midnightspasms

[midnightspasms]

Sukuna's walking a thin line when it comes to his relationship with you. There's the part of him that considers you his best friend, the one person he's comfortable enough to tell everything to.

Then there's the part of him that's undeniably attracted to you. And it's not just your looks.

Sukuna loves the idea of you; the pretty rich girl who shouldn't be hanging out with him, the one whose father scowls at him every minute, whose friends can't help but stare at him in fear and disdain.

You're everything he's been told he can never be. You are the perfection his chaos can never become, and he can't help but love it, can't help but chase after it again and again.

It blurs the line that keeps you two as friends.

It's what has his arm around you during lunch, has him breaking his wallet to buy you your stupid lattes and your stupid shoes and jewellery. It's what has him keeping you on his lap at parties, gatherings.

It's what has his palms sneaking under your skirt, fingers tracing the lace outline of your panties as you sit on his lap in the stupid little gathering he'd pulled you to.

"You horny?" Sukuna whispers into your ear as his middle finger reaches the damp crotch of your panties, pushing the fabric between your lips. "Cause you're so fucking wet, baby."

You suck in a breath. Your lower half is obscured by the table before before you, but you're certain if someone were to come round, if someone were to just crane their neck a bit to peak, they'd see his hands between your legs.

"Sukuna..." Your words come out breathy, and the stimulation has your eyes fluttering. You hang your head low as you try to hide the pleasure etching itself unto your face.

He pulls your underwear to the side, and practically sighs when the pad of his finger touches your bare pussy. He groans as he gets a feel for it, rubbing along your slit before going up to gently tug at your clit.

You bite your lip, holding your moans as his middle and ring finger begin to push into you inch by delicious inch, the thumb of his other hand still working your clit so well.

You're pulsing around the two fingers stuffing your pussy, liquid pooling out as he pumps them in and out of you.

He presses forward, bringing his mouth to your ear. "Let's leave, yeah?" He ghosts your entrance. "I wanna taste your pussy, baby."

You're too dazed to think when he fucks you in his car. Sukuna has you bouncing on his dick in the driver's seat, your legs around his waist as he guides you up and down his rock hard cock.

He has a hand on your throat, squeezing gently.

"You're so fucking sexy, baby," he whispers as he watches you, eyes going from your face to your tits bouncing so erotically for him.

The empty parking lot is quiet save for the unmistakable sounds of sex; squelching pussy on dick, skin slapping and low, breathy moans from you and Sukuna.

"Ride me. Fuck- fuck this cock like you own it." He groans, raising his hip to meet you every time you come down on his cock. He's so out of it, staring at you with half lidded eyes as you whine and moan from how good his dick is in you.

His thighs are glistening with pre-cum and the spit from when he'd eaten your pussy, and the way your greedy hole's squeezing him in and pulsing around his shaft has his head falling back as he fucks into you.

"Kuna," You moan, eyes tightly shut as you're fucked into his dashboard, your back rubbing uncomfortably against it. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not with how good his dick feels moving in and out of your tight pussy.

One of Sukuna's hands come up to grab at your left tit, the one on your neck coming down to furiously rub at your clit.

"Cum for me, baby," he pleads as his thighs begin to quake and his orgasm nears, "Come on. Give it to me, girl. Cum on this cock- it's begging, baby."

The problem with stepping across the line that defines your relationship is that you two weren't ready for it. You understood each other, but that doesn't mean you fit all that well.

He wants you, badly.

You want him too.

But that's not always enough. He's mean and he's rude, and he doesn't know how to be the kind of man you want. And you're not ready to compromise for his shortcomings.

You last two weeks before you fight.

"We were just texting!" Sukuna screams out, following after you as you stalk away from his bedroom, quickly crossing the hallway to his living room.

"She's sending you nudes!"

"Nudes? She was dressed!"

"In lingerie!"

Sukuna doesn't know how to set boundaries. He's never had to. He doesn't date. You're the first girl he's ever been interested in like that, and his pride and narcissism have him believing that you had to accommodate for his shortcomings.

That you had to manage his problems because he likes you and you know that, and you know you're his first girlfriend, and isn't that what a relationship is all about? Working through things?

The fact that you're not willing to is what pisses him off.

"She shouldn't be doing that. You shouldn't be allowing her! It's cheating!" You yell at him harshly, shoving him back as he approaches you.

"I can't get pictures now? It's not like I'm fucking touching her! You know I wouldn't touch her."

"It doesn't matter. Cheating isn't just touching, Sukuna! I don't want you interacting with other girls like that!"

He's boiling now, pissed at how you're talking to him, like you're trying to dictate his life.

