𝓐𝓻𝓲.🪽

bf!megumi who just shakes his head when he's in your room and sees all of your hentai figures (even though you swear up and down you only have them because they're 'cute').

★

bf!megumi always facetimes you before you go to bed because he loves how serene you look at night.

bf!megumi is always tuned in to your nightly hair routine narration like a loyal follower.

bf!megumi who never forgets to whisper "i love you" into the mic after you fall asleep every night before hanging up.

★

bf!megumi who can tell when your period is about to start before you even notice.

bf!megumi who always makes sure to buy your favourite chocolates and reminds you to drink water during your period.

bf!megumi compliments you extra while you're on your period. he always knows what to say.

★

bf!megumi who takes you on weekly dates so that it's impossible for you to ever think he's anything short of enamored by you.

bf!megumi who always arrives early to dates to get the table farthest from the entrance, and orders a tea for you so don't have to wait for a drink when you arrive.

bf!megumi who is always star-struck whenever you enter a room. you always look gorgeous and have a sparkly aura around you.

★

bf!megumi who always includes you, no matter what. whether he's hanging out with nobara and yuji, streaming in his leisure time, or when ordering at restaurants.

bf!megumi remembers your favourite flowers, cake flavour, colour(s), even the order of your skincare routine.

bf!megumi who always goes out of his way to make you smile, especially on study dates.

★

(suggestive)

bf!megumi loves kissing you. he can't get enough. he's always yearning for more, but he knows you aren't ready for that yet. it's so hard for him to hold back. especially times like now.

you both are in his apartment on the couch. you're perched on his lap and kissing all over his face. you think its funny how red his face is, but bf!megumi is so hard it hurts.

when you leave for the night, bf!megumi knows he has a few hours to "de-stress" before your nightly facetime.

★

if you liked ts you might like my other megumi works !

hello and goodbye ! kawaiiladygirl out ! ! !

he commanded armies the size of countries with a simple flick of his fingers, spilling countless amounts of blood across state borders to keep the people of his kingdom safe and secure. strategized against armies far larger than his own, front lines stretching for what seemed to be miles, only to find their weak points and drive his sword with precision.

leave with nothing more than a couple scars stretching through his torso, head held high into a kingdom that shouldn't have survived. he was a ruthless leader—no signs of hesitation present even as he killed his own people. any form of direspect was unacceptable, any attempts of formalities were laughable.

but the one thing that he didn't see himself as was as a father. didn't quite want to be one either.

it was expected of him, though.

sukuna was meant to produce an heir to hand over the kingdom and the crown he'd spent his life devoted into keeping safe, into protecting when the time was right. into raising a child to become a stone-cold carbon copy of himself, into making and shaping the next protector.

but as cruel and evil as he could be, he didn't think it'd be right to condemn a child to the same type of punishment he'd gone through simply by being born. to curse them upon conception to a future of scornful gazes and shutting doors.

you'd wanted a child, though.

not for the selfish, shallow reasons everyone else did. not for the sake of producing an heir, for producing the next military leader of the kingdom.

you wanted to see a little version of him running around the gardens, around the estate. maybe a little girl that had his same crimson eyes, staring back at you with a curious gaze, maybe a gummy smile. a little boy that had his same temper, that same scowl that you liked to poke fun at maybe.

so sukuna decided to try to give you what you wanted.

days passed by of your bodies entangled in silk sheets, soft whispers about a nursery in the dead of night (despite having a meeting the next day), of hope slowly dwindling down, until you were finally able to conceive.

it didn’t come all at once, didn’t even strike you as a possibility until the fifth week rolled around where the first (and only) symptom rolled around had been your missed cycle. it didn’t come as a loud, boisterous announcement for the kingdom to know. it’d been a quiet whisper in the night, your head against lord sukuna’s chest.

“i’m with child,” you whispered in the dead of night, his four eyes darting to look down at you. he’d felt it before you had, felt the quick heartbeat thumping underneath your own.

his hand splayed out onto your stomach, touch oddly gentle for a man so big. calloused, rough fingers stroked the soft skin where your child was growing, a quiet hum rumbling from his chest. “you and child are to be my priority, then.”

bliss didn’t last for long, uncontrollable cramps racking through your body every few minutes. the foods that you’d found yourself avoiding, found yourself gagging at the scent of, no longer affected you. the child sukuna had sworn to protect, that you’d tried to keep safe and be careful with, didn’t make it until the end of the weekend.

it left a hole inside of you that you couldn’t quite fill no matter how much you really tried, the loss filling your mind every time you were alone. the thought of your failure, of your inability to protect your baby haunting you each time you closed your eyes.

you didn’t want to try again immediately, didn’t want to risk the possibility of facing such heartbreak and disappointment yet again. but, you and sukuna brought yourselves to try once more. it’d been a loving exchange, four arms tracing through your body like you were something delicate, something to be cherished.

