to be thinking of you like this, and it’s all because of him.

The next and final image is a quick flash, no more than a second or two, and Yuji snaps his eyes shut as his teeth grind together, veins along the backs of his hand bulging as his cock twitches in his grip. Ah.

Your thighs are spread, gapped open and limp against the ruined sheets, while two of his fingers spread your lips open, a white gush of cum dripping out of your stretched hole and trailing down between your ass cheeks.

Yuji shudders, eyes slowly blinking open to see the mess he’s made on his stomach and chest, and he lets out a weak groan as he turns to bury his sweaty face into his pillow, already dreading the next onslaught of images that’re sure to bombard him soon.

What is Sukuna's love language?

Good question. Sukuna doesn't love you. Or at least that's what he tells you.

But the mere fact you've lived this long in his presence without having your face sliced is enough proof. He says it's just because he's not bored of you yet.

Then again, he finds it strangely warm when your annoying ass is on his lap and your stupid face is nuzzled into his neck. He's mad that a weak thing like you, who should be scared shitless of him is clinging onto him like a little brat, and finding her comfort. You're so stupid, but it makes him even more mad when he sees your stupid smile and can't bring himself to push you off.

And of course there's your ridiculous nicknames. It's beyond him how you have the guts to call him "kuna" and "suku" and whatnot. He doesn't even know why he allows it. And don't you dare bring up the smile his lips twitch into when you call him those idiotic names. It's not like he loves you or something—

He doesn't love you. Nope. You're dumb if you think the warm blanket you're wrapped into is his doing. Sukuna doesn't even need a blanket to be warm. But when he sees you sleeping uncomfortably on a cold night, he says, "Tch. What a stupid brat." And there's a warm blanket on the bed the next night. But don't you bring that up.

And no, he doesn't kill people who look at you. Totally not. The male servants keep disappearing, but it's definitely not his doing, okay? You're just a silly brat. The very pretty kimonos left in your chambers by the servants aren't because he wanted to, okay? He simply says its because you have no sense of clothing.

Not like his eyes never leave you when you twirl in your new pretty kimono as you try it on.

He also insists that 'he can't stand ugly brats'. So maybe that explains why your drawers are filled with jewellery.

It never happened that the concubine who told you you're nothing special didn't disappear the very next hour after he heard your soft cries. You don't ask him why there's stains of red on his kimono. You know exactly why.

And its not like he brushes stray strands of your hair from your sleeping face and kisses your head. You were just dreaming, okay? Stop being ridiculous. And it's definitely not like he gets super passive-aggressive when you're not coddling him. Don't be a stupid brat.

You knitted for him a very silly black scarf once. Its now an essential part of his daily wear. He totally doesn't like the cute smile on your face and the light in your eyes when you see him wear it.

So stop being stupid, okay? Just because he does things for you that he'd never even think of doing for anyone, and would literally burn down the world and slaughter people in case something happens to you, or barely ever let's you out of his sight, is not because he loves you or something!

exboyfriend!Sukuna x f!reader.

cw: smut, outdoor sex, angst, controlling behavior.

Your date was a disappointment.

The guy wasn't an asshole or anything, but at some point he'd talked about cryptocurrency for ten minutes straight without you saying a word and there was no coming back from that.

"I had a great time," he tells you as you stand on the subway platform after finally escaping the restaurant. You nod noncommittally and wonder if this is the part where he asks for your number. You're calculating the risk/reward of giving him a fake number and having him potentially call it while you're still right in front of him when you hear a familiar laugh from behind you.

"I doubt it," the voice says and you close your eyes. Maybe if you wish hard enough you can develop teleportation and not have to deal with this.

"I'm sorry, who are you?" your date asks, his voice only wavering a little as he looks at your ex-boyfriend. Honestly, you admire him. The sight of the tall, heavily tattooed (alleged) criminal was usually enough to make people cross the street to avoid him but not this accountant? Investment baker? Dentist? Fuck, he'd talked about his job for thirty minutes and you had not been listening. You would have guilty if you weren't actively judging him for not even noticing your lack of engagement.

Whatever, he probably wasn't brave, he was probably just an idiot.

Sukuna seemed to agree as he laughed again and put his hand on your shoulder.

"I'm her boyfriend."

Your date looked at him, looked at you, and seemed to be weighing if this was worth one mediocre date. He seemed frozen for a second until Sukuna took a step forward and the guy's previously dormant survival instincts seemed to awaken and he booked it down the train platform.

Once he was out of sight, you took Sukuna's hand and dropped it off your shoulder like a fallen leaf that had got stuck on your jacket.

"Are you following me, now?" You wouldn't have put it past him. You turn to face your ex who looks not only unrepentant for his little routine but vindicated. Or maybe he just looks vindictive, you can never tell.

"Are you going on dates with any loser that asks?" He tosses back and you roll your eyes.

"You didn't even meet him."

"So, he wasn't a loser? And you weren't deciding if it was worth giving him a fake number and having him call you right then?"

You hated that he knew you so well.

"He seemed the type to call," you concede and Sukuna scoffs.

"Absolutely, that fucker is. Women have been giving that dumb fuck fake numbers since he was begging for them with his little Nokia flip phone."

"Is Nokia still a thing?" you ask and Sukuna glares at you.

"Do I look like Google to you? Hey, don't try to district me, princess. We were talking about how you seem to have gotten it into your mind that you can cheat on me with any guy with a pulse."

"I'm not cheating on, we're not together," you tell him as your train pulls up. You don't bother protesting as he follows you on it, even though you know the old apartment you used to share is in the other direction from your new place.

"The fuck we're not," he seethes. The other riders look at you and you see one or two guys deciding if it's worth trying to get involved but you're more concerned about the teenage girl who looks ready to fight this asshole for you. God, you loved women.

"You're making a scene," you tell him and he looks ready to make the scene Oscar worthy before you give him the look that used to make him not call your friends' babies ugly when you went to birthday parties.

"Where can we talk then?"

"I'm not taking you to my place," you say and he sucks his teeth.

"Then let's go home."

"You mean to your home."

Sukuna looks furious but you're not in the mood. You had just spent the past two hours on a terrible date, which made you think about how dating was just going to be like this until you found a new boyfriend or gave up, which then made you think about your break up and how up until a few months ago, you thought you would never go on a first date with anyone ever again.

You hated that Sukuna had put you here and you hated that you still loved him.

"I'm not leaving until we talk about this."

"There's nothing to talk about."

You're so tired, Sukuna is so close and it's been so long since you got to smell him or feel his warmth. Your apartment was still barely furnished but everything in it was new and it still didn't feel like home. The one sweatshirt of his you'd let yourself take had stopped carrying his scent weeks ago, and just being close to him now, it made something in you relax. Like you were finally home.

"There fucking is," he hisses and now he's so close you can make out the scar on his jaw and the fullness of his lips. You used to tease him that you'd never met a man whose lips were as soft as his. He may have looked like tough shit, but you would never catch him out of the house without lotion and chapstick.

You wondered if he was still using the cherry chapstick you had bought him at the grocery store the week before you'd broken up.

"Are you going to marry me? Are you going to give me a baby?"

"Princess-"

"Then there's nothing to talk about," you say and you thank whoever's watching that the train is pulling up to your stop. You get off and Sukuna is right on your heels.

"You don't even want those things right now, why the fuck does it even matter?"

"I want them eventually and if you're not willing to give them to me, then I just don't think I need to keep wasting my time."

You're roughly dragged into a nearby alley and tossed against a brick wall. Sukuna's hand cups the back of your head, taking the force of the slam and you hate that he watches out for you even when he's being a controlling jackass.

"Being with me is wasting your time? Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Not your girlfriend," you snap back. "Let go, I want to go home."

"Fuck you," he tells you and you're about ready to fight him, grown scary man or not when he leans down and his lips are on yours.

They taste like cherry chapstick.

His hand on the back of your head tightens, his thumb pressing against your neck and making you shiver. His other hand is pressed tight to your jaw and when you gasp against his mouth, he presses down as if he can hold you open and consume you so you can't leave him again.

His muscled thigh is in between yours and you can feel the rough texture of his jeans, the same pair he wore to work, the same pair you'd put through the washing machine a thousand times, rub against where your legs are only covered in tights. The shorter than usual skirt meant to entice your date, and instead it was being taken advantage of by your ex-boyfriend.

Sukuna let go of your face so he could put his hand underneath the fabric of your skirt.

"New outfit?" He teases as his hand slides to the top of your tights.

"Got it for my date," you snap and he growls at you before he rips the seams of your tights. Before you can complain, he's dragging them down your thighs and diving into your panties so he can get to your cunt. The underwear is new too and a pained noise leaves you at the sensation of them snapping against your inner thigh, both at the pain and the thought of how much they cost.