"That's how I am! That's how I've always been. You knew that, and you still agreed to date me!"

"What? No! You asking me to date you meant that you'd stop all of this!"

It turns into a screaming match, with you walking out of his life.

And he thinks he's good for a while. Sukuna spends his nights in clubs, faded as fuck with girls all over him like he's some shiny lady-magnet. He posts his nights on his private story so you can see it.

He regularly drives past places he knows you frequently go to in hopes of running into you. He passes by your friend's places in hopes of seeing you. Everything he does is done with the intention of catching your attention.

It rakes him 5 weeks to show up at your doorstep again, eyes bloodshot and posture slumped.

Sukuna's mouth is on yours the minute you open the door, lips gently moving over your own as he holds your body to his. "I won't talk to her again," he murmurs, gently pushing you into your house and shutting the door behind him. "I won't talk to any other girl again. I swear, baby. Just take me back, baby."

Some may call you stupid for going back, but they're not here to hear the desperation in his voice, nor can they see the clear need in his eyes as he looks at you.

"Promise?" You whisper against his mouth, your hands in his hair as your breaths mingle.

"Promise, baby." His mouth moves to your neck, attacking the skin with teeth and tongue, "Fuck all the rest. I don't want them."

[midnightspasms]

showing up after 5 weeks of girls being on his story?? oh he must be out of his damn mind😒 I would've slammed the door on his dumbass

😭😭😭I do not condone Reader's actionss

maybe

[midnightspasms]

i damn near fell to my knees seeing reader take him back after she saw his private stories🙂‍↕️

I can't even defend her😭😭😭😭😭😭 but come on, it's Sukunaaa

[midnightspasms]

Sukuna's walking a thin line when it comes to his relationship with you. There's the part of him that considers you his best friend, the one person he's comfortable enough to tell everything to.

Then there's the part of him that's undeniably attracted to you. And it's not just your looks.

Sukuna loves the idea of you; the pretty rich girl who shouldn't be hanging out with him, the one whose father scowls at him every minute, whose friends can't help but stare at him in fear and disdain.

You're everything he's been told he can never be. You are the perfection his chaos can never become, and he can't help but love it, can't help but chase after it again and again.

It blurs the line that keeps you two as friends.

It's what has his arm around you during lunch, has him breaking his wallet to buy you your stupid lattes and your stupid shoes and jewellery. It's what has him keeping you on his lap at parties, gatherings.

It's what has his palms sneaking under your skirt, fingers tracing the lace outline of your panties as you sit on his lap in the stupid little gathering he'd pulled you to.

"You horny?" Sukuna whispers into your ear as his middle finger reaches the damp crotch of your panties, pushing the fabric between your lips. "Cause you're so fucking wet, baby."

You suck in a breath. Your lower half is obscured by the table before before you, but you're certain if someone were to come round, if someone were to just crane their neck a bit to peak, they'd see his hands between your legs.

"Sukuna..." Your words come out breathy, and the stimulation has your eyes fluttering. You hang your head low as you try to hide the pleasure etching itself unto your face.

He pulls your underwear to the side, and practically sighs when the pad of his finger touches your bare pussy. He groans as he gets a feel for it, rubbing along your slit before going up to gently tug at your clit.

You bite your lip, holding your moans as his middle and ring finger begin to push into you inch by delicious inch, the thumb of his other hand still working your clit so well.

You're pulsing around the two fingers stuffing your pussy, liquid pooling out as he pumps them in and out of you.

He presses forward, bringing his mouth to your ear. "Let's leave, yeah?" He ghosts your entrance. "I wanna taste your pussy, baby."

You're too dazed to think when he fucks you in his car. Sukuna has you bouncing on his dick in the driver's seat, your legs around his waist as he guides you up and down his rock hard cock.

He has a hand on your throat, squeezing gently.

"You're so fucking sexy, baby," he whispers as he watches you, eyes going from your face to your tits bouncing so erotically for him.

The empty parking lot is quiet save for the unmistakable sounds of sex; squelching pussy on dick, skin slapping and low, breathy moans from you and Sukuna.

"Ride me. Fuck- fuck this cock like you own it." He groans, raising his hip to meet you every time you come down on his cock. He's so out of it, staring at you with half lidded eyes as you whine and moan from how good his dick is in you.

His thighs are glistening with pre-cum and the spit from when he'd eaten your pussy, and the way your greedy hole's squeezing him in and pulsing around his shaft has his head falling back as he fucks into you.

"Kuna," You moan, eyes tightly shut as you're fucked into his dashboard, your back rubbing uncomfortably against it. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not with how good his dick feels moving in and out of your tight pussy.

