Synopsis:: Sukuna has never liked concubines who try too hard to please him. He could always see right through them—their fake intentions and the fear hiding in their eyes whenever they had to attend to him. He hated all of it. Until her. Y/N was a new concubine who had arrived at his castle two months ago.
She was different from the others. She minded her own business and did exactly what she was told without trying to impress him. He had never requested her to serve him. Yet ever since she started serving him, he has not called on any of the other concubines. Now here she is, standing in front of him. Her naked body sits on his bed as his two cocks throb with need. His mouth feels dry, and his eyes stay locked on hers.
Pairing: Emperor!Sukuna x Concubine reader
Content:: MDNI, smut, breeding kink, body worship, degration, dacryphillia, unprotected sex, creampie, Size kink, double penetration, spit play, overstimulation, rough sex, true form sukuna
a/n: This is my first fanfic, and I’d like to gain experience by writing more like this. If something doesn’t feel right, please give me some tips! (Might suck)
The silence in his chambers was heavy, thick with the aftermath of another failed concubine. You could practically smell the lingering fear and cheap perfume as you approached the massive doors, your heart thudding a frantic rhythm against your ribs.
You were different. You'd learned that quickly. The other girls—all of them—were so transparent. They batted their eyelashes and practiced their simpering smiles, thinking they could fool the most powerful being in the world. They saw a throne, jewels, a path to a better life. You saw the monster. And you knew the only way to survive was to become invisible.
For two months, it had worked. You cleaned, you served, you kept your damn mouth shut and your eyes on the floor. You were a ghost, and that was fine by you.
So when the head attendant had fetched you, her face pale and her hands shaking, you knew your time was up.
"The Emperor requires your presence," she'd whispered, like saying it too loud might get her dragged in there too.
Now, here you were. The doors swung open on their own, revealing the beautiful chaos of his room. Shattered porcelain, torn silk, and in the center of it all, him.
His back was to you, all muscle and tension. The air crackled around him, a dangerous, hungry energy that made your skin prickle.
"Come in," he growled, not bothering to turn. "Don't just stand there looking like a lost little rabbit."
You shuffled inside, your bare feet silent on the floor mats. You kept your head bowed, focusing on a loose thread in the rug.
"Look at me," he commanded.
You forced your eyes up, and the breath hitched in your throat. He'd turned, and all four of his crimson eyes were locked on you. No anger this time. Something much, much worse. Interest.
"Y/N," he rumbled, your name sounding foreign on his tongue. "Do you know why I threw that other whore out?"
You shook your head, throat too tight to speak.
"She bored me," he said, taking a step closer. "They all do. The perfumes, the fake smiles, the fear they try to hide behind batting eyelashes. It's disgusting. Pathetic."
He was so close now you could feel the heat coming off him. He reached out, his fingers surprisingly gentle as they tilted your chin up.
"But you," he murmured, his gaze dropping to your lips. "You're not like them. No cheap perfume. No practiced looks. Just... you. Hiding in the corners like a scared little mouse."
His thumb brushed over your bottom lip, and a jolt went through you.
"I've been watching you," he continued, his voice a low, possessive hum. "Scurrying around, trying so hard not to be seen. All it did was make me want to see more of you."
His other hand landed on your shoulder, the weight of it a clear claim.
"Strip," he ordered softly.
This was it. The moment you'd dreaded. Your fingers trembled as you fumbled with the tie of your simple robe. The silk pooled at your feet, and you stood before him, naked and trembling under his intense gaze.
You expected him to laugh, to mock your soft, human body. But he didn't. He just looked, his four eyes roaming over every curve and dip like he was memorizing you. A low growl rumbled in his chest.
"On the bed," he commanded, his voice thick.
You moved mechanically, your legs feeling like lead. The cool silk of his sheets was a shock against your heated skin as you laid back, your hands clenched into fists.
He shed his own robe, and your eyes went wide. Oh. The rumors were true. Scars covered every inch of his powerful frame, a testament to a life of violence. And between his legs... two. Two thick, heavy cocks, both already hard and leaking with need, throbbed for you.
A dry chuckle escaped him. "See something you like, pet?" he asked, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. "Don't worry. I'll make sure you feel every inch."
