MUZAN & UPPER MOONS fucking you in public
characters featured: Muzan, Douma, Akaza, Kokushibo, Gyutaro
Warnings: semi-public s*x, female reader, creampies, filth, language
DEMON SLAYER MASTERLIST
𝐌𝐔𝐙𝐀𝐍
Muzan fucks you like you were created for no other purpose than to sate his pleasure - and he makes damn sure you never forget it.
In the velvet-draped gallery of the theatre, his hand slips beneath your dress before the first act even begins. His fingers are cold and merciless, tugging your panties aside and sinking into your pussy without hesitation. The demon king finger-fucks you until you’re trembling. Pearly-white juices seep out of your pussy, making the cushion beneath you darken with dampness. Muzan’s lips brush the shell of your ear, voice silken and cruel all at once, “Stay quiet. Do you want them to hear what a whore you are for the world's wealthiest demon?”
By the next act, you’re already astride him, straddling his lap on the narrow seat. The hem of your dress is shoved high, bunched up against your stomach, leaving your white garters and stockings gleaming in the low light. You hardly have time to breathe before the hiss of fabric and the snap of a button announce the opening of his fly. Muzan doesn’t bother with tenderness - the rock-hard head of his cock nudges between your labia and pushes deep, splitting you apart by degrees until you’re full to the brim of his manhood demonhood.
“Pathetic,” he sneers, his hands bruising your hips as he begins to drive into you. The tempo is merciless from the beginning. It gets faster and harder though, until every thrust rips a strangled sound from your throat. The thick vein beneath his shaft drags over every sweet spot inside your needy cunt, each roll of his hips pulling you closer to breaking right here and right now, in his arms.
Below, the orchestra swells - violins rising, horns blooming in elegant unison - while Muzan clamps a hand over your mouth to silence your desperate gasps. His breath tickles the edge of your jaw, smooth as velvet and sharp as poison at the same time. “You hear that?” Kibutsuji whispers, “They believe this stupid spectacle to be the height of beauty. But I know better. The true performance is here. Your body breaking for the demon king while those mere humans sit beyond the curtain, enjoying what they call art.”
His nails dig into your waist as he lifts and drops you onto his cock, guiding you like a marionette. You shudder and arch into him despite yourself, trembling with every snap of his hips as your back rests against his chest.
Kibutsuji licks his fingers and puts them on your labia, spreading your lips and rubbing them up and down, occasionally spanking your clitoris.
Muzan only smiles, dark and joyless, watching you crumble as his cock splits you open again and again and again until he cums deep inside you, painting your velvety walls white with his seed. “That’s it,” he growls, his lips almost tender at the column of your neck as he keeps on fucking you deep, even after cumming inside you just a moment ago. “Break for me again, doll. You were made for nothing else.”
𝐃𝐎𝐔𝐌𝐀
The temple is still full of his worshippers cleaning after the latest mass when Douma pulls you away, his pale fingers lacing with yours. This is just another one of his whims.
His laughter sparkles through the altar chamber, sweet and crystalline, while he presses you to a marble pillar. His lips brush over the column of your throat, tongue flicking where your pulse jumps the fastest. “So sensitive already,” he croons, delight dripping from his voice. “How precious. You’re like a little bell, my lotus petal - one touch, and you ring just for me.” His smile is wide, but when his mouth claims yours, the kiss is unhurried, almost tender, his tongue stroking yours as though he wants to taste every breath you give him.
Moments later you’re completely naked and sprawled across the temple altar, legs parted for the Upper Two, your skin lit golden by the lanterns hanging at the ceiling. He kneels between your thighs, fumbling at his hakama with boyish impatience, cock already flushed and straining the material of his pants. “Ahh, look at this,” he sighs as he frees his cock and guides it into your slick, pinkish pussy. “All I needed was a glance, a kiss, and now I’m hard enough to burst. You must be a little succubus, hmmm? Sent here to ruin me.” His giggle bubbles up as his hips snap forward, burying him inside until your walls flutter around him. Your head rolls back and you gasp at the sensation.
The chants of his disciples echo from the next chamber like background music for his sin.
Douma throws his head back and laughs. “Oh, sweet lotus! If only they knew what their god was really doing, what he has his hands full of.” His thumb strokes your cheek affectionately as he leans down to kiss you while he pounds his cock into you, rainbow eyes glittering with lust.
Your hands grasp his forearms tightly as your eyes meet his. Shallow gasps, quiet moans and his name escape your slightly parted lips, the signs of the overwhelming pleasure swallowing you whole.