One of Sukuna's hands come up to grab at your left tit, the one on your neck coming down to furiously rub at your clit.

"Cum for me, baby," he pleads as his thighs begin to quake and his orgasm nears, "Come on. Give it to me, girl. Cum on this cock- it's begging, baby."

The problem with stepping across the line that defines your relationship is that you two weren't ready for it. You understood each other, but that doesn't mean you fit all that well.

He wants you, badly.

You want him too.

But that's not always enough. He's mean and he's rude, and he doesn't know how to be the kind of man you want. And you're not ready to compromise for his shortcomings.

You last two weeks before you fight.

"We were just texting!" Sukuna screams out, following after you as you stalk away from his bedroom, quickly crossing the hallway to his living room.

"She's sending you nudes!"

"Nudes? She was dressed!"

"In lingerie!"

Sukuna doesn't know how to set boundaries. He's never had to. He doesn't date. You're the first girl he's ever been interested in like that, and his pride and narcissism have him believing that you had to accommodate for his shortcomings.

That you had to manage his problems because he likes you and you know that, and you know you're his first girlfriend, and isn't that what a relationship is all about? Working through things?

The fact that you're not willing to is what pisses him off.

"She shouldn't be doing that. You shouldn't be allowing her! It's cheating!" You yell at him harshly, shoving him back as he approaches you.

"I can't get pictures now? It's not like I'm fucking touching her! You know I wouldn't touch her."

"It doesn't matter. Cheating isn't just touching, Sukuna! I don't want you interacting with other girls like that!"

He's boiling now, pissed at how you're talking to him, like you're trying to dictate his life.

"That's how I am! That's how I've always been. You knew that, and you still agreed to date me!"

"What? No! You asking me to date you meant that you'd stop all of this!"

It turns into a screaming match, with you walking out of his life.

And he thinks he's good for a while. Sukuna spends his nights in clubs, faded as fuck with girls all over him like he's some shiny lady-magnet. He posts his nights on his private story so you can see it.

He regularly drives past places he knows you frequently go to in hopes of running into you. He passes by your friend's places in hopes of seeing you. Everything he does is done with the intention of catching your attention.

It rakes him 5 weeks to show up at your doorstep again, eyes bloodshot and posture slumped.

Sukuna's mouth is on yours the minute you open the door, lips gently moving over your own as he holds your body to his. "I won't talk to her again," he murmurs, gently pushing you into your house and shutting the door behind him. "I won't talk to any other girl again. I swear, baby. Just take me back, baby."

Some may call you stupid for going back, but they're not here to hear the desperation in his voice, nor can they see the clear need in his eyes as he looks at you.

"Promise?" You whisper against his mouth, your hands in his hair as your breaths mingle.

"Promise, baby." His mouth moves to your neck, attacking the skin with teeth and tongue, "Fuck all the rest. I don't want them."

[midnightspasms]

Adorable, I must say

𐔌 ᩧ ຼ ˳ 　　　You had both planned this for a while now—a simple hangout. Sukuna, being his usual aloof self, had grumbled when you suggested it, but he eventually agreed. There was something almost amusing about how he always acted like he didn’t care, like spending time with you was some kind of chore. But you knew better. Beneath that stoic front was someone who felt much more than he let on, and sometimes, you caught glimpses of that.

As you sat on the couch waiting for him to finish getting ready, you noticed his phone buzz on the armrest next to you. The screen lit up, and out of the corner of your eye, you caught a notification from his calendar app. You blinked, your heart skipping a beat as you read it.

"Reminder: Date."

Date? You glanced up at him, feeling your stomach do a little flip. Wait, did he think this was a date? You had just thought it was a casual day out, something simple. But the word on his phone said otherwise. You tried to shake the thought, but it lingered, filling you with a strange sense of warmth.

On the outside, Sukuna looked as if he couldn’t be bothered—his normal eyes gazed ahead as if the day was just another mundane task, but his lower set, the ones he never liked to acknowledge, remained fixed on you. Always watching, always checking.

He huffed under his breath as if annoyed, but you knew better. His body language, though subtle, gave him away. The way he kept closer to you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you both got up to leave—it was all telling, even if he wouldn’t admit it out loud.

“Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, already walking toward the door.

You smiled softly to yourself, not commenting on the “date” reminder. It wasn’t worth teasing him about, especially when you were sure he’d just deny it or brush it off like it was nothing. But knowing that he had marked today as something more than just hanging out? That was enough.