He joined you on the bed, the frame groaning under his weight. He didn't give you time to think, to prepare. His mouth was on yours in a brutal, claiming kiss. It wasn't gentle; it was a punishment and a promise all at once. His tongue forced its way into your mouth, dominating yours completely.
One of his massive hands gripped your breast, squeezing almost to the point of pain before his thumb began to circle your nipple, teasing it into a hard peak. The other hand slid down, down, down, until his fingers were tangling in the wet curls between your legs.
You gasped into his mouth as he found your clit, already swollen and aching. He chuckled, a dark, arrogant sound.
"Already soaked for me," he murmured against your lips. "Such a needy little thing. Did you get wet just from the thought of being ruined by me?"
You couldn't answer, couldn't think. His fingers were working magic, rubbing tight circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked against his hand, a desperate whine escaping your throat.
"Please," you whimpered, tears already pricking at your eyes.
"Please what?" he growled, nipping at your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He licked the small bead away, his eyes rolling back in pleasure at the taste. "Beg for it properly, little mouse."
"Please, my Lord," you sobbed, your mind going hazy with need. "Please, I need... I need you."
That's what he wanted to hear. With a feral grin, he shifted, settling between your legs. He grabbed one of your ankles, lifting your leg to kiss a trail up your calf, his teeth scraping against your sensitive skin.
"Such pretty skin," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. "So soft. Made to be marked up by me."
He positioned himself, the thick heads of both his cocks pressing against your dripping entrance. The sheer size of him was terrifying. There was no way he would fit.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice rough. "I want you to watch as I ruin you for anyone else."
Your eyes met his, and you saw nothing but raw, primal hunger. He wanted to consume you, to break you, to fill you so completely you'd never be whole without him.
He pushed forward, and you cried out as the thick head of his first cock stretched you open. It burned, a delicious, stinging stretch that had your toes curling.
"Fuck, so tight," he groaned, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Gonna make this pretty little cunt mine."
He pushed deeper, inch by devastating inch, until he was fully seated inside you. You felt so full, so stretched, you could barely breathe. He gave you a moment to adjust before he started to move, his thrusts slow and deep, grinding against your cervix.
"Feel that?" he grunted, his pace picking up. "Feel how deep I am? This is my favorite pussy now. All mine."
His words were filth, but they sent a fresh wave of arousal through you. You were his. This terrifying, powerful being had claimed you, and some sick part of you loved it.
Tears streamed down your face now, from pleasure, from pain, from the overwhelming intensity of it all. He noticed, and his cruel smirk widened.
"Aw, is my little mouse crying?" he cooed, his voice dripping with condescension. He leaned down and licked a salty tear from your cheek. "Don't worry, pet. I'll give you something to really cry about."
His thrusts became harder, faster, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. He was pounding into you now, his hips snapping against yours with bruising force. The bed creaked and groaned in protest, but you didn't care. All you could do was hold on for dear life as he used your body for his pleasure.
You could feel your orgasm building, a tight coil in your stomach ready to snap. "Please," you sobbed, "can I... can I cum?"
"No," he barked, his hand wrapping around your throat, not squeezing, just holding. "You don't get to cum until I say so. This is about my pleasure, not yours."
His other hand found your clit again, rubbing it harshly. The dual stimulation was too much. You were so close, teetering on the edge, but his denial kept you from falling over.
"Please, my Lord, please let me cum," you begged, your voice broken and hoarse. "I'll do anything, please!"
He let out a dark laugh. "Anything? Oh, I'll hold you to that, pet." He leaned down, his mouth next to your ear. "Cum for me. Now. Squeeze my cock and show me who you belong to."
The command sent you flying over the edge. Your vision went white as your orgasm crashed over you, wave after wave of intense pleasure that left you shaking and sobbing. Your walls clenched around him, milking his cock as he continued to thrust into you.
"Fuck, yes," he roared, his own release hitting him. He buried himself deep inside you, and you felt the hot rush of his cum filling you up, so much it started to leak out around his cock. He marked you, claimed you from the inside out.
He collapsed on top of you, his heavy body pinning you to the bed. You were
pinned beneath him, his weight a grounding, terrifying comfort. You could feel his hearts beating against your back, a frantic, powerful rhythm that matched your own. For a moment, there was only the sound of your combined breathing, the air thick with the scent of sex and sweat and something uniquely him.