the first time you'd been unprepared, foolish, but you knew better this time around. upon your first missed cycle, you decided to go the church near the palace. it was unexpected to go so early in your pregnancy, but you weren't taking chances this time around.

there were hardly any people present at this time of day on a weekday, leaving you to talk with one of the nuns in peace. you bowed in front of her, "i'd like to request a cleansing, if that's possible." you went through various rituals, various sutra chantings to ward off any lingering spirits.

you'd started taking gradual steps in your routine as well—stopped carrying around strenuous amounts of laundry and materials, decreased the amount of tea you'd have in a day until you successfully managed to substitute it with water, and you'd opted to take a couple breathing exercises to keep your stress down.

there weren't any risks you were willing to take this time around, nothing that you would be unprepared for. you took notes from the elder women around the palace—not much, but each offering a helpful tidbit of advice.

and yet, all of that wasn't enough.

sukuna had gotten one of the finest nurses, on top of her program with various accolades behind her name, to be the one to ease this process for you. and yet, even when she spoke, it was detached, it was clinical. explaining each step of the process like it was a medical experiment, as if you weren't losing your child.

this kind of pain felt even worse the second time. not the physical pain, the cramps came to a halt a few days after the fact, but the pain you felt each time you let yourself think for too long. let yourself wonder why you weren’t meant to be a mother—even after you’d taken every precaution, every step necessary.

you hadn't moved in days. couldn't bring yourself to get up to do your tasks, couldn't bring yourself to get up and go take a shower. couldn’t bring yourself to get up to get more than a bite of food at time, unable to stomach something more than a simple fruit, than a simple loaf of bread.

the palace felt empty without your presence. maids and servants still bustled through the halls, talking and chattering about what latest gossip spread throughout the town while simultaneously juggling a basketful of linens. and yet, you weren’t there, giggling, trying out whatever the cooks had to offer.

you weren’t there anymore talking his ear off about the flowers coming into bloom, talking about what big plans you had for a nursery in the left wing of the palace, “a big crib in the middle of the room, made of the finest wood, a few bookshelves to read to them at night…” you had great ideas, it truly did ache you wouldn’t get to execute them.

sukuna doesn't knock before entering your chambers, the warm light from the hall pooling into the room. the curtains are pulled, bathing the room in complete darkness. he can barely make out your figure in bed, covers engulfing you whole.

he moves in your space as if it's a second home, padding across the room to the large dresser in the back. the wood creaks upon being opened, crimson eyes catching onto a garment neatly laid out on top of everything else.

a garnet colored hara-obi he'd ordered to get made as soon as you were pregnant to be worn on the fifth month, crafted from the finest fabrics his money could afford. its purpose was for announcing a 'safe point' in your pregnancy, though now you'd never get to wear it. never get to slip it over your body and parade it around. you should throw it away, and yet it sits in your closet, serving as a bitter reminder that it's only purpose was to collect dust.

he grabs an obi from the back of your closet, taking a seat on the edge of your bed. he wants to reach out, he wants to take your hand. but sukuna doesn’t, doesn’t think it’d be welcome. “the loss of child isn’t a burden you should take,” he utters, setting the clothes down.

you'd heard of various women in the kingdom getting pregnant with ease, some on accident, some going through the measures of getting rid of it. you couldn't understand what they had that you lacked, why you couldn't have a child of your own.

"you should find someone else to give you an heir, my lord." the words tasted like bile as they left your mouth, the thought of him having the future you'd once imagined with someone else, the thought of a child that wasn’t yours walking around the palace with his eyes.

it's what his ancestors did, though. there was no room for imperfections from noble women, if any were to be found, they'd just be replaced with the next fitting concubine, to one that could best fit the king’s desires. nothing short of the perfect legacy.

the maids whispered, you knew. expecting him to break the vows he'd promised to upkeep, expecting for the minute that one of the concubines came out sporting one of his children. came out announcing that the kingdom had an heir, someone to take the mantle years come from now.

sukuna merely let out a sigh, "an heir is meaningless if it means a lifetime spent away from you," he speaks as if it's the one thing that makes sense, as if it's the only thing that matters. two hands pull your blankets down, the other two helping you steady yourself up in bed.

you can’t look at him, can’t stand to see the inevitable look of disappointment you knew you’d be met with. he takes your chin, meeting your gaze. there’s no cruelty, no disappointment, just hints of concern. a sight rare for the king, something you’re not sure you’ve ever seen before.

"an heir, a child has never mattered much to me," he starts off, passing over the pile of clothes over, "but the thought of losing you is one i cannot fathom, one thought i cannot entertain. you are the one thing that makes an eternal life worth living."

sukuna didn’t need all the glory that came with being king, all the riches and the power that came with the title. didn’t need the concubines, the consorts, the heir that so many people were looking towards. he just needed you.

