♱ summary: you buy a mail-order slime creature online and treat it lovingly as your pet, but it turns out to be the king of curses himself! you fear for your life, but it seems sukuna has other heinous, dirty plans for you as revenge...
♱ featuring: demon!sukuna x fem!witch!reader
♱ tags: 7k words, fluff, crack, attempt at humor, smut, urban fantasy au, getting together, soft & mean sukuna, blobkuna, heian/true form sukuna, subby reader, reader is silly and horny but gets shy towards the end, name-calling/degradation, oral (f receiving), double p, p in v and p in a, size difference, creampie, blood drinking, aphrodisiac, dacryphilia, aftercare, brief mentions of a belly bulge, self-indulgent (this is very silly and smutty)
♱ notes: inspired by this fanart by @daromram. all the dividers on this post are by me! they are free to use with credit. please tag me if you use any of them! anyways, this fic is very silly and self-indulgent. i'm still a beginner when it comes to writing smut, sorry. i tried my best. i hope you can enjoy reading regardless. ૮꒰ ｡ ‸ ｡ ꒱ა
♱ taglist: @dahliadaenerys
♱ link to masterlist
Grow your own slime! The latest marvel of modern magic (continued on page 3.)
You scroll through the magazine on your compact mirror, skimming through the article. Recently, the Gojo Group—a multinational conglomerate—has developed the Super Pet Slime, a new product that allows the user to grow their own slime pet from the comfort of their home. Similar to other pets of your world, the slimes are not sapient and have magical properties. In bygone eras, the Earth used to be dominated by humans and non-magical animals. But due to diseases and various other disasters created by humans to their own detriment, most of the non-magical populations of the world were wiped out, leaving the creatures who used hide in the dark an opportunity to thrive in the light.
You are a witch living alone at the heart of the city, in your penthouse with a beautiful view of the skyline. You took a break from dating for a while to focus on your career, and though you have lovely friends and family, you get lonely sometimes. Your best friend suggested adopting a pet, since you’ve been wanting one for a while now. Other creatures required time-consuming training and expensive licenses to obtain before adoption, but slimes had no such regulations because they were low maintenance and relatively harmless. Plus, the slimes can change into different colors or shapes to the owners’ liking, and the Gojo Group also offers various mystery packs which randomizes the color and shape of slime you can receive.
You decide you want to purchase one, so you order a mystery box slime from the Gojo Group online, with overnight delivery because you’re impatient and you can afford the extra cost. Once the purchase is made, you lean back on your sofa for a moment, giddy and excited for your new pet.
The next day, your package arrives in the morning. You tear through the nondescript cardboard box it arrived in with haste, revealing another box inside. It’s wrapped in shiny, glimmering silver paper. You tear through it to find a small packet with a picture of a pink slime with one bloodshot red eye and little black markings on the front. The packet has no other text or graphics aside from “Add water!” with an arrow pointing from the blob to a cartoon explosion with a question mark in the center.
You look inside the box and find a paper instruction manual, along with various warnings. You read through it carefully, most of it containing knowledge you already knew from your research. The manual instructs the owner to drop the tiny slime into a cup of water for a few minutes, allowing it to awaken from its hibernation. Then, the owner must feed and take care of the slime for two weeks before it can grow into its matured form. It will take on the shape of another animal from the past. You’re hoping it will look like a bunny.
You walk over to your sleek kitchen, dressed in nothing but your comfy oversized t-shirt. You rip open the pack over the countertop and gently take out the little slime. It’s tinier than you expected, roughly four centimeters wide in diameter, with its single eye and frowning mouth closed. It’s a faint, dull grayish-coral color, and it feels slightly chalky, likely from dehydration. You gently squeeze it between your thumb and forefinger, amused by its indistinct, blobby shape. You grab a glass and fill it with cool water, then drop the slime into the glass, picking it up and holding it close to your face so you can watch the blob awaken.
It takes a minute or so, but the slime slowly opens it single red eye, gradually becoming aware of its surroundings. Its slimy body changes from a dull red to a shiny, pale pink—almost flesh colored. Its gaze darts this way and that as it sinks to the bottom of the cup, its eyeball bulging.
“Hi, there,” you coo, your heart melting at its possible panic. “Oh, you must be so nervous, poor thing. I’m your new friend. I promise to take good care of you.”
