: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 pirate toji x mermaid𖥔 set in fantasy era 𖥔 lots of plot with porn 𖥔 alternate universe
: ̗̀➛ new series on ao3
: ̗̀➛ notes: if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy, mamas.
CHAPTER ONE:
The half-crescent moon seeped silver across the midnight sea, and you felt it like a brand between your scales.
Estrus had you in its claws—your blood singing, your covert vent slippery and pulsating, the sweet, heady scent of your need rising in invisible ribbons through the water. You were supposed to stay deep, to hide in the kelp forests until the moon waned, but the ache had driven you reckless to journey beyond your reef. You arose, breasts breaking the surface, nipples taut and sore, tail flicking restlessly as you breathed the salt air.
That was when the net fell.
Coarse, salt-stiff ropes exploded around you in a thunderclap of spray. You screamed—a high, silvery sound that shattered the night—and thrashed, but the mesh bit deep, tangling your fins, pinning your arms to your sides. The net yanked upward with brutal speed. Water sheeted off your body as you were hauled, gasping, over the railing of a black-hulled pirate ship that reeked of rum, blood, and starving predators.
“Dead Man’s Choir,” read the flag in the wind.
Pirates—scarred, sooted, gap-toothed with gold in their ears—cheered like wolves.
“Cap’n Zenin! A mermaid! Fresh catch!”
A shadow carved through the lantern light. Tall and wide as a mast, black waves whipping wild around a face carved by violence, and a crooked scar splitting the corner of his lips while his eyes glinted a feral green.
Toji Zenin, captain of Dead Man’s Choir, stood with his coat hung open over a sweaty chest, belt already half-unbuckled like he’d been expecting trouble.
The grin that split his face was pure depravity. “Well, fuck me sideways with a kraken’s tentacle.” His baritone was gravelly and groggy. “Look what the tide dragged in. A pretty little fish.” He stopped dead when he smelled you. “And she’s in heat.”
You curled tighter in the quagmire, shaking, arms crossed over your bare breasts, tail tucked as best it could. “P-please! I—I didn’t mean to surface. The moon—agh, it hurts—”
“Oh, it hurts, does it?” Toji crouched. One massive hand grabbed the net and yanked it tight, spreading your tail fins wide. The action exposed the soft, swollen slit hidden where scales met smooth skin—glistening with clear ivory nectar that smelled like moonlit tide pools. “Look at that cunt droolin’ all over me deck. Half-crescent got ya bad, huh? Bet yer insides are burnin’ for cock.”
You whimpered, face flaming with shame. Your body betrayed you instantly as more fluid welled, a visible pearl of it sliding down your tail.
The pirates hooted.
Toji’s pupils blew wide. “Eyes off, dogs!” he snarled without looking up. “This one’s mine. Touch her, and I’ll feed ya to the sharks.”
He hauled the entire net over his shoulder, your tail flopping, scales scraping against the wood, and kicked open the cabin door to his chambers. The space reeked of leather, smoke, and human male. A massive iron-bound tub sat in the corner, already sloshing with fresh seawater someone had pumped up from the sea.
Toji dumped you straight into it.
The water hit your tail like cool clemency, but it did nothing for the fire raging in your core. He cut the net away with a curved blade, but left your wrists tied in the severed ropes, lashing them to rings bolted to the tub’s rim. You were half-submerged, upper body arched back against the rim, breasts heaving, tail twitching helplessly.
Toji stripped without ceremony. Coat. Shirt. Trousers. His cock sprang free, thicker than any merman you’d visited, corded with dark veins, the crown already leaking. It was obscene against his scarred abdomen, long enough to make your eyes widen in fresh panic.
“Never seen a mermaid before,” he muttered, stepping into the tub, water lapping his thighs. “Heard yer kind sing when ya come. Let’s see if that’s true.”
Rough palms slid up your tail, spreading the fins. Two thick fingers shoved straight into your vent without warning. You cried out, back bowing, the stretch scorching and perfect all at once. He curled them immediately, discovering the ridged spot inside that clouded your vision.
“Fuckin’ tight,” he growled, pumping hard. “Yer pretty cunt’s tryin’ to suck me fingers dry. Shy little thing, but yer body’s a whore, ain’t it?”
“N-no—ah! Please, Captain—” Your voice cracked as fresh tears spilled down your flushed cheeks. But your hips—your tail base—rolled shamelessly into his hand, chasing the pressure. The half-moon magic had you helpless; every thrust of his fingers sent sparks up your spine, making your scales flash a varicolored pink.
Toji added a third finger, scissoring you open, thumb grinding the swollen pearl above your opening. A moan tore out of you, unmistakably a siren’s note. The water in the tub glowed where your tears hit it, turning to tiny pearls that sank like stars.
“That’s it. Sing for me.” He pulled his fingers free and lined up that monstrous cock. The blunt head kissed your entry, smearing your nectar. “Fill ya till yer belly swells with pirate seed.”
He thrusted.
