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tonycries · 22 days

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The Family Matter?!

Synopsis. Babyfevér - it’s never felt so good.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Gojo x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, breéding, mentions of kids/ marriage, a LOT of creampíes, Gojo’s powers, cúmplay (like a lot), spítting, overstím, exhíbitionism (Geto’s), chokíng Nanami, pússy-slappíng, proposals, rúts (Choso), bíting, true form! Sukuna, overspill, dp, bondagé, mentions of dàddy kínk, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 5.9k

A/N. To the one anon that wanted this - how did you read my mind?? Hope y’all have a lovely week <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - Santa, baby…

“B-but- Christmas isn’t for another few months, Toji—”

Now, Toji has to admit - that broken, honeyed-out little drag of his name is enough to crack even that tough demeanor of his - just a bit. And it’s all he can do to calm down the raging twitch of his buried cock, driving it deeper and deeper against your mushy g-spot to shut up those dangerous moans of yours.

“B-b-but-” You’re flinching when his deep, baritone voice pitches dramatically high to mock your own, a large palm coming down to give your poor clit a branding smack! “-but, you think that’s gonna stop me, ma?”

Stupidly, you’re whirling your dazed eyes over your shoulder to catch his, only for the calloused pads of his fingers to swiftly force your face back down.

“Not me, you don’t get to hah- look at me just yet, doll.” Toji grits out from behind you, feverish puffs of breath sending goosebumps down your spine. Down to where your puffy cunt was just bulging with all long, solid inches of his swollen, overworked cock. Sloppy. Overspilling. “Not until you’re giving me another brat by Christmas.”

A sob wrenches out of you when Toji jostles his sharp hips against yours. Harder, until you could feel every minute smack of his still-full, sensitive balls, every slosh of his syrupy sticky cum coating your walls from earlier.

“Look.”

You’re shaking your head in almost-bratty protest, the fat of your ass still pushing and pulling against his rugged thrusts. You feel like you could go insane if you saw any more. Thighs twitching to a shy close, “Ngh- can’t s’too- too much.”

This only pulls out a displeased growl from your pussydrunk boyfriend, rasping out a warning. “No fuck- don’t you fucking dare-” Big, beefy hands wrench your legs even farther apart to admire the mess he’s made, bruising where he holds them unable to escape. “Don’t you even think of it, woman.”

It’s accompanied by another harsh slap! on your puffed-up clit, this time harder than the last. Shocking you to your heated core until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes, already-ruined cunt just clenching in painful pleasure.

He laughs - laughs, “Instead of squeezin’ the fucking soul outta me, look here at how you’re wastin’ my cum. How can I make you a momma in time like this, huh?”

You’re blinking away those big, fat globs of tears to finally spy back down again at your drooling cunt. Swollen folds spread shamefully, gaping. Every slam of his hips makes you gush down his achy shaft with a gloss of your sweet sweet juice and his own cum. It splays in a creamy little puddle at your silken sheets, clinging to your bodies like a second, sloppy skin. “Y-you’re so filthy, Toji.”

But Toji couldn’t bring himself to be disgusted - not one bit. In fact, he could feel the tip of his angry head growing even fatter, expanding to meld its way deep into your elastic walls.

“Filthy, huh?” he chuckles so darkly. “Got such a mouth on ya, can already tell you’re gonna be a ah- strict momma.” His fingers are prying your jaw to sag open, whispering so slow and syrupy along your open mouth, “Well, let me tell you a little secret, ma. Doesn’t matter what you call me now, because in about nine months you’ll be calling me something else.”

“And what would- mmpf!” Oh, for how much he loved your sharp mouth, he sure was well and fully intent on shutting you up. Toji’s hitting his cock at the back of your pussy, just mashing deep into your g-spot in sinful sync. Over and over. “-and what would that be?”

Another finalizing smack to your pulsing clit, so smug and messy. He tilts his head to that growing pool below you, splurging farther and farther with each decisive, feral ram. “Your baby daddy, that’s what.”

As if on cue, you’re cumming - you can’t even remember which saccharine sweet high of the night, but all you know is Toji’s gifting your gummy cunt with a few bullying kisses on your ravaged g-spot. Rough, lingering clashes of his weepy tip on your ravaged g-spot, sending your toes curling, white-hot shocks of pleasure. Again and again and again-

“Fuck- fuuuck yeah take it.” he’s grunting out hoarsely, hips stuttering and so so feral. Barely having the sanity to pull out in his jagged half-thrusts, splitting you apart on all his weighty length to cum inside you - deep.

Painting each and every inch of your heavenly cunt that could be reached with coat after coat of velvety white - all the way from where he was gliding his fat tip across your cervix, down, down, down to your sensitive spots, your sopping wide opening. “Want- need it so bad. Need ya to make me a daddy again. So fuckin’ bad you have no idea- you’d be fuckin’ scared.”

Those mean fingers smushing your cheeks into an embarrassing pout dance down to gather the dredges of his own cum, oozing out of the corners of your slit in a milky white sheen. Still rutting into you, he suckles on them languidly like his favorite candy, “Mmpf- as sweet as ever, doll.”

“Y-you’re so fuckin’ mean, Toji-” your jaw slacks open at his lewd actions. “Our kid better not get such an- hah- an awful personality.”

That makes him pause - it makes him pull away his digits, glistening and connected with stringy ropes of the mess he’s made. Grinning for just a split-second before shoving the entire length of his fingers into your plush mouth.

Toji huffs cockily, the rounded tips of his fingers swirl around and around your lolling tongue, addicting you onto the slighty-salted taste. “Our daughter will be lucky to hngh- get my personality n’ your pretty looks.” And you’re barely even lucid when he’s whispering into your sweat-sheened forehead, “So you better give me good news for Christmas this year, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - “Take it, like a good lil’ wife.”

Your mouth is sagging open at Nanami’s uncharacteristically gritted words. So hoarse, pained - like they were dragged out of his raggedly heaving chest with each bullying ram of his hips.

It was barely midway into the evening, and you had no clue how you ended up like this. How those fleeting little titters during your romantic at-home dinner date about kids wound up with Nanami splayed on his broad back on the soft silken sheets. Sculpted abs curving into your back when he nuzzles your neck, plowing his furiously hard cock in his favorite mean full nelson.

“Ha- you’re being so-” you’re gasping out in a wet stutter, ass grinding back onto those neat lanes of blond at his thick base. He’s spearheading you so- “-so mean, Ken.”

“Am, I?” he’s purring, a low rumbling growl from the bottom of his chest. “Well, I might be the stricter parent, that’s right.”

Rolled-up sleeves graze against your heated skin, and you could feel every ridge of the veins along his forearms when he spreads your dangling legs even wider. Jutting his hips so deeply upwards to bow your body to the throbbing curve of his dick. “But, I apologize, darling.” Neat rows of his pearly white teeth sink down on your earlobe, “Feel free to do something- anything about it. Because m’afraid I won’t be able to stop any time soon.”

It was a promise - just the clingy feeling of your walls molding and wetting according to his very shape has him losing his mind. His sanity.

Choking back a long, drawn-out groan when two thick fingers slide down to roll over your puffy clit, “Fuuuck, my love, you’re so- hngh perfect like this.” The bed creaks in protest when his powerful thighs arch even higher upwards, all those hours at the gym paying off when every frenzied mash into the bulging treasure of your g-spot makes your mouth water. He breathes into the intimate crook of your neck, “Though, I bet you’d look even prettier as a momma, right?”

Somehow, that makes your face burn more than being split apart on his relentless cock has.

“Oh- shit.” you whine, fucking your hips back in a sloppy little staccato. Reaching your trembly arm around his strong neck, your fingers find his favorite speckled yellow tie. Yanking until Nanami’s stern lips in a syrupy sweet kiss. “Really wan’ you to hah- breed me, Ken.”

“Fuck- Oh yeah?” he gasps. And if you didn’t know any better then you’d have said that that came out as a fucking whine. The ever-stoic Nanami Kento crumbling bit by bit with each rummaging thrust to shape your gummy walls. “Then why’d it fuck- take so long. Fuck, I’ve been dreaming of this since the ah- day I met you, my girl.”

Sharp hips dig into the plush of your ass with each pivot, it’s bouncing you back and forth along his slobbering cock. So rough. So tall and angry, you’re hit with a steaming hot gush of milky precum every time Nanami’s sliding out of you up to his thick, girthy tip.

“Been thinking about you and I- and a little one. A few, actually. One blonde with your eyes, the other two with mine and your gorgeous smile.” That sweet little admission has your twitchy fingers subconsciously dragging at the heavy fabric of his tie. Tight around Nanami’s straining neck, making his head light and cock twitch wildly to draw little patterns on your cervix. “Fuck! Fuck no- keep pullin’ like that, darling.”

You could feel his raw length rub against sensitive sports you never even knew felt good, in sync with that wandering free-hand of his. Now dancing upwards to glide his touchy thumb over your bouncing tits. “K-Ken, m’so close.”

“How pretty these would look all full of milk, darling.” he muses, sounding more like he’s speaking to himself than anything. Your knees are buckling now, cunt eagerly taking in every powerfully pressurized thrust of his. But Nanami hasn’t had enough of his fill, feeling a burning trail down your arching body. Down the valley of your breasts, your stomach, “And here- where m’gonna fuck-” He’s cutting himself up as his hips slam up into you like with a mind of their own, “-fill you up, make you a momma. Oh, you’d be the best momma. The best.”

He’s fucking you so rough now - so jagged that you’re white-knuckling his tie, reeling him in so close. “And you’d- fuck m’gonna-” you’re sobbing now, over those drawled-out squelches from your velvety cunt. “You’d be the best da-”

You can’t finish your sentence - you couldn’t, because with a few more practiced strokes, you’re cumming all over Nanami’s massive cock. Feeling your elastic walls try to suck him up so hard you wondered whether it didn’t hurt.

But it didn’t - it felt so sinfully good, in fact, that it was only a matter of a few blissful seconds before you’re being filled up with thick globs of his seed. Drooling out of you with each creamy rut into you, your gaping entrance only takes more. Still pounding into you, bottoming out - yet still pushing to give you everything he had to give.

“Sh-shit.” Nanami marvels at the silky ribbons of cum being stuffed inside, the way it slews up with your honeyed slick to form a glistening gloss down both your fronts. “Wait- oh, wait.” Nanami’s trembling cock spurs out a few more overflowing shots of seed at the very thought of what he was about to do. Still stuffed in, he’s reaching over to rustle through the pockets of his dress pants scattered mere inches away from the two of your slick, convulsing bodies on the bed.

You’re jolting when you feel something cold and metallic slide around your left ring finger, “Didn’t think I’d let you be the mother of my kids without a ring, did you, my wife?”