You thought it was over. You foolishly thought you had a moment to recover.
But then he shifted, and you felt it. The second cock, still hard and demanding, pressed against your thigh. A fresh wave of panic, hot and sharp, shot through you.
"N-no," you whimpered, trying to squirm away. "I can't... my Lord, I can't take anymore."
His laugh was a low, dangerous rumble against your ear. "Can't?" he repeated, his voice laced with cruel amusement. "That's cute. You think you get a say?"
He grabbed your hips, flipping you over with an ease that was terrifying. Your face was pressed into the silk pillows, his hand fisting in your hair and pulling your head back.
"I told you," he growled, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. "I'm going to ruin you. And I'm not done yet."
He spat, and you felt the wet heat hit your puckered hole. You flinched, a fresh sob tearing from your throat. He used his thumb to smear the slick around, the intimate, possessive gesture making your whole body tremble.
"Please," you begged, the word muffled by the pillow. "It's too much."
"It's never too much," he corrected, his voice dropping to a possessive hiss. "This is what you were made for. To take me. All of me. To be my perfect little cocksleeve."
He positioned the second, thick head at your tightest entrance. He didn't push in slowly. He thrust forward, burying himself to the hilt in one brutal stroke.
A scream ripped from your lungs, a raw, pained sound that was swallowed by the pillow. It was too much. The stretch, the burn, the overwhelming fullness of having both of his thick cocks inside you at once. It was a sweet, exquisite agony.
"Fuck, yes," he groaned, his head falling back in ecstasy. "So fucking tight. Taking me so well, my pet. Such a good girl."
He started to move again, a punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars. Every thrust pushed you deeper into the mattress, his balls slapping against your clit with enough force to send sparks of pleasure-pain through your entire body. He was using you, completely and utterly, and the thought was so debauched, so wrong, that it sent you hurtling toward another orgasm.
"You love this, don't you?" he snarled, his grip on your hair tightening. "Love being stuffed full of my cocks. Love being my dirty little whore."
You couldn't answer. You could only moan and sob as he pounded into you, chasing his own pleasure. His free hand came down hard on your ass, the sharp smack echoing in the room. The sting only added to the overwhelming sensations, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.
"Look at you," he grunted, his rhythm becoming erratic. "Crying and begging for more. Such a pathetic, beautiful mess."
He leaned down, his chest pressing against your back, his four arms caging you in. You were completely trapped, completely at his mercy.
"I'm going to fill this pretty little ass up," he panted in your ear. "Gonna pump you so full of my cum you'll be leaking for days. And then," he paused, his thrusts becoming deeper, more deliberate. "Then I'm going to put a baby in you. Gonna see this belly swell with my child. Everyone will know who you belong to. Who bred you. You'll be mine forever, little mouse. My pretty little toy."
The dirty, possessive words were your undoing. Your vision blurred as your second orgasm tore through you, even more intense than the first. Your body convulsed, your walls clamping down around him like a vice.
"Fuck!" he roared, his own release triggering. He buried himself deep, and you felt another hot flood of his cum, filling your ass until you were dripping with it. He marked you, claimed you, in every way possible.
He stayed inside you for a long moment, his heavy body pinning you down, his cum leaking out of both your abused holes. You were a mess. A crying, trembling, used up mess. And you had never felt more satisfied.
He finally pulled out, the loss of him leaving you feeling achingly empty. You collapsed onto the bed, unable to move, your body boneless and sore.
You felt the bed dip as he moved, and then a warm, wet cloth was gently cleaning you up. The tenderness was so unexpected, so at odds with the brutal fucking you'd just received, that it made fresh tears well in your eyes.
He finished cleaning you, then tossed the cloth aside. He gathered you into his arms, pulling you against his massive chest. You were so small compared to him, your head barely reaching his pectoral muscles.
"Shh," he murmured, one of his hands stroking your hair. "It's over now."
You looked up at him, your vision blurry with tears. His four eyes were soft, almost gentle. The predatory hunger was gone, replaced by something that looked suspiciously like contentment.
"You did well, pet," he said, his voice a low rumble. "Very well."