The stretch was barbaric. Your walls quivered and clamped, trying to push him out and pull him deeper at the same time. You screamed in vicious pain and bone-shattering pleasure as he bottomed out. Water sloshed over the rim and onto his chamber’s wooden floorboards. Your tail thrashed between his legs; he pinned it with his left muscular thigh, right hand gripping your hip hard enough to bruise, the other fisting your hair to yank your head back.
“Look at ya,” he groaned. “Tits bouncin’, cunt squelchin’, scales glowin’ like a cheap whore’s lantern. Yer terrified, but yer milkin’ me cock like yer born for it.”
The heat had turned every thrust into lightning. Your first orgasm hit violently, spasms that made your hole spray pearlescent fluid mingled with seawater. Your song spilled out, high and sweet, echoing off the cabin walls.
Toji growled like a man stabbed. “Sing louder!” He fucked you through it, ferocious, ruthless, water splashing everywhere. Then he flipped you as easily as breathing, your belly against the edge, tail raised high, and drove back in from behind. The new angle punched deeper.
“Need the whole crew to hear ya moanin’ my name,” he snarled into your ear, teeth grazing your throat. “Toji. Say it.”
“T-Toji—!” you wailed.
“Captain,” he corrected, slapping your rear hard to make the scales rattle. “Say it proper while I wreck ya.”
“Cap—Captain Toji!”
He rewarded you by reaching around and rubbing your pearl in hallucinating circles. Your second climax ripped through you harder than the first; your tail coiled around his waist like a living rope, scales flashing blinding light. The tub water turned milky with your endless stream of nectar.
Toji’s tempo fractured. “Gonna come—” He buried himself to the hilt and flooded you. Searing, viscous spurts of his release painted your insides, so much so that it trickled out in white rivulets. He kept thrusting through it, grinding deep, making sure every drop remained.
When he finally pulled out, you collapsed forward. Your tail floated limp as you cried soft, hiccuping sobs, but your body’s thirst wasn’t quenched.
Toji cut your wrists free, then pulled you into the water with him, your back to his chest, his cock hard again against your marrow. One big hand cupped your breast, the other petting your abused entrance.
“Rest while ya can,” he whispered. “Half-moon lasts three more weeks. And I ain’t lettin’ a prize like you go.” He nipped your ear. “Next time I’ll make ya ride me while the crew listens through the door. Let ‘em hear what a good little fish sounds like when she comes on a pirate’s cock.”
You were frightened, satiated, yet looking forward to his dark promise, and the half-crescent moon outside the chamber’s window seemed to laugh with him.
I am absolutely in love with your writing! I discovered your blog recently and i haven't read everything (although i intend to binge read your entire blog). I wanted to ask how you would feel about a fem reader confessing that they do not want children (early in the relationship) to nanami and being scared that he might leave because of that?
ahh thank you so much for ur support <3 as for the story, ill have to really flesh it out and see how i can approach it. when i write, i act out all the scenes first (clinical maladaptive daydreamer here), and then i write out the story. so ill put ur request on a pin board and revisit it!
Omg when I saw teen in that other request it reminded me of that "clingy teen" phase some teens go through and it made me wonder how sukuna would act if his teen daughter went through that phase LMAO like everytime he's at home walking around, she just follows behind him either while yapping or just dead silent but still happy to be with him and whenever they're walking side by side with each other she just holds onto one of his arms and she also hugs him whenever she sees him- Hes probably smug about being the favourite parent to his wife too💀 Can you do a fic on him having to deal with that? I think it would be kinda funny but if not that's fine! Sorry for the yap
OMG NO I LOVE UR YAP! yes, this is soooo cute. sukuna is such a girl dad idc what anyone says. i shall write this in the same format i wrote the other girldad sukuna post <3
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 minors do not interact 𖥔 spider hybrid sukuna x lost explorer 𖥔 set in fantasy era 𖥔 little plot with porn 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 oral play
: ̗̀➛ words: 4.5k
: ̗̀➛ notes: yeah, we getting that monster c0ck. if you have any requests, don’t hesitate to send them. pls follow, reblog, like, comment—whatever you want! okay love you and enjoy.
You had always been a creature of restless curiosity, the sort of young lady whose spirit chafed against the courteous confines of drawing rooms and assemblies. Corseted in the finest whalebone and silk, your gown a deep forest green that whispered against the undergrowth, you had slipped away from the carriage road at dawn, drawn by the wildest rumours whispered over tea in the shires.
The Cursed Woods.
Archaic, untamed groves beyond the estate boundaries where no sensible gentlewoman ventured. Tales spoke of a creature by the name of Sukuna Ryomen, woven by something not quite man nor beast, and of explorers who entered never to return.
And yet here you were, an amateur explorer in the rare moments you weren’t being paraded before wealthy bidders by your own wicked family, lantern clenched in your gloved hand, and your heart beating in a way no proper lady was ever meant to keep.
The deeper you traversed, the canopy thickened until daylight became a mere whisper sifted through leaves like stained glass. Branches snagged at your hem, roots twisted like conscious fingers beneath your soles.