The slime opens its mouth, revealing tiny white teeth. You didn’t know slime could have teeth. Maybe it was genetically modified? It closes its mouth, then opens it, again and again, as if trying to speak. No sound comes out, though, only tiny air bubbles floating up the water from its mouth.
You scoop the little guy out of the water, gingerly placing it on the countertop. It feels nice and smooth now, slick and moist from being rehydrated. You stroke the top of it with your index finger, smiling.
“Hm, what should I name you?” you wonder aloud.
The slime tries to turn around and flops over, rolling across the marble surface. Its eye and mouth slide around its body to right itself, and it bites your finger—tries to, anyways. Its teeth are tiny and blunt, so it doesn’t hurt. It feels more like gentle nibbling than anything else.
You giggle at its attack. “Pfft, you’re a chomper, huh? Your bites aren’t going to do anything, you know. Maybe I should call you Mr. Grumpy. It’s childish, but I think it’s kinda cute. Wouldn’t you agree?”
It continues its feeble attack on your finger, attempting to lift itself on top of it in what you presume is supposed to be a killing blow. Unfortunately, the little guy climbs on top of your finger and immediately slides off because of how slippery its body is.
You laugh, lifting it up in the palm of your hand. “Mr. Grumpy it is. You gotta be grumpy to be so aggressive and weird looking, right?”
It stares at you with its freaky, bulging eye and frowning mouth, as if trying to send psychic beams of death towards you.
“Okay, okay, I know it’s not a great name,” you admit, “but let’s workshop it later when you’re grown, okay?”
Mr. Grumpy rolls over, laying face flat on your palm, trying and failing to bite your skin. You feel like your heart is going to explode out of your chest from how cute it is.
What you don’t know is that Mr. Grumpy is actually Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses.
He’s found himself in quite the embarrassing predicament. Someone managed to land an attack on the King of Curses himself. How impudent. Of course, Sukuna killed the perpetrator right away, but the curse remained. Such cheap trickery. It transformed him into this pathetic form and teleported him into one of the Gojo factories. He was then sealed into a plastic packet and shipped to you. The foolish human who has no idea about his true identity or the power you hold over him in this moment. You smile at him with delight, oblivious to the precarious situation you’re in.
“Argh, I just wanna eat you up!” you squeal, jumping up and down excitedly. Mr. Grumpy jiggles in your hand like pudding at your movements, its eyeball sliding around all disoriented and confused.
It is truly nauseating for Sukuna. To be so vulnerable in a weakling’s hand. He swears to himself that he will kill you once he transforms back.
You spend the rest of your day fawning over your new pet, cutting tiny chunks of vegetables to feed the little thing. At first, Mr. Grumpy wouldn’t eat the food you handed him, stubbornly keeping his mouth shut.
“C’mon Mr. Grumpy,” you say playfully, holding a miniature cube of chopped carrot to his mouth. “You gotta eat something to get stronger, or you’re not gonna be able to bite me like you want to.”
For Sukuna, your actions are utterly degrading and insulting to him. You’re cooing at him like he’s a child, attempting to feed him the slime equivalent of baby food. He despises your meticulous chopping of the vegetables and your patience as you attempt to coax him to eat. He is stubborn at first, refusing to take a single bite of the food you’ve prepared. Such a meal is beneath him. Hours pass. You periodically attempt to get him to eat every ten to fifteen minutes or so. Concern crosses your lovely face the longer he goes without eating. The emptiness of hunger gnaws away at him. Sukuna eventually gives in, gulping down the bits of vegetable you give him. The joy and relief on your face has him feeling strange.
You watch over him carefully, carrying him around with you in your apartment and giving him plenty of food and water. He keeps nibbling on your skin, doing no damage despite his fervent efforts. He tries to roll off your palm when you hold him or scoot away when you leave him on whatever available surface is near you, but you never let him fall or get far.
“I’m excited to have a pet, you know,” you say, curled up on the couch with Mr. Grumpy cradled in your hands. “I haven’t had a pet slime since I was a kid. My parents were often away for work, and the caretakers they hired weren’t very talkative, so I would talk all the time to Ms. Slimey when I was home. I have friends now, but they travel a lot for work, so I don’t get to talk to them often.” You chuckle. “I haven’t gotten better at naming pets, that’s for sure.”
