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merakidoll · 7 hours ago

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*cums*

Sukuna!Domination

Not sweet at all

For the event 10 Forbidden Desires hosted by @merakidoll !!

⌖𔘓1.5k+ words, smut, explicit sexual content (18+), rough sex (brutal pace, manhandling, choking, biting), size kink, degrading and possessive dirty talk, multiple orgasms, breeding kink, crying during sex, overstimulation, dark themes / intense dynamics, against the wall —> then missionary, a bit of aftercare(kinda), etc.⌖ 𔘓

"You humans have such weak stamina" the king of curses said, losing patience.

Sukuna slammed you back against the nearest wall so hard it rattled in its frame, his hand wrapping around your throat. "Pathetic little thing," he muttered, voice low and venomous against your ear, his breath hot and ragged. His other hand gripped your hip tight enough to bruise, dragging you up his body like you weighed nothing.

You gasped, nails scraping at the cords of muscle under his skin, but Sukuna just laughed — a dark, guttural sound that vibrated through your chest where he pinned you. He squeezed your throat, not enough to cut you off yet — just enough to remind you who's stronger, who's bigger, who's in control.

"You feel that?" he growled, shoving a thigh between your legs without warning, forcing your body to open around him. "That's what happens when you fuck around with someone you can't handle."

He didn't wait for a reply. He didn’t want one. Sukuna tore into you like you were made to be ruined, dragging his mouth down your neck, teeth scraping open whatever delicate patches of skin he found. His free hand roamed greedily, fingers digging into your hips, your ass, wherever he pleased.

You whimpered — a desperate, needy sound that earned you a cruel grin, the kind that promised he'd heard it, loved it, was going to rip a thousand more from you.

"Too small," he muttered against your skin, fisting the hem of your clothes and yanking them aside like they were an inconvenience. His hands dwarfed your body — made you feel fragile, tiny, at his mercy — and Sukuna revelled in it, pushing inside without apology, without hesitation, savoring the way you stretched and strained around him.

"Should've known better," he sneered, voice tight, guttural. "Look at you. Splitting on me like you were made for it."

Your legs trembled, instinctively trying to close around him, to ease the brutal stretch, but Sukuna wouldn’t allow it — he forced your thighs apart wider, held you there, immovable, his mouth brushing your ear with a growl that was all teeth and cruelty.

"Sukuna—ah, mghn." you couldn’t stop the sounds spilling out of you while he fucked you fast and hard.

"Mhm, take it," he snapped. "You can fucking take it."

Every thrust drove you higher against the wall, grinding your back against the cracked plaster. It was overwhelming — too much, not enough, a blur of sensation that left you clawing at his shoulders, gasping around the tightness of his grip.

Sukuna leaned in, biting at your jaw, your throat, leaving stinging little marks in his wake. His pace never faltered. His hands never gentled. He owned every broken noise, every useless squirm, every desperate gasp.

"Mine," he growled, biting down hard enough on your shoulder to make you yelp. His voice was ragged, close to losing control, and that thought should've scared you more than it thrilled you. "Fucking mine."

You nodded frantically at his words gasping and moaning uncontrollably.

Your body jerked with every punishing snap of his hips, helpless to do anything but take it — stretched tight around him, throat squeezed just enough to blur the edges of everything but him.

You felt him getting closer — the way his thrusts grew harsher, almost brutal, the way his breathing sawed against your ear, all broken growls and sharp snarls. His hand shifted on your throat, tightening enough to make your vision tilt and swim, to make you cling to him without thinking, desperate for something solid while he tore you apart from the inside out.

"You feel that?" Sukuna rasped, his voice pure wreckage, thick with dark, savage satisfaction. "Your body fuckin’ begging me to finish inside you."

You couldn’t even deny it. Couldn’t find the air, the words, the will. You were nothing but raw nerves and shaking limbs, stretched open and trembling in his hands.

He laughed — low, cruel, dangerous — and slammed into you harder, grinding deep, making you sob out against his shoulder.

