Hello, I Wrote Some Hcs About How Sukuna Likes You To Suck His Cock. Theyre Proofread And Everything.

hello, i wrote some hcs about how sukuna likes you to suck his cock. they’re proofread and everything. enjoy !!

word count: ~500

content tags: uh?? It’s Sukuna, and it’s me writing him. He’s mean. Throat-fucking, tears, choking, begging.

You spend so much time on your knees already. It’s where he likes you best - exactly where you belong. And it would be a shame not to put you to good use while you’re down there.

He’ll make you work for it - make you beg for it. If he doesn’t like how you sound, he’ll crack his hand across your face, purposely ankling his long nails to scrape your cheek, and make you try again. But let’s be honest - he’ll do that regardless of how your words really make him feel. It’s just so fun to see that shocked look on your face, that expression of betrayal in your widened eyes. You shouldn’t be so surprised - you should know better than to expect any kindness from him. And if you’re really stupid enough to hold out for that? Well. He’s more than happy to disabuse you of your delusions.

Stick your tongue out. Mouth nice and wide, like a feral animal that hasn’t eaten in days, eyes rolling back as he brutally grasps at your hair and shoves his cock in your face, stroking down your cheek and across your eyelids. Drooling before he even lets you take him. That’s the kind of desperation he wants to see from you.

You can start slow, dragging your tongue up his length, but that’s only going to last until you get his cock wet enough for it to feel heavenly when he shoves it down your throat. Fingernails twisted through your hair, scrapping at your scalp, fixing you in place - he doesn’t care if you choke. If anything, he likes it more when you do. You can gag, drool, try desperately to pull away - it only makes him more vicious.

When the tears start welling up in your eyes - that’s when he really loses it. There’s something so wonderful about seeing you fall apart, something in that pathetic look in your eyes that makes him want to ruin you, leave you a whimpering mess beneath him -

He’ll cum down your throat every single time, one hand wrapped around your neck, the other pressing into the back of your head, forcing you to take him all the way to the base - and he’ll laugh at you if you even try to resist, tightening his grip, cutting off your last gasp of air, nails slicing into your vulnerable skin until you swallow every last drop.

There will be no reciprocation. Maybe he’ll let you get yourself off - or maybe he’ll let you get close before grabbing your wrists and tying them behind your back. He only keeps you around to serve him. If he doesn’t want to see you cum, you won’t.

Are you doing alright after all of that? Don’t bother answering - he doesn’t care. And he’ll be back for more before long, whether you’re ready or not.

I'm not sorry for this.

Pairing: Mahito x Fem!Reader

NSFW

Word Count: 2712

Warnings: Yandere, Dubcon, Forced relationship, Implied past noncon, Implied murder (not reader), Implied kidnapping, Oral (f recieving)

Hope was a dangerous thing to have.

It meant that there was some metaphorical light at the end of the tunnel. That, to some degree, there was a positive outcome to your situation - a concept that was the very definition of delusional.

Yet you still had it.

This would not be, by any means, the first time you’d attempted to get away from Mahito. The few “successes” you had miraculously achieved were, in reality, his own experiments on human behaviour.

What would you do? Where would you go? Who would you seek out?

To each of these questions, he gained a bountiful supply of answers, the last of which especially so - growing in size and deformity in an area of the sewers that he had sectioned off specially for you.

If hope didn’t drive you to madness, the moans belonging to the twisted remains of friends and family were enough to fill in the rest, so surely it had to be madness that gave you the idea you had.

Initiating intimacy with Mahito on your own free will.

Perhaps you could argue with yourself that it was bravery instead that led you to consider such a daunting task, but the truth was far more disturbing:

What more did you have to lose?

With plans A, B, C, all the way through fucking Z failing so spectacularly, it seemed the only option left. Even if it made your stomach clench so violently you needed it to stare at the horizon to keep bile from rising up your throat.

Maybe, by some absolute miracle he would let you roam free after you convinced him you had come to return his affections. Escape would come later, you needed to take this one step at a time, but it would open the opportunity for some trust to be gained and his guard to be lowered just enough that you could get the hell out of there. Giving him an inch so you can gain a mile and (hopefully) more away from him.

It was just a matter of actually going through with it.

You knew you were staring, but it wasn’t like he paid it any mind. He was too absorbed in his book - an arm propped behind his head on the pillow while he used the other to lean the book against his knee. His free leg dangled over the side of his hammock, pushing against the ground and rocking himself from side to side. It was difficult to see the title from your position on the floor, but the illustrative diagrams were enough of a hint that it had to do something with human anatomy.

The implications of his choice of literature were shoved into the recesses of your mind as you slowly stood and made your way towards him.

Each step closer was filled with trepidation, and the skin on your hands burned as you wrung them together.

Mahito acknowledged you when you got within five feet of him.

His smile was as big as it always was, the stitches around his eyes slightly enlarged by the ridiculous glasses he wore.

“Hey.”

Your sheepish greeting made him smile wider, and he pushed the glasses up to rest on top of his forehead.

“You were staring for quite a while,” You cringed inwardly at the call out, “Is it because of my new look?”

Your eyes flickered up to the old fashioned cat-eye style frames. They made him appear almost comical, and perhaps the sight could be if they had belonged to him in the first place.

“They’re certainly something, I’ll give you that.”

He giggled. “I think the same when it comes to human eyesight.” He placed the glasses back over his eyes and leaned towards you - his eyes narrowed into slits. “Some of you have terrible vision.”

All you could do was laugh nervously at his playful tone after he failed to look away from you and the awkward silence grew. The bones in your hands screamed in protest as you wrung them further.

“I actually… wanted to ask if I could join you?”

Mahito’s eyes widened slightly - the glass lenses greatly exaggerating the expression.

Inwardly you were dying from how feeble the execution of your request was, but it was thankfully met with relief when his bemused expression melted away into one of obscene delight, and he leaned back into the hammock with his arms in an open gesture.

“Go right ahead.”

He made no motion to move over and give you space, so it was awkward climbing in. There were a few moments where you genuinely believed you were going to flip the whole thing over and cause the two of you to eat shit on the concrete below, but you managed to get your bearings and lay beside him.

Well… really you were half on top of him with your head resting on his chest.

You had been close to him before, but never anything like this. Without the resistance you normally put up, you were able to notice the hollow silence that took up the space where a heartbeat should’ve been. The hairs on your arms stood on end with the revelation, and you did your best to breathe calmly through your nose.

He smelt like death and easter lilies.

You draped your left arm over his torso - your right arm crushed somewhat awkwardly underneath you, but it was surprisingly not too uncomfortable. Your legs were quickly tangled with his, returning to their position as a prop for his book as he began to pick up where he left off.