Mr. Grumpy stares at you menacingly, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.
“Are you hungry? Do you want more carrot?” You reach for the plate near you, handing him another chunk of food. Mr. Grumpy keeps his mouth closed at first, but inevitably gives up, taking the food from you. You keep feeding him as you watch your favorite anime on the giant mirror in your living room, yapping endlessly as the show plays.
Soon, it’s time for you to get ready for bed. You place Mr. Grumpy in a glass cup filled halfway with water and take him with you as you brush your teeth and use the bathroom, paranoid about leaving the little guy alone. After you wash your face and do your nightly skincare routine, you head to your spacious bedroom, setting the glass on the nightstand and snuggling under the covers of your bed. You face Mr. Grumpy, staring at him for a moment.
“I have to go to work tomorrow,” you whisper, frowning. “I know the whole reason I got a slime as a pet is because they’re low maintenance, but I still feel nervous about leaving you home alone.”
Sukuna wriggles around in his de facto tank, bumping his little face against the glass. Your consideration…
It pleases him more than he expected.
He doesn’t want you to worry. He doesn’t want you to be sad. He doesn’t want to be stuck in this stupid glass all night long. He wants to feel your touch again.
You smile softly, tapping the glass.
“I don't know why I’m so worried. You're not even strong enough to knock over the glass. But I don’t want you to get hurt, you know? You’re my little guy. So don’t get into any trouble while I’m gone, okay?” You kiss the glass. “Goodnight, Mr. Grumpy.”
Sukuna scoots as close to you as possible, but you remain out of reach. He watches you fall asleep, his face squished against the glass.
The next two weeks pass by in a blur. You make sure to leave some food in the glass everyday before you leave for work, and you come back home to your tiny slime creature rolling around or staring into space inside the glass. It’s nice to look forward to seeing Mr. Grumpy after work. His ugly cuteness heals your exhaustion on rough days. You’ve noticed that Mr.Grumpy has slowly been warming up to you.
When you get home, you take Mr. Grumpy out to hold and pet him. You jabber everyday about all the details of your life and thoughts, no matter how asinine those details may be. At first, Mr. Grumpy would keep nibbling at your hand and fingers, but gradually, it’s been happening less often. Now, the little guy will roll around or simply bump his squishy body against your hand for your attention, or when you ask him a rhetorical question. It’s almost as if he can understand you—
Of course, you know better than to believe such a romantic possibility, since slimes can’t comprehend human speech. But it's a sweet thought.
One night, you sit at your dining table with some colorful pieces of fabric, scissors, and a sewing kit, spending a few hours making some things. You let Mr. Grumpy out of his usual glass to rest on the table. You give him the freedom to roam around as often as you can—as long as he’s within your reach and line of sight. His little blobby form scoots to and fro across the table, looking around the room before inevitably getting board and sitting still next to your pile of fabric, watching you work.
“Look!” you exclaim excitedly, holding out a tiny black top hat in front of him. “I made you some accessories!”
You carefully place the top hat on him. It slides forward a bit, covering his eye. You adjust the hat so it doesn’t cover his vision and wrap a miniature purple scarf below his mouth. He stares at you with a comically straight face, looking positively smart and dapper like a fancy gentleman.
“Oh my gosh! You look so adorable!” you gush, taking dozens of photos with your pocket mirror.
Sukuna is utterly disgusted by your cute accessory, with no way of expressing his thoughts. He can’t believe you spent all this time hand-stitching clothes for a pet. He’s not sure what’s disturbing him more: the fact that you spent so much time on something so pointless, or the fact that he might actually be charmed by your silly endeavors. The possibility of liking someone as foolish as you angers him.
You spend the next hour having a fashion show with Mr. Grumpy while he tries to eat the fabric and bite your hand. He is not successful.
Something else that bothers Sukuna is your utter lack of awareness when you’re home.
Specifically with your clothes and sexual endeavors.
You parade around your apartment wearing little to nothing on a regular basis. Oversized white t-shirts, lacy black chemises, pink babydoll lingerie—you don’t give a damn about being modest at home. And why would you? You don’t know that there’s a man in your midst. But seeing your delicious curves on display everyday without being able to do a single thing about it is torture for Sukuna.