Once outside, Sukuna stayed in step with you, even though he pretended not to. You noticed it in the smallest ways—how his gaze would flicker to you every time you spoke, how his body shifted just a little bit closer whenever you crossed the street. His gruff exterior was intact, but there was a protective undertone to his presence, one that wasn’t as obvious until you paid attention.

As you both wandered through town, you couldn’t help but find it endearing how Sukuna tried so hard to act indifferent. But even as he kept his usual mask of disinterest, his actions betrayed him. When he walked slightly ahead of you, you noticed how he slowed down just enough for you to catch up. When you passed by a busy crowd, his arm would occasionally brush against yours, the small touch grounding you in his presence.

There were moments when his eyes flicked to yours, a quick glance before looking away, but the warmth in those fleeting seconds told you everything you needed to know. Even though he might not admit it—especially not out loud—this day was something special to him.

It was more than just a hangout. It was a date. At least, to him, it was.

And though Sukuna might never say the words, might never give you a traditional display of affection, the way he lingered just a little too long at your side, the way his eyes never strayed too far from you, was enough.

He didn’t need to say it. You were his, and days like these—just like you—meant more to him than he’d ever let on.　　‿ ݂۫ ׄ ༊࿔

[midnightspasms]

"Won't you sing for me?"

Sukuna sees when you sing to Uraume, and it fills him with a burning need to have you.

He watches you sit at his companion's feet, your head on their lap, and their hand twisted in your hair as you sing, so beautiful, so melodic.

Who are you? Some servant girl he has never once noticed. Some mere mortal he has never bothered with before.

How can this sound flow from mortal lips?

He watches, transfixed as you sing, standing just behind the doors that lead to the balcony from his room, feeling like a thief in his own home. His four eyes are trained on you, on the top of your head, as you keep singing.

You just keep singing!

'Is this sorcery?' He thinks as he turns back, away from the scene of your serenade.

That night, he calls you to his room for the very first time.

There is a stiffness in Uraume's stride as they enter the servant chambers to call you. Your chest beats hard as you make your way down the dark walls, goosebumps erupting all over your flesh as you're face to face with the mahogany doors of his rooms.

When you open, the king of Curses is sat languidly on the plush chair in the middle of his room, his thick legs spread wide with pride. His chest is bare, and it gleams, planes of muscle exposed to your eyes, his thighs barely covered by the white fabric of his kimono.

He is silent as he urges you forward, staring as you stand right before him.

He stretches out his hand to you then, his pupils dilated, but his eyes soft as he beckons you. "Closer," with a voice deep and smooth like warm honey.

He curls his fingers forward briefly as he calls you to him. And as though possessed by the heat of his gaze, you find yourself walking forward without hesitation.

When Sukuna sits you on his lap, your body feels as though it's been engulfed in flames. His lower pair of arms are on your thighs, monstrously large palms caressing the skin of your legs. The upper left arm supports his head, elbow on the arm of the chair, the upper right just resting against the other arm of his chair.

His touch is as hot as his gaze, and the proximity has your throat tightening and your stomach twisting.

He reaches under your clothing, and embarrassingly, your legs spread wider for his hand almost automatically. When his finger comes to touch the slick of your heat, your mouth falls open in a light moan.

His idle arm comes up to thumb at your bottom lip softly. Then the one that was just between your legs comes up too, rubbing your wetness on your mouth.

"Sing," Sukuna says to you with that honeyed voice, that tone that makes you desperate for his approval.

And you sing for him.

You sing until his hand is back between your legs.

You sing as he trails his fingers along your weeping slit.

You sing as he thumbs at your burning clit, pressing the rough pad of his thumb against the aching bud.

You sing as he plunges his fingers deep into your cunt.

You sing as he finger fucks you on his thighs, your legs parted, one foot planted on the armrest of his own chair as he thrusts and thrusts his thick fingers into you repeatedly.

You sing as your body succumbs to him, as your song becomes incoherent, desperate moans falling from your mouth as you coat his fingers in your cum.

You sing as he fucks you in that chair.

You sing as he fucks you in his bed.

You sing as he fucks you on the balcony where he first saw you, crying out as you're stretched wide on two large cocks, crying into the night as he fills you over and over and over.

And you still sing, as he takes you back into his bed, two arms possessive holding your weakened body to him.

You sing as you fall asleep in Sukuna's arms.

[midnightspasms]

pairing: True form! Sukuna x priestess!reader

synopsis: You're the priestess of a small village Sukuna is visiting, and he's sent to receive blessings from you. He doesn't believe in shamans, but he's ready to listen to every lie you tell him.

warnings: true-form sukuna(two cocks), unprotected sex, slight mention of blood.