"That's it," he snarled. "Take it. Take all of it."

"Oh my—fucking—mmngh." Your body seized, your walls clenching hard around him as you came with a cry.

The moment he spilled inside you, it was violent — not just the way he shuddered against you, teeth sinking into your skin again to muffle the deep, guttural noise he made — but the way he kept going, fucking you through it, holding you in place like he could shove himself deeper, claim parts of you that hadn't even existed until he made them.

His hand stayed wrapped around your throat, pinning you against the wall like a trophy, his hips still grinding against you in slow, punishing thrusts even after he’d finished, like he needed to make sure you knew who you belonged to.

Your breath was short and shaky as you tried to recover and ground yourself.

"You’re not fucking done," he voiced, tone rough, needy, almost gleeful at the way you whimpered under him. "Not until I say you are."

He finally let up on your throat — just enough for you to suck in a raw, gasping breath — before he caught your jaw in a bruising grip, forcing your eyes up to meet his.

"Look at you," Sukuna sneered, smearing his thumb rough across your swollen bottom lip. "Wrecked. Ruined. And you're still holding me, clenching all over my cock."

He kissed you then — a brutal, claiming clash of teeth and tongue that left you dizzy, broken open, branded by him inside and out.

And he wasn’t finished.

Not even close.

Sukuna didn’t give you time to catch your breath.

Didn’t give you time to think.

The second he pulled out, it was only to grab you by the hips and haul you away from the wall like you weighed nothing — like you were something he could sling over his shoulder and use however he wanted.

You wiggled in his grip, "S—Sukuna waiit," you stammered.

"Still squirming," he muttered, amused and almost affectionate in the cruelest way possible. "Like you haven't figured it out yet."

He dropped you onto the bed hard enough to stop the flood of words that he knew were about to come, standing over you like a god surveying the wreckage he'd made. His chest heaved with exertion, his cock already hardening again, thick and glistening, still ready — like the first time hadn't even scratched the surface of what he intended to take.

"You look better like this," he said, voice thick with hunger as he pushed your thighs apart with his knee, settling between them again. His hands roamed your body, rough and greedy, not bothering with anything soft — squeezing, slapping, bruising, owning.

"All stretched out... trembling for me... dripping with me."

He grabbed your jaw again, forcing your gaze to stay locked on his.

"You're gonna take everything I give you. Every last drop. Gonna ruin that pretty little body." he said, baring sharp teeth in something that wasn’t a smile.

You felt your stomach clench at his words you let out a low hum feeling him tease your entrance, you started to shift wanting more sensation, "Please, fuck me," you whispered. And that's all it took for him.

He pushed back inside without warning, making you arch and sob under the sudden, brutal stretch. Sukuna grunted at the feeling, hips slamming flush against you, setting a savage, relentless rhythm that had the bedframe screaming in protest.

"That's it," he snarled, pounding into you like he was trying to fuck you through the mattress. "Cry for me. Let 'em hear you."

You did. You couldn’t help it — the sounds ripped out of your throat raw and ragged, every thrust forcing more broken whimpers from your lips.

He caught one of your wrists and pinned it over your head with one massive hand, the other wrapping around your throat again — squeezing, controlling, owning — as he kept thrusting into you with vicious, punishing force.

"Pathetic," he hissed against your mouth, breath hot and filthy. "Tiny little thing... split wide open on my cock like you can't live without it."

You didn’t know where you ended and he began — overwhelmed, overrun, every sense shattered under the heat of him, the size of him, the mercilessness of him.

Sukuna's lips brushed your ear, voice low, guttural, dangerous.

"I'm gonna fuck you till you can't walk straight," he promised. "Till you can't even think without dripping for me."

And he meant it.

Every brutal thrust drove the promise deeper into your body, carving it into your soul, branding you from the inside out.

You were his.

You were already gone.

You lost track of how many times he forced you over the edge.

Every time you cried out, every time your body broke against his, he dragged you right back into it — using his hands, his cock, his teeth, tounge, anything he pleased, anything that would shatter you just a little more.