The sound of his voice resonating through his chest made you jolt unexpectedly, and his amusement bled into his voice as he spoke.

“Since the human cerebral cortex, with its underlying white matter, occupies 75% of the whole brain, its relative expansion is frequently equated with brain evolution…”

Ah, you had been somewhat right in your earlier assumptions.

Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest while he read, his voice soon becoming background noise to your thoughts. Every fiber of instinct was screaming at you that this was a terrible idea. That there must be something you hadn’t tried yet, and there was still time to save yourself while maintaining your dignity.

The thoughts were squashed with a moderate amount of difficulty.

You were fully aware of how bad of an idea this was, but you had made your bed and were determined to lie in it.

You could do this.

You had to.

After a few minutes you craned your neck to look up at him properly. The glasses had slid down to the end of his nose, and a small voice in the dark corner of your mind admitted that the sight wasn’t half bad. You waited until he turned his head to face yours before crossing the point of no return - pulling yourself up his body to close the gap in a soft kiss.

You tried your hardest to make it seem real.

It didn’t last long, maybe three seconds at the most with no response on his end aside from his entire body going completely rigid underneath your touch. Mahito’s face held none of the amusement it did before when you pulled away. He reached up and took the glasses off his face, all while his heterochromic eyes searched yours curiously.

“What are you up to?”

It was a simple question that made your blood freeze.

“Nothing, it’s just… ” your brain scrambled to come up with a believable excuse, “I’m tired.”

You kissed him again before he could have a chance to respond, pouring as much affection as you could scrounge up into the action. You released his lips only to speak a few words between breaths of air.

“I’m tired… of pretending… I’m not yours.”

His movements were almost lightning fast. There was a loud *thud* from the book as it fell to the floor, forgotten while he buried his hands in your hair to hold your head in place and deepen the kiss. It was an overwhelming sensation that was only amplified when he flipped you underneath him, semi-straddling you so he had a knee between your legs and the other by your hip.

The force combined with the sudden sway from the hammock made you squeak in surprise, and you felt him smirk against your lips before his tongue entered your mouth.

It took everything not to resist as he explored your mouth with fever - a whine threatening to bubble up from the back of your throat. The intensity of it scared you, but what scared you the most was the zing of pleasure that shot down your spine. You mimicked the action of his hands, threading them through his hair to keep it from coming between your lips and his.

You were trembling by the time he pulled back, lips shiny and swollen and stretched into a grin that held pure unfiltered glee.

“Three months,”

Your brows pinched together in confusion, but your jaw fell open in a gasp when his lips descended on your neck - the action of sensitive flesh being pulled between his teeth combined with the ache quickly building between your legs cutting off any questions you had in the form of a choked moan.

“Five days,” His hands twisted your head roughly to the side, shoving it against the pillow to allow him more access to your neck, “Ten hours… twenty-four minutes.”

The sensation of his teeth sinking into the junction where your shoulder met your neck elected a sharp yelp, but his hands kept you in place as he added another mark to the collection. The pain was short and sweet, quickly replaced with a horrible rush of euphoria that littered your skin with goosebumps.

“I knew you would break eventually.”

There it was. 

The devastating reminder that broke you out of your lustful haze, and you felt the urge to rebel creep back into your heart.

But that was the point, wasn’t it? To have him believe that you were well and truly broken in by his desires? Besides, if you really had been with him for as long as he said… it had certainly been a while since you felt as good as you did.

There wasn’t any harm in enjoying the process, was there?

You pulled his lips back up to yours before you could think about it further. He groaned into the kiss, reigniting the low spark you felt earlier.

With cautious, shaking hands, you skimmed your fingers down his chest, catching the edge of the fabric of his shirt and gently pushing your hands underneath to explore his skin. He had no blemishes you could feel, the only breaks in his flesh coming in the form of raised stitches that twitched beneath your fingertips.

His upper body had all but melted against yours, his own hands moving along your body in their own exploration. You doubted he’d be able to discover more about you, but that wasn’t a thought you wanted to entertain for the sake of Murphy's law, so you relaxed as much as possible in his hold.

However instinct is what drove you to immediately grab his wrists when you felt him raise the hem of your own shirt - an action that was purely done on autopilot.

Granted you did not plan on things escalating quite this far, at least not this soon, but when Mahito’s eyes immediately locked with yours, your breath hitched in paranoia. You could see the dark remains of suspicion still swirling amongst the blue and gray, and you swallowed nervously.

“Can I?”

The backpedal of a question hung heavily in the air, and you could almost see the cogs turning in his mind as he regarded you. The silence stretched on long enough that you began to brace yourself to be called out as the fraud you were until he slowly lifted himself off of you to sit on his knees - never taking his eyes off you as he did.

Relief sagged in your shoulders, and a different thrill shot through your system as you sat up and pulled your shirt over your head, leaving you half naked in front of him.

All your bras had been destroyed some time ago.

The knotted rope of the hammock felt strange against your bare skin as you laid back again, and Mahito’s sharp cackle made you flinch from the sheer volume as it echoed across the vast space of his makeshift lair.

“Maybe not so broken.” He hummed in delight, hunching back over you and running his tongue up your ribcage to encircle one of your nipples. Your head fell back against the pillow, back arching when his lips closed around the newly hardened bud.

It felt like his hands were everywhere at once, gasping and groping so incessantly that you nearly didn’t notice the borderline abrasive tugging at the waistband of your pants.

If true doubt hadn’t filled your soul beforehand, it sure did now as Mahito trailed down your body, leaving bites and open mouthed kisses in his wake.

It was a disgustingly human-like action, but then again almost everything about him was on the surface.

You simply had to endure.

“I want you to keep looking at me, okay?”

The excitement in his voice didn’t betray the fact it was a command, not a request as he slid off the hammock and pulled the last remainder of clothing off your body with practiced ease. He roughly adjusted your body so you laid across the hammock horizontally with your hips at the edge and knees over his shoulders. He knelt so your pussy was directly in front of his face, and heat burned in your cheeks as he parted your folds with two fingers - keeping his eyes locked with yours as he languidly ran his tongue up your slit, flicking your clit sharply with the tip and you practically mewled.

His laughter vibrated against your core, causing your hips to jerk up into his mouth, and his hands looped under your legs to hold onto the fat of your upper thighs, securing your lower body in place as he devoured you.

He was a messy eater, and the noises extended beyond obscene. There was never a steady rhythm, the motion of his mouth and tongue going either too fast or too slow and never really giving you a precise pattern that you could hold onto. Just mindless exploration meant to drive you further to the point of madness.