He presses his palm over your mouth and nose when your moans grow louder, watching your lashes flutter with oxygen-starved desperation. “There, there, my doll,” Douma soothes, though his hips don’t slow. “Be good for me and I’ll let you breathe. Wrap those legs around me, yes, just like that, so my cock can kiss your cervix! Don’t you love me enough to risk dying on my cock?”
When you sob that you can’t take more, your pussy swollen and red from the hard sex, he only hums and proceeds to fuck you even harder. “See? You said you couldn’t take it anymore, but your pussy’s still sucking me in! Such a greedy doll you are, Y/N.”
The moment your cunt clamps down around Douma’s dick, fluttering tight in desperate climax, he spills instantly inside you, groaning in sheer bliss as your spasms milk his dick dry. Douma’s grin softens when he sees your face: mouth parted, eyes glazed, chest rising fast. “Ahhh, look at you. My lotus. My little masterpiece! You’re such a good girl! You’re making me so proud!” He pulls out with a wet squelch. Douma’s eyes glitter as he watches the mess of his seed leak from you, thick and white, slipping down your folds.
“My pretty doll looks even prettier glazed in white,” he coos as his fingers smear the mess over your clit, circling it slowly until you twitch. He licks his thumb and index finger clean and beams down at you. “Don’t wipe it away. I want my little lotus to wear me all day long.”
𝐀𝐊𝐀𝐙𝐀
Akaza has you pinned against the shrine gate, moonlight striking his tattooed skin like paint on a war god. The red torii creaks with every violent slam of his hips, your body bent against the wooden beam as he takes you without pause. His fists dig bruises into your waist, growls tearing through the silence of the moonlit garth.
“Don’t look away,” Upper Three snarls, yanking your head up by your hair, forcing your eyes to meet the blaze of his yellow irises. His thrusts are relentless, brutal, the gate rattling beneath his strength. “I said look at me. Watch the man who’s breaking you.”
Every snap of his narrow hips rips cries from your throat, but he devours them in a bruising kiss, teeth clashing, tongue claiming yours until you taste the sharp tang of copper where his canines split your lower lip. His hand drops to your throat, squeezing it - not enough to choke, just enough to remind you who owns you. “You’re strong,” he growls against your lips, his breath hot, “But not stronger than me. I’ll pound you into the earth until your body only remembers the shape of my cock carved in your pussy.”
His rhythm of his thrusts is savage, punishing.
Then you both hear it - voices. The shuffle of sandals, low murmurs as worshippers finish their vigil.
Akaza slows his pushes, hips dragging deep and slow instead of frantic. His lips peel back in a snarl, fangs flashing as he whispers, “Filthy weaklings. I’d love to smash their heads like fruit but you…” His thrusts slow down and he drags his dick out of your wetness until only his cockhead stays in your pussy, “... You keep me busy like no one else.”
The voices fade, footsteps carrying the humans away, leaving only the pounding of your heart and the sharp creak of the gate. Akaza picks up pace again, rutting into you like a dog in heat, his head rolling back until the moment his whole body tenses. He buries himself to the hilt, cock twitching as he spills hot inside you, forehead pressing to your nape, his voice breaking into a softer tone, “You’re my only weakness.”
𝐊𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐁𝐎
Your bedroom is dimly lit by the faint glow of the moon spilling through the curtains, the shadows stretching across your cozy bed.
Kokushibo’s six eyes glint in the darkness as they drink in every detail of your trembling curves beneath him. Each thrust from behind makes your body shudder, his heavy balls slapping wetly against your cunt as he pins you to the mattress. “You are such a disgrace to your family,” he rasps, centuries of disdain curling around his words, “And yet absolutely exquisite in your shame.” His massive hand twists your wrists behind your back, lifting them slightly so your spine arches perfectly for his pleasure.
You gasp, knees trembling against the soft sheets, and Kokushibo chuckles low and dark, the brush of his teeth along your ear making you whine quietly. “Just like that. Scream for me, woman,” he utters, voice velvet and cruel, vibrating deep from within his muscular chest.
The demon chuckles suddenly, and your pulse quickens. “Your parents, in the next room, asleep, oblivious that their precious little girl lets a demon ruin her insides. Let them stay unaware, my little, pathetic piece of meat.”
You tremble, a heady mix of fear and exhilaration coursing through your entire being - partly from the thrill of being so exposed to Kokushibo, and partly from the thought that someone from your relatives could walk in on you being fucked by a demon.