"You think I'm fuckin’ satisfied?" he growled against your skin, dragging your hips up to meet his thrusts. "Look at you — still clenching around me like you need more."

You tried to twist away, feeling way to sensitive, but Sukuna pinned you down harder — flattened you under the sheer weight of him, wrist still trapped above your head, throat still cradled in his palm like he could crush it if he wanted.

"You’re not getting away," he snarled, voice a wrecked, filthy thing, full of raw possession. "You're mine. You're gonna come for me again, and again, and again — till you can’t remember your own damn name."

His hips slammed into you with brutal precision, the wet, obscene sounds of skin against skin filling the room — drowning out your own ragged cries, your sobbed little gasps.

You felt another orgasm building — sharp, overwhelming, pushing you over the edge— and Sukuna knew. He felt it in the way your body tightened, the way your thighs trembled around him, the way you got louder.

He grinned — a dark, wicked thing — and slammed even harder into you, dragging the broken sob he wanted from your raw throat.

"That's it," he hissed. "Give it to me. Cum on my cock."

You shattered — clinging to him, gasping, vision blurring at the edges — and Sukuna kept fucking you through it, relentless, merciless, worshiping the way your body obeyed him.

"You were made for me," he rasped against your ear. "A tiny, pathetic little thing — stretched out, dripping, fucking ruined for me."

You barely even heard your own sobs anymore — barely felt the tears leaking from the corners of your eyes. All you could feel was him — overwhelming, overbearing, everything.

Sukuna was close again — you could tell in the way his thrusts grew sloppier, rougher, the way his hand tightened just enough around your throat to steal the last of your air.

"You want it?" he growled, voice breaking into something almost wild. "Want me to fuckin’ breed you? Fill you up so good no one else’ll ever dare touch you?"

You whimpered — couldn’t even form the word — and Sukuna took it as permission, slamming into you with brutal finality as he spilled inside you again, filling you so deep you felt it leaking out around him immediately.

He didn’t pull out.

He stayed buried inside you, panting against your throat, hand still locked around your jaw like he owned you — and maybe he did.

"You’re mine," Sukuna snarled against your ruined mouth, kissing you like he was sealing some bloody deal. "Mine forever."

───────────────𔘓⌖────────────────

The air between you both was thick — heavy with heat and sweat and something messier, something rawer.

You lay sprawled under him, body trembling, skin marked up and burning everywhere he touched you. Every muscle felt wrecked, every nerve frayed to shreds — but somehow, you still didn’t want him to move.

Sukuna stayed inside you a moment longer, breathing rough against your ear, like he didn’t want to pull away either.

Finally, with a low grunt, he dragged himself out, making you whimper from the sudden emptiness.

Immediately, he was touching you again — rough palms sweeping down your sides, gathering you up against him, pressing your wrecked body to his chest like he had to feel you breathing to believe it.

"You alive?" he rumbled against your hair, voice low and rough, but there was an edge of something else buried in it — something sharper, worried.

You let out a wrecked little laugh against his skin, weak and hoarse and real.

"Barely," you croaked, voice shredded from crying out for him for god knows how long. "M'pretty sure you rearranged my guts and I can't feel my legss."

Sukuna barked out a short, harsh laugh — the kind that rumbled deep in his chest — but you felt the way his hands gentled without thinking, stroking slow along your back, thumb brushing up and down your spine like he couldn’t help himself.

"Tch, dramatic little thing," he muttered, but his mouth pressed against your temple, lingering longer than necessary. "You need anything?"

You tilted your face up toward him, eyes bleary, lips cracked from how hard he’d kissed you earlier.

"You gonna carry me to the bathroom?" you slurred, a lazy, half-cocky grin tugging at your mouth. "‘Cause I’m pretty sure my legs don’t work anymore."

Sukuna snorted — an almost fond sound, if you could believe it — and sat up halfway, dragging you with him easily, cradling you against his massive chest like you weighed nothing at all.