♡ GETO SUGURU - Escape?

“Gorgeous…” Geto’s sultry, slow whisper sends goosebumps running down every inch of your skin. And it’s so soothing - so gentle, and yet- “-doesn’t matter how much you tug, these things won’t let you escape, m’kay?”

A wrenching sob rips from your hoarse throat, and all you can manage to do is tug on those tight, hot-pink handcuffs around your wrists. Pulling to prop your fucked-out body against the very top of his luxurious futon, “S-Sugu, you’re so mean.” Your wide eyes scan the pristine tatami room at his shrine, “Anyone could walk in-”

“And yet you’re still being such a slut, my girl.” He flashes you a rosy red grin, so blindingly pretty that it makes your cunt throb. “Still waiting f’me to breed your pretty pussy. Which would it be? The fifth now?”

Geto doesn’t even have to finish the sentence before you’re abruptly sitting upright, bottom lip wobbling with need. Your swollen pussy is just weeping beads of his cum at this point, sobbing down where he was still buried so eagerly inside your gummy walls. Your thighs shaky in- fear? Anticipation? The need for more?

“Ah ah-” you feel two soft little smacks to the side of your cheek. “Don’t zone out on me just yet, gorgeous. S’this hah- boring for you?” And despite all the pleading shakes of your head, he only plows on, “Aww, what a shame. Guess I just hafta spice things up-”

It’s all the warning you’re getting - barely even - before your poor, weepy cunt is back to being just split apart on his fat head. Not even being eased into it, no care or concern for those overstimulated spasms when he stuffs you full.

“F-fuck-” your eyes are shooting open - when did they even close? - at the sound of nearby footsteps in the hallway behind those sliding doors. Very nearby. “I swear someone’s gonna catch us, Sugu-”

The only sound that rings throughout his humid, heady room is your wet gag - muffled around the pale, slender fingers of his being shoved between your kiss-bitten lips. All you can register are the soft pads of his digits pressing down on the back of your taste buds and the unforgiving little pulses of his prominent veins dragging against your gummy walls.

Leaning down - until he’s so dangerously close, until you could count every long, dark lash on his eyelids, every flex of his muscles - slosh of his syrupy sweet inside you - as he sets a languid, lazy pace. “If someone catches us then I will hngh- jus’ keep going, do not test me, pretty girl.”

The other of his splayed out fingers are drawing methodical, dizzying circles on the very tip of your sensitive clit. Matching his teasing place, every grazing nudge of his leaky tip coating your bruising g-spot.

“Haven’t I already told ya not to start things you c-can’t finish?” Geto’s husky voice is talking you through every clingy thrust. Falling from his pretty lips with each deep snap, fucking you into the drenched futon leisurely like some cocksleeve. “N’ what did you do, hm?”

You couldn’t answer if you wanted to - because Geto’s fingers were still firmly swiping around your tongue. Murmuring, “Exactly that. Just had to make that fuckin’ hah- stupid little joke about me not being able to handle another daughter, huh?”

“Mmpf- hngh Sugur-” you try to moan out at a low thump! outside, but he’s shushing you pliantly quiet with a ragged pump into your womb. Making you gush velvety ribbons of his previous cum.

“Heh, think this cunt actually wants to get out of this without being bred?” It was true, your painted-white walls were just clinging elastically to Geto’s shaft every time he drove into you, sucking up every bit of him like you’re trying to milk out something delicious. Again.

“And guess what?” he’s so crazed now, eyes glowing with a dark delight. Hips pistoning into yours with fearsome accuracy to smash over and over into the bullseye of your sensitive spot. Sloppier. The shuffling outside getting louder. So unfairly good that you’re barely registering his next words, “M’jus’ gonna breed this slutty pussy until you give me another. Until everyone knows you’re my slut.”

It only takes one, two, three more drilling clashes with your g-spot for you to fall apart once more.

Your own orgasm bursts out of you. Squirting in glistening dredges again and again until it’s just a few fatiguing shocks of pleasure that have you heaving for air, whining Geto’s name like a mantra. The overstimulation too much, his twitching cock too big - over and over-

“F-fuuuuck- squirting all over, y’made such a mess.” Geto’s moan is so pornographic when that angry divot at his flushed head explodes with spurts of thick hot cum. So addictively sweltering against your plush walls, it floods into your womb, down your thighs - to your lungs it almost feels like. “Gonna give me another daughter? Yeah?” He breathes, head thrown back while he stuffs you too-full, until he could see the seeping white on your creamy cunt in his glassy peripheral vision. And he still isn’t done cumming - thinning out to mere sticky wisps. “Gonna make you so full- so swollen. Until everyone looks at you and knows what I did- how I defiled you. They’ll look at you and see me. Me, me, me, me-”

There’s such an animalistic cadence in the way he’s rutting into you, pushing you further and further up those drenched sheets. Just dragging your body forwards with one strong arm around your handcuffs when his sheer volume gets too much that you’re trying to pathetically escape.

Thump!

In a split-second, Geto’s grabbing at a hidden dagger from underneath his robes. Throwing - dead straight through the paper doors - only for a loud thud! to echo from outside. “Bet the scum outside don’t even need to hear the pregnancy announcement, huh?”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - My strange addiction

Oh, there’s nothing you loved more than Choso losing control - around the time of year when the weather grows a little warmer, when your sweet boyfriend becomes a little more restless. Those dark, dewy eyes of his turning black with something primal, desperate.

Ingrained in his blood to breed you. To do nothing but breed you.

Like right now.

“Oh?” you’re purring with a coy bat of your lashes, looking over your shoulder to where he was looming. Flushed, gulping, absolutely drunken off your heady scent. “On your rut again, Cho?”

And that makes his entire body jolt, as if zapped by a sudden wave of electricity. Large, trembly hands fist your thin shirt to pin you down like some ragdoll onto the cool kitchen counter. Breath hitching, such a pained grunt leaves him at the sound of his name leaving those pretty lips of yours.

Almost guiltily, he’s baring a wet gasp, “Y-yes. Saw you makin’ ah- makin’ us dinner in the kitchen and-” It’s like he hasn’t even realized what he was doing, slapping his raw cock against your drooling slit with each word. Smack! Smack! Smack! “-and- I just thought about how- just needed to…”

But alas, Choso doesn’t get to finish a single thought - because you’re stepping up onto your tip-toes - ever-so-slightly. Feeding your needy cunt with just the round girth of his very tip.

“Just needed to what, Cho?” you hum, quirking a devilish brow his way, holding back a keen at the sheer stretch of him around your sopping entrance. “Or do you wanna stop?”

Fuck, Choso swears he could feel his overworked balls squeeze so painfully at the very thought. “No-” he’s hissing, glassy gaze widening almost comically. “No no no no no- please no. please, please this is all I want.”

With a sultry giggle, you reach behind to pull him roughly by his soft strands. Choso’s grunting out hoarsely, letting himself be dragged to clash his lips against your bruised ones in such a sloppy kiss. All tongue and teeth, he drinks you in like a man depraved. “All you ever want is to just hah- fuck me in this kitchen, Cho?”

It’s so cute the way he’s sputtering dazedly into your sagging mouth, such a sweet whiny cry of, “Yes but no- fuck, I jus’ wanna–” The slow drag of his heavy tongue coats the crook of your neck in his saliva, hammering his swollen cock upwards until he was practically lifting you off the ground with sheer inhuman force. “Jus’ wanna breed you full, baby. Breed this pretty pussy like m’meant to.”

It’s with an almost-animalistic type of worship that Choso’s just ramming the rest of his thick cock into you until he’s spearheading straight into your spongy g-spot, weighty balls - painful, and ready for breeding - smacking against your ass. Addicted.

“O-oh, fuck–” you can’t stop your honeyed gasps. “You’re s-so big- so hard even after just this morning? What a naughty boy.”

Just slamming you down onto the cool marble,“Fuck- fuck fuck y’know what I imagined when I hah- saw you in the kitchen?” Such throaty groans drag along with each and every plunge into your slobbering pussy, Choso was always so talkative when he was like this. Slurring out a mile a minute, “Saw my pretty wife, the pretty mother of my kids.”

And you knew what he was going to say, but that doesn’t stop you from milking him so tight, velvety walls contracting in a way that almost made it difficult to maintain his sloppy staccato. Back arching into such a slutty bow to drag even needier down his drilling length

But your beloved boyfriend still wasn’t done, kissing away hotly at the corner of your mouth. “N’ s’not jus’ the hngh- rut talking either. Fuuuuck-” All six feet of his muscled body pins you to the counter, and distinctly, you could feel him scramble desperately to buck up a knee to angle his hips even deeper. “Saw you makin’ breakfast before school, and I’m- hngh- and I’m getting the kids ready - a boy and a girl, both as gorgeous as you.”

“Y-yeah?” Is all you can breathe out, “What- hngh- what else?”

You didn’t expect his humorless chuckle - broken, and a few pitches higher than normal. “What else?” His eyes are absolutely crazed now, and he’s biting down on your pouty lower lip. “Oh what didn’t I see?”

Bowing till you could feel every ripple of his abs against your back. Every slow tremor of his glossy head nudging past your defenses, hitting deep at the bottom of your g-spot. It takes a few more sloppy pumps for you to realize that Choso’s still speaking.

“Saw the wedding- saw the first birth, the way I cried-” The way he was crying now, ragged, overstimulated tears dripping down his pretty cheeks. Panting out wetly, “-what a great momma you are, the best. The way I help you hngh- milk these p-pretty tits when it’s too much. But my most favorite of all-”

You don’t hear the rest - and he doesn’t tell you, because he’s too busy cumming. Cumming and cumming so much that Choso thinks he can’t stop, swollen base rummaging deep inside to plug up those thick ropes of hot seed inside. It was impossible that he hadn’t achieved his dream with this.

It’s bloating you up, too much. Spilling out of those little gaps at the dips and ridges of his twitchy cock that your inner thighs cover in a clingy white sheen.

Drawn on instinct, you can only scream when Choso’s sharp canines bite down on the sensitive spot at your neck. Hard enough to draw blood - and, if you two were in any better state of mind, you’d have noticed that he did draw blood.

A thin saturation of heady red coating his devilish grin, delicate strings of spit still connect to the mating mark. “-my favorite was when we made another.”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - DOUBLE STUFFED!

“One more.”

“Kuna-”

“One more.”

When all you’re getting is that leeringly dangerous grin - the very same one he gifts any weak curses just about to be killed at his feet - you know there’s no way you’re getting out of this. Either you take it - or he makes you.