A flicker of courage rises in your chest, and you tilt your head back just enough to meet his gaze, voice trembling yet daring as you speak, “I… I’m not just a piece of meat, am I?” You bite your lower lip, breath hitching in the quiet room as you curl hands in fists, tugging onto your sheets. “Because your cock wouldn’t swell so fast inside me if I were.”
His free hand hovers over your hip, and you feel him throb inside you, twitching against your slick heat. Then he pounds harder, deliberate and punishing, every thrust sending shivers through your body as he pushes so deep inside your dripping pussy that he takes your breath away. A low, dark laugh rumbles from his throat, “Perhaps not,” he states. “I’ll give you that, mortal.”
You shiver beneath him, caught between fear and lust, wetness pooling thick and hot between your thighs, dripping down even as he fills you completely with his massive dick.
This is not the first time he has claimed you. For nearly a month, he has come to your bed night after night. The first time, fear coils in your chest - you were certain he would devour you as any demon would - but when you satisfied his primal, male needs, he spared your life. Since then, he has returned without fail, marking you, claiming you, and leaving you aching long after he vanishes, slipping away before the sun can catch him.
“Yes, take it all,” Kokushibo coos between brutal thrusts. “My little morsel, shivering and leaking for me. Only I get to claim you, ever.”
As his climax nears, he releases your wrists, letting your exhausted body slump against the sheets. Yet even then, he does not let go, large hand gripping your nape, pressing your head firmly toward the mattress as he bends you to his pleasure. When he finally comes, and when a low growl escapes his lips, sharp spanks mark your ass, each leaving a red handprint of Kokushibo’s palm. He watches with dark amusement as your flesh jiggles beneath every spank he delivers.
Slowly, he pulls out, flipping you onto your back and spreading your thighs to admire your reddened, slick pussy, still leaking his seed. “Do not think I am done with you yet,” he growls, voice low and possessive.
Before the fog of overstimulation swallows you whole, the last thing you feel is the tip of his massive cock pressing back into your ruined, quivering pussy once more, and you know that tonight he will claim you completely again and again and again, with the house and its residents oblivious to your debauchery.
𝐆𝐘𝐔𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐎
The alley reeks of blood and rot, lanterns flickering weakly against the damp stones.
Gyutaro has you pinned against the brick wall, the shadows of the Red Light District shimmering above your heads, your dress shoved high above your hips, revealing the soft skin of your thighs, abdomen and pubis. His wiry body leans over yours, every jagged, vicious thrust tearing your pussy open, marking you as his. “Hahhh! Yeeaaaah,” he croaks, drool glinting at the corner of his mouth. “You dirty little thing, lettin’ me use you out here, where anyone could see. My perfect little whore.”
His nails dig into your waist and the back of your thighs. Every thrust drives you harder against the wall, his narrow hips forcing your legs to curl around him, splitting you wide and filling you so completely that you whimper helplessly.
“Say it,” he hisses, voice hoarse, “Say you love bein’ ruined by me.”
You tremble under him, heat pooling thick between your thighs, your pussy slick and aching. “Y-yes!”
He leans close, teeth brushing your shoulder, and a guttural, broken laugh rumbles from him, “That’s it. Such a good little pet for me,” he praises. “Mine, all fucking mine.”
Passersby laugh in the distance, and a group of drunk men finish their sake in the alley next door. You clamp your hands over your mouth, trying to muffle your desperate cries, but Gyutaro peels your hands away with a rough tug. “No, no, no. I wanna hear all of it,” he growls into your ear, “Every filthy, needy sound you make as my cock splits open that pathetic, whorish, little cunt of yours.”
As your pussy grows slicker, dripping and trembling with need, signaling that your climax is close, Gyutaro can’t hold back any longer. He slams his long cock deep into your cunny, pressing your body fully against the cold wall. His crooked hands find the décolletage of your dress and tear it roughly apart, freeing your breasts to spill into his grasp.
Without hesitation, his mouth wraps around one of your hardened nipples, teeth grazing lightly as his tongue flicks over the sensitive bud, teasing and torturing every nerve. His hips jerk violently against yours, each short, erratic thrust driving straight to the tip of your nerve endings, humping you with animalistic desperation.
Your cunt clamps around him violently, and he moans, letting his dead seed spill into you, thick and hot, filling you to the brim. His long hands cradle your body, holding you close. “You’re mine now,” he snarls, his cock swelling and pulsing inside of you, painting your inner walls with his semen again and again. “Yeah, just like that, my little pet, take it all.” He doesn’t pull out, letting it coat every inch of your walls, the damp coldness clinging to you.
“Ruined, just like me. That’s how I like you the most,” Gyutaro coos, stealing a kiss from your lips.