You’d sensed it the very first time that you managed to see into the deepest, darkest parts of him, the parts of him that one would never expect from a priest. You saw the parts of his soul where his desires danced like a flame; there’d been a pull, the essence of an unbreakable soul, one that always shines bright.

You’d been so ecstatic at the time, and you remember the feeling vividly. An unbreakable soul meant an endless supply of mana and an endless supply of mana only meant that you’d grow stronger and stronger.

And you have.

You used him, divulged his wildest dreams and secrets, shaped yourself into whatever he wanted you to be, you fed on his desires and emotions, and you used him as a bonfire for his passion.

Your kind thrived on those things after all.

He was nothing but a source of mana to you, nothing but a means for you to explore the mortal realm and live amongst humans peacefully, but you had soon learned that strong emotions, passion, often led to connection.

Connection led to attachment and you’d grown attached. So much that you fell in love with the one man you had thought wouldn’t mean much to you.

It wasn’t just the strength of his soul, it was the way his desires felt like gentle caresses when you explored them, the way his imagination captivated you and it was the way he looked at and spoke to you that had you weak in the knees.

It was the closest you’ve ever come to being cherished.

Yes, you, a succubus, fell in love with a human and those strong emotions were enough for you to capitulate and give in to human traditions by marrying him. You started building a life with Higuruma and he had such significance in your life that you couldn’t even bring yourself to feed off him as often as you used to.

Seeing him tired and drained simply so that you could be greedy? It made you feel guilty, so, to ensure that you don’t run low on mana and to ensure that he doesn’t ever grow lethargic, you only take what you need once a week.

Only once, never more.

So, when you find yourself slotted between your husband’s legs with his heavy cock in your mouth, it doesn’t come as a surprise. What does come as a surprise, however, is the fact that you even considered stepping foot into the cathedral where he’d lingered behind after a mass that ended an hour ago.

You used the excuse of a needy wife who wasn’t quite sure she had the right to demand that her husband come home immediately once the mass was over and your ever loving, ever doting husband couldn’t resist you.

The real reason as to why you couldn’t wait is because you’d already been running low on mana long before Higuruma left the house and when you found the courage to make your way to the cathedral, ignoring warnings that you’ve heard from other demons, you’d been surprised to find out that it wasn’t as scary as it was made out to be.

There was no pain, no blood that boiled to the point it felt like you were being cooked alive, the cathedral simply drained your mana a little faster than usual.

That meant that you had no time to waste. The last thing you wanted was for Higuruma to find out what you are. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how that’d unfold. Your life would change if he finds out.

You’d lose everything.

You hollow out your cheeks, taking Higuruma deeper into your mouth, deeper into its warmth until his flushed cockhead kisses the back of your throat. The coarse hairs that decorate the base of his cock tickles your nose and you moan when the heavy scent of it infiltrates your senses, the vibrations prompting your husband to thrust up despite his best efforts to keep still.

You didn’t ever think that he’d be willing to do such a thing; sitting with his cassock pushed up to his stomach, mouth agape while he allows himself to give into you while he remains perched on the very front pew in the cathedral where you’d first found him sitting when you arrived in a rush.

He’d been surprised when he’d seen you and why wouldn’t he be? You avoided the cathedral, hid under the guise of atheism so of course he didn’t understand why you showed up unannounced. Until you revealed the reason that you managed to come up with that is.

“Hmm—you needed me this much, darling?”

Your eyes flutter as you peer up at Higuruma, his features highlighted by the glow of the light that shines from behind you—where the altar rests.

“Mhmm.”

Your tongue swirls around his globular cockhead while your hands squeeze the base, massaging his shaft in the way you know he likes.

“Couldn’t wait, could you?” Higuruma groans when he feels his release build and he curses under his breath. “Look at you, my beautiful wife who has reduced me to a sinner.”

Drool collects at the corners of your mouth, and the salty-sweet taste of your husband has your pussy dripping with need. Your panties are completely ruined, completely soaked and your need makes itself known with near painful throbs.

Feeling this aroused doesn’t usually come with your body needing mana, though Higuruma had conditioned your body to react this way. Unbeknownst to him of course.

“Such a pretty girl, aren’t you darling?” Higuruma coos when he notices you squirm, voice smooth and so sinfully deep, though you hear the breathlessness, you hear the way he’s fighting with himself.

You feel the way his cock twitches—a little tell-tale that you’re about to get what you need.

“You want your—hmn—husband’s cum?” Higuruma pants, exhaling a heavy breath. “Then take it.”

With a desperate thrust of his hips, Higuruma’s cock sinks deeper into your mouth and with a groan, he spills his creamy release all the over the back of your throat.