The worst is late at night, when you’re having trouble sleeping, so you touch yourself. You think Mr. Grumpy has fallen asleep, but Sukuna is wide awake, witnessing your soft moans in the dark. The way you spread your legs, your hands slipping underneath your negligee—he can’t look away. You cup one of your breasts with your hand, pinching and teasing your nipple while the other hand plays with your clit. You rock your hips, humping the air in a desperate, needy motion. Sukuna wants nothing more than to rail into the bed until you can’t speak. But he can’t do that in this form. He can only watch as your back arches off the bed with your release, thinking about all the ways he’s going to wreck you once he’s free of this stupid curse.
The next day, you come home after work angry, irritated by your coworker’s condescension.
“Chris was a such a dick at work today!” you complain as you come out of the shower, taking off your towel. You use a spell to dry your hair and hang your towel by the door. Mr. Grumpy sits on your dresser, staring with that singular eye of his. You pay him no mind. It’s not like pets care about nudity or modesty.
You continue your rant as you rummage through your drawers to search for something comfortable to wear. “He was like ‘Are you sure you got the incantation right?’ and I was like ‘Yes, I’m sure’ and he was like ‘Do you even know how to brew the potion correctly? Because I don't mind showing you the ropes.’ I’m a witch, of course I know my way around potion brewing! I have more experience than him! Ugh! It pissed me off so much. He thinks that just because he's a warlock, he's better than me.”
You find your favorite purple dress and decide to slip it on, not bothering with any underwear. It’s a cute witch’s dress, tight but breathable because of the stretchy fabric. You love wearing it at home as a cute and stylish nightgown. It hugs your waist and curves nicely without suffocating you, with bell sleeves and a low neckline. The skirt of it stops right above your knees, with a jagged hemline.
“Everyone knows demons are the most skilled when it comes to spells and brewing; they're the ones who invented them! He's not tough shit just because he's a warlock. Witches and warlocks are on the same level. God, where do warlocks get all that audacity from?”
You scoop up Mr. Grumpy in your hands, pouting down at him. “You agree with me, right?”
Mr. Grumpy stares up at you with his singular eye, then rubs against your thumb, nuzzling you. You can't help but giggle at the motion.
“You're so cute!” you exclaim, giving him a little smooch. “Muah!”
Mr. Grumpy bites you suddenly but harmlessly after that, wriggling around in the palm of your hand.
Your phone suddenly buzzes with a notification. You check it with your free hand and gasp.
Tonight marks two weeks since you adopted your little slime friend. It's almost time for their transformation into an adult slime. You prepare for the big moment as instructed by the manual, gently placing Mr. Grumpy in a glass of water and setting it down on the carpeted floor of your spacious living room. The glass will break as he increases in size and transforms into a mature slime. You stand back, leaving plenty of space for it to happen. All you have to do now is wait for the transformation.
“It's time for you to grow! Are you excited?” you ask, unable to stand still because of your own giddiness. “I wonder what you'll look like. Maybe a dog? Or a cat? Or what if it's something really weird and random, like an octopus? Oh my gosh, how funny would it be to have an octopus-shaped slime bouncing around in my living room—”
You are interrupted by a sudden cloud of pink, the sharp sound of glass shattering piercing your eardrums. You cough, waving away the strange mist in front of your face. It dissipates, and your eyes widen in shock at what you see before you. It is a not a dog or a cat or even an octopus. It’s not even a slime!
The powerful aura suddenly crushing the air around you was undoubtedly the weight of a demon’s magic.
With pink hair, four arms, four eyes with irises red like the blood moon, and a large mouth on his stomach, the man before you grins devilishly, sitting cross-legged and completely nude on your carpet. His body is enormous, built with thick muscle and black tattoos. He has to be around seven or eight feet tall. His fingernails are black, but more importantly, your shocked gaze unintentionally drifts down to his crotch, where two penises hang heavy and thick between his thighs.
He speaks, amusement with a hint of arrogance coloring the rough timbre of his voice. “You blathered nonstop to me since I was brought here, and yet, now you are speechless at the sight of my true form?”
You raise your arms in front of you, prepared to cast defensive spells if needed. “Wh-Who—?!”
But you are no match for his speed and strength. He is on you in an instant, pinning you to the floor with one large, heated hand gripping your wrists and two others gripping your waist, his knees spread apart and resting near your hips. Your heart pounds inside your chest at his intensity. Everything about him—his weight, his aura, the enormity of his body—overwhelms you. He looks down at you with an easygoing smile and sinister eyes, tilting your chin up with his fourth hand.