And the sick thing was it worked. That horrid coil that you hadn’t felt in ages was rapidly building, and rational thought took a backseat as you buried your hands in his hair for the nth time that night - holding on for dear life while your hips responded to his clumsy movements.

He smiled against your cunt, tongue swirling around your clit as he watched your face pinch together at a height of pleasure that you just weren’t able to reach. You weren’t holding back anymore, whines pouring freely from your throat with increasing volume and pitch.

You practically shrieked when you felt something hot, wet, and slimy plunge into your core. You’d been so lost in the mirth and lust in his eyes that you didn’t notice the second tongue that formed, the one that now wormed its way in and out of your cunt while the other worked over your clit, and you were gone.

The walls became familiar with your screams once again when you came. You had broken eye contact with Mahito when you threw your head back against the ropes, but you couldn’t find the capacity to care as your body shook violently. Air was hard to come by, and it only grew worse as Mahito picked up the pace, never giving you a chance to recover in the post-orgasmic bliss.

“Wh-what are you doing?” You gasped.

You were granted a brief moment of relief as the tongues were pulled from you, but it wasn’t out of mercy.

“I’m not finished.” There’s an underlying tone in his usual glee. A warning that kept you firmly fastened in place.

“I want to see what it truly takes to break you.”

© absolute-flaming-trash 2022. Do not repost, modify, copy, or claim.

Taglist:@prettycutebunny, @sai-my-beloved, @we-are-so-close, @shorkbrian, @biby-24k, @forcefulkitten, @siphite

Demon’s Lair

Pairing: Sukuna x Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Chapter: 1/?

Synopsis: You don’t know how you got here, and you don’t know who he is. A demon, perhaps. One who makes no secret of how much he would enjoy killing you. If you keep him entertained, he’ll hold off… we’ll see how long that lasts.

Content Tags: noncon/dubcon (fuck-or-die), kidnapping, death threats, True Form Sukuna (with two cocks because I Like It), one part with a kinda predator/prey dynamic, face slapping, face fucking, blood, tears, forced masturbation, fingering, bondage

Note: I am aware that I am not the first person to have had this general idea. I am also aware that I always want more of it, and I would imagine that I am not alone. So if you are depraved like me - enjoy!

Your eyes flutter open. The last you remembered, you were on a deserted trail, perhaps half a mile from your home. It was far too late, you were alone, it was so dark that you could barely see the path you were walking - but you’d been okay. At least, you were going be okay. You had food in your hands, a straight path ahead of you, the promise of sleep awaiting you.

But your hands are empty now, and the trail is gone. In its place is a cavern. Dark rock walls looming over you, stones scattered across the hard ground, water dripping somewhere in the distance, and a strange red glow permeating the entire massive space. Your clothing - simple trousers and a tunic - is torn in several places, your carefully braided hair hanging loose about your face.

A hazy voice from your childhood rises to the top of your mind. “ Don’t play outside too late, or a demon will come take you away!” The phrase had been enough to send you running inside when you were a child, but it’s been years since you stopped taking it seriously. Not that you didn’t believe in demons - you just figured it wasn’t so easy to catch one’s attention. But…something unnatural has certainly happened here. There’s a darkness haunting this space, sending a shiver down your spine.

As your vision clears, you see the full picture. It’s not just stones littering the floor. Stones aren’t bleached white. Stones don’t make you shudder when you gaze upon them. And they’re not shaped like that.

The ringing in your ears begins to fade. It’s not just dripping water, either. There’s a whole river flowing, somewhere, and the cave walls themselves seem to be echoing the heartbeat pounding through your veins. Under that - an echoing set of footsteps. And they’re coming closer.

You need to move - but you don’t. You can’t. You stay on the ground, half-sitting, hot blood rushing to your face, until the footsteps come to a stop behind you.

When you finally gain the will to move, it’s too late. A sharp-nailed hand closes over the back of your neck and yanks you to your feet. You can’t see its owner, and when you attempt to turn your head, it - he? - presses its fingers to your cheek, holding you in place. When you try to speak - all that comes out is a confused whimper.

He laughs. “You’re unlucky.” His voice seems to bubble up from all around you, unnaturally loud in the otherwise quiet space. “I got bored. And you got caught. It could have been anyone…” You feel another set of fingernails - too many of them - trickle over your thigh, sliding over a tear in the fabric that once covered you, digging sharply into the bare skin beneath. “But I can’t say I’m disappointed by what I dragged in.” He sighs. “Although I do wish you would say something. It’s no fun when you’re silent.” His grip tightens, nails pressing threateningly into your neck. “Speak.”

You say the only thing that comes to your mind. “Where… where am I?” Instinctively, you jerk forward, as if you’re trying to run away, but he easily yanks you backwards, pulling you into him, his body a hard wall against your back.

“Somewhere that no one leaves - without my permission, that is. And I seldom give it.”

“Who are you?” Your quick burst of motion has spurred you into action - you writhe and twist beneath his hand, pry at his fingers. He snakes his other arm around your waist, pinning you against him.

“That’s more like it.” He sounds amused. Terrifyingly casual. “It’s no fun if you don’t fight, either.”

He’s strong - as hard as you try, you can’t shift his grip an inch, and your attempts only make him laugh. You can feel panic welling up inside you, and you double your efforts, but it seems to make no difference. “Let me go.”

He clicks his tongue, leans over your shoulder. “I don’t think so. You’re far too entertaining.”

“Let me go.”

“Shh. I don’t like having to repeat myself.” He uncurls his arm from around your waist, and somehow - too fast for you to comprehend - grabs both your wrists in one hand, holding them high over your head. “You’re so weak. You’ve never had to fight for your life, have you?”

You try to wrench your arms away, tugging with all the strength you have, but it’s no use. His hold on you is unnaturally tight, his grip vise like on your wrists.

“No need to answer. I can feel the blood rushing under your skin. This is new to you…not as if it would make a difference either way.” Once again, you feel the impossible phantom sensation of more fingers brushing over your thigh. It doesn’t make sense - you hear another whimper escape your lips, and he releases your neck to muffle the sound, slapping his palm over your mouth. You try to scream, and throw your entire body forward, feet scrabbling against the rocky ground, but you go nowhere.

“I like that you’re trying. As pathetic as your attempts may be.”

You shake your head violently, and in response, he digs his nails into your cheek.

“It’s entertaining, if nothing else. And I’m not unreasonable.” All at once, he releases you and shoves you forward. You fall hard to the ground, face nearly shattering on the rocky surface. But you catch yourself - barely - absorbing the impact with your hands and knees, your entire body shaking from the shock. “I’ll give you a chance to escape.” He kneels down at your side, and strokes a gentle hand through your hair. “I’ll even give you a head start.”

