Under The Goddess' Veil [TEASER]

What I can write:

Anime/Manga

Demon Slayer

Jujutsu Kaisen

Tokyo Revenegers 

Games

Legend of Zelda

Honkai Starrail

Obey Me! 

Stardew Valley

Movies/shows

Ultraman Rising (2024)

Types of Requests:

Scenarios

Headcanons

Blurbs

Drabbles

One-shots

(if you have an anime you’d like me to watch so I can learn about characters this is more than welcome!)

Request Guidelines:

Make sure you specify what character(s) you wish for me to include in whatever request you have, like what you want to happen in the story, specific details you would like me to add, and anything else you may deem important to the request!

I mostly write for female reader, but am open to male and gender-neutral options as well!

Go at it to be honest, unleash your deepest desires. I will write about almost anything UNLESS it has to deal with grooming/sexual misconduct with minors. Fluff is all that I will consider with minor-aged characters (not specifically aged up for the sake of the story)

I love interacting with people! So under no circumstances feel like I’ll be bothered by a submission even if it’s just about your day! I’m here to write semi-good fanfiction and be an ear if you need it! You all matter and I hope you have a fantastic day/evening/2am fanfic spree <3

SATORU GOJO

Always and forever satoru... (mild smut)

You know he can see the reflection of your glasses. Satoru knows that your cheeks blush a beautiful pink color as you continue to torment him.

You continue to read the explicit comic across from your lab partner, when you're supposed to be meeting about the project due in two weeks. Satoru continues to talk, blabbing on about useless data tables when all he can focus on is the way your eyes suck in the scenes before you.

You who gets flustered when his knee brushes against yours, a frightened squeak making your eyes flick up to meet his. His own eyes widen as he takes in your flustered cheeks and gleaming eyes.

You who whines loudly when he pushes you against the wall of the study room, trapping you with a hand either side of your head. He lowers his voice to a sultry whisper, grinding his hips against your ass.

You who covers your mouth in attempt to quiet your breathy moans, but fails desperately when he pushes deeper inside of you, a scream erupting from your lips. He's getting sloppy now, high off the feel of your pussy around his throbbing cock.

You who breaks over your orgasm with violent shakes, biting so hard on your lip that blood trickles down. Satoru pants into your shoulder, still cumming inside of your hungry cunt.

Satoru Gojo and His Pet Cat

Satoru Gojo would definitely own a fluffy white cat that he spoils rotten. She would get taken to only the best salons and groomers. Dine on the finest tuna and salmon. Every time Gojo went out he’d buy her a new toy or a pretty accessory to put in her long white fur.

That’s how he met you, shopping for his baby girl. You worked at one of the shops he frequented, always giving him the best suggestions for his sweet kitty. You two became close enough for Satoru to give you his number. It was mostly sending pictures of his cat and yours back and forth. Innocent really, but there were times when the conversation would shift into something deeper. There were other times Satoru would send a picture of her laying on his bare chest or in his lap or videos of his large hands stroking the soft white fur of his cat. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose, but you never thought you’d be jealous of a cat for being well taken care of.

Eventually, Satoru invites you over to his apartment so you can meet his cat. “Thanks for having me,” you’ll mutter before spotting the fluffy white feline. She’s absolutely gorgeous, prettier than any cat you’ve seen. You love animals, so of course you’ll get excited, asking if you can pet her. Satoru will smirk, coming up behind you, resting one of his large hands on your hip, the other one coming up to brush the hair away from your neck. Your skin burns from his touch, electricity buzzing within you. 

He hums, pulling you flush against his front. Your breath sputters at the hard planes of his body. “I’ll let you pet her if you let me pet you.” You turn your head against his chest to look up into his eyes, your heart rushing to keep up with your breathing. “You’d look pretty on a leash lookin’ at me like that darlin’.” 

do you write for gyomei? if so could you write something along the lines of gyomei meeting a mother!reader who takes care of the orphan kids in her village, letting them stay at her house and providing them with everything they need,. and maybe gyomei stays the night to rest before going back on his journey to hunt a demon, but the demon ends up coming to him while trying to attack the house. but gyomei is there to protect everyone, and y/n is thankful for that. thank you!!!

I have never written for Gyomei, EVER. I'm not sure why... but I hope this is good! I wrote it in one day, which is surprising considering I wasn't sure how it would turn out. I should thank you! For getting me out of my comfort zone and possibly allowing me to make something...good? LMAO I hope it's something along the lines of what you wanted!!!!

Behind Me | Gyomei Himejima

Warnings: just a bit of demon death and wholesome children that eat rocks

Word Count: 2k

a/n: Everyone thank Anon for the suggestion!! it was a lot of fun to write someone new and from their perspective! AHH I hope you enjoy!!! <3 (it's also late so if there is anything I forgot in the post please tell me, my eyes are slowly shutting me off from the world)

Gyomei had endured a long day of trekking through the woods, hunting a troublesome demon, before coming across the border of a village. He could hear children running among adults who Gyomei believed to be strong enough. There was a small twitch to his senses as he was welcomed into the village, he could overhear the mention of an orphanage. As the scent of a good meal invaded his nose he wished to check on the children, perhaps staying the night if granted permission. Gyomei felt the vibration of someone near, the beads around his neck clicking together as he moved. “Excuse me, I’m looking for the orphanage.” His voice rumbles through his body. 

The person in front of him pauses, hopefully recognizing him to be the stone hashira. “Of course my Lord, would you like me to guide you there?” Gyomei couldn’t help but grin at the offer and respect for his position as a hashira.  

“That’s very kind of you, thank you for helping me.” He couldn’t help but get choked up after the person, likely a male based on their voice and strong grasp. Though Gyomei knew too many strong women to let that be a sole descriptor of sex. 

It took a small amount of time before the guide stopped. Gyomei could hear the pitter of many tiny feet and with the sun’s warmth fading on his skin he wanted to collect all of the children under his care. He would not make the same mistakes again. 

His heart sank in his large chest, a strong urge to start shedding tears over the past almost took over his every sense. “Oh, Chizu, what are you doing here?” A woman’s voice questions. The vibrations of her voice are soothing, the take away the worries Gyomei had rushing through his mind. Her very presence was like one of Kocho’s salves. He can feel her eyes finally land on his massive frame. He wondered if she was studying the scar across his forehead or the way his blank eyes refracted the very image he happened to be looking at. 

Gyomei’s eyes were the window into your soul. 

“I’ve brought one of the hashira to stay with you tonight.” The guide – or rather Chizu – replies. Gyomei can hear the way the woman sucks in the air, how her vibrations change to slightly protective. Good, she was willing to die for these children. The thought nearly brought him to sob. “Do you think the children will like him?” Chizu’s tone is humorous and without a second thought Gyomei is inclined to join in the jesting. 

“I make for wonderful climbing practice.” Both of them burst out in laughter and it brings a smile to his face, though laughing with kind villagers is so nice… he might start crying. 

After a moment the woman gingerly touches Gyomei’s muscular arm, the skin under her fingertips twitching. “I’m thankful for your presence my Lord, please come in.” He can feel her smile, the way she radiates kindness. He would stay here for the night and then make sure to hunt down the demon in the following days. Disgusting demons. He clutches his rosary, muttering chants to focus his mind on wiping away the muck of the world. 

Gyomei is yet again led into a short room, he can tell because he has to duck his head. Maybe the room isn’t short and rather Gyomei is too tall. “The children are all out back, washing up before dinner. Have you eaten yet my Lord?” The woman inquires. She pushes slightly on his forearm and after many years of having people try to signal things without saying anything, he knows to sit down. He’s met with comfortable tatami flooring. 

“I have not partaken in a meal yet… and please call me Gyomei.” He answers, bowing his head. The woman – he realizes he hasn’t asked her name yet – giggles softly. “Please tell me the name of the woman I am to thank for a place to rest.” 

There’s a moment of silence before he senses her kneeling next to him, the click of something being set in front of him. “I am simply the Mother, that’s what the children call me, at least.” He can hear the smile in her voice. Before Gyomei can comment on anything the rush of children takes away his breath. They are loudly talking about him. 

Woah! He’s so big! He’s like a mountain~ Can we keep him? I want to climb on him! Oh please, please, pleaaaassssseeeeeeeeeeeeee? Does he want this rock? Hey! That’s the rock I was going to eat!

“Excuse me Yeji, there will be no eating rocks,” Mother chastizes. The little one she was referring to groans dramatically. The woman next to you huffs before setting a hand on Gyomei’s arm again. He could get used to her calming touch. It was like how meditation made him feel. “I want you all to introduce yourself to Mister Gyomei, the stone hashira.” From what Gyomei can deduce, there are about 5 children in the room. 

“I’m Yeji! What’s a hashira?” A beat before the small girl gasps excitedly, “Do you eat rocks too?!” She exclaims. Gyomei chuckles – Yeji was his favorite, a strong girl in her own accord, especially if those rocks were in her system. 

“I’m Teke.” A little boy, he seems timid so Gyomei bows his head as a show of respect, hoping that Teke will see he means no harm. 