Gliding your palms across Sukuna’s bulging pecs, your trembly legs twitch atop his muscled thighs. Gingerly jutting along where your poor cunt was being split apart on his twin bulgingly hard cocks. Up and down up and down up and-

“S’too much-” you’re whining, feeling the gush of his sticky cum coat down your thighs. Oozing out of your bloated cunt with every syrupy sweet bounce of his ravaging cocks. “I- not enough space-”

Any you were about to stupidly babble out is cut off when Sukuna wraps five thick digits around your exposed neck, intentionally dipping his sharp nails to leave branding little divots right about your racing pulse. A warning. A punishment. “Did I tell ya to keep runnin’ that hah- mouth, brat?” he spits, waiting for you to shake your head deliriously “no” before grinning. “Then why am I hearing so much t-talking n’ not enough of this slutty lil’ cunt of yours taking one more? You hear that?”

All that was ringing in your ears was the honeyed echoes of squelches from below, smacking and slapping in sync with your pathetic movement.

“Exactly.” Sukuna’s snapping you out of your thoughts, one hand resting at the glistening plush of your hips, the other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you just slobber down his angry, red shafts. Glossing over him all the way from those fat tips to the creamy ring around his base. “Wastin’ too much of my hngh- cum with yer talkin’, brat. How are ya gonna have time to carry my seed?”

And he’s so large - so strong. Not even breaking a sweat when he’s getting up from his decadent throne with you boneless in his arms, still stuffing your cunt full with all greedy inches of both cocks.

“O-oh, fuck, Kuna!” you’re squealing when gravity pulls you down until you could feel the scratch of his pink happy trail against the sensitively grazed areas of your skin. The dizzying push of two matchingly massive girths stretching your gummy walls to its limits. Your nails draw jagged red line down his tan skin, trying to keep just an ounce of your sanity together, “Fuck you’re in so hngh- deep.”

“Easy on the back there.” Sukuna’s rolling his eyes, but he can’t deny the way his heart clenches at the way you’re so fucked-out and easily sliding down his cock like some pretty sex toy. Whimpering about some baby names.

Not like it mattered, anyway. He’d name the little devilspawn whatever you wanted - after fighting about it for the fun of it. Heh, he always has been soft on you, huh?

All it takes is one hand holding you up, another to toy with the sensitive nub of your clit. Rolling and teasing you even deeper into his arms while another still rests firmly around your throat.

The remaining hand? At Sukuna’s favorite place cupping your teary cheek, gliding away those big fat tears with the cure of his soft thumb, “Shh shhh, you can take it. You’re my pretty lil’ queen, right?”

Even his mind a hot melted mess on your dripping cunt. Just fucking into you ruthlessly, up, up, up till he was bulging at the very back of your cunt. One fat tip firmly kissing your g-spot, the other gliding in a silky smooth cadence against your poor cervix.

Matching veins rubbing matching sensitive spots, rendering you so awfully dumb on his cocks. Mixing with the hypnotic splattering of his seed against the velvet of your walls, it’s impossible to not feel like you’re about to fucking burst.

Intertwining your fingers with his much longer ones on your face, you’re dragging them to rest at that palpable little nudge along the middle of your stomach. Pressing down to make him feel where he was buried deep, hiccuping lewdly, “You’re right here, Kuna. S’gonna be- hngh! impossible to not give you an heir.”

An heir.

And fuck he couldn’t take it anymore - if anything even fucking heard about this, they’d faint.

Because with a shuddering gasp, the king of curses was just dragging your weight down his cocks - over and over - to gloss your insides with each new coat of the thick, syrupy cum weeping out of his angry heads. So overfilled, but still greedily swallowing everything Sukuna gives.

“Fuck-.” With an angrily strained growl, Sukuna only speeds up his motions on your clit. Methodical. Urgent, even. Still fucking him seed deeper to smash his quivering tips at your g-spot. Both - two divots pressurizing you at the same time. “How dare you make me cum first, woman. Think you’re soo fucking funny, huh? Better give me hundreds of lil’ hellspawn to make up for it.”

“N-noo-” you croon, but that limp little curl of your lips at the abundance of seed seeping out of you gives you away. It was so unlike him - so startling to spy the blushing rouge at his ears, the way his fat balls smack and only squeeze harder when you milk every drop. So hot, and splattering right down both of your legs, forming a creamy puddle at his floor. “I didn’t-”

You don’t finish your sentence, you can’t. Because with all of his brute strength, Sukuna is just wrenching that orgasm from your grasp - fucking you over and over through your high.

The puddle only grows wider. And there’s no warning before he spits, once. Twice. Right onto the middle of the overwhelmed taste-buds on your tongue, gently shutting your mouth with one hand. The other spreading your puffy pussy lips to let you drool a glossy coat of cum down his front. Making a mess.

“S’inauspicious, y’know. Having the momma cum first-” He’s gruffing, sure you were still crashing into wave after wave of pleasure to even hear his whines. “-so why don’t you give me one more?”

♡ GOJO SATORU - Meet the Gojos

“Toru- we’ll get caught.”

“Shut up- fuck- shut up.” Gojo’s face was ashen, grinning so dangerously at the sight of you completely and utterly bound into that obscene mating press he loved so much. Your pretty pussy at the perfect angle for him to hammer his achy cock so thoroughly into you. “S’not what this cute cunt is sayin’ though, sweetheart.”

Fuck, if you were in any better state of mind, you’d have smacked him maybe. But you knew right by the glowingly amused tinty in his blue eyes that he was waiting for that to happen - goading even.

You’re whining hotly, fingernails digging sharply into the winding wooden desk rested cool beneath your skin. “The- the elders are about to have a- hngh! meeting in here soon and-”

Gojo’s lips curl when your breath hitches, feeding you each and every one of his merciless inches over and over- “Well then it’s damn good that they’ve been bugging me for an heir, dontcha think~?”

You’re letting your drooling maw fall slack in disbelief - only to create the perfect opening for your boyfriend to catch you into a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss. Spitting out little profanities with each harsh push of his fat gliding tip across the slippery slopes of your walls. “Heh, always so fuuuck- cute when you’re fucked dumb on my cock.” he’s chuckling, mouth looser than usual with the way the tight channel of your cunt is sucking out every one of his honest thoughts - his soul. “But ya needa get more firm, I’m gonna be the fun parent.”

It takes another harsh snap! of those toned hips bruising against your ass for you to jump back into your heady reality.

“T-Toru…” you’re murmuring, but it comes out so much more breathless than you wanted. Catching on to that syrupy, fucked-out tone of yours, Gojo takes the opportunity to ram his swollen length even meaner into your slobbering cunt. Wringing out your narrow hole to mold around the exact shape of his massive dick. “We- ngh! We’ve got to set an example.”

You feel the fat girth of his shaft grow two sizes even bigger at your scolding. Bulging those two prominent veins down the middle to imprint onto your gummy walls. The roaming point of his glossed-over head pressing straight onto your g-spot, making you writhe underneath him. Bucking up for more more more-

A pale, splayed-out palm slams! down onto the creaky mahogany right beside your head, and when you’re batting your dazed gaze up you see-

Oh.

Oh fuck - forget setting an example, you were about to be made one.

Because Gojo’s blue irises were sparking with tiny rods of lightning, teeth bared in such an amusedly feral grin that it made your cunt ache.

“Fuck-” even his voice sounded deeper - raspier, cracking ever-so-slightly with need near the end. “Fuck, you can’t talk shit to me about ‘setting examples’ when you get so fuckin’ wet just because I play a little rough.”

Playing a little rough was an understatement - and both of you knew it. Because if Gojo was simply toying with your sanity before, then he was well and fully intent on breaking it right now. Right along with your poor pussy with those bludgeoning, harsh thrusts you were being gifted with.

The expansion of his weighty cock has you squealing with each powerful slam, “Fuck- fuck you little-”

“Hunk? Absolute catch?” he grins, voice dropping to a low husky drawl. A slick little trail of drool dips down the corner of his mouth already with every cracking beg and plea, followed by a series of lingering grinds - not even thrusts, just slow, shallow swerves to feel you tighten wetly around his hot shaft. The lights flicker above, “Father of your kids?”

That makes you wrack in a sinful shudder, words tumbling out before your syrupy sweet brain could compute them, “You’d make a- a good daddy, Toru.”

Crack!

It’s happening in a split-second - a stuttering gasp catches in Gojo’s throat, those baby blue eyes going wide. Glowing. In the distance, your popping ears catch the sharp shattering of that prized vase in the corner of the room.

But right now it felt like you were the one about to break - because ribbons and ribbons of Gojo’s hot, potent seed were knocking on the door to your womb. Splurging in thick dredges to stuff you full from the inside out.

“Fuck- fuck, you evil evil woman.” Gojo breathes out, the only thing he could seem to do at this very moment. When the tethering clenches of his balls have tapered out, he’s pulling out to smack! the length of his throbbing, red shaft on your clit. Mouth hanging open at the way just buckets of his own cum gush out of your tight hole. “Shit- m’gonna breed this cute cunt. Gonna fill her up until you’re so round and swollen.” he’s babbling, gliding pale fingers across the sloshing cum now seeping onto the desk to shove it back inside.

“Fuuuck- m’gonna breed her till she hah- doesn’t know what it’s like to not be stuffed full. Until you’re giving me a cute lil’ blue-eyed baby.” Crackling with jujutsu energy, he’s smack down on your puffy cunt - hard! “Until m’not the strongest. Not even second- or third or fourth or fifth-” kissing your pouty lips in addicted little pecks. “-no. S’gonna be my- our kids. All ours.”

“Ngh! Toru–” you’re whining, only taking another few messy swivels on your cunt before you cum. And you swear, the lights go out at this very moment - the only thing you can see being Gojo’s flickers of purple jujutsu and his gleamingly white grin.

He smacks another hand down on that wooden meeting desk - the now broken desk, standing wearily on only three legs - and the puddle of cum seeping below you. “Think we’ll be excused from the meeting? Because m’not done with you just yet, ma.”

A/N. Yuh I had two Kendrick references I apologize (I don’t).

Plagiarism not authorized.