“Ridiculous human-spider nonsense,” you muttered to yourself. “Meagre superstition to frighten children and keep the curious at bay.” Still, your pulse quickened as the path narrowed to little more than a deer track, and the ground beneath your feet began to feel . . .
Uh-oh.
One incautious step, and the world betrayed you.
A cry escaped your lips as you plummeted underground, graceful even in alarm, as ferns and dirt rushed past. Your lantern tumbled away, its flame sputtering out.
WHOOSH!
Impact, but not the bone-shattering sort you feared. Instead, you found yourself ensnared in something expansive: a web of unimaginable scale, strands viscous as a ship’s rope yet glowing like the finest Venetian silk. They clung to your skirts, your arms, your waist, binding you fast in a cradle of silver threads that swayed gently in the below-ground gloom.
You struggled with urgency. “Unhand me, you infernal contraption!” you hissed, though the web had no ears. That cage of fashion tightened around your waist, restricted your breath and made every twist a trial. The chamber around you was a cavern of roots and rock, lit by a murky brilliance that painted everything in ethereal blues and greens.
And there, at the web’s centre, something stirred.
He descended with grace, eight limbs moving in harmony—four powerful arms crossed over a broad, tattooed chest, four legs (jointed and armoured like a spider’s, yet scaled to a man’s formidable height) carrying him down the strands without a sound. His hair was a shock of rosewood pink, and his crimson eyes—four of them, goodness—fixed upon you with the jest of a cat discovering a particularly fine mouse. Markings like ancient runes adorned his skin, raven and intricate, and his mouth curved into a smile that revealed sharp teeth.
The spider-hybrid of the woods, Sukuna Ryomen. He was real. And he wore no coat nor cravat, leaving the sculpted planes of his torso scandalously exposed.
“Well, well,” he drawled a rich, velvety baritone with the decorum of high society. Yet, it was hemmed with something ancient and bestial, as though the very woods had taught him elocution. “What dainty little morsel has the forest delivered onto me this eve? A lady of quality, by the cut of that gown. Pray, do cease your delightful squirming. You shall only ensnare yourself further, and I should hate to see such an exquisite creature ruined before I have properly admired it.”
You stilled, lifting your chin with all the dignity a woman bound in spider silk could muster. Your cheeks burned, but your tongue remained sharp as a hatpin. “Admired? Ha! You presume a great deal. I am no trinket for your perusal, nor have I any intention of remaining your guest. Release me at once, or I shall— Well, I shall scream until the very birds flee the canopy above.”
Sukuna’s chuckle thundered through the web, sending shiverings along the strands that brushed your skin like a lover’s breath. Two of his arms unfolded, long fingers—clawed ever so delicately at the tips—tracing the space near your shoulder without quite touching. The other two remained folded, while his four legs moved, circling you slowly, the web creaking softly under his weight.
“Scream, would you? How delightfully dramatic. I rather think the woods would swallow the sound, much as they have swallowed you. And as for release, that would rather spoil the sport, would it not?” He leaned closer, one scarlet eye narrowing in mock solemnity. “Tell me, little moth, what possessed a creature so delicately bred to wander these depths? Seeking adventure, or merely fleeing the tedium of balls and betrothals?”
Oh, goodness.
He was arrogance incarnate, this eight-limbed enigma, yet there was an intelligence in his gaze that made your heart thump traitorously. “I sought knowledge, not captivity,” you replied, forcing your voice to remain controlled. “Rumours of a beast in these woods, though I see now the tales failed to capture your . . . singular classiness. Or is it customary among your kind to greet visitors with bondage and banter?”
Another laugh. “How prettily you flatter, even whilst trussed like a Christmas goose. Most ladies of your station would faint dead away by now. I confess, it intrigues me. Perhaps I shall keep you a while longer.” One clawed hand brushed a stray curl from your cheek, the touch feather-light, nearly courteous. “Or merely unravel that infuriating corset and see what lies beneath all that propriety.”
Four arms bolted beside you like the bars of the most luxurious cage. You could do little more than meet his gaze and retort, “By all means, unravel away. But do not expect me to surrender so easily. I am made of sterner stuff than your flimsy threads would suggest.”
A fiendish smile curled Sukuna’s lips as one of his clawed hands rose. “A challenge, little moth? How utterly delicious. Let us see how long that sterling composure lasts when I lay you bare.”
With a flick, he drew your corset downward in a stroke. The whalebone parted like butter under a hot knife, the laces snapping free. The bodice sagged open, falling away in ruined halves to dangle from the web’s strands, and oh—the rush of cool air against your skin was nothing short of indecent relief.
You drew in a deep, grateful lungful, your bosom rising and falling freely for the first time since dawn, the thin cotton of your brassiere the only barrier left.
Sukuna’s eyes darkened with unmistakable hunger. “There now,” he purred. “Those full, glorious breasts of yours are quite the vision. I wager no powdered gentleman in his starched suit ever made your blood run quite so hot, did he?”
A mortified flush spread down your throat and across the swell of your breasts. You were baffled by the insistent discomfort blooming low in your gut, the way your body betrayed you for this acidic creature rather than any eligible lord who had ever bowed over your gloved hand. “You are insufferable,” you whispered.