“My name is Pin and this is my little brother Rin.” A young girl bashfully introduces herself along with her younger brother who grunts in response. These children were cared for, tended with honesty, and safe. 

“I’m Ume… I got you this rock.” Tiny hands find their way to Gyomei and he allows her to set a miniscule pebble in his large palm. 

Gyomei bows his head to all of the children. It had been a while since he felt such…an overwhelming sense of righting the wrongs his past held. “Thank you Ume, I shall treasure this for as long as I live.” She squeals with happiness. 

“My Lord– er, Gyomei, do you need assistance with eating? I’ve brought some grilled meat and cold noodles. If you would like something else I’m sure one of the vendors will be happy enough to provide us with a meal worthy of your-” 

“Mama, he can just eat the rock.” Yeji – who you can imagine rolling her eyes like it was the most obvious choice – says. Mother quiets before a snort of laughter rings through Gyomei’s ears. She’s laughing so hard that her breath comes out in quick pants. 

It takes her a few minutes to calm down, the children giggling along with her in a harmonious melody. “I think Mister Gyomei should decide if he is the one to eat a rock or not.” She removes her hands from Gyomei’s arm, his warmth already missing hers. “But your mother worked so hard to prepare this meal.” Her timbre shifts to that of a whining child. The children hum in acknowledgment. 

“Mama does work very hard to fill our tummies…” Teke mutters quietly. 

“Teke is right! Let mister G…Gy…Gyoma eat Mama’s food!” Yeji yells. Gyomei fills with delight. These children, this atmosphere, it was almost too much. 

With the help of Mother, Gyomei enjoys a delicious meal – a few tears are shed because of the pure deliciousness present on his tastebuds. He could’ve fed himself but in all honesty, he preferred the way Mother fed him. “Now it’s off to bed with you heathens.” She laughs. 

The children rush to set up their mats, unfolding one for Gyomei. The cool air of night fills the room. “Mister Stone Man, ask Mama for a bedtime story, that way she can’t say no.” Pin is talking to him and he hears a scoff from his other side. 

“Pin, I would’ve told you a tale regardless.” Mother hums. As the night settles in Gyomei can feel himself grow restless. The tale was about the Demon Corps and Gyomei felt his duty weighing on him more now than ever. He was strong enough to handle it now, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

Mother was humming a lullaby with children surrounding her. He could see – well envision – himself falling into slumber, but his ears perk up at the sound of a twig snapping. Animals inhabit the surrounding woods, but this snap wasn’t on purpose. Something had tripped, the vibrations echoing malicious intent. He stills, one hand on his rosary. 

He turns to the last place he felt Mother, the look – if he could have one – must have conveyed to quiet down. He can hear her wake the children who had fallen asleep. She whispers to them calm instructions, her voice never breaking an inch in fear or distress. “Go to the corner. Cover the children.” Gyomei whispers. The creaking tatami signals she had done as instructed. Gyomei was strong this time. People listened when he told them to get behind him. He would protect them. Whatever the cost. His life mattered not if he did not give it to those he protected. Whatever was outside had to be a demon, Gyomei could smell the blood dripping from its mouth. The searing smell of flesh demons usually carried. It was disgusting.

It was approaching the house. Gyomei could act on his impulse and carry out the slaying, but through a calm reproach, he would stick to the group of people he was to protect. If he left their side that left them open to an attack. The house was far enough away from the rest of the village that he wasn’t worried about anyone else coming into harm's way. “Mama, what’s going on?” Yeji asks, her voice barely above a whisper. Gyomei’s muscles tense. 

It heard.

The figure appears, he can tell. “Well well well, fine dining just for me?” It sneers grotesquely. “A meaty steak and,” its voice pauses. “And some string beans to go along with it.” Gyomei can practically see the sickly smile that creeps up the evil one’s face. 

“Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu. Namu Amida Butsu.” Gyomei feels the sinking disgust take over his body as tears flood down his face. 

“Why is this one talking?” The demon questions before striking out with it’s claws. Gyomei continues his chant, gliding backwards to the group of children. Without breaking his chant the chain of his axe and flail extend outward. The nichirin metal surrounds the demon, grunts of struggle echoing in Gyomei’s ears. 

This foe will not live. It will not take another life. The edge of Gyomei’s axe cuts the skin of the demon. It hisses in agony, squirming to be free from the chain wrapped around its body. Gyomei was blessed to have gone through rigorous training, hours of meditation, and being able to feel his other Hashira at work. This demon was not strong enough to defeat the pure strength Gyomei possessed. He could save these children. He would save these children. 

The axe handle snaps back with a tug, slicing through the demon’s throat, but not all the way. “W-who are you?” It gurgles out. 

“May you find peace.” Gyomei prays. “Amen.” Before a small pull severs the head of the demon. He’s panting, worn out from the short battle. His head spins with thoughts and prayers for the damaged creature born of hate. He decides maybe he’d like for Mother to sing him a lullaby, to ease him into slumber. The sobs of the children finally hit Gyomei when they surround his legs, hugging him. 

“You were so cool!” Teke cries out, probably both scared and impressed. 

“Thank you Mister Gyoma!” Yeji sobs, wiping her tear struck face on Gyomei’s pants. 

“Gyomei,” He looks up, wracked with emotions unnameable. “You saved us, thank you. I am eternally grateful.” 

Eternal. Yes, that’s how long Gyomei would fight for the innocent.  

Get some ACTION!

“Cut cut cut! Come on!” The director yells, throwing his hands up with a slightly redder face than usual. You stifle a laugh, holding the back of your hand to your lips. Once you’re sure the director has stormed off somewhere to rethink life choices you walk away from your cue mark and toward the bed on set. 

You flop down and gaze at the beams far above the walls of this room. In a way, the actors were just another piece to this set built by talented people. Sure we became the face of whatever the project was, but what about everyone else that had a part in the production? It only bothered you when you had time to think, which wasn’t very often. “You sure look deep in thought.” Your co-star is standing over you, blocking your view of the vast height of the stage. 

He smirks, tilting his head when you don’t respond. He drops to a squat waiting for you to flip onto your side like he knew you would. You groan and face him, surprised by how close his face is. “What do you want?” You mumble, feeling your cheeks flush and your heart beat wildly in your chest. 

A hum rolls around in the back of his throat as he appears to be thinking about your question truthfully. Why did this asshole have to bother you constantly? He didn’t care about what whispers floated around when he acted like this off-camera. “Mmmm, I don’t know. Perhaps we should run through episode 8 scene 24.” His smirk widens at the way you gasp and back up against the headboard. 

His laugh echoes around the stage, catching the attention of some set crew. “Y-you! Do you know how to shut up?” You huff in a quiet hiss. 

He crawls over you easily, pinning you to the firm mattress. “Could’ve asked you the same thing last night sweetheart.” 

Continue the fic with:

Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, Nanami Kento, Ryomen Sukuna, Choso, Toji Fushiguro, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyuu Tomioka, Kokushibo, Doma, Kyojuro Rengoku, Akaza, Muza Kibutsuji, Obanai Iguro, Tengen Uzui, open to suggestions because I’m on summer brain

Fuckish

The smack of your lips against his flushed skin made a shiver vibrate through him. “F-fuck you’re so good at that.” He whispers, eyes closing as he tries to focus. A playful smirk makes your lips raise. His fingers are tangled in your hair, slightly pulling your head away from him, but his length made up for that small distance. It’s not like you minded a little hair pulling now and again anyway. You must’ve been still for too long because a quiet whimper falls out into the silent room. Silent, as to say all you could hear was his heavy breathing and small moans. Your eyes travel up his tall body, admiring the muscular thighs in front of you and of course ogling the pectorals. They were big enough you could probably chew on them. His eyes are staring right back down at you. It sends a roll of excitement through your system, longing for those eyes to stare at you while you ride his cock. Admiring the way your whines sounded like a song. “Please…” Is the only word that he manages to say. You smile, wrapping your fingers around his erection, pumping him excruciatingly slow. “Oh God-” He throws his head back, a low groan rumbling throughout his body. His grip on your head tightens and you nearly giggle out loud. He’s squirming under your touch, it’s adorable. “Y/n, please-can’t-oh fuck,” He starts to push your mouth toward his tip, but you resist. He wasn’t ready yet, a little more fun and then you’d gladly give him what he wanted. You pick up the pace slightly and his thighs visibly tense. “F’uck, y/n, fuck.” His pants are cracking into moans and his hair is a mess atop his head. You move your mouth toward his head, licking the precum from the tip. He shudders at the feeling of your tongue. Then your mouth is around his length, sliding in tandem with your hand. “That feels so good baby, shit, you’re going to make me cum. Don’t stop, don’t-” He tenses again, his words crumbling into a slutty moan as he cums in your mouth. The thick liquid fills your mouth, a taste unlike any other as you swallow it all down. “You’re so fucking sexy princess.” He praises as he almost lovingly wipes away some spittle from the corner of your mouth. You move away from his touch after a moment, looking up at him with narrowed eyes.  “Don’t get the wrong idea, we’re nothing more than a wet dream, Satoru.”