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dmitriene · 1 month

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cw: consensual somnophilia.

somnophilia with simon riley, the way you look laying on your side, limbs stretched peacefully and your lips open in soft snores, cradled against his broad chest with your leg draped around his thick thigh, humming something sleepily when he strokes his fingers against your delicate skin.

wearing nothing but some of your comfortable cotton panties and his shirt, looking domestically like that, sweetest ever with your eyes still closed in peaceful sleep when his thick fingers brush against your clothed pussy, tracing your folds that is hugged by the fabric, suddenly growing wet.

you're still loose, you two fallen asleep towards the dawn because of simon's unsated hunger for you, making you still slick beneath your panties and far from resisting when simon's fingers creep beneath the cotton to stroke at your puffy folds, fingers moving against your slit, collecting the strings of slick to plunge his digits carefully into your warm hole.

checks on your reaction, seeing how your brows scrunch slightly and you moan breathlessly, before lolling your head aside and continuing to snore gently, as he pumps his fingers slowly in your pussy, feeling how it makes you even wetter, squelching softly as your breath hitch and gummy walls tighten.

simon's cock is already swollen when he bobs out, getting rid of his boxers briefs to pump at his leaking length couple of times, coating the veiny girth in tacky precum before he moves your panties aside, fingers holding onto thin fabric gently, gripping at your hip bone as he guides his tip to prod against your clenching hole.

you swallow him to the brim, thin silken walls stretching to accommodate his size, as they latch around his veiny cock once he starts to pump into you cautiously, eyes directed on your relaxed face as he exhales harshly, shuddering at the feel of your pulsing warmth, sopping with slick.

he coats your neck in a wet, messy kisses, rubbing his nose against your skin as he humps your pussy, thrusts sloppy, too overwhelmed by the feel of you as his muscles constrict, stomach rising and falling heavily when his cock throbs and jerks against your spongy spot, grinding into the sensitive spot so you'll cum alongside him.

it takes a couple of minutes and his calloused thumb rubbing uneven circles to your little nub, making you writhe with sleepy whimpers, before your walls seize around his throbbing cock, clamping tight with gushing, creamy slick as he presses his hips against your ass, head tilting back with stiffled growls as he fills you full.

letting his thick seed coat your fluttering walls, as you groggily wake up, eyes fluttering open with hazy veil, strained whimper escaping your lips as his cock pulsates again, dribbling last drops of cum in you, before simon rolls to slump beside you, cradling your limp body back against his chest, cooing that he's sorry for waking you up and you can sleep for longer.

and you do, cuddling as close as possible to nuzzle below his chin, closing your eyes back and enjoying the way he strokes his fingers up and down your spine, his cock still cockwarmed by your fluttering walls, keeping his cum from leaking out of you, as he nuzzles your head and dozes off too.

main masterlist. quidelines.

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ausrache · 3 months

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𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐈𝐃 — 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐈'𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 ( 𝟏 / ? )

general: these tattoos are recent additions & definitely not the last ones to be done. mali generally thinks that body modifications are gorgeous & does plan on adding more. most of these tattoos are in a style that comes close to cyber sigilism. she enjoys this style simply due to it looking somewhat abstract; it also suits her alternative clothing style the most. first row, left to right: the first & second tattoos are actually one piece & flow into one another. this was her first tattoo ever & can be found on the upper half of her left arm; it shows a flying whale in space. the third one is an homage to her rabbit 'moon' & can be found on her right ankle. second row, left to right: the next two were done in one session & do not carry any specific meaning except for the fact that they simply looked amazing & complimented her style quite well. it's also just generally quite similar to eldritch sigils. the last one is her recent addition & was added after ROUGE's latest successful comeback & can be found on her right thigh. the butterfly is supposed to represent her group.

#* ∙ ʚ ɞ ◞ 𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓 ❮ honor in vengeance. ❯#* ∙ ʚ ɞ ◞ 𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❮ silken veil of black & moonlit skin. ❯#* ∙ ʚ ɞ ◞ 𝐎𝐎𝐂 ❮ queue. ❯#tw irl person

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janumun · 2 months

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Misty Affections [The L&DS Boys - NSFW]

Rated: NSFW/18+ 🌶️ (Take note of all warnings before you proceed) Pairings: L&DS Men/Reader Word Count: 6k+

Tags: polyandry/polygamy, bath/shower friskiness, multiple orgasms, oral, anal and vaginal sex, body worship, porn with little plot, double penetration, consensual somnophilia, edging, passing hints of breeding, scent kink

Summary: At the eve of your anniversary, you let the men, most precious to your heart, show you exactly how they love and cherish you. Slow and measured. Piece by piece.

Author’s Notes: I have been driven so insane ever since the drop of that crazy trailer, all I’ve been able to fantasize about are these beautiful men. Did so individually at first before they eventually converged within my mind into this behemoth romantic-sexy fest. (If you know me or my stories, you know I cannot go a second breathing without a little love in my sex LOL)

This one’s for all my harem loving folks who’ve been left thirsty after the “Misty Invasions” trailer. Happy reading!

You oscillate at the entrance to the penthouse suite, fingers tracing the sleek outline of the key card your boyfriend had provided you with, earlier; eager gaze skittering back towards the door. Heart within your throat and a swarm of butterflies flittering within the base of your stomach.

An entire year had passed you by; the day of your relationship anniversary upon you now. And you’d decided amongst you, in distinct words and heated whispers, that you’d make it a day well worth commemorating.

You smile at the recollection of Sylus’ amused gaze — blood-red garnet — as it had met your surprised one, a few days prior. He’d had you search up his entire house for an elusive Mephisto, on the pretence of having lost sight of him. Finding him at last, perched atop the silken pillows of his bed. And held within his beak, a sleek black card the bird had let drop into your palm, obedient, before taking flight.

A key access to the penthouse suite of one of the most luxurious hotels in Linkon City.

Sylus had tugged you close — his warm breath, a sweet caress against the shell of your ear — stating the date and time for you to be there, without questions asked. Your heart had thrilled at the time in nervous anticipation.

Just as it does now as you move to hoist your umbrella — damp still from the outpour outside — onto your arm, clutching a bouquet of flowers close to your chest.

Reaching to swipe your card, at long last, against the room’s digital pad—

Before the door sways open on its own. Your gaze skipping, immediate, to meet the owner’s: scarlet, warm in amused affection. “How much longer were you planning to dither at the door?” His hand curves about yours as he steers you inside. Reaching to help you out with your coat and umbrella.

“How did you even—”

Sylus angles his face in mute indication, at the door, just in time for you to catch sight of Mephisto sweeping across the hallway, disappearing just as swift around a corner, with a triumphant crow.

“I am going to cook that bird one of these days,” you mutter, discomfited at the thought of Sylus having been standing privy to your entire vacillation session outside.

A large hand curls about your jaw, insisting your gaze upwards, just as you feel the heat of Sylus’ mouth on yours. “Don’t fret any longer,” his lips brushing each word right against yours. Every stroke tending sparks of fire against your skin. “you’ll make me want to tease you. And I promised them I’d be kind to you today.” The thick baritone of his quiet laughter sinks, hot, into your chest; down into the depths of your belly.

Your hand curves about the back of his neck, heaving that infuriating mouth back against yours. “Please do be quiet for once.” Fingers grazing at the base of his hair before they card upwards, tugging at the strands.

His mouth pulls into a wider smile, just as you all but force the large bouquet of flowers you still carry, against the firm expanse of his chest.

“Happy anniversary, Sylus.” You murmur softly, flushed gaze fixated upon the flowers — snowdrops and lilies, roses and clematis — a representation of each of their colours that had painted your life brighter, over the course of your years together. You truly hoped your boyfriends would love them.

Garnet gaze narrowing in quiet affection, Sylus coaxes your attentions back to him with a call of your name. “And to you.”

“Now,” He winds an arm about your waist, dragging you flush against his torso. “let me find a place for these beauties while you go hop into the shower. You’re cold to the touch.” And when you move to protest, he silences it with a delicate brush of his thumb against your lip before he too bows forwards, to murmur, just shy of your mouth. “I promise you won’t miss me long, sweetheart.”

Leaving you in the stewing solace of your own indecent thoughts.

Your relieved exhale breaks in soft wisps of white curling into the air, well comforted by the heat of your quick shower. Your eyes drifting absently towards the bath you’d drawn, your favourite scent now permeating the space of your bathroom.

Petals rippling across the surface of placid warm waters; you knew how your artist appreciated the romanticism of your relationship. When you let yourself go and allowed yourself free expression of your adoration, for your Lemurian beloved. The colour, it never failed to bring flush to his cheeks at your simple gestures of affection, he so deserved. He had waited, and for so long.

A mere speck of his patience, against your current restless wait, ever since his message had lighted your screen earlier this evening, indicating he’d be there to join you, soon.

Sooner, you whisper into the air, slinking a cautious hand down the line of your stomach and towards your mound.

It was so incredibly difficult to have all your lovers, gathered together in one place, owing to how busy each of you were with your respective schedules. Tonight, hence, was a rare, precious occasion and you intended to make the most of it.

“Why so distracted.” A deep voice resonates at your back; a swift curl of pulsating red capturing your wrist before your fingers have the chance to brush in between your legs. Heaving your wrist up and back, depositing it prisoner into Sylus’ waiting palm. “You barely noticed me.” The roughened pads of his digits graze at the tender skin of your wrist in soft warning, before he lets go. “Couldn’t wait even a moment for me, huh?”

You turn to face him, a puckish smile you know is already teasing at the corners of your mouth. “Just engaging in some personal time.”

Sylus stands before you, body bare, save for the towel that keeps him from you, wrapped about his waist. A sturdy arm reaches past your shoulder, turning the shower off. Motions entirely unhurried. Deceptively tranquil, you do not miss the blood-red heat that simmers at the edges of that observing gaze.

“Oh?” He crowds you a step closer into the wall. Your fingers coast in tense anticipation about the knot of his towel. “You wouldn’t mind if I turned that into a private time for two, would you, kitten?”

You put on a deliberate show of pondering the question; a patient raised brow your lover keeps focused upon you.

Until you tip a coquettish gaze his way and answer. “I suppose I would no—” Your response, Sylus pilfers from your tongue before you can utter it, pulsing a quick kiss of violence against your lips.

Your digits impatiently work to release him from the final confines of his towel, absently tossing it aside. And onto the gnarled vines of red lurking at the edges of your vision, immediately reach to snatch up the cloth, discarding it into a wash bin close by.

Laughter in between heavy breaths; coveting fingers, free at last, skate down the strength of his thighs, skimming past his stiff arousal. A small gasp of appreciation you break against his mouth just as Sylus lurches his hips forward, once, into your grasp to better let you admire the effect you have on him.

“It’s been too long.” you murmur into the space he spares you in between wet kisses.

“Darling,” he exhales; a small, rough sound of pleasure. “Not yet.”

Sylus’ hands stir down the length of your body, fingers finding target, and pulsing into the soft of your ass before you can try and bribe your case with him, to give you what you want. Hefting you up entirely onto the corded strength of his arms, stifling your sound of surprise against his mouth.

He bids you wrap your legs about his waist, as he walks you both over towards the luxurious bath. “Now,” Settling down into the warm, scented water, he eases you back against himself. “Let us get you washed properly.”

You eventually relent and let him do as he pleases for the next several minutes.

Drifting a careful hand about the expanse of your legs, you try not to squirm too much when that devious hand skirts about your inner thighs. Across the arc of your clavicle, down the slope of your breastbone. His palms bear down against your abdomen in provocative press-release motions. You're not quite sure what kind of bathing Sylus assumes he’s doing except just keying you higher, the longer you endure his hands upon you.