Sukuna sits with knees parted wide, and ankles crossed over each other atop the satin cushions in your shrine. His body is massive, two of his arms over his thighs, the palms of the other two planted on the ground next to his knees. He's leaning forward, watching you with mockery evident in the red of his eyes and the curve of his grin.

He thinks you're a fake, with your beguiling eyes and invitingly red lips, and the gossamer fabric that drapes over your frame. His eyes scan the jewels that are scattered over you and your shrine; the anklets, necklaces, and rings near the corner to his left; offerings that the people of this village give you.

This expedition was meant to be a quick one, a swift visit to the village that had sided with him decades ago during a war. Sukuna's intention was to see the chief, enjoy a festival in his own honour and maybe fuck a concubine or two in the palace before heading back.

But near the end of the festivities, the chief, red feom wine and round from gluttony, had offered to send him to the village's shrine to be blessed by their priestess. The curse found the thought amusing.

Ryōmen Sukuna didn't need any blessings.

But he was bored, and the concubine that was waiting in his chambers, an offering from the chief, wasn't the most exciting to look at. So he obliged, being led to the surprisingly lavish shrine at the back of the palace, and took a seat before you.

Truth be told, he didn't believe in shamans. Sorcerers and cursed spirits were the only sources of magic in this world, and the dead did not dwell with the living. Anybody that believed otherwise, that they could call upon the spirit of a dead man, was a liar.

But Sukuna was bored, and he was willing to entertain any lies that fell from your lips.

You were beguiling, rising to your knees the instant be pulled the silken blue curtains of your shrine, bowing before his feet. He sat without speaking, waiting for you to lie to him about blessings and prophecies.

When you rose from your position, looking up to his eyes, his lips stretched even further.

Your clothing is diaphanous; gauze like fabric going round your neck and falling over your breasts and your stomach. It's held together with gold fastenings around your waist and collar, but he can see your breasts, your pebbled nipples calling to him indecently.

Had he known the village had a priestess so ravishing, he'd have come for blessings sooner.

The thought has him chuckling.

"Speak, Charlatan." He commands you, his voice gravelly, deep.

He expects a frown, a stutter maybe, but not this. He doesn't expect you to smirk at him in that way, as though you expected his words.

"Charlatan? Is that what you think of me, Ryōmen-sama...?"

Your voice is like velvet. It's music to his ears and honey to his tongue. And your tone is amused, almost pleased. But still, he sees something.

"You joke of a priestess. You're a sham, aren't you?" He's laughing now, even more intrigued.

You grin at him, and he sees it again, finally understanding the glint he'd caught sight of. Every single tooth in your mouth is sharp, making you look vicious, like some snake.

"You were quicker than I expected." You told him.

"Cursed spirit?" He asks.

You stand to your feet before him, and now he can see everything; the sinful outline of your figure, the mould between your legs. He's hardening beneath his clothes, and he's sure you can see it.

"My mother was a whore for a water spirit." You told him.

Siren.

"And you?" He asks with a grin, leaning back and uncrossing his ankles sk his feet are planted on the ground, legs parted wide invitingly.

"And me?" You whisper to him with a sensuous smile on your pretty lips, walking over to where he was sat.

He's grinning when you're right above him, one of his hands coming to hold your shin, slowly rubbing, going upwards till his palm is at the back of your knee.

"Are you a whore like your mother?" He says and licks his lips, well aware that his cocks are obscenely hard, making his desire obvious.

Your pussy is glorious, it sucks him in the instant be starts pushing into you. His hands are all over your body as you moan and whine his name, palms over your breasts, tweaking your nipples, a thumb pushing into the tight rim of your ass, preparing it for his second cock.

"Su- Sukuna...~" you groan as he bottoms out into your cunt, the stretch as intense as it was pleasurable. You'd never had anything so big, pulsing with heat and veins running over the side as he massaged your velvety walls with each thrust.

He's grinning wide as he watches your face contort with pleasure from each move he makes. That and the fact that he's barely done anything and you're creaming.

"I've never fucked a curse," He tells you, thrusting his hips up and into you whilst his thumb dug deeper into your ass, trying to stretch it out. The overstimulation had tears coming to your eyes.

"But you're only half a curse, aren't you?" He laughs. "Is that why you're pussy's so tight? So warm- fuck!" He resists the urge to through his head back when your can't flutters around him.

His upper left arm is supporting his weight with his palm on the ground, and so is his upper right. The lower right, previously twisting at your nipples is now wrapped around his bottom cock, needy and hard, spurting pre unto the rounders of your ass, and the thumb of his lower left is finally pulling out of your tight rim of muscle.