HEHHEHEHEHEH WHATS UP MY BBG? I hope you have had a good day/night! I have this idea in my head that I'm ITCHING to get out but you can feel free to ignore❤️

Can you do what would happen and what would Sanemi, Giyu, Tanjiro, and Obani do if reader got turned into a demon during a battle?

LIKE I SAID FEEL FREE TO IGNORE!! YOU DA GOAT BBG❤️

GEHEHE I'M DOING SO GREAT! 🫶🫶I HOPE YOU'RE DOING EVEN BETTER THOUGH 😡🥹 It was raining here all day and I was a worrisome parent and got soaked going to check on my kitties🥰🥰. (also why would I ignore such an angsty request MWAHAHA😈)

Includes: Sanemi Shinazugawa, Giyu Tomioka, Tanjiro Kamado, and Obanai Iguro CW: pretty much reader dies in all scenarios, but... yeah no my heart hurt writing these so there's no hope for any of us. Death, angst, sadness.

Sanemi Shinazugawa

The demon’s claws slice through you, tearing your skin apart. You fall to the ground, crumpled and bleeding

“San-Sanemi,” You choke out, the life draining from your beautiful eyes.

A vengeful scream erupts from his throat, burning his very vocal cords as he rushes the creature

Its head falls to the ground with a gruesome thump, Sanemi dropping to his knees next to your corpse. “YN...I’m so-”

Your eyes, they’re open and your pupils pull into slits. His next breath catches in his throat. “Sorry,” He breathes, his eyes stinging with hot tears

He picks up his nichirin blade, using it to help him into a standing position. Sanemi’s choked sobs echo through the forest valley. The glint of fresh sunlight reflecting off of his blade as he plunges the tip into your heart. The sun is cresting over the mountains in a new dawn.

Your garbled noises nearly drive him to the brink of whisking you off to a shadowy haven, but you wouldn’t want to live out your life being the very thing you fought so hard against. 

As the ashen belongings of your body blow past him he feels like he’s just stabbed himself through the heart.

“Sorry…so sorry.” He cries, but the sunlight dries his tears. 

Giyu Tomioka

He was by your side one second then cornered off by a second demon. He wants to remain close to you and protect you, but as he lands the final blow to the demon in front of him he catches the tail end of the demon lifting you by your throat. 

His blood runs cool, the demon’s features twisting in a cruel sneer as it makes you lick up the blood from his wounds. 

Too late, too late, too late

Just like with Sabito, Giyu was too late to save you. His head spins, running through possibilities to somehow not fuck up again

Tanjiro and Nezeko were a special case, who’s to say Giyu would break through to you? And when he didn’t? Would his heart finally go numb? The risk was too great.

The demon has dropped you and ran off, leaving you panting on the ground. You touch your throat, hacking up the blood it tried to feed you. A glimmer of hope sprouts in Giyu’s chest. Maybe you had saved yourself? You meet his gaze, tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Giyu,” you smile, the one he’d grown accustomed to seeing every morning when you greeted him. “Giyu, I need you to be strong,” you start, but he can’t hear you. He doesn’t want to.

“No, I’m not strong,” His voice is trembling. His body aches with the knowledge of what you’re about to request of him. He couldn’t do it. You meant too much to him and he was a selfish man. When everyone else ignores him you see through his suffering to the little boy underneath, scared of being seen for the fraud he was. 

There’s that smile again. “Giyu. You’re a Hashira, you’re more than strong – you’re kind. You know what you have to do. Please, before it’s too late.”

Giyu’s body feels limp as tears mix with his sweat. He was too weak to save Sabito, but he could still save you. He yells into the night, a pained scream that rustles the birds from their branches.

Your head thumps to the side, fanning into dust as he sinks to his knees, sobbing over your remains. Turns out – he wasn’t numb after all. 

Tanjiro Kamado

You’re bloody, a demon standing over you, it’s foul stench dripping round droplets onto your wound

“Let’s see if you have the heart to kill one of your own, slayer.”

Tanjiro had been through this before, with his younger sister Nezeko and things were turning out alright with her.

Would his bond be strong enough to snap you out of the demonic craze? You had acted like an older sibling to him, watching over his progress and always cheering him on. Often he thought the gods had blessed him with you so he would have someone to look after him when he had no one. 

“YN!” He screams, the demon slipping away into the night. “YN talk to me. If you can still talk that means there’s still time.” But the veins on your face bubble and contort your expression to one of hatred.

Tanjiro falls back on his hands, heart loudly echoing in his ear. “YN, please… it’s me…your little brother.” But it’s far too late to work on your once human heart. As you rise to your feet Tanjiro stumbles to his as well

His katana is shaking in his grip. You were a demon, but also his friend. He can’t see through his blurry vision. 

“Pathetic,” you spit, then before Tanjiro can will his heart to do what he knew he couldn’t, you spill into the shadows

His vow to cut the head from Muzan Kibutsuji’s body grew a thousandfold that night

Obanai Iguro

You had been on this mission for weeks now, fighting side by side. Obanai had grown fond of you.

That was until a demon stole you away, reminding him that fondness sprouted weaknesses. However, he tracks you down regardless.

The demon had set up in a cave, the dawn making this rescue mission easier, but as he steadily slides into the heart of the cave he finds you’ve been tied up, dried green blood on your lips

“Fuck,” Obanai hisses into the darkness, searching around for the creature that did this to you

“It’s gone Obanai…” You drawl, your voice raspy and strained. He winces at the state of you.

He rushes to untie you, hoping it’s not too late and the insect Hashira can work some miracle cure on you. If Obanai was fond of you he couldn’t even imagine how the corp members felt about you. 

It had been a while of your fighting off the urge to turn, there had to be hope for you. If only he could get you back to headquarters fast enough…

As if reading his mind you shake your head solemnly. “Please, let me see the sunrise one last time,” you croak, gaze drifting to the sunlight filtering in from the cave’s entrance. 

Obanai squeezes his eyes shut, the electric buzz of his heart making it hard to fulfill your request. He was stagnant, breath quickening as you pleaded with him.

He offers you his hand, willing his chest to return to steel. He leads you to the outside world and your grip tightens as you step into the sun. Obanai’s body aches with unrelenting sorrow. If only he’d kept a better eye on you.

Soon enough, a faint ‘thank you’ blows past him on the wind, and he rushes away from the spot, not willing to look at what he had so carelessly taken for granted. 

Next Time | Satoru Gojo x Y/N

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo asks you to attend a birthday party with him and as his best friend you decide to go with him. Little do you know what a little bit of jealousy and courage can do to a person.

Warnings/contains: cussing, drinking, kissing, lusting, crush on Gojo, pretty boy Gojo, dominating and then pleasure top Gojo, mature content {oral sex (male receiving), fingering, masturbation, climaxing together, vaginal sex, biting, scratching}

Word Count: 5.2K

a/n: I feel like Gojo possessed me to write this and then I turned him from playboy to practically prince charming. Maybe that’ll teach him not to be so arrogant  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

The air was frigid against your bare legs. You couldn’t believe Satoru had convinced you to wear such a dress for tonight. However, he did promise to buy you some beef if you attended the party with him. It’s not like you’d do anything for food, but rather anything for good food. You didn’t mind the thought of spending Satoru’s money either. 

What were you going to do by yourself in the corner? Satoru Gojo was an heir to a wealthy corporation, part of the high life. You just so happened to befriend him when he was slightly smaller, not as arrogant, and way cuter. Your eyes wander over to his tall stature, taking in the way the black silk-collared shirt billowed out around his abdomen. The shirt tightened around his muscular arms, almost hiding the expensive watch around his wrist. Your eyes trail back up his arm and admire how the deep-cut neckline exposed just enough of his chest to make you wonder what he’d look like without the shirt. He had tucked it into a pair of nice black dress pants that elongated his already mile-long legs. A simple pair of dress shoes finished up the outfit that honestly could buy you a nice apartment. 

“What’cha lookin’ at bug?” His smooth voice fills your ears and your eyes dart up to meet his electric blue ones. Were you checking him out? Did he notice? Fuck. You put an innocent smile on your lips and turn away from him. 

“Just wondering if there should ever be a budget put on beef. I mean, should we try to limit such a majestic thing?” You can feel the laugh before it slips out of his mouth. It twangs against your ears and you can’t help that your eyes are drawn to the sight of it. His white hair falls into his face and he runs a hand through it, a smile dawning on his lips once he’s done laughing. 

“Well, with the favor you’re doing me tonight, I’m thinking about taking you straight to the cow farm.” Your brows furrow to look at him. Ah, this was your chance to tease him. 

“Was that a fat joke?” You feign offense and gasp. Satoru moves closer to you and places a warm hand on the exposed part of your shoulder. His eyes flit around all of you and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you nervous. Sure, he was arrogant, stupid, and really annoying, but he also appeared in your dreams commanding you to do things to yourself. You bite your lip and look into his eyes. 

“Nope, just thought you’d want to see all the families you're separating. You’re basically the tyrant ruler to those poor cows.” Gojo pouts and then spins you around. You don’t have time to react before he’s leaning against you. “But don’t worry, I’m your evil sidekick. Anything you wish, it’s my command.” 