Hands that grow unrepentant and bold with time, the self-pleased skew of those infuriating lips following soon after, down the slope of your neck, along the curve of your shoulder. You tip your face sideways, smoothing a quick kiss onto his jaw. “You keep this up any longer and you’re going to have an incredibly frustrated woman on your hands.”

He buries his grin into your shoulder.

“And I’m not sure what I’ll do then.” you threaten mildly.

“Is that so? I’d certainly like to see you try.” He accepts your provocation.

You reach an arm up, winding it about his neck. Fingers splaying against the damp brush of his hair as you angle your head up and he obliges, head canting for your mouth to catch against his. His tongue sweeps against yours in immediate insistence, your eager allowance in the slack fall of your mouth as he presses into you.

Sylus’ indolent digits change tune then; a large palm he curves about the weight of your breast and squeezes. The roughened pads of them toying at the pert apex, until he coaxes your moans out for himself.

The muted click of a lock sounds within your surroundings; quiet, save for the gentle ripples of water and your damp sounds of pleasure.

“Ah,” Sylus murmurs in between kisses. “He’s here now. We would’ve ended up using the little princeling’s entire bath for ourselves if he’d turned up any later.”

A thrill of pleasure and adoring desire crests itself within your chest, calling your approaching beloved’s name on a long sigh of pleasure Sylus wrenches out of you. “That’s it, sweetheart, tempt him on higher sounds next.”

Restless within his lap, you wrench your mouth away from his, raising yourself onto your knees to turn, capturing him in between your thighs.

Just as Rafayel steps past the threshold of the baths, appearing to be in the midst of wresting himself out a long sodden shirt. You absently muse how he must’ve forgotten to carry an umbrella with him, yet again, out on one of his painting expeditions, despite your reminder to him just last night. “It’s pouring crazy out there and I’m drenched to the bone—”

His words nicked mid-sentence with the slow rise of those bluish-florid eyes — taking in the lascivious scene in front — along with your thoughts torn into jagged shards of pleasure with the firm catch of Sylus’ teeth against your breast. A large hand he splays at your back, enticing you closer into his mouth.

Your eyes, refusing to stray from Rafayel’s, even as he remains rooted to the threshold. A flush beginning to colour against the arch of his cheeks to witness how Sylus augments your pleasure further underneath his enraptured gaze.

Pleased joy ripples through you, to be putting on a tantalising show for your beloved Lemurian, entreating him closer on soft sighs and broken moans of his name.

“Please,” your next gasp of pleasure scatters under the prick of stimulated tears. “Rafayel, my heart, come to me.”

And like a beautiful marionette pulled upon by its strings, he obeys your request, striding towards the two of you. Bestowing mercy upon your poor heart, you feel, could pound right out of your chest.

He tips downwards, long, graceful digits sweeping delicate beneath the cut of your jaw to raise. Brushing a sweet kiss of greeting against your mouth. “I’m here, beloved.”

Fingers refusing to cease his exploratory touches, his thumb glides past your cheeks, dusting right beneath your eyes at stray tears.

“Welcome home,” you greet, your own fingers curving about his jaw in hazy affection.

“You’re late,” Sylus speaks, his hand trekking a careful path about the flare of your hip.

Rafayel frowns at that. “I know. Not like I didn’t try to be here sooner.” Fingers tinkering at his belt buckle before he slides it, smooth out of its confines. Your eager hands reaching to assist, rushing down the line of buttons at his shirt, divesting him of his impediments.

“You’re freezing, Rafayel.” You observe, palms pressed up against his naked abdomen.

He catches one of your hands within his, feathering a kiss onto your knuckles. “Warm me, then.” An irrefutable instruction as much as it is his soft request.

Relieved entirely of his clothes, he steps into the bath, fingers entwining against yours in a firm hold, coaxing you onto his body instead.

“You're so cosy.” He appreciates in between hungering kisses. “Share more of your heat with me.” The soft squish of your breasts mould against the solid expanse of his chest the deeper you try and press against the other, your arms encased about his neck, fingers carding greedily through the wet strands of his hair.

Rafayel shifts your positions, guiding you back against Sylus’ chest by your threaded digits. The hard heat of Sylus’ cock presses against the cleft of your ass as Rafayel drives you further in by the urgency of his kisses.

His bond shimmers to life — a scarlet vow — right above his heart, your own thrilled by the rapidly dissipating chill of his body, replaced with passionate warmth.

“I’ve missed you.” He drags your intertwined digits closer, directing your hand to press against the thrumming of his heart. “And especially today, being so important. I wanted to be next to you for the entirety of it.”

Rafayel’s eyes, misted in desire and affection so acute, your breath catches at your throat at the sheer intensity of it. He secretes a gentle kiss into the fold of your palm. “I want us to make this a memorable anniversary.”

“You already are.” You keen softly, in assurance, fingers stroking down the length of Sylus’ thigh. “I desire you both so very much right now.”

He returns your fervent regard in the thick digits that skim past the curve of your spine, fingering in sparing strokes at the rim of your ass. You gasp at the sensation, body clenching in on the emptiness it has long been subjected to.

You need them both; the carnal strength of your want winds you breathless.

Sylus had left you suspended upon a torturous precipice for so long, you weren’t sure how much longer you could hold on for.

“Hey,” Rafayel prompts.

Garnet binds immediately spring to life, streaking towards the bottles lined up neat atop a marble slab. Plucking one up as if by rote memory, before depositing it into Rafayel’s grasp. “As our princeling desires,” Sylus speaks; the raw amusement you can hear within his words.

Rafayel’s response is all but a raised brow — they have learned to synchronize well against each other, you realize with a shaky exhale. You are glad, as you are nervous, for the state of your body; the havoc they wreck onto you, once your boys are in tandem.

The lubricant well-smeared across Rafayel’s digits, he reaches in between your bodies to run his fingers against the same place Sylus does, two sets of different fingers they ease, gentle, into your ass. Rafayel’s low groan of pleasure, you lunge forwards to drink against your lips.

“I need—” you cry out against him, just as Rafayel withdraws from you entirely to leave Sylus to press his fingers deeper into you, a slow, caressing slide; eased by their gentle loosening of your hole.

Rafayel hums a low, euphoric sound. “Do you need him deep inside you, my love?”

“Yes.”

“You’re almost there for me, sweetheart. Breathe.” Sylus’ grunt of approval at your compliance, he drowns into a relishing bite at your shoulder.

Rafayel’s mouth descends upon your breasts, pulsing open mouthed kisses right above the expanse of your thundering heart, his fingers finding their way towards your neglected slit, mercifully pressing into you. A loud, broken moan wrenched out of your throat, pleasure now far palpable after having been edged for so long.

“You’re so wet. So very captivating when you are like this.”

“I love you, Rafayel.” you gasp, tears gathering at your eyes to feel so full of them both.

He pulses a kiss against your mouth in heated devotion, tongue warming against yours in between urgent breaths, “I am yours. Call for me, my beloved bride.”

“Rafayel.”

“Ah. Once more, so I know I am entirely yours to have.” he entreats, gaze heated.

His fingers gather pace — in tandem with Sylus’ controlled assault — striking rhythmic against your frontal walls on each thrust. A spot he gathers at, one that incinerates itself against his adept motions, insistent thumb gliding its touches about the sweet area of your apex, hurtling you faster towards a vehement finish.

“And that you are mine. Call my name, call for me.”

“Rafayel, my Rafayel.” And you tumble over the edge at that final delightfully sensual push, quivering nerveless, in between your lovers.

“There’s more of where that came from, kitten. Don’t give up on us now.” Sylus coaxes, extracting himself from the instinctual clench of your body, whimpering at the keen emptiness of his loss.

“Give yourselves to me,” you beg, “I need to feel you inside me.”

“And you shall have us,” Rafayel soothes, pressing the head of his cock against you.

“As many times as you need.” Sylus allows; the swell of his arousal striking heavy against the cleft of your ass.

The slow ingress of their cocks deep into your body, sends explosive stars skittering across your vision, the overwhelming fullness already throttling you into another orgasm so intense, they have to hold your body still against theirs. Propelling into you in tandem with each other until they set a rhythmic, burning pace within your swollen holes.

Rafayel’s fingers cup about your jaw, dragging you into a fervid, wet kiss. His moans of pleasure he drowns against the heat of your tongue.

Before Sylus lunges forward in a demand for your attentions next, strong digits threading through your locks to guide your head towards him, catching the string of pleasure that stretches thin in between your and Rafayel’s lips, as soon as it forms, against his mouth in a violent kiss.

The thick strength of his cock pulses firmer within your body, each swollen stroke of arousal you feel zip right up across your spine from how Sylus has taught your body to fit his daunting size, well. Each propulsion he carves deeper into your walls, a striking reminder of how intimately your body remembers the shape of him.

Rafayel takes to painting littered marks of pleasure against your neck, their lengths already throbbing in impending release, searing within you.

You squeeze about them at the sole, ruinous thought of their wet heats, flooding you soon. Moaning against Sylus’ mouth when their pacing turns reckless.

“Close,” Rafayel grits in need, cleaving your thighs up and open to constrain against Sylus, the man behind spares no mercy; hot scaffoldings of his own palms, he curves above Rafayel’s, so your sole choice is but to take.

“I’m almost, fuck—” Sylus groans a filthy, guttural sound, “you’ve gone so tight, sweetheart.” Burying his face into the stretch of your shoulder, just as Rafayel’s mouth finds yours at the apex of his pleasure, spurting hot within you.

Sylus’ own release, almost immediately after, his cock pulsates its thick release into your body, surge after surge of it, your body unable to accommodate it entirely. Their combined pleasures, the frenzied brush of both their fingers against your clit, sends you hurtling into your own orgasm, sobbing against Rafayel’s mouth.

Emptying them both, of their seed, for yourself.

You fall breathless against Sylus, strength and consciousness both seeming to flee with the final sparks of quivering pleasure that jolt about your limbs. Letting yourself rest against the strength of Sylus’ body as he soothes a kiss onto your damp temple. “A job well done, sweetheart.”

His final words, you accept in immense bliss, before entrusting yourself to your men in your vulnerability.

A long time has drifted by you, it seems — minutes or hours — you cannot quite tell the difference as your mind edges the cusp of awareness. You recall the sensation of your lovers’ hands upon you, phantom breaths that persist against the expanse of your skin, still. Words of adoration, grunts of desire, the press of their lips you feel within each sweet ache of your body.

The glancing touch of a hungering mouth, at the places you were weakest. The luxuriating stretch of silken sheets at your back — body coddled in soft fabric — as you shift, eyes drifting open on a haze of lust that still chokes your mind, a simmering wet heat kindling in between your legs. Flowing from you and onto an insistent tongue.