"I still have those blue ones you like at home, the ones you wore for my birthday last year," he tells you as he slides his finger down the seam of your cunt. You're wet and it annoys you because orgasming has been a bitch to achieve since you had to start giving them to yourself again.

"You can keep them," you tell him and he bites your lower lip between his teeth, they'd always felt too sharp for a man and you know you're a twitch or a less than playful nibble away from a busted lip.

"They're not really up for wearing anymore anyway."

You want to ask him what he means by that as he kisses down your neck and thrusts one finger into you, the slide almost unholy.

"So fucking wet, your cunt was always better at talking than you were."

The sensation of being filled even though it's not enough it's not enough begins to itch at your need to be satisfied as your mind fills in the gaps of his previous words.

You can imagine Sukuna in the bed you used to share, the dark blue sheets and the comforter covered in a black pattern that had reminded you of the marks that covered his body. One hand holding your favorite pair of panties and the other his big cock, that sometimes you missed even more than him.

Did he use the panties to jerk off with, the fabric just an expensive tissue for his cum? Did he hold them to his nose and pretend he could still smell your pussy on them in the bed that used to smell like both of you? You had tried watching porn and reading smut, the stuff you had relied on before you were together, and nothing compared to what it felt like to come from his fingers, his tongue, his cock.

The only times you had touched yourself when you were together were when Sukuna had wanted to watch, his commentary pushing you to the edge. He had always known what to say.

Good girl, now try two fingers for me. Not enough? Do you need my cock? Fucking slutty princess, eh?

No matter how demeaning his words were, you had never felt true shame because his desire for you was always apparent. Sukuna never held back praise where he felt it was deserved, and he had always been quick to let you know that what you were doing was pleasing him.

"Pay attention to me, princess. I'd hate to think I was boring you." The words are laced with cruelty and the added pressure of a second figure is harsh, too soon, and still not enough.

The hand in your hair tightens, but the grip still careful not to mess it up beyond repair. Something you'd been adamant about in the beginning days of your relationship. The gentleness of it, of him, makes you cry out.

Since Sukuna was the only one who still seemed cognizant of how you were in an alley, only a right turn from being on a public sidewalk, he was quick to catch your moan in his mouth. Nearly purring in reply, a ridiculous thing for a ridiculous man to do.

"Fuck, that's it. No one else can make you feel like this, this cunt is fucking mine."

"Yes," you hiss out in agreement. Pleased with your concession, Sukuna's thumb swipes over your clit as he continues his punishing rhythm with his fingers. You can hear how wet you are as it echoes off the brick around you. Even though it's cold outside, you feel almost too hot between the warmth of his body shielding yours from the world around you and the heat that's continuing to build up in your core.

"So close, I know you are. Beg me, princess and I might let you come," he whispers in your ear and you would feel embarrassed of the whine you let out if you weren't so close.

"Please, Sukuna. Please, let me come!"

"I don't know. Not sure if I should reward you since you've apparently being going around giving this pussy to fucking anyone."

You shake your head. "No, I haven't slept with anyone since we broke up."

Sukuna kisses you so hard, you're grateful for the hand behind your head because you know his knuckles must be bruised from the force he kisses you with. Sukuna pulls back, a string of saliva connecting his lips to yours and you hate that you find that hot. That this whole thing is hot.

For a second, the softness in his eyes takes your breath away and you almost forget about where you are and what you're doing and why it's the worst idea you've ever had. He's just Sukuna, the love of your life and you miss him so much.

You think he might say something crazy like he loves you or even propose but then the softness is gone and he just grins at you.

"Alright, come then, you've earned it."

With permission granted, Sukuna focuses his attention on your clit in just that way you like in the way that only someone who's done this hundreds of times could do. He's definitely leaving hickies around your collarbone and neck, but for now they feel good and when you come, you bite your lip knowing it will be bruised. A reminder of how you're an idiot when you look at it in the mirror tomorrow.

Still soft with your orgasm, you reach down to return the favor but Sukuna grabs your hand.

"I'm not walking around with cum in my jeans," he tells you, kissing your palm. Typical of him, to end something crass with something sweet. You sigh as he puts you back down on the ground. You pull up what remains of your tights, the fabric uncomfortable on your quickly drying thighs. Your ripped panties lie on the ground and Sukuna looks at them forlornly before shaking his head, dirty alleyway panties apparently being too much even for him.

Sukuna grabs the bag you'd dropped when he'd kissed you and gestures for you to exit the alley. A few passersby give you strange looks but you figure if you were going to be arrested for public indecency, it would have happened already.

"I guess we're going to mine," you say. "I live like another two blocks this way."

"I know," Sukuna says already heading that way.

You blow a piece of hair out of your eye. "Of course you do."

When Sukuna actually types in the passcode to your building you almost lose it, but you're tired and honestly you had kind of expected to just come home to him already in your apartment at some point. Sukuna had never been great at respecting boundaries. Or the law.

You unlock the door to your apartment, it takes everything in you not to ask if he already has a key. You don't want to know. He follows you in and the two of you sit at the dingy two person table you have set up by one of the only windows.

"Cozy."

"Fuck you." He smirks in that way that has always made you want to punch him and you're reminded that you're currently wearing shredded tights.

"Sukuna, you wanted to talk. So talk."

The smirk leaves his face and he looks at his nails, pressing his thumb against the one on his pointer finger and then looking through the 'o' formed there. "You left."

"I did."

He looks at you. "Why?"

"You know why," you say, tired again.

"Sure, you want to get married at some point. You want a baby at some point. I don't see what that has to do with us, right now."

"Because right now leads to that some point. It doesn't just happen. There are things I want, that are important to me. If they're not important to you, then I need to find someone who has the same priorities as me."

"Because I'm not your priority," he says and this is the rehash of an argument you'd had a thousand times. Sukuna was selfish and possessiveness and while that had always granted you a certain security, it had also been a chain you'd constantly worn around your ankle. You weren't going to defend your time at work or with friends to your boyfriend. That belonged to a different time, to different women and it had been a nonnegotiable early in your relationship that he figure that shit out with himself.

"Sukuna, I love you but I'm not going to give up what I want for my future because you don't want it. You don't have to want it, in fact I appreciate that you've been honest about it-"

"So appreciative, you left me," the words are almost snarled and you sigh.

"That's not fair. You can't be mad I want something else, the same way I'm not mad that you want something else. It's not a character flaw to not want to get married, or to not what kids. It just means you have a person out there for you who shares that view. Because it's not me."

"Why can't it be enough to just have a life with the two of us?"

"It's not about whether or it's enough, it's about me wanting something else."

There's a pause. Sukuna claws at the dents already in your battered table and deepens the grooves as you try not to flinch at the sound of his nails bearing down on wood.

Finally, he responds. "You know, I spent my childhood, my teens and a lot of adulthood raising Yuuji because our piece of shit parents couldn't be bothered and let me tell you. It's fucking hard. It is constant and they need so much for you. I didn't do anything but work and watch him for almost two decades and I don't want to do that again. I want my own life."

"I understand," you tell him. "That was a lot, even if you did a great thing by taking him in."

"It wasn't because I was nice. You seem to be forgetting that I'm a murderer. And you want me to fucking watch Bluey with some brat."

"You may not be nice but you do right by the people you care about. I also don't think you've murdered a baby, it would probably be okay."

"That's more incidental than a conscience choice," he says and you know he has to hear how ridiculous he sounds.

"Alright. I respect your decision but for what it's worth, we're not kids anymore and you wouldn't be doing this alone. I think Yuuji turned out pretty great because he had you, and I think any kid of our would be lucky to have you as a dad."

"You would really do all that with me," he says and his voice is as close to wonderous as you've ever heard it. "You really are a lost cause."

You try not to react, remind yourself that this is always how Sukuna responds to affection. He'd laughed at you the first time you'd told him you loved him. You'd punched him and broken your hand on his chin. He'd told you he loved you in the ER as the attendant resetting your hand looked on in horror.

"I think that's enough for today. Thanks for stopping by and for the orgasm, appreciate it," you say, rising from the chair. You walk the short trip to your door and open it. "Hope you have a safe trip home."

Sukuna stays seated. "That's it?"

"Yeah, Sukuna, that's it."

"And if I said I could do this, I could give you those things."

You think about it and look him over. How his hands twitch as if only his ego is preventing them from clenching. The clear trauma that was informing his previous stance.

"I'd say take some time and maybe talk to someone. I don't want to do this with someone who can just bring themselves to bear it. I want them to be as excited as me."

"That's asking for a lot from a guy."

"But someone will do it." Sukuna looks angry again and when he steps in your space, you push him gently away with your hand. He goes to hold it and even the familiar scrape of his calluses against your skin can't make you waver.

"Bye, Sukuna."

Sukuna looks at you, waiting for you to give in you know but you won't.

He leaves without another word.