You wish you could see his face right now, but feeling his breath against your neck is enough to send shivers down your spine. Your breath feels like it’s sputtering to a stop as he returns to your side. You don’t dare look at him, because you know if you did he’d surely see the blush spreading on your cheeks. 

“Yeah… it’s good you know who’s in charge here.” You mutter, more eager than before to get the night done with. 

“Well, madame, we’re here.” You look up to find a tall building with lights shooting into the sky from the roof. Regret shoots into your veins. You’d be left all alone up there watching Gojo get hit on and possibly accepting the advances. He was incredibly popular, too popular. It was annoying. He could probably sense your hesitation, he was good at reading what you were thinking. “You sure you still want to do this?” He moves to stand in front of you, between your body and the building, almost like he was trying to block it from your view. You blink up at him, unaware of how close he actually was. You could smell his expensive cologne distinctly now. You could feel the warmth from his body radiating like small tendrils toward you. He oozed wealth and lust, something you could never live up to. That’s why he only appeared in your dreams and not on your doorstep. 

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.” You laugh off your anxieties, the pressure of going to a party where you only knew one person weighing on your shoulders. It’s then that Satoru does something unexpected, he reaches down to grab your hand. 

“Just stay by my side, I’ll make sure you’re not left alone.” Your eyes widen at the way his touch made your chest heave, butterflies erupting in your stomach and rising to your throat. Suddenly you feel stupid for thinking Satoru would leave you behind. He was well aware of how you felt in big crowds, especially around people you didn’t know. He was your friend, after all, he cared about you. 

“I’m depending on you Satoru.” You whisper, daring to look into his eyes as you say those words. A flicker of emotion passes through his eyes and his grip on your hand tightens. You both walk into the immense building and you find a pristine interior, one built specifically for the wealthy to see. The floors were white marble with gold swirls in them and clean enough that you could see a blurry reflection of Satoru and yourself. Off to the far right, down some stairs was a long desk with beautiful women standing behind it. They had smiles plastered on their face and rosy cheeks from spotting Satoru. Plants decorated the empty spaces of the main floor and brought a sort of colorful life into the building. 

“Welcome to Versailles! The hotel of your dreams! What can we do for the both of you?” One of the women with dark long hair chirps. So it’s a hotel? What’s with the name? Makes it sound too grand for you to be standing with this man holding your hand. 

“We’re here for the gathering in the penthouse,” Satoru says with that charming smile of his. One of the other workers nearly melt at the sight. You know the feeling all too well. 

“Ah, of course! And will you be staying the night for the premium breakfast? There will be an array of pastries, American breakfast items, beef-”

“Yes.” You interrupt and Satoru glances at you with slightly wide eyes but a grin brings up the corners of his mouth. The woman looks at you for the first time, taking in your short black dress that leaves little to the imagination. It hugs your curves, round belly, hip dips, and pudgy waist. It also wrapped around your breasts in a way that made them perk up into what could only be described as a heaving bosom. Only one of your arms had a sleeve, the other one was bare. The dress stopped short just above your knees and to top off this experience you’d somehow slipped some black strappy heels on your feet. 

“Alright, what shall I right down for the names?” The woman’s eyes stay on you for a beat before looking back to Satoru. He’s about to reply but something in you snaps. What was so wrong with a woman, who on multiple occasions had compared herself to a generously stuffed dumpling, being with a man like Satoru Gojo? 

“Satoru and y/n Gojo.” You reply with a gracious smile, snaking your arm around Satoru’s. You can feel him tense slightly under your touch. You’re not exactly sure if it’s from your touch or the fact that you just pretended to be his wife. The woman has a strained smile on her face as she types something on the computer and gestures for us to take the penthouse grand elevator. 

Once you’re both in the elevator you let go of Satoru, a shaky breath slipping out of your mouth. It doesn’t help that there's a reflective surface on every part of this damn elevator so it’s not like you could avoid his pointed stare for long. You had about 100 floors to travel up after all. You press your lips into a thin line and brace for impact. 

“I’m not sure why I said that. I think I was just upset that those women were looking at me like I didn’t belong there. Which I don’t. I’m not rich. I also don’t think they thought I was good-looking enough to even be breathing your air. I just snapped and now I feel like you hate me.” You spill out. Satoru closes the distance between you and grabs your arms to stop your rambling. 

“I don’t hate you.” He mutters. You scoff. 

“Good, because we’re husband and wife for the night.” You roll your eyes, happening to glance at his face as you do. His eyes are trained on you and this time you can tell exactly what emotion causes his eyes to darken. 

Lust. Craving. He was hungry. It made you feel like all your desires were about to latch onto this one moment, but then the elevator dings. Fucking great timing you piece of shit elevator. Your stomach dips as Satoru takes your hand and leads you into the long hallway. It had the same vibe as downstairs, grand marble everything. 

“Well Mrs. Gojo, what do you say to wishing a happy birthday and then going back to our room?” Satoru suddenly feels larger than you, towering over you with a presence not unlike a Siberian tiger about to catch an unsuspecting white-tailed doe. You know what he means, he wants to go back to the room you’d requested and…

“What exactly are we going to do in our room so early in the night?” You tease, moving in front of him so he has a better view of your body. You lean over, innocently showing your cleavage. “Are you going to show me how well a rich boy can fuck?” You click your tongue against the roof of your mouth as you say the last word. Satoru grabs hold of your chin and forces you to look up at him. 

“Oh no y/n, you’re going to be showing me.” With that, he lets go of your chin and starts toward a glass door at the end of the hall. You squirm with anticipation as you watch him walk. Was this really happening? You’d never thought about Satoru and you actually fucking. It’d always been a fantasy to you. Something you dreamt about when you were alone with only yourself to feel pleasure. In your dreams, Gojo would watch you with those eyes and order you to show him how you pleasure yourself. “You coming?” Satoru questions from the door. You perk up and catch up to him. 

“Yeah, hopefully fucking sooner than I think.” You mumble as you pass through the door and you’re instantly met with the smell of good food. Soft jazz music plays and from what you can see there are spotlights shining purple lights into the sky. Satoru scoops your hand up and guides you into the almost all-glass expansive room. There weren’t as many people as you imagined, only about 12 that you could count. The room you’d just walked into was large enough to host 200. The space that lacked people was filled with tables of food, which was practically begging you to walk towards it. Satoru bends down near your ear. 

“I wouldn’t eat right now, I’ll make sure to fill you up.” You nearly choke on your next breath and look at him with wide eyes. He just smiles innocently and waves a hand toward the group of people. “What’s up, guys!? Long time no see.” He keeps your hand in his as he walks toward them. You notice a blonde man with sharp angles to his face, a black and white tie loosely around his neck. Then your eyes wander to a shorter woman with brown hair, she has a bored look on her face. Next to her is a tall man with silky long black hair. His eyes are so dark you can barely tell where he’s looking. Who were they? You’d known Satoru for over a decade, but yet you’d never met any of them. The feeling from before returns;  jealousy. 

“Never mind your dumbass, who is this beauty you have here?” The smaller woman approaches you, her eyes looking you up and down. Rather than downstairs where you felt like the women were judging you, it feels like she was complimenting you with her eyes. Satoru pulls you into his side, away from her. 

“This is y/n.” He grumbles. Everyone’s eyes widen and you look up at Gojo. 

“What? Why’d you say my name like that? Why is everyone looking at me?” He doesn’t answer, instead, the blonde-haired man lets out a loud laugh. 

“You finally grow a pair Satoru?” The long black-haired man joins in with a bellow. 

“He probably cried and made her feel bad. Look at his face. Oh my god, he totally begged her.” He points at Gojo and doubles over in laughter. You furrow your brows, more confused than when you heard they were putting bacon on donuts. 

“Oh, I’m Shoko and those two idiots are Suguru and Nanami.” The woman-er…Shoko introduces. “I’m sorry I made Satoru drag you all the way to my birthday party. It’s pretty boring.” She glances behind her at the empty space and then leans toward you, putting up a hand to block her mouth from the crowd. “If I’m being honest, I really hate people but my parents insisted I have a get-together at their hotel.” She rolls her eyes and a small giggle escapes your mouth. Shoko was absolutely grand. Out of everything you’d seen tonight, she was the grandest. She hands you a glass and clinks it with her own. “Now if you’d excuse me, I’m going to try to forget I exist.” She then downs the contents of her glass and wanders toward the blonde man. You look at the glass and then do the same. Your eyes widen at the sudden sting of the liquor. 

“Did you just down that?” Satoru questions, looking at you with a shocked expression. You nod once, already feeling a slight buzz from whatever you’d just drank. “y/n that was probably straight vodka, Shoko is literally a psycho.” You lean against him, feeling heavy all of the sudden. “We’re leaving.” He sighs. You start to shake your head. 

“Nooooo, I don’t want to leave yet.” You groan into his shoulder. Satoru sighs loudly again, then leans down to your ear. 

“If you keep pressing up against me like that I’m not going to be able to hold back.” He whispers gently in your ear. A shiver runs down your body and you dare to press into him again. 