You squirm some more, thighs clenching together to relieve the tension that has settled between them. Your pussy throbs and pulses and the taste of Higuruma on your tongue isn’t helping. He tastes so good, too good and all you do is swallow every single drop that he has to offer while your body begs for more.

Your body hums, like every inch of you is pulled from sleep as some of your mana replenishes. You don’t use that as an excuse to stop—you continue to clean Higuruma up, sucking on his sensitive tip which earns you a strangled groan.

“Oh, you really needed it, huh? My pretty succubus that desperate for mana?”

The world stops spinning, your heart skips one too many beats and your jaw goes slack. You heard him wrong, surely you did. You pull away from Higuruma, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand while your eyes go wide, breaths coming out in heavy exhales.

You stare up at him, half expecting him to laugh and say that it was merely a joke, but the words never come.

“What?”

“You heard me, darling,” Higuruma shifts on the bench, adjusting himself and tucking his cock back into his boxer briefs. “You are my pretty succubus, aren’t you?”

Your heart feels like it lodged itself in your throat. You don’t know what to think, you don’t know what to say. He has to be bluffing. Perhaps it’s an expression, an analogy that some humans use when they’re trying to be sexy.

“I couldn’t imagine that you’d feed off someone else.”

You feel so much that you’re sure your body goes numb. He’s completely serious.

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You don’t know what it is that you’re attempting to do or what it is that you’re going to gain by lying, but the words tumble out before you can even think. He seems to know what he’s talking about and that terrifies you.

It’s what you’ve been trying to avoid.

“Come now, sweetheart, there’s no need to lie,” Higuruma’s reaches out and his thumb smooths over your bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours. “Not anymore that is.”

You swallow the lodge in your throat, guilt and nerves eating at you like you’re some fragile disciple that committed the greatest of sins. You thought that you’d done an incredible job at hiding your secret, but your husband is more perceptive than you gave him credit for.

“So you—you knew? This entire time?” Your voice comes out quieter than you’d intended it to, but it doesn’t even bother you.

Higuruma remains quiet for a heartbeat and another and another.

“Not at first,” he admits, a small, tired smile pulling at the corners of his lips. “But I’ve had my suspicions after we had gotten married.”

You drop your gaze. You want to ask him how he’d found out, but it the answer is obvious—you’ve probably been careless, allowed yourself to get too comfortable with the fact that your secret would remain buried.

You feel stupid for allowing yourself to think that you’d keep your secret from someone who has spent majority of his life learning about faith and demons and everything in between.

If he knows what you are, there’s no doubt that he knows what you’ve done and somehow, that makes you feel worse.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” you finally manage to find your voice.

You consider the fact that maybe, just maybe had you told him the truth before, you wouldn’t feel as terrible as you do now. You left him to figure things out on his own and he must have felt so betrayed.

“What for, darling?”

You blink, brows knitting together. He sounds so unbothered, sounds like he’s already come to terms with what you are, but he can’t possibly be entirely okay with it. What you do is life threatening to the human you feed on.

Surely he knows that.

“Using you—lying to you.” You eye Higuruma with a narrowed gaze. “Aren’t you mad? You don’t hate me?”

Higuruma chuckles as he shakes his head, the sound deep and clearly amused.

“I’m not mad and I could never hate you, darling. You’re my light, my love, the one I’ve devoted my life to. You’ve devoted your life to me, no?”

Higuruma gestures to the cathedral.

“Despite your intentions, you were still willing to step foot in one of the few places that I can only imagine would be taxing for you.” Higuruma leans forward, lifting you before swapping your positions, allowing you to sit on the bench while he kneels in front of you.

“All I ask is that you show me all of you so that I can worship my wife in all her glory.”

You sputter. This isn’t how you’d imagined this interaction to go, but you’re relieved. You can’t deny that. Though, as much as the sight of Higuruma on his knees in front of you awakens something from deep within, it feels wrong.

And you know why. That position is reserved for followers and worshippers of gods and celestial beings.

“No, I can’t—worshipping a demon is wrong, I can’t just—”

“You,” Higuruma cuts you off. “Are more than just a demon, you’re my shrine, my altar of sin.”

His hands find the hem of your dress before he begins to lift it slowly. His intentions hit you like a freight train in that very moment.

“Despite what you may think, demon or not, you are the answer to my prayers, the one thing that keeps this—”

He places a hand right above the organ that pumps his blood while still looking up at you like you’re his salvation, like you’re his saviour and seeing that alone makes something tug deep in your chest.

You’ve never been looked at like that by anyone else before. Which makes sense—not many look at a demon and immediately think that they deserve to be worshipped.

“—Beating over and over again. So let me worship you, let me give you my life because it’s yours.”

His words are as sweet as ever, but still, you haven’t ever been on the receiving end of someone’s prayer and devotion. You’re not sure if it’s even allowed.