When the door to the stairwell slams shut, you finally let yourself cry.

----------

It's been a month since you've seen Sukuna and you're on another date.

The guy is unoffensive. He gave you a hug when you met up and he'd made a joke about the plethora of other couples at the restaurant. You two started playing a game where you tried to guess how many dates each couple had been on?

"Three, she's finally figured out she can't put up with how he chews no matter how nicely coiffed his hair is," your date says as you take another sip of your drink.

"That's a second date, his chewing is a commit or quit type of deal and she looks ready to go. Bet they didn't eat together on their first date."

"Is he telling the plot to Dune, he has not stopped talking since we sat down," he says and you giggle despite yourself.

You've just started on the couple both looking determinedly at their phones by the window when your phone rings.

"Sorry, I need to take this," you say and he smiles.

"No worries, I'll let you know how many times she misses her mouth while looking at her phone."

You wave as you go to stand outside. You take a deep breath and then answer.

"Hey."

"Hey, princess. Bad time?"

"No, just, what do you want?"

"Well, I'm planning this first date with this girl and I'm having trouble figuring out how to explain something."

You want to throw up, what kind of test is this?

"What do you want to say?"

"Well, I've heard that it's important to be straightforward with your intentions, so you don't waste anyone's time."

"And what are your intentions?" You manage to spit out and he laughs, his smugness almost seeping out the phone.

"Well not anytime soon, but eventually I think I'd like a little brat. You know, prove to Yuuji that he wasn't a fluke."

You heart is pounding and you hate him. You love him.

"Uh huh."

"And I guess it would probably be easier to do that if we just got married. You know, taxes, healthcare, I still don't have healthcare but my wife will and I've heard you can add people to that."

"This proposal is the fucking worst one I've ever heard," you say, trying to ignore the fact you are now crying in front of a restaurant. People walk by giving you pitying looks, probably think you got stood up.

"It's not a proposal, it's a framing of intent."

"Why do you talk like such an old man, we are almost the same age?"

"Why do you talk like such a brat?"

"You know-"

"Probably," he says and you laugh despite yourself.

"So when is this date?"

"Tonight," he says. "You can wear that dress you're wearing, it looks perfect on you."

"Are you fucking here, you creep?"

"That's no way to talk to your future husband and no. That place is a shithole, I'm at our usual."

"Good, I've missed it. No one makes my drink the way I like it," you tell him and he hums.

"Well, it will be waiting for you when you get here. So get here soon."

"Alright, I'll see you soon."

Sukuna hangs up and you stand there. There's a perfectly nice guy inside. One who makes you laugh and who maybe one day you could grow to love.

But there's another guy across town who is sitting at your favorite restaurant, ordering your favorite drink. His lips taste like the organic chapstick, he claims to be too tacky to be worth wearing but keeps it in his pocket anyway. He built all your furniture and let you paint your bathroom green even though you live in a rental. He's held your hair back when you were sick and cleaned it up even as he bitched at you for the mess and done a rather cruel impression of you retching.

There's another guy that you love.

So you go back into the restaurant to tell your perfectly nice date that something has come up.

Maybe you're a fool, but what else could you do?

Maybe this will be a series, idk. Being an adult is weird. This is def ooc but you know, let me work through things and call them fiction. That's what this account is for.

Masterlist

Started: 1/16/24

Updated: 2/26/24

Works: 18

*marks smut

JJK

Sukuna x reader

friendswithbenefits!Sukuna x reader series(in plot order)

we're not even dating!

you go on a date with someone else*

singlemom!reader x neighbor!Sukuna series(in plot order)

the first meeting

aquarium date

pipe burst, new home?

pipe burst, new home?(reader POV)

Sukuna picks up your daughter from daycare

Sukuna finds a pair of your panties and is...normal about it*

You go apartment hunting and Sukuna is 'helpful'

Sukuna suffers from your sexual tension, his lowkey (highkey) baby fever and the drudgery of a child's birthday party

the finale: dramatic confessions and pinky swears*

Extra: Valentine's Day

singledad!Sukuna x neighbor!reader series(in plot order)

Gaslight. Gatekeep. Girlboss.

Sukuna and Yuuji gaslight you into a family day at the park

One-Shots

A one night stand with your best friend's brother leaves you pregnant.*

exboyfriend!Sukuna x reader*

Nanami x reader

Drabbles

Nanami is Your Best Friend But Wants More

One-Shots

Breeding Kink but Nanami Makes it Wholesome*

call me baby

pairing: choso x reader

contains: fem reader, pussy rubbing, panty-fucking, cream pie, dirty talk, sensitive!Choso

note: someone sent an ask for this w/ gojo or geto… but i couldn’t stop thinking abt it w/ choso…

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

"What should I do?" You asked Choso quietly as he slid his large thighs under yours, gripping the fat of your thighs to pull you closer to him so his erect cock was pressed right against your clothed cunt, only clad in your panties, which had started to become sheer where your hole was pressed against it from how much you were leaking. 

"Just... lay there and don't move, let me do all the work," Choso said, a blush spread across his porcelain face as his eyes stayed trained on your cunt which pulsed and throbbed under his gaze. "The girl in the video sounded like this felt good for her, let me know otherwise please." He added, his eyes flitting up to yours so he could see you nod in acknowledgment at his words.

Once Choso saw you nod, he dropped his gaze back down to your cunt. He grabbed the base of his dripping cock in one hand and pressed it against your clothed cunt, rubbing the head of his leaky dick up and down your pussy. Your stomach clenched each time he rubbed the fat tip against your clit, the stimulation making your toes curl.

Choso kept looking up at your expression to gauge whether or not this was feeling good for you. He licked his lips as he watched you stare where the two of you were connected with a slack jaw, your lips making a pretty o shape as you stared at his thick cock rubbing against you.

"I can feel how wet you are through your panties, it's so cute," Choso mumbled, his voice coming out less confident than he would've liked. You swallowed hard, feeling your face suddenly grow hotter at his words. "You're dripping too y'know... that's not all me." You said, your face screwing in pleasure when he pressed his fat tip harder against you, pushing it right under your clit.

Choso blushed deeper, his cock twitching at your words. "You're right, I just like doing this with you so much." He said honestly, giving himself a couple of quick strokes along his shaft to calm himself down. You smiled at that, your hand reaching down to place itself over his, which gripped your upper thigh in support. "I like doing this with you too Cho." You replied, tilting your head at him.

Choso moved his hand down his cock so he was gripping his length about halfway. He pressed his cock against your clit and started thrusting against you, wetting the already wet spot there even more. He used his hand like a pocket pussy as he thrust into it, making sure each time he thrust forward against you that his head was pressing right against your clit.

"Does that feel good?" Choso asked, his eyes looking up to your face for approval. You gasped and whined quietly each time his bulbous head pressed against your clit, stimulating it just right. "Y-yeah, keep going, Cho." You nodded, retracting your hand from his to join the other and slide underneath your shirt to massage your tits.

Choso pouted at your blissful expression as he took in your words, all the while he kept rubbing his cock along your pussy, further wetting your panties and making them almost completely sheer. "Good." Choso nodded back, swallowing whatever saliva was in his dry mouth before he looked back down to your cunt. Choso then pulled your sticky panties away from your pussy, revealing a sliver of your bare folds to his greedy eyes before he slipped his cock against you and covered his tip with your panties.

He testingly rubbed his cock along your wet folds, the head of his cock brushing past your clit and poking through your panties right above it, the pink material of your panties that was covering his cock making it look so cute. "So warm..." Choso whispered, choked gasped and moans falling from his lips as he slowly thrust his cock back and forth along your pussy, letting the folds of your cunt hug the underside of his dick.

He placed both of his hands on your thighs and pelvis, his hands almost forming a triangle in the middle as he used his thumbs to press his cock against your pussy, letting him pick up his pace now that he had his cock secured by his thumbs to make sure the head of his cock would rub your stiff bud no matter how fast he went. 

"C-choso-" You gasped, a little louder now as he rubbed against you with more vigor. You squeezed your tits under your shirt, your lithe fingers playing with the stiff nipples for extra stimulation as your body shook and slid along the bed with each thrust. "Let me see." He said vaguely, his eyebrows furrowing as he fucked his cock against your pussy. You tilted your head at him, confused at what he was referring to.

"Y-you're playing with your chest. I want to see, can I?" Choso elaborated, his honest words making you feel hot all over. You nodded before releasing your breasts, your hand slipping out under the shirt to push it over your chest, the fabric bundling by your collarbones as your tits were revealed to his greedy eyes.

"So pretty, touch them again, I wanna watch you touch them," Choso begged, his words coming out more desperate the longer he rubbed his cock against your folds. This felt so much better than he expected. The man in the video was silent so he wasn't sure how good it would feel for him but now that he was actually doing it, he had no idea how he stayed so quiet. Choso was a gasping and groaning mess, much unlike the man in the video--his cock was always quite sensitive though. 