“What if I don’t want you to hold back?” Satoru sets down the glass he had in his hands and grabs your wrist. 

“I’m going to take her to get some water!” He shouts toward the group, but no one really pays him any mind. 

“I don’t want water.” You whine. Gojo and you go through the door and he quickly presses the button for the elevator. 

“We’re not getting water.” He replies sternly, tapping his foot against the ground. You look at him with furrowed brows, swaying lightly. 

“But you just said-”

“Y/n you’d better sober up because I’m about to start kissing you in the elevator and have you watch as I touch your body in the reflection. Then when we get to our room I want to take this stupid fucking dress off you.” 

Ding!

You both step into the elevator and as you feel your heart start to pound Satoru turns you toward the mirror. Your eyes flit between your flushed face and Satoru’s nearing proximity. “I had a fantasy like this once.” You blurt out. Are you stupid? No. Drunk? Yup. Gojo halts his advances, peering into your eyes through the reflection. 

“You…have fantasies about me?” He glances down but then meets your gaze again. You nod and swallow hard. 

“There are ones where you tell me to pleasure myself.” Shut up, stop talking. “And you sit there, watching me with those eyes of yours, taking in the way I touch myself.” You breathe. He sucks in a breath and shuts his eyes. 

Ding!

“Satoru? Are you-”

“y/n, get in the fucking room.” He growls. You sober up as he stalks toward the only door on this floor. He rips it open and then his mouth is on yours. Frantic kisses on your mouth, your jaw, your neck, and your collarbone. “You’re driving me crazy.” He groans between kisses. You let out a breathless moan as he continues. “Show me.” He stares into your eyes now. He couldn’t possibly mean… “I want to see.” You look behind him, past the small sitting room and into the bedroom with a king-sized bed. You look back into his eyes, a sudden burst of courage running through you. 

“Gonna be honest, didn’t think I’d be getting my beef this early.” You tease. Satoru lets out a low laugh and watches as you walk toward the bed. You plop yourself down and spread your legs. His eyes are intently watching as you lift your leg up on the bed to get a better angle. What were you doing? Is this really going to happen? You push your underwear to the side and Satoru is instantly closing the door behind him. He sits in an armchair, crossing one long leg over the other and leaning back with his dark eyes set on what you were doing with your fingers. You push your fingers inside your throbbing pussy and let out a stifled moan. Satoru doesn’t say anything, just sits there and watches you work yourself into a frenzy. You roll your lips under your teeth and push against your clit where you like it. Your breath hitches as the growing build of pleasure begs to explode in the pit of your stomach. You roll your head back and start to flutter around your own fingers. A strangled noise escapes your lips as you start to see stars. As you crest into your orgasm you feel utter bliss. Satoru Gojo was watching you cum all over your fingers. He requested you do this. 

“Y/n.” He finally breaks his silence and brings his legs down to rest his elbows against them. “Get on your knees. I want that pretty mouth of yours around my cock.” His voice is low and commanding, it sends a thrill of excitement through your stomach. You stand from the bed and complete the short walk to where he sits, watching you with sinful eyes. His eyes sink to where your hand was seconds ago. His cock is strained against his pants and you’re eager to finally find out how big he actually was. You sink to your knees and look up at him through your lashes, loving the way his eyes burn into yours. 

“Did you enjoy the show?” You purr, placing yourself in between his knees. Gojo leans back and studies your face. Despite the pure adrenaline coursing through your veins, his gaze makes you squirm like a child being scolded. 

“I’d enjoy that slutty mouth of yours moaning around my cock, making you whimper my name like the needy little whore you are. I can tell how badly you want me to fuck you, just by the way you softly said my name while you masturbated in front of me.” He smirks and leans forward, grabbing your chin in the process. He roughly kisses you and bites your bottom lip. He leaves you breathless and yearning for more attention. “Look at the state of you. You’re practically begging me to let you suck me off. Don’t worry little bug, I’ll give you what you want.” He husks, moving his long fingers to unbuckle his belt. You feel the heat of desire rush through you as you reach out to stop his hands. 

“Please, I want to do it.” You almost whimper. Gojo seems satisfied with this idea and leans back into the chair. You slide the belt out of the loops of his pants and toss it to the side. His pants unclasp and zip open in a smooth motion. Underneath he wears black boxers, but you run your tongue over your lips when you notice how massive his bulge is. You’d sucked dick before, but nothing this big. You tug on the hem of the boxers and his dick springs forth, nearly hitting his abdomen. Honestly, it reminded you of a fucked up jack in the box. Satoru gazes at you awed by his thick cock. Of course, his cock was as pretty as he was. Pale skin aching for you to take it in your mouth. So you do, mouthing at the tip before sinking down his length. A stuttered breath escapes his lips and it only encourages you to do your best. You use your hand to work what your mouth can’t reach, swirling your tongue around what is in your mouth. 

“Fucking Jesus Christ, fuck, yes, oh my god y/n.” Satoru suddenly has the palm of his hand covering the back of your head. You glance up to find his eyes blazing as he examines what you’re doing. He bites down on his lip as a low groan rumbles in his chest. “Just like that princess, fuck you’re such a good fucking slutty whore. Fuck.” A vein in his neck strains as his head flops back. It’s then that he pushes your head down on his cock. He hits the back of your throat easily and you choke on the sudden lack of air. You feel light-headed but the way Satoru is whimpering as you continue to apply suction to him is making you slick with anticipation. His legs start to shake. “Come on y/n, make me cum, yes, you fucking slut. God, you’re so fucking good at that.” He growls, stuttering breaths heaving from his chest. He squeezes his eyes shut and you feel the warmth of his cum fill your mouth. He keeps your head down on his cock as he rides out his crest. When his hand finally moves from your head you slide off his length. You cough lightly, his cum still on your tongue and in the back of your throat. It’s not like you minded swallowing his cum, he tasted like the cream filling of a pastry. He surveys as you lick your lips of him, swallowing what you can. You look up at Satoru, hungry for him to be inside you. 

“Satoru I want you to fuck me.” Is all you can manage to mewl out, too high from the way Gojo came whimpering your name. His eyes track the movement of your face. 

“Take off the dress.” He demands softly. You get to your feet, knees aching. You pull the stretchy dress off your arm and then down your body. Your breasts allow gravity to pull them against your chest and when you pass your panties you pull them off with the dress. You nearly stumble as you step out of it, the heel of your shoes catching on the fabric. You bend over the unlatch the clasp on both of your shoes, slipping out of them. This makes you a foot or so shorter, which gives Satoru all the more reason to remind you how tall he is. He pulls his shirt over his head, slightly messing his hair. It made him look disheveled and even more lustful. Your eyes drop to the way his abdomen ripples with muscles strong enough to lift a heavy weight. You wonder if he could lift you up. Satoru takes his pants off the rest of the way next, exposing his thick thighs. God, he was sexy everywhere on his body. He looks up at you when he’s finished undressing, his eyes racking all over your body. He closes the distance between the two of you and caresses your cheek. “You are… so beautiful. I don’t know if I’ve ever told you that y/n.” He looks between your bodies. Your heart throbs. Was this going to be a one-time thing for him? You don’t know if this is such a good idea. Granted you should’ve thought about that before you masturbated in front of him and then sucked him off.

“You haven’t…” You avoid his eyes, scared that somehow he’ll be able to read your thoughts. 

“What an idiot I’ve been.” He slides his hand to the back of your neck and brings you closer to his face. 

“I won’t let a day pass by where I don’t remind you how your beauty is what makes me the wealthiest man on Earth.” He whispers ever so gently then brings your lips together. This kiss is different than the last few you’ve had with Satoru. The desperation is still there, but instead of frantic, it’s more of a longing feeling. His lips work with yours in a beautiful tandem. His words echo in the back of your head as he moves his kisses to your neck. You can’t help but to moan as he sucks on the soft skin of your neck. He licks at the swollen marks he leaves and you can feel just how turned on he is. “Is it okay for me to mark you up?” His beautiful blue eyes look up at you through his lashes, almost innocently asking a question. Gone is the lust but replaces by tender desire. 

“Yes.” You whisper with a light moan. “I want everyone to know I’m yours.” Something in Satoru snaps and he backs you up until the back of your knees hit the bed. You plop into the soft mattress with a slight gasp. Gojo stands before you, peering down at you, scanning your body. You allow yourself to enjoy the view as well, how every inch of his body seems to be sculpted from the marble on the floor. 

“Are you okay with this?” He questions, breaking the silence. You blink up at him, meeting his gaze. 

“Yes, Satoru, I want you.” 

His body is suddenly on yours, hands exploring every inch he can find. Your eyes flutter shut as pure bliss takes over your body. He nips at your neck and lowers his mouth to your nipple. He swirls his tongue around your swollen nub, causing a stifled moan to slip out of your mouth. He looks up at you from your breasts. 

“Be as loud as you want y/n. I want you to be honest with yourself.” He then brings his mouth around your breast to suck on the soft skin. A red splotch appears when he’s done. You feel like you’re in a daze, watching through tinted eyes as Satoru massages your other breast with his massive hands. A whimper escapes your throat and he smiles against the nipple he’s sucking on. He pinches your nipple and you squirm from the pleasure blossoming in your chest. 