“Giving your life to the one you worship…” You start, eyes darting over Higuruma’s features where shadows dance due to the flickering light. It suits him somehow, brings out the charm in his features.

“Is that not… what churches and religions are for? Serving a god is what humans have been doing for the longest time.”

Higuruma is silent for a long moment and when he looks up at you with those sinful pair of half-lidded eyes as he peers up at you and you can feel your resolve crumbling.

Slowly. Painstakingly so.

“That may be true, yes,” Higuruma’s thumb traces mindless circles over your knee before he places a lingering kiss there. “But you’re forgetting something, darling.”

You blink, nibbling on your bottom lip before you allow yourself to speak.

“What is that?”

Higuruma pushes the skirt of your dress a little higher along your legs before placing a gentle kiss on your other knee. He presses his nose to it, breathing in the natural aroma of your skin.

“There are many people, including myself, who don’t need a church or religion to find something worth worshipping,” he pants, gaze heavy and pupils blown wide. “And I’ve got a wife—my wife who I will worship wherever and whenever I so please.”

You suck in a breath as Higuruma spreads your legs a little further, making room for himself right between them. Right now, he looks so sinful while dressed in that cleric attire, slotting himself between your thighs like an apostle ready to devote his life to his god.

“So please… let me.”

There it is, the last of your resolve crumbling into dust. After a short stretch of silence, you lift the rest of your skirt for Higuruma, exposing your drenched panties to him.

His cock aches at the sight of the way the thin material clings to the shape of your pussy and for the life of him, Higuruma can’t do anything other than inhale deep—an attempt to breathe in the scent of your need.

He kisses your inner thigh, a small little thank you for allowing him to do what he’s so desperate to, but he wastes no time in slipping your panties down the smooth planes of your thighs before they reach your ankles and he immediately discards the useless piece of material to the side.

“Before I worship you,” Higuruma pushes your thighs farther apart, allowing his greedy eyes to take in the way your need glistens under the warm glow of the light that pools from behind him.

You swallow hard when he leans in, his warm breath fanning the apex of your thighs, right where you’re dripping with need.

His nose slots between your drenched pussy lips and he inhales like the lewd man that you didn’t truly know him to be. He has been so dexterous at hiding even his deepest darkest desires from you that it’s almost scary.

Almost.

“Let me pray to her first.” Higuruma speaks directly into your sex before he pulls back enough, only after a short stretch of silence, to meet your gaze.

“Want to know what the purpose of the prayer that I’m going to use is?”

Before you can even think about it, you nod. You’re far too desperate, far too needy to deny this man.

“It shows praise,” Higuruma spreads your folds so that he can get a good look at your drenched cunt. “It allows for an opportunity to implore.”

Without glancing away from your pussy, Higuruma leans forward, tongue darting out before he drags it along your slit, an action that pulls a gasp from you while he collects the honeyed slick that just driiips there before swallowing it all.

“And most of all,” Higuruma’s eyes snap up to your half-lidded gaze while your breaths come out in soft, gentle pants. “It shows gratitude and only the lord knows—”

Higuruma peers at where you’re weeping for attention before he flattens his tongue, trailing the warm muscle higher and higher until it reaches your clit and that earns him a desperate whimper from you.

“—How grateful I am for this—hck—this sweet pussy.”

Then, with a sloppy SCHLIK! Higuruma’s tongue plunges deep into your velvety canal, massaging the crevices while his thumbs keep you nice and spread for him.

“Oh god, Hiro!” Your legs spread on their own accord, like your body knows what it wants and what it needs.

Higuruma makes a sound, one that has the vibrations shooting straight through you.

“No, darling,” he pants. “We’re not praying to god, not right now.”

Higuruma shifts as he adjusts his grip, allowing his hands to find the plush undersides of your thighs, keeping them apart as he devours your cunt. He fucks you slow with his tongue, taking the time to savour your taste.

Then, he murmurs something under his breath, something that you don’t quite catch, but you surely do catch the words that tumble from his mouth next.

“Hail Mary… full of grace,” Higuruma mouths into your pussy, pausing for a moment to slurp all of your need that gushes from you as the arched bridge of his nose presses against your clit.

You squeal, grinding yourself on his nose that earns you a feral groan from the man that has his face buried between your thighs.

“The lord is with thee.”

Higuruma laps at your pussy like a starved man, drinking from you like he isn’t murmuring a prayer right into your cunt. It’s sinful, so much so that you don’t even know what to do with yourself.

Your hands are braced on either side of you, hips bucking as Higuruma’s nose grazes your sweet bundle of nerves. It feels so good, but you know that the prayer is doing more harm than good.

Your energy feels like it’s being extracted from you—like an evil spirit that no longer has the power to possess its host.

Still, your need coats Higuruma’s face, pouring down the corners of his mouth while he blinks languidly, like he himself can’t think clearly. Not even too long in and he’s struggling to fight the effect that both the scent and taste of you have on him.