Obeying his wish, you grabbed your tits once more, massaging them in your hands as you alternated between pinching your nipples and squeezing the fat of them together. Choso's brain nearly short-circuited as he watched the fat of your tits squish between your fingers--he wished so badly he was the one touching them instead. "God, they're so pretty, I love your tits." Choso groaned, his thrusts against your cunt becoming more erratic, making your body jerk forward from the intense stimulation. 

"F-fuck, t-thank you, baby." You whined, your hips absentmindedly bucking against his. Choso felt all of the blood run to his cock at the nickname, he swore his heart skipped a beat. "B-baby?" Choso repeated, his eyes flitting between your cunt, which was now meeting his thrusts, and your face, which was screwed in pleasure from his doing. 

"Yeah, I called you baby, is that okay?" You asked, smiling at the way he pouted when you repeated the pet name. Choso nodded, his lips pressing together and folding in on themselves as his head tipped back, revealing the muscles in his neck. "I-I think it's going to make me cum." Choso groaned, his eyes rolling back in his head as his head was tipped back. 

"A-ah- what is?" You asked through a moan when the two of you fell into the perfect pace, your hips humping upwards each time he thrust against you, his leaky head rubbing your clit perfectly. "That name, I like when you call me that." He answered, his chin falling back down as his eyes locked onto your cunt and your hips that were eagerly meeting his thrusts as you worked yourselves towards your orgasms. 

"You're so cute Choso." You smiled, the expression quickly getting wiped off your face as he hit a particularly sensitive spot, your orgasm building steadily in your pelvis. "I-it's not just that. You're so warm, and wet, and your face is so cute when my dick touches you right here." Choso said, emphasizing his words with a stronger thrust against your clit. 

"And you sound s-so cute, y-you're gonna make me cum." He said, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You were whining at his words, your eyes fluttering back in your head as you let his wet cock work you over perfectly. Your hands squeezed your tits harder to stabilize yourself as you felt yourself right on the edge of your orgasm. Everything was so slippery, the wetness between the two of you had completely ruined your panties, and they were soaked through from your fluids.

"G-god Choso, I-i'm close." You whined, your eyes fluttering back in your head as your head tipped back against the sheets, rolling around as you braced yourself for such an intense orgasm. "M-me too, fuck me too." He chimed in as he forced his eyes to stay forward in their sockets so he wouldn't miss a thing, he needed to see your face when you came. 

"I-inside baby, cum inside please, I need it." You begged as something came over you last second. You think you might die if he didn't fill you up right now. Choso's dick twitched at the name, he wanted to ask if you were sure but the use of the pet name shortened the time before he was about to cum in half, so he trusted your words as he heard them.

"O-okay, shit, I'm gonna cum inside you." Choso groaned, his head nodding rapidly at your words. He pressed his thumbs down against his cock, the appendage sliding down your cunt and finding your entrance as it slipped in with ease, thanks to how wet the both of you were. Choso's thumb replaced his cock as he rubbed small circles over it as he quickly started a sloppy pace and fucked into your heat with reckless abandon, his tip hitting your g-spot with every thrust and effectively pushing you over the edge.

Your hand shot down to the sides of your body as your fingers gripped the sheets tightly. Choso watched as your eyes screwed shut and your mouth fell open in a silent scream before you were spasming all over his cock. "Shit- so tight-" he moaned as he felt your walls squeeze around him ten times tighter as you came.  

You looked so cute, your face screwed in pleasure, your body jerking uncontrollably, the feeling of your cum dripping out around his cock that was plugging you up. Your moans were like music to his ears, his cock pulsed with the need for his release before he was stilling inside you, his thumb still working sloppily over your clit as he continued to work you through your orgasm as he came.

"Cumming- fuck- c-cumming-" Choso groaned as he released rope after rope into your already sopping wet cunt. You whined in oversensitivity as he continued to roll his hips against yours, fucking you full of his cum. The veins in Choso's neck bulged out as he came with such intensity, his cock throbbing as he filled you to the brim with his seed. "Fuck, thank you, baby, thank you." You whined weakly, gasping against the sheets as Choso rode out the last waves of his orgasm inside your cunt, letting your walls milk him of all he was worth.

Choso flopped forward, keeping his softening cock inside you as he laid all of his body weight on top of you. You groaned dramatically as he semi-crushed you with the weight of his very muscly body, but the feeling of the warmth from his skin seeping into yours prevented you from saying anything. Your hands reached up to wrap around his back, your nails softly scratching along his soft skin as he groaned into your neck in appreciation, trying to recover after such an intense orgasm.

"Was that okay for you..." Choso had the audacity to ask as he buried his head in your neck, his warm breath tickling the skin of your neck when he spoke. "That was perfect Choso, you always make me feel so good," you said, holding back a giggle as you continued raking your nails over his skin. "We should probably clean up soon though." You added after a couple of seconds.

"Five more minutes... this feels good," Choso mumbled, his words almost coming out incoherent from the sleepiness in his voice. Choso's love for the simplicity of things like back scratching filled you with so much love you wanted to explode. You knew 5 minutes would turn into 2 hours, but you couldn't find yourself to care much when you heard him start to practically purr into your neck.

Dad!Choso Headcanon MDNI

Papa!Choso

He definitely didn’t even think he could reproduce. Much less get you pregnant within the first year of his existence. He thought that the reproduction of curses was only something his mother could do, not a hereditary trait.

So he ran away with you. Far away to the country side of Japan. Leaving all of the chaos of what was happening in the jujutsu world behind because it wasn't his world anymore. It was you and the little life growing inside you.

You both changed your last names. Hid that you two knew or were a part of the jujutsu world. Your lives were completely turned upside down to ensure this baby had a chance. That your family had a chance.

Choso, especially, did everything he could to ensure your safety. You were not going to meet Choso's mother's same fate, and he would be damned if his children met the same fate as him and his brothers.

This was going to be different. This family was going to be his and his alone to take care of. To protect.

He was no longer “older brother” first; he was “papa” first and an older brother second. Regardless, he was still the leader of his family. Nothing was more important to him than family.

Dad!Choso is more affectionately addressed as Papa!Choso

When he got you pregnant, the only name he used to address you was "mama." Your name too when it came to more serious matters, but 90% of the time you were always "mama”.

“You feeling okay today, mama?”

“Hey mama, do you know where my hair ties are?”

“You’re glowing today, mama.”

“Fuck, you feel so good, mama.”

"Oooh, mama, let’s have another baby.”

“Fuck mama, just like that, squirt on me again.”

Pregnant!You had his mommy kink on high.

Choso is 1000% a girl dad. Never knowing a love quite as powerful as when his first daughter was born. He was hooked. He was completely devoted to the little girl in his arms, who held his entire heart.

This love resulted in five more daughters, despite the first being an absolute miracle. After his second, you and him were both sure that he was just as human as a curse, but Choso was relentless. He wanted a big family, and after you saw the way he was with your firstborn, you wanted the same thing. You had always known how wonderful a brother he was, so why would fatherhood be any different? He was perfect. Your kids were perfect, and after the 6th daughter in a row, you wanted to at least take a break from being pregnant, and Choso understood that, so naturally, your 7th child was born a year later.

A son.

Choso was the eldest brother of the cursed womb death paintings. Half human. Half curse. But when he fell in love with you and reproduced with you, his children took on a similar concept as the death paintings. All of his children were mostly humans with sorcerer abilities or maybe even curses. Who really knew? Choso's genetic makeup was as much a mystery to you as your kids were. You both were not completely sure.

Choso was no longer the eldest brother of the death paintings. He was now the father of the seven virtues.

Ren’Ai the daughter of Love

Hikaeme the daughter of Humility

Emika the daughter of Kindness

Kokumei the daughter of Diligence

Jihi the daughter of Charity

Zenshin the daughter of Temperance

Nintai the son of Patience

— ଘ(੭ ˘ ᵕ˘)━☆ﾟ.*･｡ﾟᵕ꒳ᵕ~

I do not own the rights to Choso. I do reserve the right to the idea of Choso being the father of the 7 virtues and the 7 virtues being personified and sorcerers. Please do not steal, translate, or repost. Reblogs are appreciated ♡

BlueKyo

𖤐 — nsfw, breeding kink, unprotected sex, creampie, vaginal sex, unsafe sex, belly bulge, choso w a breeding kink>>>

“Gonna give you all my babies,” Choso mutters, jolting your body with every deep thrust he continues to push into you, and you feel yourself clench at his sudden confession, growing wetter by the second.

“Yeah?” You slur, “you wanna fuck a baby into me?”

His hips shutter slightly, groaning at your dirty words, his sudden slip-up leaving his mind just as fast as he noticed it. Choso’s warm hand slowly snakes up to your stomach, stopping just below your belly button, to softly push down on the slight bulge of his cock deep within you, making you cry out at the sudden pressure.