“Satoru,” You gasp. His eyes slowly roll up your body to meet your gaze. 

“Yes, princess?” He coos. You flutter your eyes closed as his hand dips to your throbbing cunt. His fingers hook into your slit and you buck against the movement. 

“P-please.” You sputter out. Gojo works his fingers against your clit and you start to squirm. “I want something bigger.” You manage to mutter out. Satoru smirks and wiggles his fingers inside you. The friction makes you whimper. 

“I did tell you your wish is my command.” He laughs and brings the fingers that were just inside you to his mouth. He maintains eye contact as he licks them clean. He backs off the bed and pulls you to the edge, enticing a tiny squeak from you. He bends down to fumble with his pants until he produces a square purple package. He bites off the corner and opens up the condom. He rolls it onto his cock, which honestly seemed bigger than before. You watch as he lines himself up at your entrance and sinks into you. Your eyes widen as he fills you up, a sputtering gasp coming from Satoru’s lips. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so fucking wet. You feel so good.” He rasps. He starts to push in deeper and you bite your lip at the pressure. 

“Me too. I feel good too.” You mewl out. Satoru leans over and presses his lips to yours, a gentle kiss. You hook your legs around his waist, bringing him deeper inside you. You dig your nails into his back and Satoru lets out a stuttering breath. 

“I’m going to start moving faster.” He breathes into your ear and then while kissing you again he snaps his hips forward. You moan against his lips and scratch your nails down his muscular back. Gojo starts to work himself into you at a faster rhythm. 

“Fuck Satoru, oh my god, yes! Right there! Shit, oh my god, fuck.” You feel your body trembling as Satoru pumps his cock into you. Your vision starts to fade as you feel closer to your climax. “Oh fuck, fuck, I’m going to cum Satoru.” You bite down on his shoulder and he lets out a rumbling moan. 

“Y/n fucking hell, your pussy is sucking me in.” Satoru husks, his movement getting sloppy as he starts to climb the road to his climax as well. Your eyes are trained on the way Satoru strains to push into you. 

“Mmm, just like that. God, I’m so fucking close.” Gojo grabs onto you as you both dissolve into pleasure. Electricity rushes through you and pulses where Satoru is still inside you. He moves his lips to yours and kisses you sloppily. Your lips are swollen from how many times Satoru has pushed his lips onto yours tonight. He pulls out of your swollen pussy and ties off the condom. He then flops to your side and then after a while of you both trying to catch your breath he rolls to face you. 

“I promise I don’t usually cum that quickly…” He avoids your eyes and a stupid smile takes over your lips. 

“I don’t mind, everyone gets excited.” You roll to face him as well. He finally looks into your eyes and all your worries about if he was just fucking you to fuck wash away. 

“I’ll just have to try harder next time.” He kisses you gently on the forehead and your eyes sparkle with new hope. 

“Yeah, now do you think there’s still food at Shoko’s party?” I tease. He feigns offense and sits up. 

“Did I not satisfy you enough bug?” You giggle and slowly sit up next to him. Your head was pounding and your knees brushed against his. 

“I’m fucking famished I don’t know about you.” You nudge his shoulder and he chuckles softly. He kisses your shoulder and looks into your eyes. 

“I could eat a whole village of cows.” 

“Get dressed, we’re making another appearance.” 

Half Blood | Muzan Kibutsuji x fem!reader

Warnings: NSFW, MDNI, TW! YN does get assaulted, mentions of blood, drinking blood, gore, how many times do I mention claws? Oral fem!receiving, fingering, kissing, breeding kink, virgin sex, creampie, and overstimulation.

Word Count: 4.9k

a/n: guys this started off as a quick break from a Sanemi fic I'm working on (keep in mind I think short fics are no longer than 3k) and here I am... with a way longer fic than I intended and something I actually want to expand on in the future. It was a lot of fun to write this so I hope you enjoy it <3

“You,” His pink irises are illuminated by the moon high in the night sky. The blood within your body cools as you stare back at the man who stored your fate. His inky black hair flows down his shoulder in waves. A deep blue yukata loosely hung on his frame. “I’ve been watching you.” Muzan growls, edging ever closer to where you stood. His pointed canines glinted in the light, his nails sharp and ready to claw at your jugular. The demon king rolls his tongue along the tips of his teeth, studying you carefully. Was he deciding whether or not to feast upon your flesh?

He had never seen such a creature as yourself. Your skin was glowing, soft, and supple. The lavender color yukata covered most of your body, a delicate pattern of white flowers spanning the kosode fabric. Your obi was white with purple vines flowing around it. You wear simple white tabies paired with purple strapped zori. Elegance and grace radiated from you. He could smell the wisteria perfume in your hair. 

It was strange, you were a confrontation to the world he wanted to live in – yet something he could not tear his eyes away from. Here you were, standing in front of him without fear. He rather thought it would be better fun if you were afraid, he did so enjoy the chase. Though, there was – of course – a reason you relented in running away from him. Your eyes were stormy, eclipsed by thousands of emotions. That’s when a different smell, that had not yet hit him, tickled his nose. Blood, and not just any blood. You had the blood of a demon in you. Your stern, furrowed brows, with the revolting smell of wisteria burning his nose. You confused him. “What are you?” He purs out, not sure if what would come out of your mouth would be a lie or truth. He could always figure it out for himself one way or another. 

Your lip ticks, a show of annoyance you’d yet to master. The man in front of you knew, he could smell it, of that you were sure. Yet, he dared ask. What are you? You’d been told many times what you were. An abomination. A curse. A monster. “Are you not the demon king?” You spit back, growing angry. Would the other half of you reject your existence as well? You had hoped at least the demons would have the scarce bit of comradery running through their systems. Muzan’s brows lift, then knit together. Did he need to answer you? After all, he could easily swipe at your neck to kill you for being so insolent. The eager need to hear what you had to say captivated him though. 

When the man does not answer you tut, crossing your arms over your chest. “Here I thought the mighty demon king would be able to tell me apart from the rest.” You shake your head, laughing stiffly into the night. In a flash Muzan has you pinned to the trunk of a tree. Splinters etch toward your face from the very force of his hand. His muscular body cages you in and it takes you a moment to realize how your body aches to be near him. 

“I can smell you,” He mutters, squinting his beautiful eyes like he couldn’t quite distinguish what he was looking at. “You assault my senses, it’s driving me mad. There’s something different about you.” Muzan had first observed you walking in your village one evening, the way people sneered and cowered at your presence intrigued him. He found himself looking for you every night, wondering what your story was. These villagers were shunning you. He wished to know why such a pretty thing as yourself would be outcasted in her own village. “You smell like me, yet you are not. So I ask you again, what are you?” His voice is low, edging on the precipice of anger. 

You do not yield in holding his gaze. “I am you, yet I am not. Born of the sun and moon. A half-blood.” 20 years ago your mother found herself in the entertainment district, serving the pleasures of others. A man came to visit her on multiple occasions. Eventually, the two ran away together. Sharing in love and secrets. Your mother was a demon and your father a local carpenter. How you were able to be conceived was a mystery, even to them. They lived in peace, until one night. The villagers had finally seen through your father’s lies, storming their house. They slaughtered both of them and assuming you were a child taken captive, they whisked you away to a widowed mother. As you grew it was obvious where your origins lay, yet no one in the village dared to lay a hand on you. 

Muzan lets his gaze drop to where your heart pulsed, bouncing the skin of your jugular. “You are human and demon?” Something pulled tight in his chest. Could you walk in the sun? Did you regenerate? Were you the answer to his plight? “You are radiant.” He cannot stop the words from falling past his lips. Your eyes light up with recognition, acceptance, and for a moment your past falls away. He had the ever-growing urge to sweep you away. Your very existence was tantalizing to him in the least. He tilts his head, wrinkling his nose at the obscure way you smelt. 

Your eyes settle on the way he reacts to you, wondering if he’ll take you away someplace. Some place away from these villagers who had slaughtered your parents who just wanted to live in harmony. They did not deserve to die and you did not want to live one more second with their murderers. Muzan wanted to take you, but he couldn’t. Not yet. You were so fragile. If he were to touch you he would fear you would break on the spot. “Are you going to take me away from this place?” You whisper, hopeful tones floating to Muzan. He swallows something deep and thick. 

Muzan backs away from you, eyes tensing. “No.” He replies softly. He could not take you into his den, the other demons were too stupid to realize how precious you were. You would be dead within seconds. The line between your brows hardens again as his words hit you. 

“No? Why not? Am I not good enough for you?” Your voice is rising. You sound like a whining child who hasn’t gotten their way. Muzan winces at the obvious pain seeping into your voice. You were nothing like he’d ever seen before. Something beautiful, a miracle in his eyes. Therefore, he did not answer you. He simply faded back into the shadows. With his disappearance, your hopes and dreams faded as well.