“Yet your body weeps for me already, I suspect,” he finished with a dark chuckle, leaning in so his breath ghosted warm over your collarbone. “Do not trouble yourself to deny it, my dear. I can smell how your most private places have grown eager. Now, let us dispense with this last scrap of modesty.”
Another gash of his claw, and the brassiere gave way altogether.
Your breasts spilled free at last, bouncing softly with the motion of the web. Sukuna wasted no time. Two of his hands cupped them at first, talons circling the stiff peaks of your nipples with infuriating slowness, while the other two gripped your waist, holding you as he lowered his head. His tongue rolled out to lave an aching bud, drawing it into his mouth with a suction that made your back arch and a soft, mortified moan escape your lips.
“Marvellous,” he whispered. “I could devote hours to them until you are quite beside yourself, watching you writhe while I lavish every inch of this magnificent bosom.” He switched to the other breast, teeth grazing the sensitive flesh before soothing it with his tongue, all while his fingers kneaded and rolled the neglected peak between claw-tipped digits, sending sparks of pleasure-pain forthright to your core.
No gentleman had ever spoken to you thus, let alone touched you with such shameless expertise. And yet, as Sukuna’s mouth worshipped your breasts—licking, sucking, nipping until they glistened with his saliva and your nipples pulsated with need—you could only whimper, lost to the sinful thrill of it all.
“Such responsive little berries,” he spoke against your skin. “They harden so eagerly for me, do they not?”
Before you could summon a retort, two additional strands of silk shot forth from the web above. They coiled about your wrists with strength, drawing your arms upward and pinning them securely on either side of your head. The position left you deliciously exposed, your bosom thrust forward, heaving with each ragged breath.
At the same moment, his lower limbs hooked beneath your knees, parting your thighs wide, while the others anchored your ankles firmly to the web’s strands. With another strike of his claws, the fine fabric of your dress and all beneath it fell away in ruins to leave you entirely bare before him. There, between your spread thighs, your nectar had already begun to gather, like the sweetest honey upon the petals of a forbidden bloom.
“Much better,” Sukuna purred, four eyes gleaming with approval. His gazes dropped, drinking in the sight with undisguised hunger. A single nail extended, tracing the inside of your thigh before collecting a glistening drop of your arousal upon its tip. He brought it to his lips, tongue darting out to taste you with an appreciative hiss.
He groaned. “The very woods themselves have ripened you for me.”
“You cannot—those claws—they are far too sharp!” you protested. “They would tear me asunder. I should die of it, I am certain.”
His chuckle came from his chest, eyes narrowing with amusement. “Ever the practical human. Very well, then. No claws for that most delicate of feasts.” With a flick, he withdrew the offending talon, and in its place came the heat of his tongue. He dragged it slowly up the seam of your sex, savouring every drop of you before delving deeper. The sensation was devastating: long, languid strokes that parted your folds and circled the sore pearl at your centre, followed by the sudden, profane thrust of his tongue inside you.
You cried out, wrists straining uselessly against the bonds, ankles stapled wide as he devoured you with single-minded vehemence. Sukuna feasted as though you were the rarest delicacy, his mouth sealing over your most intimate place, tongue plunging and curling while two of his hands returned to your breasts, tormenting your nipples in perfect tandem with every lap of his tongue.
The cavern reverberated with your helpless moans and the vulgar sounds of his hunger, the web shaking underneath you as pleasure curled tighter and tighter in your gut.
Sukuna’s tongue continued its ruthless invasion upon you, the appendage far longer and more devious than any mortal man’s could ever be. It extended, delving deep into your fluttering passage while the wide, flat tip of it curled and stroked within, coaxing forth waves of your release. At the same moment, his lips closed around your swollen bead, sending lightning racing up your spine.
You cried out the most indecent of sonatas, tears of overwhelming sensation gathering at the corners of your eyes. The pleasure was too keen, exquisite, and yet you could not bear for him to stop.
“Gods above,” Sukuna growled against your reddened folds. His four eyes lifted to drink in the sight of you—cheeks flush, bosom upheaving, every inch of your skin glowing with a delicate sheen of labour. “This cunt of yours is clenching around my tongue as though it were starved for a proper ravishing.” One of his hands left your breast to trace a claw lightly along your inner thigh, never quite breaking skin. “I am merely preparing you, my little moth, readying this untouched passage for the far greater intrusion to come.”
Another broken cry tore from your throat as his tongue extended even further, probing against the hidden, sensitive spot deep within while his mouth continued its suction upon your pearl. “Please—I cannot!”
The words dissolved into a helpless sob of rapture as he redoubled his efforts.
Sukuna merely laughed against your sex. “You can, and you shall, little moth. Cry for me.”
The pleasure crested like a tidal wave, your entire body drawing taut. Your vision blurred with tears, a sob rising in your throat—“Oh, heavens, I am—”
And then he withdrew entirely.