“Blessed art thou… a-among… women.”

You shudder, fingers raking through his dark hair as your head tilts forward, lips parting as breathless pleas roll off your tongue.

“Hiromi… that feels so—so good.”

He doesn’t respond and you’re not sure if it’s on purpose or not. He doesn’t even look away from where your arousal bubbles out of your needy orifice before he’s slurping that up too.

He truly is dedicated to praying to your pussy and he’s so focused.

“And blessed is the—hah—fruit of thy womb, Jesus.”

He all but smothers himself half to death, coating his lower half of his face with your sap.

“Holy Mary,” Higuruma’s tongue plunges so deep into you that even your need splatters out and he groans—in both satisfaction and the pain of dealing with a raging erection that presses up against his slacks.

The prayer itself is powerful enough to have goosebumps littering your skin, enough to have you panting as you break into a light sweat. It’s not hurting you, not burning your insides the way many other demons have warned you about this specific prayer.

No.

The prayer simply feels like a leech—one that latches on to your soul—and all it does is suck and suck and suck the energy from you. The little bit of cum that you’d gotten from Higuruma before isn’t enough.

“Mother of—hck—god,” Higuruma moans into you, eyes rolling back as you arch your back, using his face for your pleasure, using it to chase the feeling that you want.

“H-Hiromi, please.”

The pressure builds and builds and builds.

“Pray for… us sinners.”

He’s too far gone; too far gone to hear the way you call out so desperately for him. He’s drunk, completely intoxicated and it’s your lacquer that’s the cause.

“Now,” Higuruma’s tongue finds your clit again and he hollows out his cheeks before abusing the little bundle of nerves with his tongue.

He nips at your clit, humming to himself when you curse under your breath, brows knitting together as you tug on the roots of his hair.

“And at the hour of our—hmm—death.”

“Hiromi, please, I’m gonna… gonna—”

Your grip turns to iron, but Higuruma doesn’t care, doesn’t showcase anything that gives away the fact that he’s bothered by the way you tug on his messy strands of hair as you press his face deeper into your pussy.

And, as if hearing Higuruma’s prayer, your greedy orifice clenches around nothing just as a cry tears from your chest the moment your orgasm crashes over you, hitting hard. You all but bless him with your release, drenching his face in your candied slick that he gobbles up without hesitation.

His cock twitches painfully in its confines this time and Higuruma fights literal demons in order to keep from palming himself.

Your body responds so beautifully to his mouth and even just watching you buck and twitch as you use his nose to ride out your high has him nearly creaming his pants.

He has to fight it. He knows that he must.

“Amen.” Is the last thing he mutters before he slurps the dulcet answer to his prayer, tongue still bullying its way past your slick folds and grazing you where you’re most sensitive.

“Hiro—mmn—too much… please.”

Higuruma’s eyes dart up when he hears the desperation in your voice and his eyes narrow while a smirk tugs at the corners of his mouth when his eyes settle on your forehead.

Two pretty horns adorn it, shaped in a way that’s uniquely you.

“I was hoping that the prayer would help drain your energy more than what it has just so that I can see all of you, but as it seems,” Higuruma licks his lips and his eyes glint with something dark, something that you’ve never seen before.

“My wife is stronger than she looks, hmm? My strong little devil, yeah?”

Your brows furrow. You’re still coming down from the effects of your orgasm, and you’re struggling to think clearly.

“What—what are you talking about?”

Higuruma slowly pulls his hands from where they’d been resting on your thighs before pointing to his own head—right where horns protrude from yours.

“Pretty additions I must say, sweetheart. I guess even horns make a fitting crown.”

Your hands shoot up, fingers grazing the base of the part of you that you hadn’t seen, let alone felt in the longest time.

You hadn’t been aware of them, and your horns are a testament to the fact that the battle that you’re having with yourself is one that you can’t—one that you won’t win because even if it’s piece by piece, you’re breaking down.

Slowly, but surely and your mana can only do so much for you.

Heat pricks at your cheeks. You know that the longer you stay in this cathedral, the longer your husband keeps you here, the harder it is going to be to keep your disguise up.

“Now,” Higuruma places a lingering kiss to your puffy clit before he pulls away and rises to his full height. “I’m going to worship my wife.”

Higuruma pulls you off from the pew, lifting you with ease as he carries you over to the altar where the only source of light shines in the otherwise dark cathedral.

He places you on the edge of the altar, allowing your legs to dangle in the air before he works on pulling your dress right off from your body, leaving you exposed under his heated gaze.

Your nipples are hard and perky, chest heaving while slick still clings to the flesh between your thighs. The only difference about you right now and any other time Higuruma has taken the time to admire you, are those very prominent horns on your head.