You look up, catching a glimpse of his face before he presses yours into the ground. It’s a shocking sight, so much so that you assume it’s a trick of the light. The intricate set of dark markings scattered across his skin could be easily explained. Same with the strange placard covering part of the right side of his face - it must be a mask of some sort, though you can’t see how it’s fastened. But his eyes are another matter. You swear you saw a second pair staring back at you, tucked beneath the first. And his real eyes…even those were terrifying. They were too bright, too intense, narrowed by the ferocious smile painted across his face.

The air is squeezed from your lungs as he shoves you onto your stomach, scraping your cheek against the ground. He presses down hard, barely giving you the space to breathe, let alone move.

“When I release you, you’ll have ten seconds to move freely,” he declares. “I’ll even close my eyes.”

Ten seconds isn’t much time - you need a plan. But you’re dazed, disoriented, confused…even before he moves, you know you don’t have a chance.

“Not yet…” He taps his fingers sharply against your waist. “Not yet…” He grabs the back of your dress and rises to his feet, hauling you up with him. “ Now.”

You manage not to fall as he lets go, and stumble forward in the direction you’re facing.

“ Nine, eight…”

You’re sprinting as fast as you can, but the ground is uneven, and littered with things you don’t care to look at.

“Seven, six…”

Your eyes dart wildly around the massive space. There’s no way out. Not one that you can see, anyways. And there’s no time to think. You just need to keep moving. Keep running, and hide when you run out of time.

“Five, four, three…”

Keep running. A dark, narrow stream of water appears in front of you, and you leap over it. The far bank is slick, and when you land, you stumble. There’s a crunch beneath your feet.

“Two.”

You don’t stop to look. There’s nothing big around you - there’s nowhere to hide.

“ One.”

Just keep moving. You’ve made space. Eventually, there will be an escape. There has to be. This can’t go on forever.

“Time’s up.”

His voice…it’s close. Far too close to account for the seconds you spent running away. He’s somewhere to your left. You turn - and from your right, a hand lashes out, ensnaring you and sending you tumbling to the ground once more. This time, it’s his foot that pins you in place, pressing down on your spine as you wriggle helplessly beneath.

“That was disappointing,” he sighs. “You’re making this far too easy for me.”

You open your mouth, but nothing comes out.

“It’s incredible how fragile your kind is. If I’m not careful, I might actually break you.” He digs his heel into you, cackling as you cry out in pain. “Unfortunately, I don’t like being careful. It’s another one of those things that bores me.” He brings his foot up, and slides it under your stomach, effortlessly kicking you onto your back.

Your eyes have been squeezed tight - when you open them, his face is hovering over you. Both pairs of eyes stare malevolently into your own.

“I see that you’re done fighting. Probably a wise choice.” His voice is calm, and he’s smiling. It sends a shudder through your body. “But if you’ve given that up, you only have one option left.” His grin broadens, and he straightens up, standing tall, looming over you. “Get yourself up on your knees. I don’t like you lying down in my presence.”

Without a thought, you comply, rolling over and pushing yourself onto your knees, your head bowed. Your mind is numb, but you still know that obeying is your only choice.

“Good.” He pauses, takes a step back. “Now, I’ll be clear about my intentions.” He sweeps his foot across the ground, kicking a stray rock aside. It bounces through the cavern, every impact echoing across the walls. “Right now, nothing would bring me more pleasure than killing you.”

Your entire body stiffens. Your vision is hazy, scattered with black patches. And you can’t run. You already tried to run - and it only got you here.

“I’ve been thinking about all the ways I could do it,” he continues. “If I were feeling charitable, I would strangle you. But I’m not. I want to see blood. There are a lot of ways I could satisfy that desire - and some take longer than others.”

You’re fighting your body, trying not to keel over, tears suddenly obscuring your vision. When your captor notices, his laughter ricochets through the cave, vibrating across every inch of your skin. You have to look up. You have to see his face. Maybe you’ll see some reason for hope if you do. You raise your head - but you find yourself unable to look into his eyes. Instead, you find your gaze trailing up the length of his form, taking in small details, finding a strange calm in fixating upon them. He’s wearing a simple pair of sandals. A robe flows over them. The fabric is white with black designs, There’s a tie at the waist. Wide, flowing sleeves.

And that’s as far as you get. Once your gaze reaches the end of those sleeves, your small moment of tranquility is shattered, because out from under them protrude not one, but two sets of arms.

He talks like a man, but he isn’t. Everything you’ve witnessed - the eyes, the arms - it’s all impossible. But it’s real. You have to trust yourself. You know what you’ve seen. “What are you?”

He - it? - revels in your realization, a grin spreading over his face. “That’s a better question than your last two. But I’m not interested in answering it.” There’s a pause - he calmly tilts his head, thinking something through. “You’re so much fun… I don’t think I want to kill you quickly. I’ll enjoy it much more if I draw it out.” He sighs blissfully - almost theatrically. “It could last hours if I do it right. I’ll get to hear you beg for death long before you go limp in my hands.”

Your body jolts of its own accord, a last-ditch effort at escape, but you can’t find the control to bring yourself to your feet. Your mouth falls open, but no sound comes out.

“Oh, go on,” he sighs. “Beg for your life. But try to make it interesting. You all say the exact same thing, and it’s beginning to wear on me.”

“I…” Your mind is blank with terror, the few words you can summon rushing out of your mouth. “I don’t know what’s happening.” Your tears flow down your face, build up in your throat, choke your words. “I don’t want to die. I want to go home. Please let me go home.” You tense at the swish of his robes - he’s stepping closer, cutting your time short.

“Boring.” He brings up his left hand (one of them) and strikes the side of your face. When you cry out, he repeats the action on the other side. Then, he takes your jaw in his hand, forcing you to look up at him, and brushes away a stray tear as it slides down your cheek. “Try again,” he commands. “I won’t give you a third chance.”

At the last possible moment, a strangely clear thought enters your head. There is no happy ending here. You can’t escape. All you can do is try to save yourself - by any means necessary. So, finally, you allow yourself to meet his gaze, resisting the urge to look away as he bares his teeth. “Do what you want with me. I’ll entertain you in any way you please.” He raises an eyebrow - you’ve managed to say something that interests him. But he wants more. “Let me…” You pause, and force yourself to breathe. In, out. It’s too late to do anything but this. You cannot go back. You have to finish. “Let me prove that I’m more valuable to you alive.”

A rumble of laughter echoes through the cavern, seemingly emerging from the walls themselves. “Fascinating.” He lashes out with one of his hands and wraps it tightly around your neck. “No one’s ever said that before.” You gasp for air, and he slaps another hand over your mouth. “You’re weak…but you have some resolve. I like that.”