The sudden absence was a cruelty beyond measure. Your eyes flew open, wide with outrage, and the words burst from you in a voice scratchy yet blazing with the fire of a lady pushed past all etiquette. “You insufferable, wicked demon!” You fought against the webs that still held you fast. “How dare you leave me teetering upon the very brink? Release me this instant, or I swear I shall find a way to strangle you with your own silk!”
Sukuna threw back his head and laughed, thoroughly delighted by your fruitless squabbling. “There she is,” he said. “I knew fire lurked beneath that façade.”
With a lazy flick of two clawed hands, the silken strands binding your wrists and ankles disbanded into shimmering threads that floated away like dandelion seeds. He caught you effortlessly in all four arms before you could even slump, lowering you with surprising gentleness onto the centre of the web. The strands cradled you like the finest featherbed, cool beneath your bare skin.
You lay there, watching him rise above you. Sukuna’s lower body moved, the chitinous plating that armoured his spider-like abdomen parting with an organic click.
What emerged robbed the breath from your lungs.
His manhood stood proud and intimidating, stout and girthy, flushed a deep red that matched the colour of his eyes. It was monstrous in proportion, the broad head already beading with arousal. The sight of it sent a flutter through your core, your inner walls grasping with helpless want even as trepidation raced down your spine. It would split you open, and yet your mouth watered at the mere thought of it.
Sukuna wrapped one large hand around his shaft, stroking himself slowly from root to tip. The sight was lewd and mesmerizing; his four eyes never left your face as he worked himself, thumb sweeping over the flushed head with each pass.
You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, unwilling to surrender the last shred of defiance. “Look at you, stroking that grotesque thing as though it could ever fit. You think you can break me with it? Come and try. I am no tender debutante to faint at the first sight of a real man—or monster, as the case may be.” A mirthful smirk curved at your mouth. “But know this: if you leave me wanting again, I shall make you regret it.”
“Well, well. Let us see if your cunt sings the same tune once I have stretched you wide.” Sukuna’s grin widened, his hand still moving in hypnotic strokes. “Touch it. Take this grotesqueness in your hands and bring it to your mouth. I would feel those lips upon me before I claim what is mine.”
You hesitated, but the fascination proved stronger than fear. Slowly, you reached out. Your fingers wrapped as best they could around the girthy base. It was scorching hot, velvet-sheathed sword, far too wide for one hand alone; you required both, and even then, they barely met. You turned your face away at first, cheeks boiling with revolt, yet your gaze kept wafting back, enchanted by the bizarre, spongy ridges that lined the underside—raised and pulsing like living silk.
Curiously, your fingertips traced them, exploring the texture with feather-light strokes.
Sukuna hissed in pleasure. “Ah, you have found them,” he stated. “Those, my dear, are where my seed gathers. A spider’s gift, if you will. They shall throb against your cunt when I bury myself deep, flooding you until you overflow.”
For one wild, delirious instant, your mind wandered: could a human even carry such a creature’s eggs? The ludicrous thought of your belly bulging with his spawn nearly made you laugh aloud at the ridiculousness of it. What nonsense. You were no broodmare for woodland monsters, no matter how your body carried the brightest torch for him.
Sukuna clearly read the trace of your thoughts upon your face. “Enough wool-gathering, love.” He guided the heavy length of his manhood with his hand until the head patted your cheek twice, leaving a faint glistening trail upon your skin. “Kiss it. Show me that mouth knows how to worship as well as it scolds.”
You lifted your chin, eyes narrowing in one last spark of rebellion. “You presume a great deal, creature. I am no common doxy to be ordered around . . .” The words faltered under his carnivorous gaze, under the heat of him pressed to your cheek. With a defeated huff, you leaned in and pressed a single, chaste kiss to the tip, tasting the salt of his arousal.
Sukuna groaned in approval.
It was clear at once that no more than that small kiss would ever fit. The shaft itself was as thick as a young tree limb, elephantine in its proportions. You dragged your tongue along the underside, tracing those porous ridges that had so fascinated you. You followed with the gentle suckling of your lips around the side of the head, tongue swirling where you could reach, while your fingers stroked what your mouth could not encompass.
Sukuna’s four arms braced around you, two of them threading gently through your hair to hold you close without forcing, the others stroking your shoulders or the curve of your waist. “You are doing beautifully,” he spoke with fractured pleasure.
You whimpered around him, the taste of him scattering your marbles, your neglected desire pulsing between your thighs as you continued your eager attentions.
Sukuna’s patience, it seemed, had reached its limit. “Enough of your sweet worship, little moth.” With a low growl of carnal need, he drew you away from his manhood. One of his powerful hands threaded through your hair as he guided you back against the silken cradle of the web.
“I would feel your cunt now.” He dragged his length slowly down the centre of your body, tracing a sweltering path between your breasts, over the plane of your belly, until the head nestled against the slick seam of your sex. “What is your name?”
“What?”
“You haven’t given me your name.”
“Why does it matter?” you breathed. “This will be but once an ephemeral indulgence spun between us. Thereafter, we need never see each other again.”