“Little witch,” he rumbles. “You are correct about demons.”
You become overly aware of your body and how little you are wearing. You nipples are visible through the thin fabric your dress; your breasts, your pussy, and your ass available with such easy access. Your voice wavers. “You're not Mr. Grumpy…”
He chuckles, low and dangerous. “You have a terrible naming sense, truly.”
“What's going on…?” you ask quietly, trying your best to keep your breathing steady.
“My name is not ‘Mr. Grumpy’ as you so eloquently put it,” he says, “but Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses.”
You swear your heart stops cold for a second when you hear those words. You've heard his name before through whispered rumors; rumors about a powerful being who mastered the art of curses. He’s a dangerous figure, a monster who wouldn’t hesitate to kill someone with a flick of his wrist—
And you just spent the past two weeks treating this guy like a pet!
The large mouth on his stomach opens, its long tongue rolling out and flicking the soft skin between your thighs. The hot and wet sensation makes you shudder. Sukuna’s red eyes roam your figure, both of his mouths licking their respective lips as if gazing upon a delectable feast laid out before him.
“I-I’m sorry, I didn’t know, I swear I didn’t, I—” you beg, only to realize it’s hopeless. You figure the fearsome King of Curses is not one to show mercy, but one last plea spills past your lips anyways. “Please don’t kill me.”
Sukuna exhales, the ghost of a laugh escaping his lips. “Oh, I know you didn’t know. What idiot would knowingly make the King of Curses a handmade top hat?”
You wince at his words, at the memories flooding through your head of all the times you did something silly or goofy with him. Your face slowly heats up as you remember how many times you were naked before him, carelessly getting dressed and undressed, thinking of him as no more significant than an animal or a houseplant.
There’s a sadistic glee lighting up in his eyes, mischievous and pleased. “Have you realized how much you’ve teased me with your figure for the past two weeks, woman?” His hands slide from your waist to roam across the rest of your body, slowly drifting across your thighs, your ass, your hips, your back and your stomach, all the way up to your breasts. The heat of his touch seeps through the fabric of your dress and into your skin, tantalizing and erotic. “The magic of the foolish imbecile who cursed me into slime has worn off.” He leans forward, his lips brushing against your ear. “And now I can finally have you.”
You wriggle at his touch, clenching your thighs together in a feeble attempt to stop the arousal growing between your legs. “Have me—?”
“Consider yourself lucky,” he murmurs. “If it were anyone else, I would have ripped them limb from limb by now. But you’ve managed to charm me with your idiotic prattle and tender care over the past two weeks”—two of his hands grip your thighs, spreading them apart—“so allow me to return the favor.”
He releases your wrists and slides the skirt of your dress up, exposing your lower half. He grabs your hips and shifts you around so that you’re sitting on his lap, your crotch against the mouth on his stomach. You grab his arms instinctively to steady yourself, gripping his biceps as you stammer, “W-Wait—”
You yelp as you feel the long tongue sliding up your vulva, wet and hot against your sensitive folds.
Sukuna moves his hands from your hips to cup your ass. You can feel his two cocks poking against you, smearing precum on your skin as you jostle and squirm in his grip. He growls in your ear, holding you close to his massive, hulking form. “I witnessed your desperate attempts to pleasure yourself every night. You were so pathetic with the way you rocked your hips and your humped the air. So needy, weren’t you? Like a bitch in heat seeking a mate.”
You whimper, your pussy throbbing at his demeaning words. It’s been too long since you've last been with anyone, and though you know you should be afraid of him, your arousal is outweighing your rationale. His body is exactly your type. You've always wanted to try sex with a demon. Despite what common sense would dictate, you wonder how it would feel to have him fill you up in both holes at the same time.
Sukuna senses your lingering fear, smells it in your scent. He leans in close to your neck, leaving a feather-light kiss on your pulse point. He murmurs against your skin, gentler than you would have expected. “I will not hurt you. You may relax and enjoy yourself. Or I will cease if you wish.”
You should know better than to trust the words of a demon, but his tongue feels oh-so-heavenly, and you're too horny to think clearly, so you roll your hips and breathe out a simple, “Please.”