Your words are incomprehensible now, and he can feel you drooling unto his shoulder, but he doesn't care much now. Not when the mushroom tip of his needy cock is bullying it's way into your second hole, stretching it as he pushed through.

"Fuuckk me-" your moan is broken as you're filled to the brim with dick, nails digging into the corded muscle of his back and sharp teeth biting into his wet shoulder, drawing blood and you lick at it greedily.

The pain has him grunting, has him harshly bucking into you and bottoming out in one swift motion. You scream when he does, your teeth leaving his shoulder with a deep bite mark.

But he doesn't care.

Not when both his cocks are enveloped by your warmth, a white ring circling the base of the one in your pussy as he pounds into you desperately.

"You fucking whore-" He spits out as he fucks you, hard and unforgivable, two of his palms digging into your sides to hold you up so he can slam into you easier. "-sucking me in this way. Look how bad you fucking want it."

You're drooling again, your body limp in his hold, tears beginning to gather in your eyes. "Please. Fu- fuck please." What are you begging for? "Keep going.... don't stop- don't stop fucking me."

He grins at that, increasing his pace. Each squelch of your pussy, each loud slap of his balls against your ass has both of you nearing the edge. And he doesn't care who else can hear him fucking the priestess inside her own sacred shrine, because nothing is stopping him from taking you with him when he leaves.

[midnightspasms]

pairing: True form! Sukuna x priestess!reader

synopsis: You're the priestess of a small village Sukuna is visiting, and he's sent to receive blessings from you. He doesn't believe in shamans, but he's ready to listen to every lie you tell him.

warnings: true-form sukuna(two cocks), unprotected sex, slight mention of blood.

Sukuna sits with knees parted wide, and ankles crossed over each other atop the satin cushions in your shrine. His body is massive, two of his arms over his thighs, the palms of the other two planted on the ground next to his knees. He's leaning forward, watching you with mockery evident in the red of his eyes and the curve of his grin.

He thinks you're a fake, with your beguiling eyes and invitingly red lips, and the gossamer fabric that drapes over your frame. His eyes scan the jewels that are scattered over you and your shrine; the anklets, necklaces, and rings near the corner to his left; offerings that the people of this village give you.

This expedition was meant to be a quick one, a swift visit to the village that had sided with him decades ago during a war. Sukuna's intention was to see the chief, enjoy a festival in his own honour and maybe fuck a concubine or two in the palace before heading back.

But near the end of the festivities, the chief, red feom wine and round from gluttony, had offered to send him to the village's shrine to be blessed by their priestess. The curse found the thought amusing.

Ryōmen Sukuna didn't need any blessings.

But he was bored, and the concubine that was waiting in his chambers, an offering from the chief, wasn't the most exciting to look at. So he obliged, being led to the surprisingly lavish shrine at the back of the palace, and took a seat before you.

Truth be told, he didn't believe in shamans. Sorcerers and cursed spirits were the only sources of magic in this world, and the dead did not dwell with the living. Anybody that believed otherwise, that they could call upon the spirit of a dead man, was a liar.

But Sukuna was bored, and he was willing to entertain any lies that fell from your lips.

You were beguiling, rising to your knees the instant be pulled the silken blue curtains of your shrine, bowing before his feet. He sat without speaking, waiting for you to lie to him about blessings and prophecies.

When you rose from your position, looking up to his eyes, his lips stretched even further.

Your clothing is diaphanous; gauze like fabric going round your neck and falling over your breasts and your stomach. It's held together with gold fastenings around your waist and collar, but he can see your breasts, your pebbled nipples calling to him indecently.

Had he known the village had a priestess so ravishing, he'd have come for blessings sooner.

The thought has him chuckling.

"Speak, Charlatan." He commands you, his voice gravelly, deep.

He expects a frown, a stutter maybe, but not this. He doesn't expect you to smirk at him in that way, as though you expected his words.

"Charlatan? Is that what you think of me, Ryōmen-sama...?"

Your voice is like velvet. It's music to his ears and honey to his tongue. And your tone is amused, almost pleased. But still, he sees something.

"You joke of a priestess. You're a sham, aren't you?" He's laughing now, even more intrigued.

You grin at him, and he sees it again, finally understanding the glint he'd caught sight of. Every single tooth in your mouth is sharp, making you look vicious, like some snake.

"You were quicker than I expected." You told him.

"Cursed spirit?" He asks.

You stand to your feet before him, and now he can see everything; the sinful outline of your figure, the mould between your legs. He's hardening beneath his clothes, and he's sure you can see it.

"My mother was a whore for a water spirit." You told him.

Siren.