Sukuna’s lips curled into a smirk, his multiple eyes glowing with amusement as he dominated you, fangs glinting like lustrous obsidian. “I am about to mate with you, little moth,” he said. “A union of this criterion deserves the courtesy of a name I can speak against your throat while I claim every inch of you.”
You met his gaze with a short-winded laugh. “Spiders do not mate for life, in any case. Their dances are brief, driven by instinct and nothing more.”
“Good thing I am only half a spider, then.”
You swallowed hard, the web nestling you like a lover’s embrace while his existence consumed every sense. If a name was the final thread he required before he buried himself inside you, then you would surrender it. “Then know me as Y/N.”
“Y/N . . .” The name rolled from his tongue like a dark incantation. Two arms wrapped firmly around your waist, drawing you flush against him, while the other two caged you in. “Well, Y/N. Would you do me the honour of consuming me once I’ve ruined this lovely cunt?” You clutched at those powerful arms, fingers digging into the corded muscle and tattooed skin, heart thrashing like a caged bird. “After all, female spiders are rather famous for devouring their mates.”
Your eyes met his—a quartet of scarlet depths burning with hunger—and gave the sharpest nod.
That was all the consent he required.
In one tumultuous thrust, he drove forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in a single, inexorable motion. The stretch was an instantaneous and overwhelming burn that tore a scream from your throat. The sound echoed upward through the cavern and out into the forbidden woods, startling a flock of birds into flight.
Tears spilled down your cheeks, born of stupefaction and the fullness that bordered on discomfort. Sukuna stilled at once, buried impossibly deep, as two clawed thumbs brushed the tears away.
“Easy, little moth,” he soothed. “Breathe for me.” He began to move then, withdrawing only to press forward again in long strokes that dragged those ridges along your inner walls. The burn relieved by degrees, replaced by molten pleasure that made your toes curl.
One set of hands returned to your breasts, pinching your nipples. “This tight valley of yours is already becoming a river for me, is it not? Embracing my cock, milking every ridge as though it were made to be filled by a creature. Gods, I shall ruin you for any mortal man who might dare come after.”
Your head fell back against the web, a chorus of moans slipping from your lips. And with every thrust, you felt yourself opening further, surrendering more completely to the critter who had claimed you wholly.
Sukuna’s pace quickened, his strong hips snapping forward with greater and greater urgency. Each thrust drove deeper, harder, the bumps along his cock dragging against you with friction as he rutted into your cunt like a beast possessed.
A hand pressed against your lower abdomen. “Do you feel that, my sweet moth?” His baritone dripped with dark delight. “Look how my cock contours the very shape of your belly from within. I am stretching this cunt so wide it bears the imprint of me alone.” He angled his hips and slammed forward with particular brutality, the crown breaching the entrance to your womb itself.
Your eyes rolled back into your head, a scream ripping from your throat as religious pleasure consumed you. Drool slipped helplessly from the corner of your parted lips, your mind going blissfully blank while your full breasts bounced wildly.
Sukuna gathered you up into the cradle of his arms, two locking securely around your waist and back while the others supported your spread thighs. Your own arms flew around his neck, clinging to the muscle as he fucked up into you with unrelenting strength, gravity driving you down onto his immense cock with every upward snap of his hips.
“Please!” you sobbed. “Faster— Agh! Please, give me more. I beg you!”
Sukuna laughed triumphantly, his breath fanning against your ear as he pounded into you without mercy. “I am going to fill you until your womb overflows with my essence, until it takes root deep inside.” His thrusts grew even more savage. “You will swell with my offspring, while these perfect breasts grow heavy with milk for them. I will breed you thoroughly, again and again, until your body forgets any other claim but mine. Would you like that, little moth? To be bred by a creature’s cock?”
Sukuna’s words ignited something feral within you, an unabashed hunger that wrecked your restraint. “Yes— Oh god, yes! I want it.”
Sukuna’s four eyes flashed, a barbaric grin splitting his lips. “Then it is what you shall receive.”
For the next hour, he claimed you without respite, as he turned you from one position to the next with effortless strength.
His long tongue invaded your mouth in a sloppy, devouring kiss. The muscle stirred against yours, then pushed deeper, shoving down your throat until you gagged wetly around it. All the while, his knot began to swell at the base of his cock, locking him inside your cunt.
He flipped you, turning you onto your knees with your buttocks raised high, face pressed into the strands. Two of his arms gripped your hips, the other two on either side of your head as he mounted you from behind. Your breasts swayed heavily beneath you with every thrust, and still he never withdrew, the knot chafing against your sweet spot until you were screaming his name.
He hauled you upright, pressing your back to his chest. Powerful arms hooked beneath your knees, spreading your legs pervertedly wide while the others enveloped around your waist. Suspended in the air, you could only cling to his neck and wail as he drove up into you. The knot was fully ballooned now, ensuring not a single drop of his seed could escape.
By the time he had softened, you were boneless, trembling, your mind still floating somewhere between the stars and the grotto. Sukuna gathered you close at once with such benevolence that belied the creature who had just bred you. Palms cradled your back and waist, and stroked damp strands of hair from your cheek. The last traced soothing circles along the curve of your belly—rounded from the volume of his essence he had pumped into your womb.