You can feel him grinning against your skin before he pulls away to face you, watching you as the tip of his tongue slips inside.
“You poor thing.” His tone is condescending, teasing. “You had nobody to fuck you like you needed. But don't worry.” He growls low into your ear, sharp nails digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. “I’ll take good care of you now.”
You gasp as you feel his tongue enter deeper, tasting your walls with lazy, circular movements. You squirm at the warm, wriggly feeling, crying out when base of his massive tongue pulses against your clit. You body jerks from the stimulation, but Sukuna's large, strong hands keep your hips in place.
“You taste like a dream,” he purrs, licking his lips. He grasps the back of you head, tilting it to the side. “I wonder if your blood will be just as enjoyable.”
“Blood…?” you squeak meekly, too distracted by his lower tongue lapping at your pussy. But before you can process his words, Sukuna's sharp teeth sink into your neck. White hot pleasure blinds your vision, your head and eyes rolling back at the feeling of him drinking your blood. You cum silently, too overwhelmed by the pleasure rocking your body to speak properly, your walls sucking in his large tongue like a dirty French kiss.
When you finally come down from your high, your body is limp in his arms. You whimper as his tongue slips out of your wet folds with a lewd squelch. Your neck has already been healed. Your blood drips down Sukuna's jaw obscenely. He licks both sets of lips at the same time, cleaning up the last of both your blood and fluids on his body with a cocky smirk.
“You're just as delicious as I imagined,” he says, red eyes half-lidded.
Your gaze drifts down to his hands. The veins are prominent, trailing up his forearms. Despite just cumming, your body feels so hot and desperate. You shift from side to side in his lap, so needy that you don't know what to do with yourself. You scoot closer to him, your chest squishing against his chest.
“Sukuna, I feel hot,” you mumble, gripping his wrists. You guide one of his hands to your chest, rubbing his palm against your breast through the fabric for some friction. “Please, I…”
Sukuna watches you with keen interest, all four red eyes focused on your flushed expression. “My saliva has aphrodisiac qualities.”
You rock your hips with frustration, rubbing your pussy lips against his cock. You attempt to scold him, but your voice comes out whiny instead. “Ugh, there was no need for that. I’m already horny as hell.”
“Oh, it’s very necessary,” he murmurs with amusement. He tears off your dress with sharp nails and lays you down gently on the soft carpet. He slaps his cocks down onto your stomach, both of them thicker than your wrist and long enough to reach past your belly button. Precum from both tips drip onto your skin, and you swallow nervously, your body twitching with excitement. “It will allow your body to adjust and accommodate my length.”
Your head feels dizzy with lust, intoxicated by the thought of him inside of you. Two of his hands keep your thighs spread while the other two drifts across your body, massaging your skin with warm hands. You lift your head to look down at his cocks, black markings wrapped around them all the way down to the tips. You try to stroke him, but he grabs your wrists before you can reach down, pinning your hands on either side of your head.
“Patience, woman,” Sukuna says, his voice low and deep like a rich red wine. “It takes a minute for your body to absorb the effects.”
You whine pathetically, squirming in his grip. Every second of emptiness that passes feels agonizing. Your pride is nonexistent in this moment. You plead, “Please, I need you inside. It feels so empty. I can’t take it anymore.”
If only you could see yourself. The way your face is flushed, hair messy and splayed out on the carpet, the lust in your eyes—Sukuna is enthralled by your pleasure and obscenity. He smiles, one hand wrapping around your throat with a firm grip. “I’m going to have fun breaking you.”
He grips his cocks with two hands, lining one tip up to your pussy and one tip up to your asshole. Your body feels so hot that you squirm, desperate to have the emptiness inside you filled. Sukuna keeps you pinned down, a low rumble coming from his chest. “Behave.”
You still immediately, fear mixed with excitement running up your spine at the serious, deadly look in his red eyes. Your arousal grows.
Slowly, Sukuna slips his cocks inside you, chuckling as you suck him in inch by inch. “Nasty woman. What a pervert you are. I can sense the fear arousing you.”
“I'm not…” you argue feebly, unconvincing with your flushed face and your ragged breath.