You breathe shallowly through your nose, already light-headed, your pulse thudding against his palm.

“I think…” He pauses, staring you down. You don’t look away. “I think I’ll keep you.” The relief in your eyes must be obvious - and it doesn’t last long. “For as long as you can handle it.” Another hand springs out, twists its long fingers through your hair. “For as long as you’re alive…you’re mine. The moment you forget that - the moment you fail, or disobey - that’s when your life will end. Understood?”

You have no choice - you nod as best you can, a fresh wave of tears spilling over as he yanks at your hair.

“Good.” His voice softens, lowers to barely more than a whisper. “We’ll start with something simple.” He sounds almost kind, but you know it’s just part of the game. The fist still grasping at your throat is enough to remind you of that. “Undo the knot at my waist.”

Your hands shake as you bring them up, and you find yourself focusing on small details once again. The cuff of your sleeve is torn, and there’s a smudge of something dark on your left hand - residue from your fall. The knot you’ve been tasked with untying is simple. A single pull at one end unravels it. The fabric is smooth, soft, and there are layers to the robe. The last is made of fine silk, its shine reflecting the dark red glow of the cavern around you. It’s held in place by a silk band, tied with the same simple knot as the first…

When your eyes catch on the space below the knot, you feel a deep pit open up in your stomach. The silhouette before you - it’s wrong. Warped. Exaggerated beyond the point of making any sense at all.

“Haven’t you heard?” drawls the voice above you. “It’s not dignified to stare.” He presses his palm to the back of your neck, urging you closer. “Fortunately, I have no interest in preserving your dignity.”

This is not a man. You’ve seen how this looks on men. The shape he carves in front of you…it’s nothing you’ve ever seen before.

He inhales deeply, and brings up a third hand to trace the line of your jaw. “Go on. I know you’re curious.”

The words sting, because he’s right. You want him to disappear and never return, but for as long as he’s standing over you, you’re going to want to know. It makes you loathe yourself. Makes you want to bury your head in the dust beneath you.

“Don’t make me impatient.” He brings you closer by your hair, and the silk of his robe brushes the tip of your nose. “I have enough in store for you as it is.”

Your fingers flutter over the final knot, missing the end twice before you manage to grasp it. The fabric parts, and you see exactly what your imagination conjured, what you didn’t dare believe before witnessing it yourself. Two thick, vein-laden cocks, one directly above the other, half-hard and already bigger than any man’s should be. Each has two black bands under the tip, reminiscent of the markings on his face - you glance up, and see that his chest is littered with them too.

There’s a part of you that wants to look away. You hate the part of you that doesn’t, that keeps you staring.

He smirks, and plunges your face into him, dragging your cheek down one shaft, up the other. “Choose.” There’s a terrible hunger in his voice, and you can feel him stiffen against your face. “You weren’t made to take both... soon, you will, but today…” He exhales sharply, and runs a finger over your lips. “You get to pick your favorite.”

If he were to pry open your mouth and force himself inside, this wouldn’t be so humiliating. Instead, he drops his hands from your neck and your hair, and waits for you to move, both sets of eyes narrowed in silent mockery. Slowly, you expose your tongue, and - eyes screwed shut - brush it over the lower tip. You feel his hand pass above you, and the second presence seems to disappear. There’s no sigh, no shudder as your tongue drags up his length, no hand on the back of your head as you close your lips around him.

A subtle thrust - with his size, it’s enough to make you sputter. “Why are your eyes closed?” he muses. “Scared of what you’ve seen? Or scared that you’ll enjoy it?”

Your eyes snap open before you can help it, defiance glowing inside them for just a moment.

“Oh, don’t be offended. I don’t care either way. And if you’re struggling, I’m glad to help you along.”

You try to shake your head - too late. He knots his hand through your hair once again, gradually pushing you down until it’s too much and you can’t stop yourself from gagging, choking. You’re nowhere near the base, but it doesn’t matter. He’s too big for you, and he knows it, but he holds you where you are, unmoved as you instinctively try to pull back. You feel like you can’t breath - if it wasn’t suicide, you’d use your teeth to escape -

He pulls you up. You take a breath, and immediately have it pressed from your lungs as he tugs you forward again. Again, again - each time he seems to test you more, force more into your throat, and the more you struggle, the more violent it turns. A pair of fingernails slices your cheek, slashes through the tunic clinging raggedly to your shoulder, scratches at the skin beneath.

You can hear his heavy breaths, although you wonder whether he even needs to breathe, or only does it for effect. You need to breathe - there’s an odd taste in your mouth beneath the feel of his skin, the metallic tang of pushing yourself too far, but he gives you no time to ponder it.

He lets go of your hair. “Keep going. Prove yourself.”

You ignore the blood dripping down your cheek, ignore the pounding in your temples, and do as he says. No hesitation - you force yourself down again and again, as if you still have his hand at the back of your head, choking yourself on his cock.

“ That’s right.”

You’re crying - truly, fully crying - but you don’t stop to wipe the tears away, even when you feel them building up in your nose. Stopping is not an option. Failing…you can’t even think about what would happen then.

Two heavy hands fall upon your shoulders, knuckles tightening - you hold yourself still while he tenses, his cock wedged deep in your throat, stilling your breath completely. His grip is tight, controlled, until he’s emptied himself inside you, until you’ve swallowed every drop.

He recovers all too quickly, stepping back and hauling you to your feet.

“You have promise.” Without warning, he plunges his hand down your trousers, inside your undergarments, carefully stroking the pads of his fingers over the slit of your cunt. His eyes widen, and his lips curl. “And you’re wet …why is that?”

Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly. It doesn’t make sense to you, either.

“Embarrassed? Perhaps you should be. I was under the impression that this was a last resort for you. Not something you’d been craving…” He tugs at your trousers and the waistband beneath, leaving you bare to the knees, and drops you to the ground, presses you onto your back. “Touch yourself.”

“Now?” You hate how pathetic you sound, hate the way it amuses him.

“Yes.” He grabs your wrist, guides it between your legs. “Get yourself worked up for me. Looking at the state of you, I doubt it will take long.”

You’ve never done this with someone watching you. Your fingers are clumsy, slowly tracing over your body, your mind struggling to fall into the right place. When he clasps one hand over your eyes and another over your mouth, it gets easier - although you know better than to ever admit it.

“Look at you. Any sensible human would find this impossible. But you…you’re actually enjoying yourself right now.” You pause, and he slaps a third hand over your own. “Don’t stop. I want to see what this does to you.” He clicks his tongue disapprovingly, slides the hand to your inner thigh. “You’re terrified - those pretty tear-stains on your face are good enough proof of that. But there’s something in you that’s conflicted…” He replaces your slowly-moving hand with his own, pinching your clit between his fingers. “I don’t mind. It means I get to push you harder before you break.”