“Right here,” he nearly whimpers, “gonna give you a baby right here.”

He’s tracing the outline of his cock through the skin of your tummy, pressing down just at the right moments, making you cry out at the pressure. You can barely breathe right, as unbearable heat rises in your stomach, pussy clenching around him even tighter, wanting nothing more than for Choso to keep good on his promises.

“Please,” you mewl, “please cum inside me.”

His hand grows harsher on your hip at the dirty words you’re spilling, and he doesn’t even bother pulling out…

I mean why would he?

masterlist

Absinthe

Vampire!Choso x reader

Warnings: nsfw/mdni. shameless smut. mentions of murder/suicide, blood and gore, slight body horror, mild predator/prey dynamic, yandere!choso. monsterfucking, biting, blood play, blood drinking, face sitting/riding, cunnilingus, semi-public sex, somnophilia mention, mildly dubious consent (the reader is into it but they're also slightly terrified, tagging it as this just in case), mild praise kink (choso calls the reader a good girl), fem reader.

Summary: when a series of violent murders plagues your sleepy town, your life is seemingly turned on its head. more and more women are being killed by the day. the possible threat of a serial killer looms over your head. you find yourself seeking comfort in your strange, but beautiful roommate

Word count: 7.6k

jjk masterlist

tagging: @naoyas90dayfiance @jujutsukuna :)

There's something weird about your roommate.

More specifically, his older brother.

When you first found this place, it almost seemed too good to be true. A three bedroom house for rent, within walking distance of your work, with rent going for dirt cheap. The one—and seemingly only—downside was that the top floor of the house was under renovations, and was barren, leaving only one working bathroom downstairs. Which you didn't mind. The owner of the house was an older woman, renting the place out to earn some extra money after the death of her husband.

In a town full of college kids, the offer was too good to pass up. Who knew when an opportunity like that would just fall into your lap again?

Though you and your roommate could cover the rent together, having a third roommate would take some stress off the two of you. Along came Itadori, a freshman at the nearby college. Yuji was a sweet kid. A little odd, but not outstandingly weird. Although ideally you wanted your third roommate to be another woman, he was nice enough, and he could pay rent on time. Yuji was the least strangest person out of everyone who applied, so not long after he was moving in.

And in the first few months, you didn't see much of him. Your work schedules are complete opposites, and he had class during the day. He always says hi to you when you run into him in the hall, and he gladly takes any leftovers you have when you cook. He’s a little dumb, but sweet, and seems to make friends with everyone he meets.

After your other roommate found a job in another city, and had to move out, you were desperate for another one. Between a college student making slightly more than minimum wage, and your job at the morgue, there was little money to spare. Plus, there was an extra room in the house. Soon, finding a new roommate became a priority.

Then along came Choso.

Choso is pleasant enough, albeit stranger than his little brother. You've met him a handful of times. Mostly on late, drunken nights where you're fumbling with the keys to your house. You can't say you know him too well. Your conversations were typically short, and always in passing. Even before he moved in, he was often over, visiting Itadori. The two are close. Yuji vouched for him, your landlord liked him well enough, and soon he was moving in.

Over the past few weeks, not much has changed in your daily routine. Your job consumed most of your time. Choso, however strange, yet oddly charming, became nothing more than background noise. He settled in rather fast. He paid his rent on time, and though he seemed to sleep at the strangest hours of the day, he was respectful, and quiet. A step above some of the previous roommates you've had.

Slowly he fell to the back of your mind.

Then it happened.

A body was found. Out in the woods behind an apartment complex. On the riverbank trail. As it's a fairly busy path, the body was discovered quickly.

The first was deemed an accident. Primarily a suicide, as the woman showed no signs of self defense, but had a boxcutter on her person.

Her body was completely drained of blood.

You've never seen anything like it.

It's an odd way to commit suicide. Women generally overdose as a method. Such a gruesome act is uncommon. As a whole, such a method is hard, as not many people are able to stab themselves in the throat in such a way. When people end up on your table, it's usually from natural causes, and the occasional car accident. Not suicide. That’s not to say it's impossible. But it's rare.

It's a big city. One near a college. People—usually students—go missing. Either of their own free will, or from drunken accidents. Murders happen, sure, but not frequently. And most are often solved within weeks. There's no rivaling gangs, or some sick serial killer on the loose.

Or so people first assumed.

The incisions on their necks are clean. Not clean enough to have been done with a scalpel, but clean. No tears. Right down to their carotid artery. Severing it completely.

Such a cut would kill any normal human in minutes. Seconds, sometimes. Blood loss would kick in and they would fall unconscious. But they show no signs of fighting back. There's no signs of a struggle at each of the crime scenes. The victims either knew their attacker, or were caught completely off guard.

But none of them knew each other. One girl wasn't even from town. There's nothing connecting the victims that keep appearing on your table, except for they are all around your age. Mid twenties. Young, but not too young. Most are freshly out of college, or are in their final years. And they’re all women.

Worst of all, where does all the blood go? Though it's rare for you to see the crime scenes itself, you’ve been shown photos. The blood is gone. If the women were killed there, there would be blood. Everywhere. But there isn't. And if the bodies were moved, there would be bruising, or dirt on the deceased. But again, there isn't. There's no sign of the bodies being moved after their time of death.

For others, this was worrying. For you, this became a typical Tuesday. If it was a murder, it’d be solved soon. But tracking down murderers isn't your job. Dealing with the dead is. Slowly you pushed these thoughts to the back of your mind.

He comes to you in the dead of sleep. Soft. Cold. Silent.

You used to find solace in being alone. You're a solitary person, finding comfort in loneliness, taking much joy in it. Often you'd make jokes that you prefer the dead over the living. But lately, you find yourself turning from your solitude. Wondering what the dark on your walk home brings. What lurks in the shadows that follow you.

His visits are fleeting. So is his touch. But in its wake it brings a cold comfort.

At first they were nightmares. Sleep paralysis. Or so you've explained it as. In the late hours of the night, bleeding into the early hours of the morning, you find yourself frozen in fear. The silhouette that lurks in the corner of your room never speaks, only watching you with cold eyes. Some days he comes to sit on the edge of your bed. You don't truly know if it's a he. But the figure much resembles a man, though you never get to see his face.

You've stopped drinking. Alcohol only makes you feel sick. And the older you get, the longer your hangovers last, and the more your anxiety spikes during them. You don't understand how Yuji can go out partying each night, and come home to get ready for classes the next morning.

The boys continue on with their daily life. Yuji goes to class. Choso goes to work.

You find comfort in being around Choso. Yuji is gone most hours of the day. Hanging out with friends, or going to classes. Choso works nights. Though his schedule seems to change around a lot. You're not quite sure what he does for a living. He sleeps all day, only to be up and ready for work by the time you arrive home in the evenings.

More bodies appear. Two women.

They were discovered the same day, but times of death varied. The one had been dead for over several days when she was found, while the other was still warm. Medical examiner placed her time of death a few hours before she was found, not far from the other body. Neither bodies showed any sign of being moved—or other traumas—after death.

It's slowly sinking in that there may be a serial killer on the loose. One that takes much joy in draining the blood of young women. A silent, cold terror falls over your sleepy town.

The killings were slow at first. The original was discovered weeks before the second two. But the cause of death was too similar in both cases to overlook.

It didn't start to get to you until one of your coworkers wound up on your table. Her pale body drained of blood. She had invited you out for drinks. Which you refused. You had said goodnight to her the previous evening.

And little did you know, you would be the last person to see her alive.

You can't help but wonder what would have happened to you if you agreed. Would that be you? Would you have been the one on your cold metal table? Would your family be called in to identify your pale, bloodless body?

You were quickly ruled out as a suspect. The cameras outside your work caught you heading home at 6:30pm. She was killed somewhere around midnight. Not to mention, the cameras at the train station caught you taking your usual ride home. Out of everyone questioned, all of them said you weren't capable of such a thing.

The rest of the day was a blur of questions. That night you would come home, dragging your feet through the door. Yuji was away at a party. Choso was the only one home, sitting on the couch, idly switching his attention between his phone, and a movie. It was his day off. Even when he's not working, he's practically nocturnal. Though he's rather quiet, and respectful of everyone's sleep schedules, so you can't complain too much.

Maybe he noticed your grim appearance. Up until now, he'd been distant. He was rather timid, and shy. You made polite small talk when you ran into each other before work, but aside from that, your interactions were few. He was a little awkward, but had the same charms as his brother. Talking to him was rather easy.

"How was work?" He asks.

"Okay," you say. Out of respect for the dead, you generally skip the details. "Tiring. But since when is that new?"