"You’re not movin’ a fuckin’ inch without me," he said, voice dropping even lower — that dangerous, possessive purr back in full force. "Not after the way you took me. Gonna take care of you."

He bent down, teeth grazing the side of your neck, a little softer this time. Still rough — still him — but no longer trying to tear you apart.

Marking you. Keeping you.

You mumbled something slurred and half-laughing against his collarbone — something about how you should charge him rent for living inside you now — and Sukuna growled under his breath, the sound vibrating all through your battered body.

"Smart mouth," he muttered. "Gonna let it slide this time. You earned it."

He shifted you carefully against him, one hand sliding under your thighs, the other braced around your back. His eyes swept down over you — lingering on the bruises he’d left, the handprints, the raw red bite marks — and for a second, something almost tender flickered across his brutal face.

"You’re mine," he said again, softer this time, like it was a vow. "I'll give you any and everything."

And when he carried you toward the bathroom, cradling you tight against his chest like something precious he could break if he wasn't careful, you finally let yourself relax — letting everything settle, letting yourself be close to him, just for now.

Dividers by @cafekitsune and @uzmacchiato

All works © liliacwiine 2025. Do not modify, plagiarize, or repost my work.

#— ten desires event! ˚ෆ 𐙚

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merakidoll · 12 days ago

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so delicious and yummy!! thank you for feeding us 🫶🏾

This is my first time posting up here BARE WITH ME😭🙏🏼oh, and ignore the mistakes. I got tired of re-reading it.

Mature content ahead!!

For the 10 Forbidden Desires event hosted by @merakidoll !!

It is a quiet late night at the aid station, the occasional creak of the old building settling like a whisper in the stillness.

*Knock *Knock

You turn away from the shelf filled with medical supplies and pharmaceuticals, clipboard in hand. You see him standing in the doorway, his shoulders heavy and dirt caked onto his shoes.

"Come in," you say, turning back and moving to your desk to continue filling out a medical chart. "How was patrol and recruit training? I missed you. Oh, and I heard Cassidy got his ass handed to him by the rookie!" You laugh heartily.

"I missed you too, meine liebe. The patrol was alright," he replies, his voice low, heavy with unspoken stories. He steps inside and drops his gear on one of the patient beds as if it's a burden, an anchor.

“I told him to leave the training to Ghost, but you know how he is.” His footsteps echo through the room, heavy and final, like each one seals your fate. He’s close now. Too close. He glances over your shoulder at the clipboard. His eyes narrow slightly as they catch a glimpse of Dominick's file. "I didn't know Dominick had HIV," he murmurs, wrapping his arms around your waist in a way that feels both intimate and consuming. You feel small in his hold, caged by his body.

You look up at him, giving a look of disapproval.

"Stop! You can't read other people's medical information," you scold, moving your clipboard aside so he can't see. He chuckles, the sound dark and teasing, as his thumb strokes your waist, pulling you against him. He lowers his head into your neck and whispers, his breath hot with possession.

"You know I can take you away from all of this," he breathes, his tone deep and hushed. You can feel the heat radiating off him—burning low, restrained, volatile.

"I know, but I like helping you guys. And besides, Imani is here," you answer.

Your breath hitches once you feel him place a kiss on your neck. He licks, then sucks your skin, leaving deliberate, bruising marks before pausing to speak.

“Forget about all of them,” he says, voice gruff and enticing “Let’s go somewhere.” he urges, his hand trails downward, slow and certain, sliding along the curve of your thigh. Then, rubbing up and down with his thumb.

"Where?" you mumble, thought and reason slipping into the dark.

“Wherever you want, as long as it’s just us...” he trails off, but his hands are already making decisions for you. He slides one to the edge of your dress, bunching the fabric up over your hips. He continues his work on your neck.

He takes his other hand and brings it up to your mouth; his thumb brushes your bottom lip, your lips part, granting him access, and he slips two fingers in—thick and heavy against your tongue. You let out a low hum as you begin to suck his fingers, getting them wet with slow, greedy sucks and whirls of your tongue. Behind you, you feel his dick press against your ass. He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting his fingers and your lips.