He knows that you’re growing tired, that you’re too weak to even bother hiding them again. He doesn’t want you to. You’ve been hiding for years.

“So beautiful…” Higuruma murmurs as he leans down, arms bracketing your form as he litters kisses along your neck. “Every inch of you is just perfect.”

You make a small sound, heart clenching in your chest at Higuruma’s words.

Gently, he pushes you back until your spine hits the flat, cool surface of the altar, but even that sensation doesn’t bother you. The heat that radiates off you blocks it out entirely.

Higuruma settles directly between your thighs and you feel every single hard inch of his need press up against your pussy and you whine at the contact.

“Hiromi… I want—”

“My cock?” Higuruma murmurs as he presses his lips to your collar bone. “I know, but you’ll have to wait, darling. Your husband isn’t finished worshipping you yet.”

His hands glide over your body, from your waist to your sides before they reach your tits and with a gentle graze of each thumb, he rolls your hardened nipples under the rough pads of his fingers, pressing down with just the right amount of pressure.

You whine, the sensation urging your back off the altar and your hands find Higuruma’s shoulders for support. Feeling him grounds you, offers you a safe haven that you never knew was possible.

“That feels good.”

“I bet it does, huh?” Higuruma angles his head down, suckling on the plush mound of one of your breasts, leaving a little bruise behind before he takes his time marking you, relishing the taste of your flesh.

Your pussy clenches around nothing when Higuruma sucks on your nipple next, tongue lapping at the sensitive bud while his fingers play with the other. He divides his attention between both nipples, giving the other the same attention and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer to where you’re still drenched with need.

You’re searching for relief. You still ache despite having had an orgasm mere moments ago.

Higuruma groans when you pull him closer, grinding his hips against yours and the two of you gasp in unison.

“Wanna feel you,” you utter while tugging on Higuruma’s cassock and he hums, lips finding the valley between your breasts before he finally pushes himself up again.

You want his skin on yours; you want to soak up the warmth of his flesh. It’s what you crave aside from anything and everything else.

“Your skin on mine… please?”

“Who am I to deny my prettiest sinner, hmm?” He whispers, hands undoing the buttons of his cassock before the black material falls to the floor and the simple button-down shirt that he’d worn beneath soon follows suit.

He's left in the dark slacks that hang low on his waist, his belt still unbuckled and a rosary that drapes around his neck. The sight is as divine as it is sinful. Higuruma’s figure only glows under the dim light above the altar, sculpted muscles rippling as he leans forward again and the rosary dangles over you, a little too close for comfort.

You inhale a sharp breath, flinching despite yourself. You’ve never touched one before, never had one so close.

Higuruma follows your gaze and he exhales a chuckle as his hand envelopes the crucifix attached to the string of black beads, gentle gaze darting back to yours.

“This won’t hurt you. I’d never allow it to.”

Your brows furrow.

“But what if—”

“Let me show you.”

Higuruma pulls the rosary off from around his neck and you gasp when he holds it up for your gaze, closer than before. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, only allows it to hover over your flesh and when it doesn’t burn your skin like you’d anticipated, you release a heavy breath.

You’re not sure what’s going on. It seems that the warnings you’ve heard from the rest of your kind were but mere lies.

Not once have you been harmed, not once have you endured excruciating pain.

“You’re fine. I’d never let harm befall you, darling.”

Then, Higuruma lowers the rosary and holds the edge of the crucifix to your slick pussy, and you whine at the sensation as he drags it along your puffy folds.

“See? All good yes?”

You nod and Higuruma pulls the cross back only to replace it with his thumb. He gathers your slick before he moves to push back the hood of your clit so that he can expose it in all of its glistening and puffy glory.

“H-Hiro.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know. A little sensitive, aren’t you?”

Higuruma presses the smooth surface of the crucifix right up against your clit this time, pushing down on the sensitive bundle of nerves just right.

A gasp slips from your lips at that, your hips buck as you push them off the altar, thighs clamping together and squeezing Higuruma’s wrist, but he shakes his head at that, using the hand that he used to bare your rosebud to spread your legs again.

He wraps the beads of the rosary around his index and middle fingers.

“Come on, darling, we can’t have you doing that now.”

“But Hiromi—”

Without warning, he slips his fingers into the heat of your cunt, silencing you before you can even think about it. The pretty black beads graze your velvety walls as Higuruma thrusts his fingers in and out of your leaky orifice.

You whine all while he keeps the crucifix pressed to your clit and the combined sensations have you panting for breath. You forget how to breathe.

Just for a moment.

“Be a good girl and grind that perfect little clit on the crucifix, my love. You can do that for me, can’t you?”

You whimper, but nod nonetheless and before long, you buck your hips, choking on a mewl as your clit grazes the textured cross that Higuruma keeps pressed up against you—not too hard, but with just enough pressure to keep you hooked.