—

The next time you see Muzan is two years later. His hair is shorter than you last saw it, the curls kissing the nape of his neck. This neat look couldn’t contain the loose curls that framed his face. A starched white collar shirt was tucked into an ornate waistcoat. He looked utterly different, yet he was your Muzan. He had the same eyes, the same far-off look, and on top of that, you could practically taste his scent. It was overwhelming, crushing even, but in a way, you enjoyed the rush. 

It was also a fact that you had escaped your village after one of the men tried to see how strong a half-blood was. He told you he was turned on by how revolting you were and he would take you as his wife in duty only. Until then you had never seriously thought about killing a human. The realization was both terrifying and freeing. So you fled to the entertainment district, living off of what you could at the Kyogoku House. There were so many smells here. Food, humans, sex, and demons. 

You worked under a beautiful oiran, and you could tell… she wasn’t human. Part of you wanted to become friends with her, but if she hadn’t reached out for the sake of commonality, you didn’t think there was a chance of any other relationship than servant. 

Muzan’s brows furrowed. He had come to visit Daki and yet your scent prosecuted his brain. Ever since he left you in the forest that day he had been thinking of a way to retrieve you. You were too precious to let out of his sight again. This time he would secure you. He could feel his blood boil at the thought of you living in the Ukiyo. Kyogoku House was well protected, but anywhere without him wasn’t safe for you. Were you being used by men far beneath you? Muzan had never felt such rage toward the thought of men touching a woman. He often indulged in watching, humans were ever so entertaining – but you weren’t human. You were one of his and he swallowed harshly at the fact that you weren’t only his. 

He brushes past some of the lower-ranking courtesans, his eye twitching at their giggles. You watch from afar, the familiarity of his back etching a cold ache into your heart. He would leave again, of that you were sure. You hug the fresh sheets to your chest, making your way to the linen closet down the hall. “Ah, YN, I’ve been looking for you.” The Okaasan Omitsu stands before you. She has a cunning sneer behind the kind smile she wears. 

You bow, storing the sheets away before turning your full attention to her. “Yes Okaasan?” You can smell the evil intent behind this woman, it makes your stomach sink. 

“You wouldn’t mind doing me a favor would you?” She uses the word favor like you’d have a choice. She is the Okaasan after all. It’s like she thinks you’re some stupid girl that will follow whatever she says. Using the word favor is a manipulation tactic and if you were a naive girl, you would be eating out of the palm of her hand. 

You tilt your head to the left, plastering a fake smile of your own onto your lips. You knew anything out of your mouth except ‘yes Okaasan’ would make things harder for yourself. So with all your better judgment pushed aside, you say exactly that. 

Her eyes gleam. “Thank you, my dear. If you will kindly follow me.” She walks back up the hall, toward one of the private Ozashiki rooms. You glance around, nerves settling into your bones. You couldn’t be headed into one of these rooms, you weren’t even a kamuro. You were just an older shinzō. 

She stops in front of the panel, a cruel smile lifting the corners of her mouth. No, please, not this. “You are very blessed my dear, one of our chūsan is interested in you.” She slides the door aside and sitting against a wall smoking a pipe is a middle-aged man. Cushions are scattered around the floor and a twisted smirk plays with his mouth when he sees you. Okaasan bows then slides the door shut behind you. 

The room was stifling, the smoke choking out any of the senses you had. It was dizzying. “Mmm, you’re a lot older than I thought.” The man sneers, setting his pipe down. The fog of opium seemingly wraps around your throat, making it hard to breathe. “But you’ll do.” He laughs, patting the cushion next to him. “Why don’t you come a little closer?” He offers. Your body tenses. You were in danger, of that you were sure. You were not willing to give your virginity up to such a man but if you denied him the right to your own body, there would be outrage. You swallow, tentatively kneeling on the cushion next to him. 

He leans over you, sniffing the area around your shoulder. You stiffen. “You smell so good, better than all those flora bitches.” He growls. “I like your natural…musk.” Oh Gods did this man – who probably has a wife and children – just compliment how you smell when you’ve been working all day? “What do you like about me?” What a loaded question. 

You smile, one that shuts your eyes – if he saw the look in your eyes he’d be sure to know you were lying when you said, “I appreciate your generosity.” You bow your head and the man laughs heartily. 

His tongue darts out to coat his lips. “I can be more generous if you’d like?” He moves himself closer to you. “I was blessed with wealth, good looks, and a tool to make women scream.” Please let the tool be an ice pick so you can lobotomize yourself. “Whad’ya say, darling?” He coos, going in for what appears to be a kiss even though you hadn’t been given the time to answer him. 

You grimace away from his advance, shoving at his chest. The eerie playful tone in the room suddenly seems to vacuum out. The fog is still thick from the burning opium, but you don’t miss the way the man before you lunges for you. He’s panting above you with a charming pointy sneer. “Ah ah ah, not so fast. You haven’t serviced me, whore.” He digs his nails into your shoulder, pinning you to the wooden floor. “Look at you, begging for my cock with your eyes, ooohh you want it that bad you slut?” He hisses, fumbling with the buckle of his Western-style pants. You squirm wildly under his grasp but it’s like he’s infused with superhuman strength. “I’m gonna fuck you and then, as your reward,” His face is next to yours now, eyes glowing an electric yellow, pupils in slits. “I’m going to kill you.” His hand is on your throat, crushing your windpipe. You choke on what little air you were able to breathe earlier. 

A demon, this man was a demon. One of your kind. No… he wasn’t. He was something else. He was driven by the carnal desire to fuck and kill. You were too weak to push him off, your internal forces constantly warring against each other. You had always presented as human, meek, malleable, and obedient. What you would give to have your demon side come forth, bite this fucker’s head off. You want to scream – but on account of his claws sinking into the back of your neck – if you even moved that would surely be the end of your life. 

He tears your yukata to shreds, ripping the soft skin of your stomach open as well. Your mouth opens the pressure of a scream pushing against his hand. Blood mixes with the tattered cloth, the cotton dying red.

Muzan pauses, Daki grumbling about some inferior human drama. His eyes search the room, this time Daki taking notice from her self-indulged rant. Where was that smell coming from? He stands, silencing Daki before she can start whining again. The potent smell of blood was swirling to the top floor, but not just…any blood. “YN,” He hisses, the annoyance, rage, and blood-boiling sensations he felt earlier returning tenfold. Why were you bleeding? This was fresh cut blood, not from the dues women endured every month. He needed to find you, or he feared the worst. “I need to go.” He barely says to the demon next to him. Her face morphs into one of anger, and before she can hurl anything at him, Muzan slips out of her room. Where were you? He follows the pungent scent, clambering down the stairs and rushing down the hall until he’s in front of a private room. He’s sweating, for once fear is humming in his ear. He shoves the door to the side, witnessing a demon hunched over your body. 

Your blood is pooling around you dying the wonderfully blue yukata you wore earlier a sickly brown color. The demon doesn’t have time to look up because Muzan is already crushing its head, slashing its throat to shreds of what it once was. 

The room is covered in blood but the demon is dead. Muzan slides to the floor, cradling you in his lap. “YN, no, no please don’t die.” You were his miracle. You were his hope. If anything could save his damned soul it would be you. His arms are trembling as your stomach bleeds out, the skin marred, and…God the smell of your blood was driving him mad. It was something he shouldn’t be thinking about as you bleed out under him. You needed to regenerate. He wasn’t sure if you could so maybe your demon just needed a little push?

With his free hand, Muzan tears the flesh from his arm, bringing it down to your mouth. His blood trickles onto your lips, sliding into your mouth. After a few silent beats, your eyes shoot open. Muzan has never felt such joy as this very moment. Your arms wrap around his, bringing it into your mouth. Muzan hisses at the way your tongue dances around his wound, lapping up the blood he shed for you. You’re panting, gasping for more. Your eyes glow as you drag your tongue up the muscle of his forearm. His blood flows through you like your own life force, strengthening your nerves, hardening your muscles. He has made you stronger. 

It sends a pinch of desire through Muzan. He hadn’t felt the heat of wanting to sink his cock into the warmth of a cunt in decades. You were mouthing at his arm, wounds healed on both ends, but now that you were moving the once whole yukata falls off your shoulders. Blood trails from your lips down your chest, between your breasts. Muzan was never one to fend off his desire to want. He took whatever he wanted, without a care. He wanted to take you without a care. Fuck you senseless into the floorboards, claw at you, feed on your blood while you fed on his. It was ecstasy just imagining driving his cock into your pretty tight pussy. 

“I should’ve never left you.” He whispers and it sends a rolling wave of want through you. You move to straddle his lap. 

“Then don’t leave me now.” You could both smell it, the heat and arousal in the air. “Take me, my Lord.” He smirks, holding onto your thighs. 

He hums, enjoying the way you’re bare in front of him. You were a sight to behold. “Mmm, such a smart girl.” A portal opens underneath him, the wooden floor sinking into an expanse of rooms, platforms, doors, lights, and endless corridors. The sheer speed whips your hair around your face until – it doesn’t. You’ve stopped in the middle of whatever this place was. “Welcome home,” Muzan’s pink eyes darken to a deep crimson as he sits up straighter, pressing himself into you. You moan in delight as his hands work their way up your hips, sitting you down on the stiff part of his lap. 