“Easy now, my brave moth,” he murmured, tucking a strand of her hair behind your ear. “You were magnificent. Rest upon me, love. Let me tend to you as you deserve.”
From the very strands of the web itself, he drew fresh silk and began to weave. In moments, he had fashioned for you a short wrap dress of the finest, most airy spider-silk, light as chiffon yet modestly concealing. It draped across your shoulders and bosom, crossing at the front in a simple, elegant knot that left your legs bare to mid-thigh. It felt like wearing a cloud with his scent.
He settled you atop him then, guiding you to lie fully upon the spectrum of his chest. Your legs draped over his lower spider limbs, your cheek pressed to the beat of his heart, arms circling his neck as though you could not bear even an inch of separation. His hands rested possessively upon the small of your back, stroking the length of your spine.
You sighed, nuzzling closer into the heat of his skin. “You are a miserable, miserable creature,” you whispered, voice hoarse from screams and gagging and endless pleas. But that smile never left your face. “Sukuna Ryomen.”
He pressed a surprisingly gentle kiss to your temple, then another to the bridge of your nose. “Do you feel satisfied with the promise I planted there, little moth?”
Your core clenched from the question, but it was soothed at once by his hands caressing your back. “Satisfied . . . and wonderfully sore,” you admitted, pressing a soft kiss to the centre of his chest. “I fear I shall ache for days, and yet I find I do not mind it in the slightest.”
“Good.” He cradled you more securely against him. “For I mean to keep you here, cocooned in my web and my arms, until the woods themselves forget you were ever anything but mine.”
pervyroomate!toji, who snoops through your dresser whenever you leave for your classes. he sometimes spends his afternoons digging through your panty drawer, running his rough fingers over the soft fabric of your garments. he imagines what you, his pretty, pure roomie, would look like sprawled beneath him dressed in nothing but whatever adorable pair of underwear he was enthralled with. just the thought of the delicate fabric in his hands hugging your most private area was enough to get him hard. and if you noticed you were missing a pair of panties? that was toji’s secret to keep.
pervyroomate!toji, who smothers his hard, leaking dick with the gentle cloth of your panties he stole borrowed and jerks off with it. he normally prides himself on his high amount of stamina but only a few minutes is all it takes to coat the lacy fabric of your panties white. if he’s not masturbating with your panties around his dick, he’s smelling them; inhaling the feminine aroma that clings to the cloth and makes his head feel dizzy with need, desire, and hunger.
pervyroomate!toji, who presses his ears to the wall connecting his room with yours, cock in hand as he tries to catch each and every sound you make while touching yourself at night. every now and then, at night when you think toji’s asleep, you finger yourself while making these quiet, subtle noises that make toji want to barge into your room and give you the real thing. he can tell you’re trying to be quiet, stifling your moans and cries but the shlick of your fingers pumping in and out your pussy is unmistakable and loud.
pervyroomate!toji, who can’t help but snap a pic or two of your underwear whenever you wear a skirt. he slips behind you in the kitchen and sneaks his camera a little underneath your skirt, getting a clear image of the lacy fabric hugging your supple curves. and like the nasty perv he is, he has an entire album dedicated to your upskirting photos.
pervyroomate!toji, who gets achingly hard whenever he stalks your socials. he scrolls through the numerous posts of you showing off outfits that accentuate your body and thirst traps that make toji’s nose bleed from how good you look in each one. as he looks through your account, he wraps a trembling hand around his throbbing dick, stroking it to the videos you innocently posted. toji unapologetically cums all over his screen each time, streaks of his load land on the 2d image of your face.
pervyroomate!toji, who “accidentally” gropes your ass whenever he passes by you. it amuses him how you haven’t; a. called him out on his wandering hands or b. began avoiding him when he walks by you. it doesn’t matter if you’re simply moving past him to grab the remote, he’s copping a nice feel of your perky flesh.
pervyroomate!toji, who installs a small camera in one of the keychain plushies he gifted to you. you hang it up on your door, the innocent-looking bunny faces near the edge of your bed. he checks the camera almost every hour, watching your every move and his hand always eventually slides underneath his pants.
pervyroomate!toji, who purposefully walks around with no shirt on half the time, stroking his ego whenever he catches your eyes lingering on his toned abs and thick biceps that dwarf your head. he ignores you when you tell him to ‘cover them up, slut.’
pervyroomate!toji, flirts and makes dirty jokes around you all the time. he’ll smirk when you suck on a popsicle during summer or get whipped cream on your lips after eating dessert, raising a brow at you suggestively and laughing when you get the hint, your cheeks immediately flushing crimson red. he loved seeing you get all flustered from his corny innuendos.
pervyroomate!toji, who one day comes back from his part-time job earlier than he expected, much to his excitement since he couldn’t wait to go back to watching you through the hidden camera in your room. that was, until he walked in on you, his precious roomie who he had initially interpreted as shy and naive, curled up naked in his bed with your hand shoved between your thighs and his sweaty gym shirt bunched up underneath your nose.
i wanted to start my own sticker business and went as far as to have two sticker sheets printed of my Hirono illustrations. but silly, stupid fucking me decided to tell my mother and she said it was bound to fail unlike my brother's business.....
he comes home to a freshly cleaned house, the fresh smell of cleaner and air freshener wafting through the air. He drops his suitcase to the floor, kicking off his shoes and slipping off his jacket. He sees you hurrying around the corner to greet him.