You squirm uncontrollably. This is pleasure and pain in equal measures, and the fact that you don’t really want it to stop sends a fresh wave of shame rolling over you. You try to ignore it. You know you have no choice. It was this, or a much more permanent fate. If you manage to enjoy a small part of it, that’s not such a bad thing…

“I think that’s enough.” He stops, and your whimpers are muffled as he flips you onto your stomach and presses your face to the ground. “Maybe I’ll let you try again later. For now…” He pulls your hands behind your back, brings your feet up to meet them, secures yours ankles to your wrists with the discarded ties from his robes. “You’re going to be unsupervised for a while. I don’t want you getting into any trouble while I’m gone.”

You’re not sure where he goes - you can’t bring yourself to lift your face until long after his footsteps have faded away. When you do, you topple onto your side, and stare cross-eyed at the blurred walls around you. You wonder if he only left to savor the feeling of cutting your pleasure short, or to give you time to imagine what he might do to you upon his return. It’s effective. You know that this was only your first test, and with nothing to distract you, you can’t help but picture what might come next.

Only a few paces from you, there’s a chilling sight - a human skull lying crooked on the ground, a jagged hole visible on its brow. When you see it, you’re newly aware of the cuts on your cheek, the sting of blood drying on your skin. He was holding back. Being gentle, by his own standards.

You’ll give everything you have to keep him that way.

gojo is the typa guy who puts on a pair of plastic fangs with a normal outfit and calls it a costume (no one calls him out bc they’re kinda sexy on him)

edging w/ your jjk men

a collection.

total word count: ~3.8k (1200-1300 each)

pairing(s): gojo x reader, geto x reader, sukuna x reader

content tags: all nsfw (obviously). Details for each ⬇️

Gojo: choking, biting, a lil bit of begging, whole lotta teasing, eating out, simultaneous orgasms

Geto: slowwww teasing, bondage, bit of slapping (thighs), eating out + fingering through panties (and then eventually without them)

Sukuna: ok so - fingering, eating out, heavy degradation, honorifics, begging, biting, choking, dacryphilia, throat-fucking, facial, orgasm denial, literally stepping on you, i think that’s everything??

been working on this for a while, hope you enjoy...

GOJO.

He’s almost always sweet to you, precisely because he knows how powerful he is. He shows it off to the rest of the world, but with you, he doesn’t have to. He wants you to feel good, wants to make you cherish every second you spend alone together, wants to make you come, sometimes multiple times in a row, until you have nothing else to give - and like everything else, it’s easy for him. He’ll wrap his arms around you when it’s all over, bury his face in your hair, tell you that he loved every second of it just as much as you did. Almost every time, that’s how it ends.

But then there are the other times, when you see that feral spark in his eyes, and realize that you’re about to be his outlet for everything that he’s been holding back. It starts with the little things - instead of caressing your face, his hand curls around your neck, and his kisses are rough, his teeth sinking without warning into your bottom lip, his eyes still open, shining far too bright. He unbuttons his shirt and undresses you in seconds, plunges his hand between your thighs, grins when he realizes how wet his onslaught has made you, cackling at the shock in your eyes. He throws you onto your back, and for a moment things are just the same as always - he’s eating you out like he’s starving, and you know that it won’t be long before you finally get the release you’ve been craving - it never does take long with him. Not unless he decides to drag it out. He’s not dragging it out today - you can already feel your body tensing, preparing for the wave of pleasure that’s about to roll over it -

He moves. Unnaturally fast. His mouth is at your neck, instead of between your legs, and you’re confused, disoriented, crying out in pain as his teeth sink into your skin. He pushes himself up on his hands, hovering over you, and that wild grin flashes across his face once again.

“Satoru…”

“Yeah? You want something?” His face is so close to yours that your eyes cross trying to look at him, and he cackles again, his tongue darting over his lips. “You gotta ask nicely if you want something. How am I supposed to know otherwise?”

You glare up at him - there’s far too much pride in his voice. He’s so pleased with himself, and you think you might hate him for it.

“What? You mad?” He bites his lip, and slithers back down between your legs, tracing a single finger up your inner thigh. “Want me to make it up to you?”

You stay silent. Inside, you’re burning, desperate for him to finish you, but you can’t tell him that. You’ll never hear the end of it.

“No?” He sighs dramatically and rolls over your leg onto his side, smirking slightly as you gasp at the sudden pressure. “Guess I’ll just leave, then.”

You stare, horrified, as he stands and does up the buttons of his shirt. He slowly makes his way towards the door, not throwing so much as a glance in your direction. Without thinking, you sit up and call out after him. “Satoru!”

“Yeah?” He turns his head over his shoulder, smiling innocently. “You wanna kiss me goodbye?”

“No.” You mumble something unintelligible, and he crosses the room in an instant, diving on top of you and pinning you to the mattress, wrapping his hand around your jaw.

“Hm? I didn’t hear you!”

You take a deep breath, your eyes still narrowed in anger, resenting the firm grip forcing you to look at him as you speak. “I said, I want you to make it up to me.” He tilts his head, waiting, and you grit your teeth. “Please.”

“There you go.” He twists his free hand through your hair, holding you in place as he kisses you, sloppily, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You can feel his hard cock pressing through the fabric of his pants, and you can’t stop yourself from grinding against it, although you’re all too aware of the effect your desperation has on him. The hand grasping your face slowly slides down to your throat. “You want me to make you cum?” He effortlessly flips you onto your stomach and falls upon you, one hand undoing his trousers while the other stays firm upon your neck. His cock brushes against your inner thigh, inches from slipping inside you. With his trousers discarded on the floor, he slips his hand under your hips. His fingers circle your clit, making you gasp and squirm beneath him. He leans in close, breathing heavily in your ear. “You wanna cum around my cock?” He’s teasing you, stroking his cock slowly over your entrance, sighing tantalizingly as he feels how wet you are, how ready you are for him. His hand tightens around your neck, urging you to speak before he squeezes the breath out of you.

It’s all too much for you to resist. “Yes,” you gasp. Your voice muffled by the sheets beneath you. You raise your voice. “Yes. I - I want you to fuck me. Wanna cum for you. Please, Sato-“

The last of the air leaves your lungs as he thrusts into you, ravenously, as if he’s been waiting for hours instead of just minutes. His fingers stroke at your clit as he nips haphazardly at your neck and ear, sighing with pleasure as he pounds at your cunt, and you suddenly realize that he’s been just as desperate as you this whole time - he’s just much better at hiding it. Good enough to make you beg for what he’s wanted all along. And you don’t care - what he’s doing to you feels far too good for you to think about it anymore. You can feel yourself practically drool onto the sheets beneath you, surges of heat sweeping across your skin as he presses into you, somehow touching every inch of you at once, from your hair to the edges of your thighs.