You join him on the couch, tossing your keys and purse onto the coffee table. There's a certain slump to your shoulders that he hasn't noticed before. The dark circles under your eyes are only getting bigger. You're practically dragging yourself through the house. You’re not certain you have enough energy to both cook dinner, and shower, so you find yourself wondering which one you need to do the least.

"What's the matter?"

You're silent for a moment. You consider whether or not it's a big enough issue to tell him, or to just drop it.

"I had to process one of my coworkers today." You say. "I don't know what the hell I’m supposed to tell her husband. She invited me to go out to a bar with her last night. I didn't feel up to it, so I cancelled on her,

“And I know it's probably selfish of me to think this, but I could have just as easily been the one on the table today. Ready to be dissected by all my unknowing co-workers. And I'm just relieved it wasn't me,

"I realize that's a shitty thing to say. That doesn't suddenly exclude me from this guy's sick fantasies. The police aren't any closer to finding him than they first were!"

He can hear the anger in your voice. The frustration, and grief. He wants to do something to help, though he’s struck with uncertainty. You need time to grieve. Perhaps being alone is what's best for you right now.

Though you aren't looking at him, you feel his gaze turn to you. His eyes linger on you for a while before he speaks.

“I think you’re smart enough that he won't go after you.” He says.

Somehow you don't believe him.

Because you’re the killer’s type.

"I know this sounds weird," you say, "but can you… hold me? Just for a little bit?"

He nods, and opens his arms, not even taking a moment to consider it, just agreeing. Almost as if he's been waiting for this moment. Instinctively you go into them. He's not very warm, but there's an odd comfort to his presence. He pulls you to sit in his lap, his arms wrapping around your waist. His body rocks yours with each breath he takes.

You could swear there's not a heartbeat in his chest. You chalk it up to the thick hoodie he wears. The fabric of it is rather soft, and you run your fingers across it to help calm yourself.

"You really tired yourself out today, huh?" He asks.

You nod.

It would be easier to stay awake if you weren't so tired, or if his hoodie wasn't so soft, or if he wasn't softly rocking you in his arms.

He's there when you fall asleep. By the time you wake up, the sun has long since set, and he's gone to work. A blanket has been thrown over you, but you're still wearing your work clothes.

As time wears on, you spend more time around Choso. Exhaustion seeps into your very core. No matter how many hours you sleep, you wake up bone tired. He helps you cook, clean, and keep things around the house in order. Though you can very well do them yourself, he insists. And some nights you're too tired to refuse.

Mysterious scratches have begun appearing on your body. You've always moved around a lot in your sleep. At first, you didn't think much of it. But as more kept appearing, and as you grew more tired despite sleeping the same each night, you began to get worried. This prompted you to visit your doctor. It was about time you go in for a yearly checkup anyway.

Your doctor said your iron was low, and gave you a prescription for some vitamins. After taking them, and getting more rest, you began to feel better. Healing was a gradual, slow process, but soon you were cleared to go back to work. Choso still helped around the house. The routine you settled into felt like that of partners, more than of roommates.

And when more bodies would wind up on your table, lifeless against the cold metal slab, you would fall asleep in his arms. Sometimes on the couch. Sometimes you'd crawl into his bed, like a child wanting comfort from their parents after a nightmare. Seeking out his presence for the few hours before he had to leave for work. And most nights he was awake, Opening his arms for you to crawl into. He was always respectful, never making any odd comments, or touching you if you didn't want to be touched. There was a healthy apprehension behind his actions, that of any man thrown into such a position. He was sweet. Always making sure you were eating enough, and getting enough sleep, never wanting to make you uncomfortable.

More often than not, you were in his bed. Even when he was away, it provided a sense of comfort. It always smelled so nice—like him, and his cologne—and was far more comfortable than your own. As fall turned into winter, and the house's heating stopped working, you found yourself seeking him out more. Together the two of you would nap, and bask in the other's warmth.

Or his lack of such.

You hardly remember the night. It was a Friday. Yuji was—to no one's surprise—out partying, and would be gone for most of the weekend. After work you stopped at the farmers market, catching it before it shut down for the night, gathering some ingredients needed to make a soup.

The walk home was uneventful. Normally you'd take the train. But it was nice out, and the sky was clear, albeit cold.

Choso is sitting on the couch when you get home. A movie plays on the tv, though he pays no attention to it. He's only wearing sweatpants. His hair is down loose around his shoulders, and is still damp. He must have just gotten out of the shower. You hope there's still some hot water left.

You're not subtle in the way your gaze lingers on him. He’s attractive, you won't deny that. He hides himself in baggy clothes. It's no surprise to you. You've spent many nights tracing the hard planes of muscle. His arms have always brought you a feeling of security. Many nights you spent with your head leaned against his chest, listening for the beating of his heart.

You set the groceries down, and head to your room to change out of your work clothes. From a pile of clothes abandoned on your chair you pull a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. You've been meaning to fold your laundry, but between work, and everything else going on in life, it's slipped your mind. You make a mental note to do laundry tomorrow morning. Your basket is getting full.

He’s still on the couch when you come out, idly scrolling through his phone. You sit beside him. Though you’re hungry, you’ll wait a bit to start dinner. It won't take long, it's only a matter of thawing some meat, and boiling everything in a pot together. Not particularly complex, though a bit time consuming. With the weather growing colder, it sounded nice.

You join Choso on the couch, practically sprawling out across his lap. His arms find your waist and pull you to sit a little closer to him. You lean into his touch, your arms wrapping around his neck.

"How was work?" He asks.

"A shitshow." You say. "Another girl turned up."

"That's the second one this week?"

"Third." You say. Though you didn't know her personally, she worked in your building. A receptionist. Only a few years younger than you. Out of college for two years. Studied mortuary science. “This keeps happening! They’re never going to find who’s doing it!”

The irritation in your voice is palpable. Choso doesn't like seeing you in distress. One of his hands finds your head, stroking your hair. His nails are getting long, and feel nice against your scalp.

"You'll be alright.” He says. “I won't let anything happen to you.”

He can't promise that unless you never leave his side. Which you just might.

That's when he pulls you into a kiss.

It catches you entirely off guard. His lips are soft, and the smell of his shampoo is so inviting you can feel yourself leaning into him. For a moment you forget to breathe.

He’s the first to pull away. A faint blush dusts his cheeks, the tip of his nose, and his ears. He turns his head away to hide the smile that creeps up on his lips. From this angle, all you can see is the panic that flashes across his eyes.

“I sorry if that was too forward-” apologies are spilling from his mouth in an instant.

“Choso,” you say, “we’ve been sleeping in the same bed. I'm alright with you kissing me.”

He takes that as permission to continue, pulling you back to deepen the kiss. Your hands tangle in his soft hair. His hands find your hips, greedily kneading the soft flesh of your ass. It's hard to deny the heat that pools between your thighs. His touch sends shocks of electricity up your spine. Wherever his fingers touch, warmth blooms across your skin. You're left with an ache in your core, one that can only be fixed by his touch. He doesn't protest as you grind down against his toned thigh.

You don't even know how long he's wanted to do this.

It's only when you're out of breath, and have to come up for air that he speaks.

“Ride my face.” He says.

You stop. And for a moment he worries he's crossed a line.

"I'm too heavy," you say, "I-I'd suffocate you-"

"Please do." He says, swallowing hard. “I’d die a happy man."

The thought of you using him to get off in such a way warms his cold blood. His pupils have shrunk down to pinpricks.

“Just… shove me off if it gets to be too much,” you say, “or pinch me, or something. I don't want you dying on me.”

“Of course.” He says. The monotone edge to his voice is forced. Behind it you can hear excitement bubbling through.

He's quick to help free you of your shorts, letting out a soft hum of amusement as he realizes you have nothing on underneath. You rarely slept with panties on. Or at least you didn't until you started crawling into bed with him. Either out of modesty, or respect for him, you started wearing shorts with every night shirt you wore to bed. He misses when he could get a good look at your sleeping body. But having you in his own bed was far better than watching you sleep from the corner of your room.

Before you can even stop him, he’s leaning back, pulling you to rest over his face. He's a lot stronger than he looks, manhandling you like you weigh nothing. The feeling of your warm thighs around his head is nearly enough to make him moan. He's not shy about how he adores this. How the taste of your cunt is enough to make his cock stand to attention. How the gasps and moans that leave you are like music to his ears. Your body is so warm and full of life against his. He’s savoring everything about you; how you sound, how you smell, how you taste. He’s quick to bring you to orgasm, working you up with his skilled tongue. Maybe it's the stress. Maybe it's because you haven't had sex in a while. You’ve had past partners, but none as attentive as him. Maybe you’re more pent up than you thought.

You ride out your orgasm on his face for all it's worth. Choso practically forces it out of you. He won't let you go until you’re shaking, and whimpering, and crying out his name like a prayer.