“Well back home, Mr. Gojo,” you smile, taking his jacket from him and picking up his suit case.
He sighs, loosening his tie and rolling up his sleeves, a tired and annoyed look written on his face.
“Dinner we’ll be finished in about half an hour—”
“No need. Finish your tasks and meet me upstairs when you’re done.” He stares at as if he’s looking straight through you, his tone deep and words sharp. You can tell he wasn’t in the best of moods…which can only mean one thing.
“Yes, sir.” You nod, thighs squeezing together when you glance down at his pants, noticing his bulge. He walks away as you hang his coat and put his briefcase in the closet.You quickly head to the kitchen, turning the stove off.
The house is silent when you walk up the stairs, heart racing the closer you get to his room. The door is cracked, beckoning you to step inside. Slowly, you push the door open to see Mr. Gojo standing there completely naked. He strokes his cock slow, beads of pre cum dripping from the tip.
“Crawl,” he demands.
You do nothing but obey, dropping to your hands and knees, crawling towards the tall man. You can feel your pussy throb with anticipation, growing wetter when you hear him curse under his breath. Finally, you’re at his feet, looking up at him through your lashes. He reaches a hand down, gently cupping your face before he slips his thumb past your lips, laying it flat on your tongue.
You suck on it, swirling your tongue around the digit while never breaking the contact with the man. He sucks in a breath through his teeth, moving his wrist in circular motions as pumps his cock. Without saying a word, he stops touching himself and immediately you know to take over. Both of your hands wrap around his shaft, thick and veiny, moving up and down.
“Such an obedient girl.” He pets the top of your head, removing his thumb from your mouth. “You like doing what I tell you to?” He hums.
“Yes, sir.” You nod, sticking your tongue out and licking the underside of his head, pressing small kisses to it in the process.
He lets out a throaty groan, tossing his head back when he feels your lips wrap around his cock, pushing him to the back of your warm throat. “Fuck! Atta girl.”
You gag around his cock, feeling his big hand on the back of your head, pushing deeper under your nose is pressed against his abdomen. Tears well up in your eyes as he holds you there for a few seconds. He eventually pulls you off, strings of spit connecting from your lips to his cock. You gasp for air, trying to catch your breath while jerking him off. He pushes your head down towards his balls, your mouth wrapping around them as you suck and lick at the sensitive area.
“Yessss, just like that,” he moans, eyes rolling back. “Get it nice and fucking sloppy.” A lazy smile spreads around his face when spit on his cock, taking him in your mouth again and opening your throat the deeper you go. He grabs either side of your head, holding you still before he starts fucking your throat. “This is just what I needed,” he breathes.
Your nails dig into his muscular thighs, leaving crescent marks in his skin. He can hear you choking on his dick, he can feel each time he hits the back of your throat, and he can see the tears rolling down your cheeks, but knows that you can take it. You enjoy when he treats you like this. Like a toy.
He pulls your head away, giving a brief break. You gasp for air again, coughing as you suck in a breath. “Oh god, look at a what a fucking mess you are. So perfect.” He rubs the head of his cock over your lips and across your face. You smile up at him, purely caught in a moment of ecstasy, a hazy look in your eyes. “Keep looking at me that and I’ll cum all over that pretty face of yours.” He bites down is his lip.
“Please, sir. I want it,” you beg, voice soft. You give kitten licks to the head of his cock, kissing down his shaft. His dick throbs, jumping up when you lick at a prominent vein running along his shaft. “Cum on my face, pretty please.” You blink your lashes up at him, pumping his cock while you suck on one of his balls.
“S-shitttt. Fuck me.” His voice grows shaky, jaw slack as he watches the way you desperately try and milk the cum out of him. “Oh fuck,” he gasps. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna cum.” His abdomen tenses up, balls tightening up as you stick your tongue out for him and speed up your pace. “Nnnghh! Fuckkkk!” He groans, thick white ropes spurting from his cock, landing all across your face.
Your eyes quickly shut, feeling the warm substance hit your skin, from your forehead, tongue, lips, and so on. His hips quiver, loud moans echoing all throughout the house as finally comes down from his orgasm. You pry open your eyes, that tired look back on his face, trying to catch his breath.
“Mmmm.” You lick the cum off of your lips. “Need anything else from me, Mr. Gojo?” You innocently ask.
“No…no, not at the moment.” He gulps, sitting on the edge of bed. “Thank you, sweetheart. Such a good girl,” he praises.
“Of course. I’ll clean up and get dinner back on as soon as possible.” You sweetly smile at him, standing to your feet to walk out his room and give him his space. “If you need to destress again, please don’t hesitate. It’s what I’m here for.” You shut the door behind you.