“Talk to me,” he whispers, urgent and intense - this time, you don’t hesitate for a moment.

“‘S so good - please keep going. Thank you…”

He’s so satisfied by your response that he practically hums in your ear, his hips driving into you with such force that you cry out in pain-and-pleasure, your hand scrabbling desperately at the sheets, a fresh thrill of heat spreading through your core. “You’re gonna cum with me,” he whispers. "Yeah?"

“Y-yes. Thank you. Yes.” Your legs twitch beneath him, and your orgasm radiates through your body, lingering as his cock spasms inside you, his grip tightening - he groans heavily, and you take his cum inside of you, basking in your own afterglow as he finishes and collapses over your body, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

You stay like that for a long time, pressed up against each other, uncharacteristically silent.

“Worth it,” you murmur, half hoping that he won’t hear you. Of course, he does.

“I know.” You can practically feel that self-satisfied grin spreading over his face. “We’ll do it again.” His voice softens. “You did good for me.” He nuzzles his face against your skin. “Did I do good for you?”

You sigh, sounding nearly as dramatic as him. “Yes. But don’t let it go to your head.”

“Too late.”

You groan, and half-heartedly try to push him off of you. He doesn’t move an inch.

“You just say the word when you want it like that again,” he murmurs. “Until then, I’ll be sweet. I swear.”

You believe him. After all, this time has ended just like all the rest. Whispered reassurances, his arms wrapped around you, fingers stroking through your hair. You could never really be mad at him. He’s far, far too good for that.

GETO.

He knows how to take his time. There’s no reason to rush - he knows that he has you for as long as he wants you. He’s slow to undress you, running his finger up the side-seam of your shirt before pulling it over your head, tracing a hand over your stomach just above the waistline of your jeans before he even undoes the top button, running his hand up your thigh and teasing you through the stiff fabric, daring you to grind into his palm. He lays you down and kisses you slowly, but not gently - his tongue probes into your mouth, and he tugs at your bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls back. As he finally takes off your jeans, you become very aware of the fact that he’s still fully clothed. His hands slide under your back, undoing your bra, but he keeps your panties on - for now. You squirm, restless, unable to hide your eager anticipation of his next move.

“Be patient.” He’s exploring you at his leisure, kissing your forehead, your lips, sucking at the side of your neck. You involuntarily writhe beneath him - you can tell that this is going to leave a mark, but you don’t care about that right now. If anything - it’s not quite enough.

“Be still.” His voice is utterly soft and controlled, starkly contrasting with the whimpers that escape from your mouth as he kisses your breast, flicking your nipple with his tongue, and slides his hand between your legs, teasing you over your panties - you’re wet already, and infuriatingly, his touch seems to lighten as he realizes this.

You reach up, desperate to touch him, to see more of him. But he catches your wrists and pins them above your head. “Still having trouble, hm?” He smiles condescendingly, shaking his head. “I thought you would’ve learned by now. You’re only going to draw this out even more.”

He kisses you hard, swallowing up the protest about to issue from your mouth, his grip tightening around your wrists. As soon as he lets go, your hands jump to his hair, and again, he catches them. His eyes narrow, his voice deathly quiet. “What did I just say?”

Sometimes, you just can’t resist making a bad decision. “That you’re gonna draw things out?” Your voice is too loud, too defiant - and far more confident than you feel. “As if I mind spending more”-

He slaps his hand over your mouth. “You don’t mind yet.” There’s an unusual smile on his face, unlike any you’ve seen from him before. It’s almost scary, the way his dark eyes seem to pierce right through yours. “But you will.”

You cringe as he reaches for the drawer of his dresser and pulls out a couple short lengths of cord. He’s tied your wrists before, and not being allowed to touch him is always agonizing. But you can handle it. You have before. And the emergence of that rope usually means that the teasing is nearing its end. After all - even he can’t hold out forever.

But to your surprise, it’s not your wrists that he takes hold of. Instead, he grabs your ankles and effortlessly folds you in half, pulls your arms up to meet your legs - you struggle, slightly, but not nearly enough to give him any trouble. In an instant, two tight loops pull your limbs together, pressing your forearms to your shins, your feet in the air, the ropes tight enough that you know they'll leave an impression when he removes them.

But that won’t be any time soon. You can barely move, can’t keep yourself upright on your own, and you know better than to speak again. He steadies you, wrapping his arms around your legs, parting them, and drags his tongue carefully down your inner thigh. Then, finally, over your cunt - but the lace of your panties is still in the way, and you grind desperately into his mouth, only becoming more desperate as he smirks up at you, his nails digging into your vulnerable skin. “So worked up already…I think it’s a good thing we kept these on. Wouldn’t want you getting overwhelmed.”

You whine pathetically as he presses his face into you once more, continuing his slow tease, his hand slipping from your thigh to circle your clit, tugging back and forth at the thin fabric covering you, refusing to push it aside. There’s an awful heat growing inside of you, begging for more. It’s not enough - but at the same time, entirely too much. You’re falling apart in his hands, his tight grip the only thing holding you together.

The worst thing - you might be able to come like this. Without him ever touching you directly - it could end. He has that much control over you. If he wants it to happen, it will - the realization only drives you closer to the edge.

“Pretty girl,” he murmurs, pressing his lips to the top of your thigh, his hand still tormenting you with its slow, delicate strokes. “You’re close, aren’t you? I can see it in your face.”

You don’t doubt it - you can feel the heat rushing to your cheeks, flooding every inch of your skin.

“And I can feel it.” He slips a single finger under your panties, sliding over the mess beneath, drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth. “Do you even realize how much you’re shaking?”

You hadn’t - your attention is entirely on him. “Please…take them off…wanna cum…”

He laughs softly, eyes darting to the place where your wrists meet your legs, your hands curling white-knuckled around your ankles. “How would I do that?”

“Then…pull them to the side…”

“A much more reasonable request.” He adds a second finger to the first, and curls them inside you, that strange smile spreading once again over his face as you squirm and sigh in a mixture of desire and relief. After so much denial, it’s not going to take much - you can already feel yourself clenching around him, his fingers working you up to the point of no return. “But then again…” He drops his gaze, following the line of his wrist, and - without warning - completely stops what he’s doing. “I’m not always inclined to be reasonable.”