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation, gaze rushing down the expanse of your body to snag at the sight of a silver-haired head buried in between the space of your legs, moon-pale strands brushing the skin of your thighs in ticklish strokes. “Oh. You’re awake.” Xavier speaks, right into your pussy. His fingers pulse about the catch of your legs, keeping you steady for a slow sweep of his tongue into your slit. Sending your fingers grappling forwards, into his hair, your hips lurching up into his mouth.

Cheeks flushing fast into crimson at the realisation of how wet he’s made you, in your slumber alone.

Xavier relents at last, rising from in between your legs. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself.” Your slick drenches his lips, smeared across his jaw; the sight sending a fresh jolt of arousal straight in between your legs.

“Xavier,” your voice sounds hoarse to your own ears. “starlight.”

He nuzzles his cheek, obedient, into the palm you stretch out for him. Pulses a wet kiss onto the expanse of sensitive skin. “We’re home.” He murmurs, clear cerulean eyes meeting yours.

“How have you been?” The quiet baritone of Zayne’s voice reaches your ears from above, you notice your head lies cradled within his lap, the pads of roughened fingertips scraping gentle circles into your scalp. You shift yourself upright onto the bed.

“Well. Now that you’re both here.” You curve coveting fingers about his jaw, luring his face closer to brush a gentle kiss against your lover’s mouth.

Zayne’s long changed out of his stifling attire, clad in a loose robe — he’s eased himself by your side. Carding absent fingers through the fall of your hair to hold steady, as you greet each other in chaste kisses.

The day’s harsh lines marred across his bow, softening with each kiss you flitter against his mouth, his cheeks, his lids apiece. He hasn’t had a proper weekend off from the hospital in ages; you’re determined to make the most of it now and help ease your beloved’s nerves tonight, and over the course of your rare days off.

You all deserved it, this short moment of reprieve, a chance to celebrate and enjoy what was purely yours.

You inch up across his lap, body much too aware of the moisture that soaks past swollen folds and leaks onto your thighs, an obscenity barely concealed by the flowing frills of your flimsy nightwear, caressing just past your ass. A fact, Xavier has not let you forget, owing to how his hands haven’t deprived you of their warmth, even when his mouth has — slow, stimulating touches across the stretch of your thighs, fingers tickling at the sensitive skin underneath your knees.

Xavier advances up the length of the bed, with you. His torso draping onto your back, careful hands gathering your hair to shift onto your other side, he grazes a demure kiss onto the crescent of your exposed shoulder.

You sink down upon Zayne, securing your much needed support, in the palms you press against the hard expanse of his chest. “How was your day?” Murmuring the question into the give of his neck.

“I had a graft and by-pass surgery planned earlier this afternoon.” Zayne replies, fingers trekking a measured path from your throat, down, along the slope of your clavicle; you shiver underneath his scrutiny. “It went well, so I was able to join you sooner rather than much later.”

“Owing all to your brilliance surely, Dr. Zayne.” Your affectionate smile, you secrete against his mouth. “Xavier, however. I expected you sooner, starlight.”

He hums — a sound of morose defeat — into your skin. “I nearly dozed on my feet during that unnecessarily long briefing.” Burying his face into the side of your neck, to breathe; his next murmurs stifled. “They could’ve just mailed the mission details to me. I wanted to head back with you too.”

You laugh softly, sinking your fingers indulgently into the silken strands of his hair. “Captain Jenna would be so upset if she heard you right now.”

“And you.” Large palms cup about the pliant flare of your waist, your breath hitches at Zayne’s provocative touch. “It certainly looks like those two did a somewhat decent job of taking care of you in our absence. The colour’s back in your cheeks.”

You smile, sheepish, at the remembrance of your last meeting; his displeased frown, vivid, from across the barrier of his work desk, as he’d prescribed a few vitamins for you to take, owing to the sallow pallor that had taken your face, an aftermath of long sleepless nights chasing Wanderers.

“Oh, they have.” You assure, “Speaking of, where are my missing two?”

Xavier’s teeth sink into a testing bite at the flesh of your neck. “Fixing a meal I think, Sylus mentioned.” He murmurs absently.

“Ah. We should all have—” your voice fractures. “dinner together.”

“Later.” Zayne leans forward, mouth skimming a gentle kiss in between your breasts. “Right now, I require you sate a different hunger of mine.” Teeth catching at the gauzy fabric of your lingerie. “Don’t make me wait any longer.” The low rugged quality to his request, pooling arousal deep into your belly.

“I like how she looks in this,” Xavier smooths a touch down the length of your thigh, fingering, gentle, at the frilled garter of the stocking encasing it. “I’m almost jealous of you, Doctor.”

“It is becoming on her,” Zayne agrees, large fingers cupping about the shape of your breasts, rolling at the peaks. You shift your hips in a grind upon his thigh, in an anguished effort for further stimulation. “But does the recipient herself approve of my gift?”

“She does,” you gasp. “If it gets you looking at her with such need, she does—” The rest of your words, Zayne pilfers right into his mouth in an engulfing kiss.

Strong fingers ghost the pliance of your body, down in between your legs to meet Xavier’s. Hot, glancing touches across your quivering pussy, coating their fingers in copious slick.

“The doctor looks so wound up,” Xavier comments mildly. “Help him relieve some of that pent-up stress, baby.”

“You—” Zayne grunts, just as Xavier steers your bodies until you lie, pliant, upon Zayne’s lap, the straining outline of his arousal barely concealed under the modesty of his robes. You moan enthusiastically, fingers undoing the fastenings of his robe to release him, free against eager lips.

“That looks painful,” Xavier comments with an insouciant shrug, hands firming their grip about your ass to raise. “How long have you been holding back?”

“Quiet, Xavier.” Zayne reproaches, voice throttled in raw need.

Your heart and body immediately melting for him, you put your mouth to the head of his cock, taking him in.

A quiver rips across his abdomen at the first lap of your tongue on him, his fingers gentle, encouraging within your hair. A vehement desire cascades forth: to see him make more of that expression, just for you.

“Wet him for yourself, just like that.” Xavier encourages on a soft catch of breath, tapered fingers curving into your drenched slit to stroke against your frontal walls.

Working your tongue steadily, about the generous girth of him — Zayne’s digits remain a patient point of pressure against your scalp — until he hits your throat, pleasant and full, at long last. You groan around him, Zayne swallowing heavily at the vibrations of your throat.

“Don’t be gentle.” Xavier speaks, releasing himself from the wet confines of your clenching walls — fingers he unfurls forwards, to smear across the free length of Zayne’s cock, your throat could not accommodate.

You feel Xavier settle heavy, upon the cleft of your ass; the head of his own cock he glides, indolent, in between your dripping folds.

And just as your insides flutter in impatient emptiness at the baiting stimulation, he enters you on a swift stroke, your garbled sound of pleasure, sending you deeper onto Zayne.

Xavier sets a furious, punishing pace for the three of you, your mouth working diligent against the hard strain of Zayne’s arousal. Your smothered cries of delight mixing with theirs, heated into the air; Zayne’s low guttural groans stirring deep into your belly, within the same space Xavier works open with his cock.

Your silver beast descends upon you, mouth working a steady path along the length of your spine, tongue sweeping a cool, wet trail in its wake.

His fingers reach to tuck stray strands of hair away from your face — easing them behind an ear before he gathers the fall of your hair into a gentle fist, granting an obstructed view of your ruination, to your lover in front.

The pleasured flush dashed across Zayne’s cheekbones, hurtles higher to witness the wreck of desire you know is upon your face. He looks at you as if he wants to love and ruin you, it sends a jolt of inundating slick, right between your legs.

Xavier grunts at your tightening walls, licking a strip up the curve of your ear. “Can I—” His voice ruptures in overwhelming arousal. “—inside? I want to. Let me?”

Your answer; a moan of vehement assent, intermixing with Zayne’s responsive groan. Come for me, Xavier.

His grip upon your hips turns bruising, pelvis driving hard against your ass until he’s releasing himself; hot, pulsating strokes of come, painting into you.

He pulls almost immediately out of your quivering walls, palms shifting underneath your body to lift, until he positions you, right atop Zayne’s drenched cock. His seed still spilling out onto the swollen head of him, just as he coaxes your hips down to take Zayne in, the two of you groaning out in concert at your union.

Zayne surges forwards, sweat soaked forehead pressing against yours; a low, inarticulate curse tumbles from his lips at the clench of your walls, still sensitised from Xavier’s release.

“You’re burning up.” Long, thick digits curve beneath the nerveless stretch of your thighs, guiding you in deep, measured thrusts over his cock. Xavier’s ministrations having had you well-prepared to accommodate Zayne in a single stroke.

On usual days, your body able to accept him only in gradual, pleasurable propulsions, he works deep into your pussy.

“Lean on me.” Zayne speaks.

You do as he asks, appreciative of the reprieve allowed to let go and let Zayne guide you both into bliss. His fingers stroke about your entrance, a thumb he grazes against your clit, in an electrifying jolt of pleasure.

“Come now.” He instructs the man at your back. Soothing a hand down the curve of your spine when you feel Xavier’s arousal, firmed into solid stone once more, at your entrance. You moan at the prospect of what’s to come. Never having accepted any of your lovers into the same space, when Zayne is inside you.

“Breathe for me.” He asks of you. “Look at me.” And you do, in willing love; gaze finding his, coddled in the comfort of his verdant eyes — steady — even in the heated throes of your combined passion. “I am here for you.”

Just as the head of Xavier’s cock presses, insistent at the base of Zayne’s, your body beginning to give into him. Zayne hastens to curb his grunt of pleasure into your mouth, tongues moving against the other as Xavier steadily strokes a slow path into you.

Both your men settling whole and so incredibly full within your body, you sigh in shuddered stimulation when they navigate a rhythm in between your bodies, never leaving you empty for even a moment’s reprieve. A stretch so good, it stirs satisfaction deep into your stomach. The desire for them to leave you drenched up to your womb as you voice it on incoherent whispers, head rolling back onto Xavier’s shoulder.

Their hands; gripping about the shell of your hips, down upon the flare of your thighs. Across the pinching stimulation of your breasts, your throat. Xavier’s fingers brushing to feel the desperate thrumming of your carotid beneath his hold.

Sweeping an index across your damp lip, end to end, before he slips a finger into your mouth, toying at the pink of your tongue as it darts out for a taste.

The fever of your desire streaks higher, passion so incinerating, it only takes Zayne a thumbing caress across your clit before you are convulsing, violent about the two of them in a loud, sobbing cry. Wetness slicking down your thighs despite the way they plug you, their pacing climbing faster with each swift second of inundating pleasure your clenching walls force upon them, chasing a high they seek to release into your body alone.