"And you?" He asks with a grin, leaning back and uncrossing his ankles sk his feet are planted on the ground, legs parted wide invitingly.

"And me?" You whisper to him with a sensuous smile on your pretty lips, walking over to where he was sat.

He's grinning when you're right above him, one of his hands coming to hold your shin, slowly rubbing, going upwards till his palm is at the back of your knee.

"Are you a whore like your mother?" He says and licks his lips, well aware that his cocks are obscenely hard, making his desire obvious.

Your pussy is glorious, it sucks him in the instant be starts pushing into you. His hands are all over your body as you moan and whine his name, palms over your breasts, tweaking your nipples, a thumb pushing into the tight rim of your ass, preparing it for his second cock.

"Su- Sukuna...~" you groan as he bottoms out into your cunt, the stretch as intense as it was pleasurable. You'd never had anything so big, pulsing with heat and veins running over the side as he massaged your velvety walls with each thrust.

He's grinning wide as he watches your face contort with pleasure from each move he makes. That and the fact that he's barely done anything and you're creaming.

"I've never fucked a curse," He tells you, thrusting his hips up and into you whilst his thumb dug deeper into your ass, trying to stretch it out. The overstimulation had tears coming to your eyes.

"But you're only half a curse, aren't you?" He laughs. "Is that why you're pussy's so tight? So warm- fuck!" He resists the urge to through his head back when your can't flutters around him.

His upper left arm is supporting his weight with his palm on the ground, and so is his upper right. The lower right, previously twisting at your nipples is now wrapped around his bottom cock, needy and hard, spurting pre unto the rounders of your ass, and the thumb of his lower left is finally pulling out of your tight rim of muscle.

Your words are incomprehensible now, and he can feel you drooling unto his shoulder, but he doesn't care much now. Not when the mushroom tip of his needy cock is bullying it's way into your second hole, stretching it as he pushed through.

"Fuuckk me-" your moan is broken as you're filled to the brim with dick, nails digging into the corded muscle of his back and sharp teeth biting into his wet shoulder, drawing blood and you lick at it greedily.

The pain has him grunting, has him harshly bucking into you and bottoming out in one swift motion. You scream when he does, your teeth leaving his shoulder with a deep bite mark.

But he doesn't care.

Not when both his cocks are enveloped by your warmth, a white ring circling the base of the one in your pussy as he pounds into you desperately.

"You fucking whore-" He spits out as he fucks you, hard and unforgivable, two of his palms digging into your sides to hold you up so he can slam into you easier. "-sucking me in this way. Look how bad you fucking want it."

You're drooling again, your body limp in his hold, tears beginning to gather in your eyes. "Please. Fu- fuck please." What are you begging for? "Keep going.... don't stop- don't stop fucking me."

He grins at that, increasing his pace. Each squelch of your pussy, each loud slap of his balls against your ass has both of you nearing the edge. And he doesn't care who else can hear him fucking the priestess inside her own sacred shrine, because nothing is stopping him from taking you with him when he leaves.

[midnightspasms]

pairing: True form! Sukuna x priestess!reader

synopsis: You're the priestess of a small village Sukuna is visiting, and he's sent to receive blessings from you. He doesn't believe in shamans, but he's ready to listen to every lie you tell him.

warnings: true-form sukuna(two cocks), unprotected sex, slight mention of blood.

Sukuna sits with knees parted wide, and ankles crossed over each other atop the satin cushions in your shrine. His body is massive, two of his arms over his thighs, the palms of the other two planted on the ground next to his knees. He's leaning forward, watching you with mockery evident in the red of his eyes and the curve of his grin.

He thinks you're a fake, with your beguiling eyes and invitingly red lips, and the gossamer fabric that drapes over your frame. His eyes scan the jewels that are scattered over you and your shrine; the anklets, necklaces, and rings near the corner to his left; offerings that the people of this village give you.

This expedition was meant to be a quick one, a swift visit to the village that had sided with him decades ago during a war. Sukuna's intention was to see the chief, enjoy a festival in his own honour and maybe fuck a concubine or two in the palace before heading back.

But near the end of the festivities, the chief, red feom wine and round from gluttony, had offered to send him to the village's shrine to be blessed by their priestess. The curse found the thought amusing.

Ryōmen Sukuna didn't need any blessings.

But he was bored, and the concubine that was waiting in his chambers, an offering from the chief, wasn't the most exciting to look at. So he obliged, being led to the surprisingly lavish shrine at the back of the palace, and took a seat before you.

Truth be told, he didn't believe in shamans. Sorcerers and cursed spirits were the only sources of magic in this world, and the dead did not dwell with the living. Anybody that believed otherwise, that they could call upon the spirit of a dead man, was a liar.