"Unordentliches Mädchen," he rasps, feeling you grind against him—needy, reckless. His words drip with amusement, low and possessive, his native tongue sending a tremor down your spine. He lowers his hand before slipping it under the hem of your panties. His fingers graze your clit on their way down; your hips buck at the feeling.

He slides his fingers between your folds and starts probing your entrance. You whimper, instinctively trying to push yourself down onto his hand—to take more, to feel fuller. But he only tightens his grip on your waist, controlling your movements like he owns you. The difference in your sizes only adds to your ache—he's massive behind you, completely surrounding you.

"So eager," he mutters, voice dark with desire. "You're already wet."

And then he pushes two fingers into you.

The stretch steals the air from your lungs. He doesn't rush—it's slow, careful, letting you feel every inch of him. His fingers are wide, calloused, and thick enough to make your eyes flutter. It's too much and not enough all at once.

He lifts your leg suddenly, strong hands maneuvering you like you weigh nothing. He places it on your desk before bending you over with his fingers still inside you. His fingers start to move—slow at first, almost teasing—curling, stroking, coaxing. Then, he grabs your shoulder, pulling you back to arch against him. You're completely open to him now—his chest against your back. One hand wrapped around your torso, the other buried deep inside you.

He explores you like he's memorizing everything.

You can feel every drag along your slick walls, every shift of his knuckles. He knows exactly where to angle them, and when he finds that spot—you gasp, thighs trembling.

"König..." you pant, your voice a breathless plea.

He says nothing at first. Just breathes—hard, heavy—and keeps working you with relentless precision. The new angle lets his fingers reach deeper, and when he curls them just right, you cry out, clenching down around him. The slick sounds are filthy, echoing between your bodies as he picks up the pace. You try to grab his wrist, fingers trembling, hoping to slow him, to catch your breath—but he doesn't stop. If anything, he thrusts faster, harder.

Your body starts to give in, walls fluttering around his fingers. The pressure builds fast—hot, overwhelming—and your moans grow louder, higher. You're shaking, your thighs quivering as the pleasure threatens to consume you. He feels it—feels you getting close—and it only makes him more relentless. His fingers pump into you with slick, intense speed, curling mercilessly with each thrust.

Your moans and whimpers grow louder as he speeds up. He keeps at it until you're dripping all over his hand. His fingers pump faster, curling just right.

"Ahh—m'fuck" you moan, panting, legs trembling. Your eyes start to gloss over. Your hand goes to his wrist, trying to slow him down, but that does nothing to stop him. König feels you clench around his fingers. You were getting so close. His fingers thrust harder, faster now—the wet sounds getting louder. You're slick and dripping, thighs shaking, moaning uncontrollably in his grip.

But before you can finish, he pulls his fingers out of you and turns you around, lifting you so you can sit on the desk.

You're now face to face.

"W-why?" you gasp, still trying to catch your breath.

"It's okay, sweetheart," he says low, reassuring, hands gripping the sides of your nursing dress. "We're not done," he speaks. Pulling the dress over your head before unclipping your bra. "Not even close." His eyes flicker up and down, taking in your glossy eyes and the sticky mess between your legs. He spreads your legs wider, still fully dressed, undoing his belt with one hand—the metallic click loud and daunting. You watch attentively as he pulls it out—thick, veined, hard. Your breath hitches. You could feel yourself ache all over again, just from looking at him.

"König..." you call out with a pout, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders and pulling him closer. He nudges his tip on your clit a few times before sliding up and down between your sticky folds.

He smirks and taps his tip against your clit, teasing, sending jolts through your body. Then he slides between your folds, slow and deliberate. He looks down at you with those dark eyes that hold so many secrets and emotions.

"Please fuck me," you plead, growing needy by the second.

"Yeah, baby? You want me to fuck you?" he teases, voice low and rough, rubbing himself at your entrance, just barely pressing in.