He helps guide you to sit in his lap. Exhausted, and thoroughly fucked-out. Your head falls into the crook of his neck, pressing soft kisses to the junction of flesh where his neck and shoulder meet. Idly your fingers trace the muscles in his arms. Those strong arms that have always made you feel so safe and secure.

Your free hand works lower, palming the bulge of his cock through his sweatpants. The sight of it is nearly enough to make you drool. You’re certain he wants it too. He’s painfully hard, leaking precum against his equally toned thighs, letting out the cutest noises as you grind against him.

The kiss he pulls you into is soft. You can taste yourself on his lips. Not that you mind. His hand moves to cup your face, his thumb tracing slow circles across your cheek.

You hardly hear the jingle of keys in the door.

Yuji drunkenly stumbles through the front door. You pull a blanket into your lap to help cover yourself, and hide Choso, who doesn't seem to be bothered by this at all. You should consider yourself lucky the couch is faced away from the door.

"Oh hey roomie!" Yuji says. "Where's Cho?"

You lean to the side, giving Yuji a better look at his brother. He greets him, and leaves, heading for the bathroom, where you soon hear the shower running.

He either does know, and is choosing not to say anything, or is blissfully ignorant. Both of which are equally possible. Yuji may not be the brightest bulb in the box, but credit where credit is due. He's not too stupid.

As much as you’d like to return the favor—or go for another round, as Choso tried to insist—you went straight to bed. Separate this time. You’re not about to fuck your roommate with his brother in the next room over.

Choso managed to keep his promise.

Less bodies began showing up.

It wasn't a gradual thing. They quite literally stopped appearing. There was the one unrelated murder, and a suicide, plus your usual deaths from natural causes, but no more exanguanations.

Slowly things returned to normal. It was like a fog had lifted. Winter dragged on like an endless death march, leaving the trees dead, and the grass brown. The new year rolled around, though you didn't do much to celebrate. Less and less you found yourself looking over your shoulder.

Choso was worried he had made things awkward. To be fair, things were awkward from the start. You began sleeping in your own bed again. Though you weren't necessarily cold towards him, you were more distant than in past weeks. As things at work began to settle down, you went back to your old routine.

Something has to change.

Maybe it started because of the colder weather, or lack of sunlight. You often found yourself exhausted, and sick. You were colder than normal. Not that the cold has been too much of an issue for you in the past, but it was like you couldn't warm up.

Choso—poor, sweet Choso—had a heated blanket that you spent many nights curled up under, on the opposite side of his bed. You sought him out for the little warmth he could provide.

And provide he did. Letting you curl up next to him, bringing you tea and soup when you’d fall sick, eating you out when you’d wake up in the early hours of the morning begging for him, a growing wetness between your thighs. It was odd how he rarely asked you to return the favor, but you did little to protest when he insisted on a second—or even a third—round.

If his younger brother noticed something was up, he never said anything about it. Though, knowing Yuji, he might have just thought the two of you were close friends.

The presence of his younger brother didn't stop him from fucking you across every flat surface in your house. In your own rooms, over the counter in the kitchen, on the couch when you have the place to yourself. Sometimes Yuji was home, sometimes he wasn't. He’d take you on the porch outside if you so pleased. But you don't. And you don't want your neighbors complaining any more than they do. You’re loud enough as it is with several walls separating you. But you make such sweet noises, and Choso wants everyone to hear them.

There are few things he likes seeing more than your pretty body writhing under his.

It was one of the not-so rare days you were calling out sick from work. You were told to rest up, and feel better soon. Which you had all intentions of. Choso had errands to run, and was gone before you even woke up. The other side of the bed was cold by the time you were up and moving.

You go about your day as normal, making tea, and breakfast although it's well past noon. Eggs and bacon sounded good. After breakfast, you settle down on the couch, with a blanket and more tea, intending on marathoning movies. The late morning turns into the early afternoon. Before you know it, the sun is setting.

When the door opens, you expect it to be Yuji, coming home after his classes.

In walks Choso, his arms drenched in blood.

It takes you nearly a minute to process the scene in front of you. During that time, the two of you both stare at each other, waiting for the other to speak.

Did he get hurt? Did someone attack him? Is this serial killer going after men now?!

“Holy shit!” You say. “What the hell happened?! Were you hurt?”

“Oh,” Choso says softly, “you’re home. I thought you’d still be at work.”

Though his tone is monotone, as usual, there's a hint of excitement behind his voice. Barely restrained. Like he's holding back.

“Come here,” you say, and slowly he walks forward, joining you on the couch, “are you going to tell me what happened?”

You give him a once over for any injuries, but find none. Is this blood even his?! The entire time he's silent, watching you through half-lidded eyes. Most of the people you deal with are dead. The living aren't exactly your forte.

“Hey, we need to get you to a doctor.” You say. “I can only do so much here. Why don't you go get changed. I’ll give you a ride to the ER.”

That's when he licks his hand.

“Gross!” You say, grabbing his wrist and wrenching it from his mouth. Is he having some sort of mental break? Do you need to call an ambulance? “Don't do that! Do you know how many diseases you could have just given yourself?!”

You cringe away as he tries to kiss you, planting your hands on his chest and giving him a good shove. Even as you think back to the morning’s—and the previous night’s—events, you find nothing out of the ordinary. Nothing outside of your normal routine has happened.

Aside from you calling out of work sick.

“Why don't we go get you cleaned up,” you say, trying to guide him to the bathroom, “we don't need you getting any blood on the furniture.”

Maybe if you distract him long enough it’ll give you time to call an ambulance. Or the police.

Just what has your poor, sweet Choso gotten himself into?

He doesn't protest as you run a bath, and help him get undressed. He tries to help you undress, but you simply swat his hands away, and tell him to let you take care of him.

If something happened, then his clothes might be evidence, so you make a mental note to not wash them. One of your neighbors must have seen something. A man walking home covered in blood in almost broad daylight wouldn't go unnoticed. Or so you’d assume. Granted, the overcast weather, and the setting sun would leave it pretty dark.

What makes you the most worried is the lack of wounds overall. If he got into a fight, it's more than likely he would have wounds on his hands. Even if he were using a weapon, the force needed to stab, slash, or cut another human being would bruise him. It's a lot harder to stab a person than you’d think. Not to mention you’ve got bones and muscles in the way. Unless you truly knew where to aim—or got really lucky—there would be signs.

The water turns a bright shade of pink as you help scrub him down. He can't help but think of how much better it’d be if you got into the water with him. And how nice your body would look covered in red.

Choso can sense the way your pulse quickens. You're very good at hiding your fear. Though you must be terrified. Years in your line of work has hardened you, and left you calm and collected under pressure.

He hates seeing you in distress. But there's a sweet, intoxicating feeling that accompanies it. He wonders how sweet your blood has gotten, mixed with adrenaline. Fear makes it taste better. He hopes you know that. But yours never needed fear to make it the best he’s ever had. You couldn't imagine how many nights he spent debating whether or not to drain you dry.

To kill you would be a waste. You are truly something special.

In his defense, he never took enough to kill you. Really, he didn't need to drain all those women. He doesn't need to feed that much to survive. It was only a plus that you curled up to him each night, seeking his presence. Oh how he’d kill a hundred men just to suckle at your neck while deep in your cunt.

It'll be even better now that you’re awake.

“Get in the water with me,” he says.

“Once I get all this blood off,” you say, holding his hand up to inspect it, “then I’ll refill the tub and get in. I don't want to get sick.”

But he wants you in now.

You stay true to your word. Once you get the majority of the blood off, you drain the water, and start refilling the tubm watching the last of the pink water swirling down the drain. In the meantime, you get undressed, and settle into the shallow, slowly rising water. You add in some soaps, and bath salts you’ve been saving for a special occasion. Supposedly they help with stress, but you’re more anxious than you’ve ever been.

In his arms you used to find comfort. Now they're little more than something to keep track of in case you have to run.

His grip around your waist tightens, pulling you to sit in his lap. His lips find your neck, littering it with kisses, and softly sucking at the sensitive skin. Your neck smells so nice. He finds a washcloth, and some soap, dragging the rough fabric across your skin, admiring the softness of it. If the context were any different, such an action would be completely innocent.

"Choso?" You can hardly choke out his name. "Did you kill all those people?!"

"Not all of them," he says, "some were accidents. But they were done by my kind, if that's what you’re asking.”

Does Yuji know about this? You doubt it. You’d be hard pressed to find something Yuji does know about. You're mentally steeling yourself, eyes frantically scanning the room for a way out. There's nothing nearby you can use as a weapon, save for a ceramic pot, still holding a houseplant. Maybe a good whack over the head will deter him. But knowing Choso…

“I can get to the door before you.” You say.

“Can you?” He asks. “I think I’m faster.”