But Sukuna was bored, and he was willing to entertain any lies that fell from your lips.

You were beguiling, rising to your knees the instant be pulled the silken blue curtains of your shrine, bowing before his feet. He sat without speaking, waiting for you to lie to him about blessings and prophecies.

When you rose from your position, looking up to his eyes, his lips stretched even further.

Your clothing is diaphanous; gauze like fabric going round your neck and falling over your breasts and your stomach. It's held together with gold fastenings around your waist and collar, but he can see your breasts, your pebbled nipples calling to him indecently.

Had he known the village had a priestess so ravishing, he'd have come for blessings sooner.

The thought has him chuckling.

"Speak, Charlatan." He commands you, his voice gravelly, deep.

He expects a frown, a stutter maybe, but not this. He doesn't expect you to smirk at him in that way, as though you expected his words.

"Charlatan? Is that what you think of me, Ryōmen-sama...?"

Your voice is like velvet. It's music to his ears and honey to his tongue. And your tone is amused, almost pleased. But still, he sees something.

"You joke of a priestess. You're a sham, aren't you?" He's laughing now, even more intrigued.

You grin at him, and he sees it again, finally understanding the glint he'd caught sight of. Every single tooth in your mouth is sharp, making you look vicious, like some snake.

"You were quicker than I expected." You told him.

"Cursed spirit?" He asks.

You stand to your feet before him, and now he can see everything; the sinful outline of your figure, the mould between your legs. He's hardening beneath his clothes, and he's sure you can see it.

"My mother was a whore for a water spirit." You told him.

Siren.

"And you?" He asks with a grin, leaning back and uncrossing his ankles sk his feet are planted on the ground, legs parted wide invitingly.

"And me?" You whisper to him with a sensuous smile on your pretty lips, walking over to where he was sat.

He's grinning when you're right above him, one of his hands coming to hold your shin, slowly rubbing, going upwards till his palm is at the back of your knee.

"Are you a whore like your mother?" He says and licks his lips, well aware that his cocks are obscenely hard, making his desire obvious.

Your pussy is glorious, it sucks him in the instant be starts pushing into you. His hands are all over your body as you moan and whine his name, palms over your breasts, tweaking your nipples, a thumb pushing into the tight rim of your ass, preparing it for his second cock.

"Su- Sukuna...~" you groan as he bottoms out into your cunt, the stretch as intense as it was pleasurable. You'd never had anything so big, pulsing with heat and veins running over the side as he massaged your velvety walls with each thrust.

He's grinning wide as he watches your face contort with pleasure from each move he makes. That and the fact that he's barely done anything and you're creaming.

"I've never fucked a curse," He tells you, thrusting his hips up and into you whilst his thumb dug deeper into your ass, trying to stretch it out. The overstimulation had tears coming to your eyes.

"But you're only half a curse, aren't you?" He laughs. "Is that why you're pussy's so tight? So warm- fuck!" He resists the urge to through his head back when your can't flutters around him.

His upper left arm is supporting his weight with his palm on the ground, and so is his upper right. The lower right, previously twisting at your nipples is now wrapped around his bottom cock, needy and hard, spurting pre unto the rounders of your ass, and the thumb of his lower left is finally pulling out of your tight rim of muscle.

Your words are incomprehensible now, and he can feel you drooling unto his shoulder, but he doesn't care much now. Not when the mushroom tip of his needy cock is bullying it's way into your second hole, stretching it as he pushed through.

"Fuuckk me-" your moan is broken as you're filled to the brim with dick, nails digging into the corded muscle of his back and sharp teeth biting into his wet shoulder, drawing blood and you lick at it greedily.

The pain has him grunting, has him harshly bucking into you and bottoming out in one swift motion. You scream when he does, your teeth leaving his shoulder with a deep bite mark.

But he doesn't care.

Not when both his cocks are enveloped by your warmth, a white ring circling the base of the one in your pussy as he pounds into you desperately.

"You fucking whore-" He spits out as he fucks you, hard and unforgivable, two of his palms digging into your sides to hold you up so he can slam into you easier. "-sucking me in this way. Look how bad you fucking want it."

You're drooling again, your body limp in his hold, tears beginning to gather in your eyes. "Please. Fu- fuck please." What are you begging for? "Keep going.... don't stop- don't stop fucking me."

He grins at that, increasing his pace. Each squelch of your pussy, each loud slap of his balls against your ass has both of you nearing the edge. And he doesn't care who else can hear him fucking the priestess inside her own sacred shrine, because nothing is stopping him from taking you with him when he leaves.