And when they come with bated breaths and strangled groans, your combined essence overflows from in between your legs, staining the sheets wide and dark beneath.

It is only several breathless moments later that you are able to move, body wasted and draped upon your chosen seat — Zayne does not look as if he minds much, smoothing a kiss onto the sweat-slick stretch of your breastbone. “Happy anniversary, my reckless Hunter.” And then in slower, softer words. “I love you.”

You kiss your response against his mouth; a happy, languorous sound leaving your throat. Curving an arm tighter about Xavier nuzzled into the side of your waist, your gentle beast having settled into a short slumber, after having murmured of needing your warmth close by.

The doors to their bedroom slide open just then, to admit Sylus, carrying what looks to be an expensive bottle of wine and a set of glasses, nestled onto a salver perched across his arm. Rafayel, following close on heel, with a large tray on hand; the pleasant scent that wafts from the steam laced spice off the fresh spread of food, triggers your bout of hunger.

“Reckless brutes,” Sylus comments, an amused brow he raises upon witnessing the utter disarray of your wrecked states. A smile that skews only wider with the distasteful knit to Zayne’s brow.

As if he was one to speak, you would’ve snorted in defence, if you weren’t so drained.

Xavier, too, stirs beside you at the commotion just as the last two men of your heart move to join you upon the vast bed. “Get up and eat.” Sylus instructs, rapping his fist against Xavier’s prone form.

“You alright?” Rafayel questions, the moment he is seated at your side, reaching to entwine his fingers in between yours, a hoarse sound of approval you respond with, at his pleasant touch.

In between Zayne and Rafayel, they guide your body into an upright position.

Your head coasts sideways and onto Rafayel’s shoulder, in languid stupor, as he brings a spoon of hot broth to your lips. “Start with this, you’ll feel better once warmed from the inside.”

“Warm her, they did already… from the ‘inside’ that is,” Sylus’ licentious whisper reaches your ears from the side, setting your face to an incandescent glow at the recollection.

“Crude.” Rafayel reproaches — you do not, however, miss the scandalised red that seeps across his ears at his provocations.

You join in quiet laughter at Sylus’ words, burying your face deeper against Rafayel’s skin. A cosy arm he immediately brings about your shoulders to hold you close, as he continues to satiate your other, necessary hunger.

His scent soothes and settles deep into your lungs, gaze trekking, absent, to the stretch of skin exposed beneath his unbuttoned shirt, from where you smell his perfume strongest. A sudden, stray thought of wanting to lap a path up against him, assaults your mind, sore body responding in feeble protest.

A shadow falls upon you; Sylus’ thumb brushing, delicate, at the corner of your lips. “Eat well for now. Replenish your strength.” A kiss he nips onto your ear, you shiver at the muted stimulation.

“Sylus—”

“You’ll have your fill of us, as much as your heart desires, after.” He promises in decadent whispers.

Your men, proving true to his words; the rest of your long night spent in seeking love against each other’s skins and within their embrace.

Until they engrave proof of their existence — devotion and desire — scattered like scarlet jewels along the canvas of your body.

End Notes: This is my first foray into writing this kind of relationship for my favorite media and I enjoyed each excruciating second of agonizing over positions and 🍆s. Although I adore a hot poly romance just as much as the next person (cough Him&Him&Him), it certainly isn’t something I’ll personally be trying again any time soon LOL.

Likes, reblogs and comments are very much appreciated, if you are so inclined, and never fail to put a smile on my face.

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amaranthinespirit · 2 months

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simon riley who lets you wear whatever you want because everyone else only gets to look. he gets to be the one to take you home and fuck you until nothing but his name falls from your pretty, pink, puffy lips.

another night out at the bar with simon and his boys, wearing a dress so short, your ass is peeking out the hem, and a cut so low, your cleavage is on full display—and only more pronounced with the low lighting that casted shadows across your skin. the way your nipples hardened—prominent through the material of what you wore—and goosebumps arose your skin at the cold breeze of the ac.

simon saw the way eyes lingered on you every time you detached yourself from his side—and admittedly, he was one of those pairs of eyes. every time his arm wasn't slung around your waist, or around your shoulders pulling you flush against his body, it was like it was an invitation for those around to take a look at you—but it wasn't.

it had made him jealous—possessive even—but he knew it was not your fault, nor your intention. in fact, he encouraged you to wear whatever you wanted—he can fight. and besides, it wasn't like they were the ones that were going to take you home and fuck you on their heavy, lengthy cocks till nothing, but their names spewed from your lips—only him.

regardless, the feeling brewed in the pit of his stomach; a fuzzy tingling feeling that made his dick twitch in his tight jeans. he felt the blood rushing south, his flaccid cock chubbing up at the sight—and thought—of you in that tight, skimpy material that was a sad excuse of a dress. the outline of his bulge in the blue denim becoming more pronounced than before.

he groaned lowly before taking the last remaining sips of his bourbon, muttering an excuse to the guys about it getting a bit late; that he needed to take the missus 'ome.

before they could make a comment, he rose from his seat and crossed the room to you—who stood at the bar waiting to order the next 'round of drinks.

he felt the way your body jumped at the contact of his large hand splayed across the small of your back, the way his thumb dragged back and forth across the material slowly as he looked down at you. the tense muscles across your body relaxed under his hand at the realization it was him before he tugged you out the bar.

a smug smirk painted his face at the sight of the eyes that followed your earlier movements realizing that you were with him, that you were his—but he would make sure they remembered for the time you guys came back.

he was eager to get home, to tear that tiny little dress from your body. he wasn't sure he could make it past the front room with how hard his dick was in his jeans, twitching with every contact of your skin. his hand grasping your plush thigh tightly in his calloused hand, his skin rough against yours.

goosebumps rising underneath his palm as his hand slid further and further up your leg. his fingers grazed the hem of your panties, feeling the lace material under the pads of his fingertips. trailing along the junction of your thigh and cunt, teasing the skin as he felt your muscle tense beneath his touch.

a huffed chuckle escaped his lips at your eagerness, your desperation while his middle finger grazed down the center of your silken cunt, feeling the folds of your labia through the fabric of your panties that soaked with your wetness. a quiet mewl escaped your lips and you could see the smug expression etch itself onto his face by the way his eyes glanced your way before peeling back to look at the road once more.

he continued to toy with your pussy through the fabric, parting your folds back and forth with a pinch to your sensitive clit every so often that sent a hand flying down around his wrist.

but his movements didn't falter. his teasing finger worked your pussy all the way home, groaning lowly when he finally pulled his hand from between your legs, away from your completely soaked panties, to look at the glistening and pruned finger you caused.

he salivated at the sight, slipping his fingers under his mask to get a taste of you—a sample of what's to come for him.

it wasn't long before he had you pushed back into the bed, dressed hiked up your hips and pushed down from your tits, leaving the material bunched around your midsection.

he growled at the sight of your dampened panties, hooking his hands around your thighs to press your clothed cunt against his painfully hard erection, feeling his heavy dick twitching through the material.

he was desperate, you were desperate, but he couldn't resist the urge to tease you, to punish you for what you had made him feel for the entirety of the night—even if he had been the one who told you to wear whatever you'd felt like.

he rolled his thumb up your panties, pressing down against your clit as he watched you squirm beneath him. he chuckled lowly at your heightened sensitivity as his other hand worked to unzip his jeans. he didn't bother to get undressed, to throw his shirt off and tug his jeans down his hips to hang around his thick thighs.

while you lay practically naked under him, he hovered without a single article of clothing shed from his body as he pulled his erect cock from his boxers.

the sight from below had made you impossibly more soaked—the way he looked down at you with a tiled head, balaclava still on while he remained fully clothed with just his thick, meaty cock poking out from his jeans as he stroked the length with one hand, the other toying with your clit.

he hadn't bothered to pull your panties down your legs, or tear them off even as he lined his weeping dick up to your pussy, biting back a groan at the sight of you desperately clenching around nothing in anticipation for his heavy cock.

precum oozed from the head of his dick, swiped away by his thumb as he stroked himself before teasing his length across your slick. he cursed under his breath at the warmth before slipping his bulbous head past your walls.

he felt the slight stretch of you around him, the whimper desperation for more as he fucked just the tip into you.

"think this'll teach ya what happens when i let ya do what ya want?" his voice is low and strained with withering control as his hips buck further into you involuntarily, "but i think ya do it on purpose, don't ya, love?"

you whined, his name spilling from your lips in response to his words because other than 'simon,' no other words could be formed. just like he wanted.

he watched the way your sopping pussy swallowed his dick, the way his meaty, veiny cock glistened with your slick every time he pulled out, only to slam back in. his bulbous tip kissing your cervix with each pounding thrust, his clothed hips hitting the back of your thighs, turning the skin red and staining his jeans with your slick.

his hips pistoned his cock further into your cunt with an unrelented pace as he leaned over you, feeling your bare skin through the fabric of his shirt as he sucked at your skin. he left marks purposely in areas he knew would be shown off the next time you dared to wear a dress like the one he's fucking you in. his lips bruising the fatty flesh of your breasts and the valley between them, up to your collarbone.

when he felt your first orgasm wash over you, his hips bucked relentlessly and unfaltering into you. the way your body trembled under him didn't stop him from rolling you onto your stomach.

"mm, 'm not done with you yet, lovie," he cooed from above, a hand running along your spine, feeling each vertebrae through your flesh.

his hand slid under your hips to hike your ass into the air as he fucked you into the mattress as one rough hand trailed to your waist to pull you back into his hard cock, and the other tangled in your hair to keep your pretty little wrecked face into the bedding.

with this new angle, he fucked his meaty dick further into your sweet cunt, feeling the way you clench around him with new sensitivity and the way his name fell from your lips in a new octave, muffled by the pillow your face was shoved into.

when he would find his release, he didn't stop either. he continued, though his paced slowed as he watched his creamy load seep from your glistening pussy, fucking it back into you with hard, slow thrusts. a ring of creamy white forming at the base of his cock and soaking into the denim of his newly ruined jeans.

he growled at the mewls that spilled from your lips at the feeling of his jeans against your overly sensitive cunt, pulling out of your pussy with a squelch as he replaced his dick with his fingers, swiping his load that spilled down from your hole to thrust it back into you.

a satisfied and proud hum rumbled his chest as he looked at the bruises and hickeys littering your skin so next time you decide to wear a dress so short and low cut, everybody can tell that you're his.

and maybe you would if it got you fucked like that by simon—but he doesn't need to know that. that's our secret.

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kbwrites · 2 months

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The Lord's Favorite CH.3

Synopsis: “And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.”