There's a sharp, stinging pain and his teeth dig into your neck. Though you’re mostly silent, caught by surprise, a small squeak escapes you. It only hurts for a moment. His grip around your waist tightens. And he's saying something- but your head is too foggy to make out any words.

What the hell was that? Did he just draw blood?

The warm feeling of his tongue against your neck is enough to make you shudder. A shock of pleasure is sent up your spine, one which should most surely be pain. Your body is a little too receptive to this. Maybe it's the warm water, but you could almost swear your body is heating up.

Danger and arousal practically overlap in the human mind. Those neurons are very close, practically crossing over in some cases.

While part of you is frozen in fear, part of you finds this extremely hot.

"Sorry, love. I hope it doesn't hurt too bad," he says, "I can't help myself. Yours is the sweetest."

Nobody else compares to you.

He does let you break free. Though you’re soaking wet, you make it out of the bathroom, and down the hall before he catches you. This time you scream, only for one of his large hands to cover your mouth.

“Don't run,” he says, and before you can protest, he’s swooping you up into his arms bridal style, “I’ll always catch you.”

Your elbow swings out, slamming into his sternum hard. He lets out a soft grunt of surprise, though it hurts you more than it hurts him. He's a lot stronger than you. A shock of pain is sent up your arm. It's like hitting a brick wall. By reflex, he drops you, giving you an opening to dash for the door.

But that's where he’s expecting you to go.

You make a sudden left for his bedroom, where there's a sliding glass door that leads out to the porch. From there, you suppose you’ll yell for help. Maybe one of your neighbors will take pity on you, a poor, naked girl running from her insane lover.

In your moment of hesitation, he’s caught up to you, grabbing you by the shoulder and yanking you back. Your terrified gasp much resembles a moan in nature, as heat pools not only in your face, but between your legs.

You’re enjoying this little game of cat and mouse…

In Choso’s mind it only solidifies his view of you as his own. A pretty little thing to preen, and feed off of. His partner. His mate. Oh how pretty your sleeping form looked, oblivious to the way he fed from you.

You pray for Yuji to come home early. For him to not go out partying for once. But your prayers are ignored.

“Don't get my intentions misconstrued,” Choso says, “I have no plans to kill you.”

You're far more valuable to him alive.

You swallow hard. The heat between your legs only builds in intensity. Your teeth find your bottom lip, digging into it hard. Soon the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth.

The sight of him standing before you, naked, with water still dripping off of him is enough to pool the fire that burns in your belly. His hair is loose around his shoulders, his long, dark locks falling into his face. Albeit terrifying, he is handsome.

The worst part is his eyes.

They aren't the eyes of a monster. Nor do they hold any sort of malice, or anger. He looks at you with such adoration that you want to sob. He looks at you like you’re the sun, the moon, and all the stars. Like you’re the world to him.

In his defense, he does love you. Just in the twisted way that his undead heart will allow. You loved him too. At one point.

“There was only so much I could take without harming you.” He says. “Only feeding from you proved to have detrimental consequences to your health. If I didn't feed from others, you likely would have died.”

Is that why he’s been so nice? Why he’s been cooking for you, and insisting you take your vitamins?

Your head spins. Maybe it's from the hot water. Maybe this is a nightmare, and in a few minutes you’ll wake up.

Your hand falls to your neck, where warm blood trickles down onto your heaving chest. You don't expect it to come away wet with blood. The red sight makes you nauseous.

“Your neck,” he coos, “why don't you let me help with the bleeding.”

“Like hell I will!”

You back up, the back of your knees hitting the edge of the bed. With a gasp, you fall, hitting the mattress. The bed that was once so inviting is now cold, and unforgiving.

You hardly notice as he crawls in beside you, pulling you to rest against his chest. His lips attack your neck, sukling the small wound. The pleased grunts and groans he makes are enough to fuel the fire burning in your stomach. Every cell in your being is crying out for him to touch you, though the rational part of your brain wants you to fight.

His hand trails lower, eventually finding the slick that pools around your entrance, humming in amusement.

“My good girl,” he coos, “so wet for me.”

His words are enough to send a shock of pleasure up your spine. The months you two have spent together have given him enough time to figure out just what makes you tick. His fingers find your clit, working circles around the bundle of nerves, eliciting a small moan from you. You're so soft, so warm and reactive to his touch. When around you, Choso feels truly alive.

His thumb works circles around your clit while he pumps his fingers. His touch leaves your body feeling warm. And though most of your being wants you to run, you can't help but relax into his touch. He’s your Choso, after all. The same man that let you curl up next to him after a nightmare, and would bring you tea and soup when you were sick.

How could someone so doting be such a monster?

It doesn't take him long to settle into a pattern that makes your toes curl, drawing soft moans from you. Tension builds in your stomach like a rubber band being stretched tight. He's making a mess out of you both. And he’d make a mess out of you every day for the rest of your lives if you’d let him.

This is so wrong. Not that you're complaining.

He's a murderer! But complying might be your best chance at getting out of this.

The heat in your stomach is practically unbearable. Your face buries in his covers, unintentionally inhaling his scent. He just smells so nice. More than anything, you want him to fuck you.

Slowly, gently, he guides you to lay on your back, caging your body under his. You clench around the sudden emptiness, wishing for nothing more than his hand to return. His eyes meet yours for only a moment. Though yours are full of fright, his are filled with affection.

He really does love you. Just in his own way. One that humans don't understand. One that borders on the line of obsession.

Choso leaves a path of wet kisses down your stomach, his lips stained red with blood. The wound on your neck has mostly stopped bleeding. The pain has reduced to a dull ache that throbs with each beat of your heart. The small ways your body reacts, your back arching up towards him, your pulse quickening, only solidifies the thought in his mind that you’re his.

His head comes to rest on your stomach. His hair tickles the sensitive skin of your lower belly, and thighs. You nod, giving him silent permission to continue.

You gasp at the feeling of his cool tongue against your clit, lavishing it with affections. Your cunt is almost as sweet as your blood. And he makes sure you know that, moaning nearly as loud as you at the taste. His arms hook around your legs, pulling you closer to him. Choso is a lot stronger than he looks. You get the impression that—if he so pleased—could keep you there forever.

And he just might, working you closer to orgasm, letting you creep up on that edge but never falling down the other side. Not until you’re crying out his name, and begging to cum. He's making such a mess. Out of you, and himself, and the sheets. If Choso could purr, he would be.

“Please, Cho,” you whine, “I wanna cum!”

This only draws a dark laugh from him. He pulls away, his chin covered in saliva, and your own slick.

“Not yet, love.” He says. “It’ll feel so much better when you finally cum on my cock.”

He wastes no time in lining himself up, giving his already hardened cock a few pumps before pressing into you. There's no stinging as he pushes in. There hardly ever is. Choso isn't a selfish lover in the slightest. He knows his size is intimidating. He always makes sure you’re prepped enough to take him.

Choso doesn't bother using a condom. There's no need, now that you’re his. Oh how he’s been waiting for the day to see your fucked-out form leaking his cum. You truly are his now.

It's oddly intimate, the way he litters your neck with kisses as he ruts into you. His lips leave your skin feeling warm. He tries to pace himself, really, but the warm, velvety feeling of your cunt is too much. You feel too good, he can't hold himself back. Though he hasn't felt human in a long time, you truly make him feel like one.

His hands plant on the back of your knees, shoving them up towards your chest. There's a pleasant stretch in your hips as he guides you into a mating press. The sound of skin slapping on skin fills the room. Your moans are hardly drowned out by his words of praise, calling you a good girl, telling you how well you take him, how much he loves you.

And you really are starting to believe it.

“Cho- I'm gonna-”

“Do it then,” he says, “cum for me.”

When you finally cum, you cum hard. Your orgasm rolls over you like a wave, pulling you under, and spitting you back out wrong. Your body twitches, overcome with pleasure, riding out your orgasm on his cock. Exhaustion slowly sets in, leaving your limbs heavy, and your eyes struggling to stay open.

He’s not far behind, his thrusts growing unsteadier. His words of praise turn into babble, incoherent sentence fragments, mostly which consist of “I love you”s. He gives no warning when he’s about to cum, instead, making sure that you take every last drop of it. The cold feeling of his cum makes you shudder. It's not outright unpleasant, though it feels strange. He doesn't bother pulling out, only settling down beside you on the bed, softening cock still inside you. His arms wrap around you, pulling you flush to his chest.

Just what kind of mess have you gotten yourself into?

Part of you wishes for your roommate to stumble through the front door. Part of you is content in your lover's arms. Has anything really changed about your Choso? Would Yuji even help? He’s his brother after all.

Your limbs feel heavy, though your head feels light. Weightless. It's not a normal feeling. It's like you're drunk, but you haven't touched a drop of alcohol. His lips find your neck, lapping at the steady stream of blood from the reopened wound.

You’re completely helpless as you fall into the cold grasp of sleep.