Your mouth falls open in shock as he pulls back entirely, the gathering pleasure inside of you replaced by a stinging pain as he strikes the back of one thigh, then the other. His other hand holds your legs together, securing you by the ankles. He presses on, scattering red marks across your thighs, until he finally gets the satisfaction of hearing you cry out.

“That’s right.” He trails the back of his hand across your skin, then finally grabs the scrap of lace between your legs, yanking it up just enough for him to drag his tongue over you, luxuriating in the shuddering breath that seems to ripple out across your entire body. He’s not teasing anymore - he’s relentless, and you melt completely, only praying that he doesn’t stop again before your mind goes entirely blank.

He doesn’t stop. Not this time. Before long, you’re shaking again, only aware of his tongue, and his hands gripping your thighs, and -

You tense one final time, and then the wave comes crashing down over you - and he doesn’t stop, even as your head falls back into the mattress beneath you, a glowing sensation spreading over you from the inside out.

Only when he’s taken everything you have out of you - only then does he sit up, untie you, and flip you onto your side, wrapping his arms around you, pressing his face into your hair. He doesn’t say anything - and you don’t feel the need to, either. Like with everything else - you know that there’s no need to rush.

SUKUNA.

Oh. You poor, sweet thing. You’re so fucking naive. Sukuna doesn’t give a shit about your pleasure, but he’s going to act like he does just so he can rip it all away. You’ve been so good for him today, on your knees, taking his cock down your throat over, over, and over, and when it’s finally finished - when your face is such a sloppy mess that you can’t tell whether it’s spit or tears or his come running down your neck - you’re sure that you’ve finally earned the orgasm he’s been denying you for days. And he’s being so much more generous than usual - he pins you to the ground, wraps his arms around your legs, and buries his face in your cunt, tongue finding your clit, sharp nails digging into your thighs, sending you hurtling towards the most intense climax of your life. You grab his hair and grind into his mouth, wanting more, more, more -

And at the last moment - the last possible moment - he stops. He stops, and he smiles. Ferociously. Teeth bared. His hand wraps around your throat - in a second he’s on top of you, the tip of his cock teasing you open, his face hovering menacingly over yours. “You want me to do it again.” It’s not a question, but you nod as if it is, and his fingers tighten dangerously against your neck. “You want me to make you suffer.” Again, you respond, this time with a fervent shake of your head. “Hm? Is this too much for you already?”

If you tried to speak, it would come out as a wretched gasp, so you wait in silence, your entire body tensing in anticipation of his next words.

“How unfortunate. I didn’t think you were that weak.” He presses his lips to your ear, and jabs two fingers into your mouth, laughing cruelly as you gag and writhe beneath him. “We’re not done. Not even close.”

His body glides slowly over yours, and this time, you feel a sinking feeling of dread as his tongue brushes over you. “Please…”

“That’s right.” He looks up at you for a moment before sinking his teeth into your inner thigh, and you hear yourself wail in shock and despair. “Beg me. Tell me how badly your worthless little cunt wants to cum.”

“Please…Ryomen…”

As soon as his name falls off your tongue, you know that you’ve made a mistake. He revels in it, doubling his assault on your thighs as he slides his fingers inside of you, their every twist and stroke bringing you closer to the precipice you know awaits you.

“Use my name again, and I will make sure that you spend your entire life like this. All pent up with absolutely nowhere to go.” Your cunt clenches around his fingers, and he pulls back a second time, running his knuckles over the dark marks slowly forming on your skin. “You have one more chance.”

“Master…” You feel like your mind has been ripped away from you. And it doesn’t matter - your fate will be the same no matter what you say. “I - I can’t…”

“Such a shame.” He reaches up to your face and parts your lips once again, forcing you to taste yourself on his fingers. “Little brat can’t even do the one thing she’s supposed to be good at.”

This third time, you wonder if maybe - just maybe - he’ll make you cum by accident. You’re so worked up - it won’t take much. But he’s going so slow, alternating between his hand and his tongue, not giving you nearly enough of either. You can feel tears welling up in your eyes, and he seems to sense them, pulling away from your thighs for a third time, suspending his face over yours, staring intently, a cruel smile spreading across his face.

“It’s so easy to make you cry.” His cock teases over your cunt again, and you sob in desperation, closing your eyes, trying to shut out some of the stimulation that’s coming close to driving you insane. He cracks his hand sharply against your cheek, and your eyelids flutter open. “Don’t hide. Even you know better than that.” He pushes himself back onto his knees, straddling your chest, and wraps his hand around his cock, his grin widening as you instinctively part your lips.

“Please…master…”

He strokes his cock over your face, taking immense satisfaction in the desperation written across it.

“Please. Fuck me. I…I need you.”

He tilts his head for a moment, like he’s considering, his hand slowing but never stopping. Your stomach sinks as his tongue flicks over his lips, exaggerating the ferocity of his smile. “No. You’ll cum if I fuck you.“

You whine - it sounds pathetic even to your ears. “Why won’t you let me?”

His eyes narrow, and he spits in your face, his grip on himself tightening as he watches it drip down your cheek. “You exist for my pleasure.” He hurtles forward, and his nails twist through your hair and dig into your scalp. You open your mouth without a thought, and he thrusts deep into your throat - you try to bolt backwards, but his grip is firm, and your weak efforts to struggle only drive him deeper into you, the sounds escaping from your lips only spurring him on. “For all I care,” he hisses, “you could go the rest of your life without ever having that release again.“

At the last moment, he lets go of your hair, and as the back of your head scrapes the hard ground beneath you, his cum spurts across your face - before you have a moment to breathe, he’s flipped you onto your stomach. Your clothes are lying discarded somewhere nearby - he rips a strip of fabric from your shirt and ties it tightly around your wrists, securing them behind your back.

“You exist for me,” he murmurs, his voice so low that it sends a fresh shudder through your body. “Not for yourself. When you’re not serving me, your fragile little life is worth nothing at all. So…” He rises to his feet, and presses the sole of his foot into your back. “You’re going to wait here until I’m ready to use you again. I suggest you spend that time thinking about what you’ll say when I return.” He steps over you, the weight of his body pressing into your spine as his sole pushes away from your body, and he laughs again as you squeal in pain. “Such a pathetic little creature. You’re lucky that I’ve found such a good use for you. Maybe I’ll even fuck you next time, if I like the way you beg.”

He retreats into the shadows, leaving you face-down, face ruined, still squirming, thighs clenching around nothing, your entire body still burning with desire. You’ll be good for him when he returns. He says that you exist for him…. and after this, you have no choice but to believe it.

i have a very dark mahito drabble sitting in my drafts right now and i do not know if i have the courage to post it