"Yes—please—I need you," you plead, lips trembling. Eyes watering.

You always got emotional when you were this desperate. He reaches up, pulls off his mask, and presses a soft kiss to your forehead, then your lips. He begins to slide in slowly. Your eyes widen and brows furrow at the feeling of him stretching you out. You start to whine and squirm, and he pushes his hips forward, forcing his length in inch by inch.

You both moan when he finally bottoms out.

"Scheiße, baby... relax," he hisses, feeling your walls clench around him uncontrollably, trying to handle his size. You whine, trying to squirm away, but his grip is firm. He pushes his hips forward, deeper, inch by inch.

"König—uh-uh... take some out," you whimper, overwhelmed. It was too much... he was too much.

"Shh... it's okay, my love," he murmurs, looking down where his dick is fully buried inside you, your pussy stretched around him, raw and dripping. "Let me take care of you." His hand grips your thigh, spreading you even wider. He pulls out a few inches and starts to thrust—slow and shallow at first, giving you time to adjust. You look up at him and give him a kiss. You slide your tongue into his mouth, and as each second passes, the kiss gets deeper and sloppier. Once he knows you’re adjusted, he starts to fuck into you faster. Harder.

"Oh my fucking—ahh," your moaning gets louder and high-pitched. He fucks into you at a brutal pace. You squirm and moan against him, the desk starts to shake with how rough he's taking you. He grips your chin and tilts your head down, forcing you to watch where you’re connected. He doesn't say anything—just lets out a dark, amused chuckle. Creamy liquid collects at the base of his dick, every thrust pushing more out of you, spreading the mess across your thighs, your ass, the desk.

He releases your chin and you immediately pull him in, clutching at his shoulders, your body shaking with every rough thrust. Every inch of you is on fire, too sensitive, too full.

He moves to hold you by your neck, not tight— just enough for you to feel him. Your moans grow louder—raw, needy, echoing in the room. His hips start to stutter, rhythm faltering as your bodies spiral closer to the edge. Your legs tremble violently, tears streaking down your cheeks. His thumb finds your clit, circling it with practiced pressure until you're right there—barely holding on.

"Gonna cum, sweetheart?" he grunts, hand wrapping around your throat as he slams into you.

"Uh-huh!" you nod frantically, the words barely making it past your lips. The squelch of your soaked pussy fills the air, mixing with your breathless moans. His thrusts get sloppier, harsher, driven by the wet, relentless sound of your bodies colliding.

Your tits bounce with each thrust, your walls clamping down on him, pulsing. He kisses you again—his tongue sliding past your lips to suck on yours like he can’t get enough of your taste.

"König, please—I—" your voice breaks as your orgasm tears through you. You cry out, cumming hard around him, your body jolting, clenching tight.

"M'fuck... there you go," he grunts, his voice thick with pleasure. You barely have time to recover before he rubs your clit again, faster, crueler. Your body thrashes under his, oversensitive and slick with sweat and arousal.

"Filthy girl," he groans. "Cumming all over me."

He lets go of your neck and grabs your chin, forcing you to meet his eyes. His stare burns through you.

"You’d let me fuck you like this all night, wouldn’t you?"

You choke on a moan, trying to pull away, overwhelmed by the overstimulation.

"Ye—yes, König... please cum inside me," you beg. He leans down, lips closing around your nipple, sucking hard while his fingers pull and roll the other. You whimper, feeling him everywhere.

"Shit—come on, pretty. One more," he groans, not letting up. His pace brutal, relentless, as if he couldn't stop himself even if he wanted to. Neither of you care that you’re in the treatment station. That anyone could walk by. That your moans are anything but quiet.

You feel your body seize up again. He groans deep in his chest as he bottoms out, hips jerking as he spills into you—warm, thick, full. You cum with him, your body convulsing one last time.

The room is silent except for the sound of your panting. Sticky, messy, fucked out—you look at each other and smile.

Banners from @enchanthings-a and @sylusz

#— ten desires event! ˚ෆ 𐙚

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