Sukuna's teeth sharpen, fangs elongating out of his mouth. Black horns curl out of his temples like a ram, a red glow enveloping his sclera. His arms and legs become blackened like ink, huge wings and a scaly tail like that of a dragon unfurling from his back. His fingers taper off into pointed claws, gripping you just enough to prick, but not enough bleed. Your walls throb around him.
He snarls. “Liar.”
Fuck, you're so wet. The mouth on Sukuna's stomach opens, his tongue lapping at your stomach. He grabs the back of your head and kisses you, his tongue long enough to reach the back of your throat. You kiss him back as best as you can, soft whimpers escaping your throat. He presses forward until he's sheathed all the way inside of you, then pulls his mouth away. A string of saliva connects his lips to yours.
You glance down, delirious from the overwhelming fullness of your body being stretched to its limit. Your notice your abdomen is bulging. His cock is so big, it's distending your stomach. You look up, taking in Sukuna in all of his demonic glory. He looms above you, a powerful and monstrous presence, oppressive in his aura and darkness. He wraps two clawed hands around your waist, pulling his cocks out all the way to the tip.
“Last chance. Are you prepared?”
You look up, doe-eyed and drunk on lust. “Please fuck me until I break.”
Sukuna slams his cocks back into you, knocking against your cervix. You squeal from the force of it, the heels of your feet slipping against the carpet as you struggle to find purchase. You nails dig into his shoulders, leaving pink scratches down his back. He fucks you in earnest, stretching out both of your holes with his cocks. It feels incredible. Every nerve in your body is alive and electric under his touch. The stimulation is overwhelming with him penetrating your pussy and ass simultaneously. Each slide of his cocks dragging deliciously against your walls has you crying out. “Oh my god, Sukuna!”
Sukuna smirks, his grip on your waist tightening.“Yes, I am your god. I'll make you worship me for the rest of your life.”
His smooth, easy confidence has you wrapped around his finger. You rock your hips in tandem with his movements, animalistic in your need for him. His other two hands find their way to your tits, groping and squeezing as he splits you open on his cocks. He leans forward, looking down on you with those glowing red eyes shining with sadistic enjoyment. One of his hands drifts from your waist to the bulge of stomach. “See how well it fits? It’s like you were made for me.”
“Oh…” Your voice wavers, tears slipping down your cheeks from how good it feels.
Sukuna seems to revel in your sensitivity as he pushes your legs up into a mating press. His tongue darts out to lick your tears, savoring the salty taste. He murmurs in your ear, entertained by your cute noises. “Such a filthy woman you are, getting off on demon cock. I could feel the way your pussy tightened at my true form.” He grabs your throat with a clawed hand. Your breath catches at the subtle threat of his grip. “Do you get off on being fucked by a monster? You want to be the pretty little prey trapped in my grasp, is that it?”
“N-No,” you stutter weakly. It’s hard to speak up properly when you’re bent in half and getting two cocks stuffed into you. You’re having trouble concentrating on his words, every word and movement and thrust from him melting your brain just a little bit more.
“Hiding it is futile,” Sukuna purrs. Even his face is becoming flushed now, a certain romantic intoxication glimmering in his eyes. His tongue darts out to lick one of the salty tears slipping down your cheek. “You were born to be my personal cocksleeve. This slutty pussy was made to be broken by me.”
Oh, god. The more he speaks and the more he moves, the more pliant your body becomes. It's like your body comes alive just for him. He's so hot and deep inside you, monstrous form crushing your soft body with his enormous weight. He's holding you down so forcefully with the kind of unwavering strength that's impossible to escape from. You're too delirious to think, too aroused to care about pointless things like shame and dignity anymore.
“Please, oh god, please, Sukuna,” you beg. “I need to cum. I've never felt this good before. Please let me cum!”
“Ha.” Sweat drips down his chest, glistening across his muscular abdomen. His black wings flutter above you, the only sign that he's close. He knows you're desperate, which only makes him want to bully you more. “Say you'll never be able to get off without demon again.”
“I'll never be able to get off without demon cock again!” you cry, babbling anything to please him. “You're stretching me out so much! I love it! I love your cocks! I—”
Sukuna kisses you fiercely, his tongue curling around yours. His wings envelope your whole body, the tongue from his stomach-mouth darting out to flick your clit. You orgasms bolt through your entire body like rocket fire, waves of electricity coursing through you. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, toes curling as you feel his hot, thick semen shooting deep inside your holes. He groans into your mouth as he cums, wings tightening and cocks pulsing as your walls squeeze out every last drop. You both go completely slack, bodies twitching with the aftershocks as you both take a second to recover. You whimper as Sukuna slowly pulls out of you and moves back, spreading your legs apart to watch his cum and your juices leak out of you.