You tilt your head, peeking at him. “I’ve never liked pants,” you mumble, playing with the hem of his. He chuckles his smirk growing. 

“And why is that?” He inquires, moving his tongue to lick up the blood that has traveled toward your navel. You choke out a moan as he makes his way between your breasts. You can feel his teeth against your skin and it’s a wretched thought. “Aheh,” He swipes at the crest of your breast. 

“H-hard to get off.” Muzan hums against your skin in agreement, but he’s too preoccupied with the way you tremble with untapped pleasure. 

He wants to tear into your flesh, mark you as his, burn only his name onto your tongue. “Such an eager kitten,” He licks his lips, capturing the back of your neck in his hands. “You want me bare that badly?” All you can manage is a small nod as he gingerly moves you so that you’re laying down. Your hips are still lined up with his as he gazes at you. “I can promise you I have a similar urgency.” He grins, pulling the belt from his breeches with a smooth movement. He tosses it to the side, but doesn’t make any more movements to pull his pants down. Muzan notices your heated gaze pointed toward his hardened groin. 

Did you know nothing about the workings between a man and woman? His eyes trail down your body, stopping at the apex of your thighs. He wraps his arms around the bend of your knee, smirking when your eyes widen in surprise. He tugs you upwards, to where your legs are over his shoulders. Being this close to your glistening pink cunt made his groin stiffen even more, if that was possible. The smell of you was intoxicating. He couldn’t help himself. “What a fucking view.” He growls. 

Muzan buries his head between your thighs, latching his mouth onto your swelling clit. You gasp in pleasure, breaths turning into ragged moans as he plunges his tongue deeper into you. “O-oh my God, f’ck, ngh.” With the way his tongue his twisting and sucking inside of you, breathing seemed impossible. His claws dig into your outer thigh, scratching red trails to your knees. He devours every bit of you he can reach, crazed by the tangy sweetness of your arousal. Your walls were squeezing around his tongue, heat running through your body. 

Your own hands find your stiff nipples, rolling them around in your fingers. You couldn’t get enough, it was the same feeling you received from drinking his blood. Heat rolling around in your veins as his eyes take in your puffy cunt and how your eyes roll to the back of your head. He maneuvers one hand from under your knee to the one place that was being ignored on you – your entrance. It was like the gate to a shrine and he wanted to worship there for eternity. “Look at how fucking wet your cunt is.” His pointed nails shape into shorter rounder ones, he dare not damage this holy place. Then, without warning, he presses two fingers into you. A yelp echoes across the void of the infinity castle. “Ahhh, shit,” You huff, tensing from the sensation of your pussy being stretched. 

Muzan knew you were a virgin, he would be lying if the fact didn’t make him grow more feral to have you sit on his cock and take his seed deep within you. He wanted you. He wanted you. He wanted you. That was all he could think about while lapping up your wetness. 

The slick from your cunt was sucking his fingers in, a growl rumbling around your clit. This makes you scream out as a shockwave shoots through you. Your thighs are shaking and every once and a while – as Muzan still selfishly fingers you through your climax, sucking on your clit – your body will twitch. Heavy and heady moans fall from your lips, breaking into whines as you come down from your high. 

“You did such a good job my sweet,” Muzan lowers you gently back to the floor. Your neck is sore from being at an awkward angle for so long, but you would give anything to see the disheveled man before you with your arousal still on his lips. “That’s it. Prefect. You’re so perfect.” He mutters, licking his lips and watching you still play with your nipples. 

Though you feel like you’ve just ascended, you crave more. You want Muzan to breed you like his own personal slut. “M-more,” You gasp. “I feel so empty my Lord.” You huff, the edges of your voice bleeding to a whine. Muzan’s eyes widen. He hadn’t intended to fuck you just yet. Give you some time to grow accustomed to sexual things so it wasn’t rushed, but your eyes are pleading him to continue. He’s… nervous, which isn’t like the demon king. He’s so eager to please you. Make sure you’re comfortable. He wants to give you hell, heaven, and the earth. 

“You’re practically begging me.” He chuckles, unsure if you really knew what you were asking. There was no way that once Muzan slid into your heady cunt that he would not ravish you. There was no way to tell time in the infinity castle, so there was no way for him to know when to stop until he was satisfied. You squirm to get closer to him, spreading your legs wide for him. His gaze drops from yours to your center, whatever shred of humanity that was left in him suddenly flying away. “Such a filthy slut. You’re already hungry for more? You want me to fill you up? Then beg for it.” His eyes narrow into slits, the magma growing in his belly. 

Your body cools with a shiver of excitement, as you reach down in between your thighs. You purse your lips and then spread your labia apart. The cool air tickles the sticky wetness but you can tell it’s doing something for him. “Please, my King, I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t think. I want you to take my virgin pussy and make it yours.” 

The corner of his mouth ticks up in a smirk. “As you wish my Queen.” He frees his cock and you have to take a moment to gulp at the sheer size of it. The head is leaking precum and bruised a red color from the lack of release. The shaft is a pale pink, a thick vein running down the underside. The muscles of his hips also catch your attention. They were unlike the drawings some of the courtesans had shown you. His were muscular, ready to thrust into you for hours. 

Muzan lines himself up at your entrance, this time with the head of his cock. The idea was thrilling, finally pushing into your pussy and breaking the barrier of your womanhood. He hisses as your slick coats him, making it easy enough to start entering you. Your face contorts with a mixture of pain and pleasure. “Shhh, you can take it.” You want to wiggle away from him, the pain of his member stretching you out is enough to break you. “Ah ah ah, you’re not going anywhere pretty girl. Remember you asked for this.” Muzan leans over you seizing your mouth with his own. You share a leisurely kiss as he swallows your moans. 

He feels the head of his cock hit your hymen and with a wince he thrusts past it. He can feel the rush of silky blood around his cock, but he tries his best to divert your attention with heated kisses. You break free, a long drawn out moan gasping out of you. “Ahhh, oh my, hngh nngh yes!” 

Muzan nuzzles into your neck, the feeling of your walls clenching around him driving him practically insane. “Yeah? Tell me how good I am. Tell me how good I am at fucking you.” He hisses out, desperate for your compliments and approval. 

“Nnnggh, s’good, f’ckin’ me s’good.” You slur, drunk on how he guided a new path into you. You pant and writhe under him, eyes fluttering shut. 

“Not yet my love, I want you to watch.” He starts to move his hips and you wince in burning pleasure. “That’s it. You’re doing so good.” He grunts, snapping his hips back into you. The wet slap of skin hitting skin sends shivers down your back. 

You’re straining against the build up in your stomach, a pit of coils wanting to spring forth. “Mmm, harder.” You huff, reach out to grab the back of his neck. He shakes his head, a playful smirk on his swollen lips. 

“Use your manners.” He teases, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Please fuck me harder.” You mewl just as he starts to thrust into you with a quickened rhythm. Your breath is sucked away by the pure bliss aching from the friction. 

Muzan bites down on his lip, brushing a few curls that had come free from behind his ear. “You like it when I do that?” He quizzes, fucking you harder. You can only manage a nod.

Your voice has grown hoarse from moans breaking into screams and whines. You buck your hips along with his as you arch your back, tumbling over your peak. “F’ck, haa haa hnngh,” You squeeze his cock and release his neck, breathless from your second orgasm. 

“Cum all over my cock, fuck,” Muzan growls, the feeling of your slick cum coating his length. He was gliding into you with such ease. He would apologize to you later for this. He pounds into your sensitive cunt, overstimulating you as you cry out. He rams himself into you and stays deep within your pussy. Panting heavily Muzan finally crashes over his own wave of pleasure. Splurting his cum around the walls of your pussy. He doesn’t want to pull out – for one fact he wanted all of his cum to stay within you – and for another fact, you were all the salvation he needed. He could find redemption with you. He rolls you both onto your side, hiking your leg over his hip to make sure he can stay inside of you. 

This was it, you had driven him to the edge and he would make sure to never let anything else touch you. As he gazes upon your soft features drifting off to a satisfied slumber he feels what once was his heart ache. “We should get married.” He blurts out.

Heyyyy I love your work and I hope I’m not bothering you by asking you this, but will you be making a part 2 of your Hot and Tasty Rengoku fic? Totally okay if you’re not. Your writing is fantastic ❤️❤️❤️

This. Is. So. Sweet. Got me crying in the club fr fr. This really encourages me to try the best I can when writing <3 I have a whole Google Slides presentation dedicated to fics I want to write. I was thinking of one far in the future that would've been a short check-in when I first started writing it, but I fell in love with the storyline. So I'm fleshing out a longer version to give Kyojuro the love he deserves. This does mean it'll probably take a while for me to work up the courage to tackle it, but it's definitely on Google Slides!

<3 I hope my monkey brain thinks of more than just peen and boobies. And my hunchback of Notre Dame cosplay (gamer pose) doesn't fuck up my back even more than it already has.

ps. I just thought of that thing people usually do with their hands to sign s e x, but the circle is just rengoku as a donut :)