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⚝content: trueform!Sukuna x f! reader, nsfw, mild language, voyeurism, sukuna has two cocks, pure smut, gentle sukuna

⚝wc: 2.2k

⚝a/n: please the messages I’ve been getting from this series have been so unhinged?? I love it

“I believe your presence is precisely what I crave.”

And you swear your brain ceases to function. When you regain awareness, you find yourself against the black silken sheets of Ryomen Sukuna’s enormous bed. The air is thick with the scent of incense, and the dim light from flickering candles casts long shadows across the room. And there you were, lying underneath the terrifying king, a man of immense power and ruthless intent, who would watch the world burn on a whim.

He looks down at you, two of his strong arms gripping your hips, the rough pads of his fingers digging painfully into your flesh. Your gaze flickers down to his body, taking in the sight of his rippling muscles, flexing with each subtle movement. His broad chest rises and falls at a steady pace, a stark contrast to the thunderous beating of your own heart. His crimson eyes hold a possessiveness, the gaze of a predator stalking its prey, intense and unyielding.

Ryomen Sukuna was alreadyterrifying fully clothed, but his naked form elicited a different fear in you altogether. Two thick cocks stood proud and eager. You try to take in every detail, thick veins running up the sides, flushed angry red tips dripping pre-cum down his monstrous shaft. Your breath catches in your throat, all of your saliva drying up as you force a swallow. His lips curl into a smile that sends shivers down your spine. He lowers his head to your ear, his breath searingly hot against your skin.

“You are aware I do not like waiting.” He growls.

“W… what would you like me to do My Lord?” The uncertainty in your tone is evident. He pulls back slightly, his gaze piercing through you with a mixture of disbelief and dark amusement.

Yes, you were younger than the other women in the castle, most of whom had come to serve after being widowed or hardened by life. But he assumed you’d had some knowledge. He had no need for concubines with no experience, anyone else who would dare enter his chambers without it would be swiftly dealt with. ‘Training pets’ was of no interest to him. But he couldn’t seem to ignore the way his cocks twitched at the thought of being the one who would ruin you. With a swift, almost effortless motion, his four powerful arms shift your position. Within the span of a heartbeat, he flips you over so that you find yourself straddling him, the change in position startlingly abrupt.

You’re momentarily paralyzed, a jolt of panic surging through you. What exactly were you supposed to do now? Theoretically, you knew what was expected, the steps that were supposed to follow, but… how?

༺═────────────═༻

On occasion, you found yourself wide awake during the night, the sound of the bed frame creaking and exaggerated moans muffled through the door connecting your room to Sukuna’s. Of course, Curiosity, that dangerous and ever-present impulse, got the better of you—and you innocently pressed your ear to the door. And of course, your eyes found their way to a convenient crack in the dark mahogany.

‘You should be ashamed, spying on your king’

You cursed yourself as you watched him. He laid on the bed, a woman—who you’d seen enter his chambers multiple times was bouncing up and down on his length. Crying out as her hands rested atop his broad chest. Two arms guided her hips and the other two rested behind his head. Her loud moans of pleasure, a stark contrast between his low grunts. Your hand clasps over your mouth, suppressing your gasps as your own hand reached under your nightgown.

The sounds of skin slapping, squelching, and the woman’s theatrical wails acted as cover to your own quiet moans. As it continues Ryomen's head suddenly turns to the side, eye locking directly onto the door. A menacing smile spreads across his lips. Your blood runs cold as you make direct eye contact with your lord.

You cease your movements, tiptoeing back to your bed. Squeezing your thighs together, to desperately cool the unbearable heat.

“My…. lord… what are you looking at?” She gasps in between thrusts. You only hear a slap before covering your ears and praying it was just coincidence his eyes fell on that part of the room.

And from his lack of mention, you thought you had gotten away with it.

༺═────────────═༻

And now you sit between his two muscular legs, the same way you saw that woman do. Staring down his two thick members. A shaky hand wraps around one, unable to grip him fully. A soft moan escapes his lips as you feel his cock twitch under your touch. You begin to pump slowly, your movements hesitant.

“Don’t..act so coy, I know you’ve seen this before.” And your heart drops in your stomach. You search for an excuse, a denial, but they all die in your throat. He only grins in response, looking at you through half-lidded eyes. One arm reaches behind your head, gently pushing your face mere inches away from his throbbing length. Your eyes flicker up to him then back down to his angry red tip, after a deep shaky breath you gather some spit in your mouth allowing it to flow onto him. He groans at the sensation, hand gripping your hair tightly.

You loll your tongue out, smearing the spit and pre-cum around his tip. Your other hand wraps around as well. Sukuna growls as your mouth engulfs him, tongue swirling around his head. He pushes your head down slowly, your mouth stretching at his size. Tears well up in your eyes as he hits the back of your esophagus, sinful gagging noises emanate from your throat. He hums amused.

“This view suits you…” He chuckles lowly as his hands guide your head up and down his shaft. He sets the pace, before letting go of your head. You look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes, the tears pooling in your eyes. Sukuna lies against the plush pillow, hands giving attention to his aching second cock. His breath hitches as his hips buck up, his length pushing even deeper into your throat. A sudden feeling of choking causes you to come up for air, coughing as oxygen finally enters your lungs again. A wave of embarrassment washes over you.

How pathetic you must look to your king, not even able to provide him with pleasure.

Ryomen grabs your waist, pulling you back under him. His eyes, darken as he pushes his body closer to you. A low thunderous rumble reverberates from his throat as his spit-soaked length finds friction against your stomach. You feel your own arousal pool between your legs as you are overwhelmed with a dangerous mix of fear and desire.

His lips capture yours in a rough kiss, sharp teeth baring down on your bottom lip as his tongue explores your mouth. Your soft moans are swallowed by him as his strong hands roam your naked body. He parts from the kiss, a trail of spit still connecting you two. He looks upon your panting form, without a second thought diving into your neck nipping and sucking at the delicate skin. Two hands grope your breasts, rolling the swollen buds between his fingers. He squeezes gently as you whimper under him, moving his mouth to encircle your nipple. The heat between your core nearing unbearable.

“My.. lord… p-please..” You cry out, his teeth graze your nipple, a warning. He huffs against your skin.

“Do not rush me, woman.” His mouth moves to your other breast. Staring up at the high, ornately decorated ceiling of Ryomen’s chambers, you find yourself drifting into a daze. Suddenly coming to when you feel a rough hand reach between your wet folds. Sukuna purrs lowly, gathering your slick between his fingers. Your gaze meets his once more, you desperately squirm against his hand.

“Already so eager… surely you realize you’ll break if I try to fuck you.” His voice laced with playful menace as his fingers tease your entrance. Your vision hazes as you look up at your king, your bruised lips part taking in shaky breaths in anticipation.

One thick finger enters, pumping into you slowly as you feel your whole body turn to jelly. Sukuna chuckles darkly as you writhe under him, he adds another thick digit giving you just a second to adjust to the slight stretch. You feel a pressure building in your abdomen, similar to the one you felt the night you spied on your king.

“You’re close, aren’t you… How disappointing it's just from my fingers.” He coos bringing his other hand to your throbbing clit. He speeds up his ministrations, slipping in a third finger to bring you closer to the edge. A slight curve upwards is all it takes for your sinful walls to clench around his fingers, your back arches as you are delivered to a place you’ve never been before. The unfamiliar feeling of orgasm, the pleasure of release washes over your body.

Ryomen removes his fingers from you, watching as your hole flutters around nothing, he brings the slick-coated fingers to his mouth, tongue darting out to taste the fruits of his labor. You catch your breath as you feel his weight pushing you deeper into the sheets. His crimson eyes bore holes in your soul as he looks down at you with pure hunger in his gaze. One of his cocks rubs between your folds, gathering your arousal. A flash of hesitation crosses your face.

“I do not expect you to take both your first time.” He attempts reassurance. His cockhead rubs up and down, kissing your clit before pushing into your hole.

He growls as he slowly enters you, feeling the warmth of your walls enveloping him. You wince at the stretch, tears pricking your eyes. His hand reaches to cup your face, thumb wiping away the tears as they fall. He hushes your cries with a gentleness previously unknown to him.

“Relax little one… I hnng am going as slow as possible.” He moans as more of his length is surrounded by you. The way your warm walls clench around his thick cock makes his eyes roll, you were so tight, a temptress made to bring him to his knees. A vision of utter seduction. Buried deep in your pussy, you could ask anything and surely he’d grant every one of your desires. “You.. fucking minx.” He curses as his tip kisses your cervix.

Your hands claw at his chiseled chest as you feel him reach the depths of your cavern.

“Lord Sukuna! T’much!” Your words come out jumbled and slurred as he begins to thrust into you. His pace slow, painfully so. His face etched with utter concentration as he tries to control his urge to split you open. With each long stroke, you feel every vein as he drags along your walls. Feeling deliciously full as King Sukuna pumps purposefully into your cunt.

“F…Faster please my lord..” You whisper shamelessly, his eyebrow quirks up in amusement.

“You dare…order your king?” He sneers, picking up the pace anyway. His hips stutter as he feels your cunt squeeze around him. Sukuna pulls you up to him, now resting on his heels as his two strong arms hold your back and the others hold your hips in place. Your arms snake around his neck supporting yourself as he pistons into you.

His thrusts become less rhythmic as he nears his breaking point. He grunts louder, his breath quickening.

“You belong to me… fuck… you hear me woman? All mine. Mineminemine...” He groans and babbles as he delivers one last thrust, his cock twitching as he paints your walls with his hot sticky seed. Your back arches in his hold as you reach your climax. He watches as your body convulses, melting like putty into his hands. He lowers you back onto the mattress, watching as your chest heaves. He slides his cock out of you, still semi-hard now covered in a mixture of your slick and his cum.

You take in the sight above you: his slightly damp pink hair, tattooed arms now bearing tiny welts from your scratches. And the look on his face—his red eyes nearly black from arousal. Gods, you wished you could take a picture, a snapshot burned into your brain for eternity.

He sinks into the space next to you, catching his breath. You are quiet for a moment, mind still reeling from the events that just transpired. Should you stay? Were you meant to just up and leave after? Unease coils in your chest as you sit up, gathering yourself for the short walk to your room before you hear his voice again.

“ Where do you think you’re going?” His voice laced with a hint of annoyance. You glance over your shoulder to see him propped up on one of his hands, his gaze dark.

“I thought you’d want me to—”

“You will stay. You will… sleep here with me.” he commands softly, his grip firm yet gentle as he pulls you onto his broad chest. Your ear presses against his pectoral, the strong, steady beat of his heart thrumming through you like a soothing lullaby. You look up at him, his eyes are closed as he rests his hand atop your head.

“Sleep…” he murmurs, his voice a deep, husky whisper before his soft snores soon rumble in his chest. You close your eyes as well, drifting off as you lay on the man who’d watch the world burn… for you.

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