“Don't look,” you mumble, embarrassed but too exhausted to attempt covering yourself with your hands.
Amusement dances in Sukuna's voice. “How can I not look when I've created a masterpiece?”
He watches as it drips onto the carpet for a few moments. You look so beautiful all fucked out and ruined underneath him, flushed and breathless. He lowers himself and lifts your hips once more to bury his face between your thighs, cleaning you up with his dastardly tongue.
You squeal and try to push him away, your thighs reflexively squeezing around his head as you feels his tongue slipping inside. “Wait—Slow down! I just—I just came! Oh—”
You toss your head back as you feel tingling waves of pleasure wash over you with every stroke of his tongue against you, darting in and out, curling around yours and his mingled release, swallowing it down. You writhe around in his vicious hold, his hands gripping your ass and forcing you closer to his mouth. Your squirming causes your hips to rock into his face, your clit rubbing against his nose as he eats you out. You grip his pink hair helplessly, whimpering and moaning, “Su…kuna…Oh! ‘Kuna…”
Sukuna moves his mouth upwards to circle his tongue around your clit, lips wrapping around the sensitive bud and suck gently. Your vision whites out, back arching off the floor as pain and pleasure intermingles into a surge of euphoria sparking through your body like lightning. Your walls clench and pulsate around his sinful tongue, clear fluid squirting onto Sukuna’s face. He laps it up like a starved dog, raising his head to look up at you with those sultry red eyes as he slowly licks his lips.
You can hardly speak, your chest rising and falling as you try to catch your breath. Your face and body are flushed, strands of your hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat. Sukuna rises to loom over you, lifting you up into a princess carry with his four arms. He cradles you close, a stark contrast to his earlier aggression. Exhausted, you sink into his chest, your pussy still throbbing from the aftershocks of your activities with him.
He carries you to the bathroom and turns on the water, waiting for the tub to fill. He sets you down gently into the bath and carefully washes your body with steady hands. You thought this would be a one-and-done type of situation, where he’d finish his business and leave. You hadn’t expected him to stick around like this, hadn’t expected him to caress your skin with weighty hands and a steady gaze.
He dries your body with one of your towels and places you on your bed before leaving the room. You hear the sound of the shower being turned on. You listen to the distant sound, white noise gently coaxing your senses back to you. Your body and mind feel like putty, as if you’ve been massaged and molded into relaxed oblivion. You couldn’t muster the energy to tense your muscles even if you tried.
Sukuna enters your bedroom with a towel slung low on his hips. With his height, he has to duck to enter through the doorway. ⭐️ You watch as he strides over to you, your gaze drifting over the black markings on his body with silent admiration. He comes to a stop beside where you’re laying on the bed, the markings between his Adonis belt within your line of sight. You tilt your head up to glance at his face. His lips are curled into a slight frown, his brows curved into annoyance, but there’s a softness in his eyes you wouldn’t have expected.
“Move,” he commands.
You scoot to the other side of the bed to make room for him. He drops the towel from his waist and lies down beside you, roughly dragging you into his arms to lay with your stomach on his on his chest. He holds you tightly, body heat enveloping you whole. The size difference between his body and yours is even more pronounced like this, his four arms covering your back completely.
“Um…” Your voice comes out smaller than expected. You wince at how meek you sound. “Sukuna?”
“What?” You can feel the rumble of his voice through his chest, and though you can’t see it, you can hear the smirk in his voice. “Still feeling shy?”
You clear your throat awkwardly, your face turning red. “I was just wondering…I mean…”
Words fail you as you attempt to formulate the question on your mind.
Sukuna exhales through his nose with amusement and cups the back of your head with one large hand.
“You’re mine now. Don’t even think about going to anyone else.” He pets your hair and presses your face into his chest. “Rest now. The details will be dealt with later.”
You close your eyes and snuggle closer to him, content with staying in his arms for a while longer. Sukuna doesn’t speak anymore. He simply holds you, massaging your back gently while you fall asleep to the sound of his breath and steady heartbeat.
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