“There you go, that’s it. Look at you, my gorgeous, gorgeous wife.”

You’re far too gone, still fighting to keep yourself from transforming back into your true form, into your true self and it’s consuming a lot more energy. Sucking Higuruma off isn’t nearly enough to replenish the amount of energy that you need while being in the cathedral.

“Hiro,” you pant. “Feels so good, please, I wanna—ahn.”

“Want to what, darling?” Higuruma curls his fingers when you thrust your hips up and the beads around them presses on that hidden sweet spot deep inside of you.

“Fuck, Hiromi, I w-wanna—cumngh again.”

You jerk your hips, whining as your clit presses against the crucifix in the most delicious way possible and your slick gushes from your cunt, drooling all over Higuruma’s hand.

“Again? So greedy.”

Higuruma keeps his gaze on your drenched pussy—incapable of looking away from the pretty sight, of the way your arousal oozes from your desperate little orifice, of the way your need pours from you.

He licks his lips, feeding you the bead-wrapped inches of his fingers with every thrust and buck of your hips.

“Hiro,” his name rolls from your tongue like a mantra, a desperate little plea while your thighs quiver as you feel another orgasm build. “I’m gonna cum.”

“Then cum for me, darling. Cum so that I can give my greedy wife what she needs.”

And you do. Your walls flutter, muscles clenching around Higuruma’s fingers as he presses the crucifix harder against your clit. You roll your hips, grinding on it, riding out your high with the sweetest most dulcet sounds.

Slick oozes from you, dripping from you like nectar.

When you come down from your high, panting as your body buzzes with stimulation, Higuruma slides the crucifix lower, smearing your syrupy slick all over it, coating it with your release.

You make a little sound as he pulls his fingers from you before bringing the crucifix to his mouth before Higuruma’s tongue glides over the flat surface of it, licking up your sap that he just can’t seem to get enough of.

He cleans his fingers next, cock weeping with desperation at the taste of you. He doesn’t look away while he does so and it has heat coiling low in your gut.

You’re still needy, still desperate, but you’re desperate for your husband more than what you’re desperate for energy.

“Hiromi… please.”

Higuruma’s lips twitch at the corners as he slurps the last of your release off from his fingers and the beads and places a soft kiss on directly on the crucifix, murmuring something about being grateful about his newly blessed gift.

Then, he places the rosary back around his neck before he frees his raging erection. His cock twitches in his grasp, and you drool at the sight.

Higuruma taps his leaking tip to your sensitive clit before he smears your wetness along the tip of his cock and you squirm, oversensitivity pulling a whine from you.

“Guess I’ve kept you waiting long enough, hmm?”

Higuruma lines himself up with your leaking entrance, hissing when his flushed tip pushes past your puffy folds. You hold on to him for dear life as sheathes himself fully inside you, reawakening your sensitive crevices.

You swallow hard as he stretches you, stuffs you with his vein decorated girth.

“You feel like heaven on earth, darling.”

Higuruma pulls out before pushing back into you with a SQUELCH! and the sound is so obscene, so lewd that you can’t even fathom that it’s coming from you.

“So tight, so wet—always so wet.”

Higuruma kisses the corner of your mouth as you gasp and his arms cradle you, holding you close as he presses his chest to yours. He keeps the slow, rhythmic pace until you’re pleading for him to go harder.

You beg so sweetly, so beautiful that he can’t help but obey.

He gives you what you want with a grunt, cock plunging deep and hitting your most sensitive parts repeatedly. You can’t think straight, no thoughts linger in your fuzzy brain and you’re incapable of focusing on anything other than the feel of Higuruma’s cock stretching you out.

“Hah—feels so… mngh… you feel so good, Hiro.”

He drags his cock out, only to push back into your velvety innards with toe curling precision. He fucks you with hard, worshipful strokes, pulling the sweetest sounds from your drenched pussy and in the sounds echo like sinful whispers in the night.

“You feel so good, my love.” Higuruma buries his face in the crook of your neck, breathing you in as he drags out your pleasure.

“And if it’s cock that you want, if it’s cock that you need, I’ll gladly feed it to you over and over again.”

“You’re so filthy, I don’t think that you—ah!”

The cusp of Higuruma’s cock smacks your cervix and you choke on a wail. Every thrust breaks down your ability to stay intact, breaks down your ability to hold on to your sanity.

“And you can’t hold on for much longer, can you, my gorgeous, gorgeous girl?”

You shake your head just as a whimper slips free.

“I can’t—"

It’s not just your lack of mana that’s impacting you, it’s the sensation, the connection you feel that has you feeling vulnerable, too weak to even put up a fight with your own body.

“Then transform back.”

He’s still so insistent to see you for who you truly are. He hasn’t given up.

“Show me all of what you—hah—are because,” Higuruma’s cock reaches deeper and deeper and it becomes increasingly difficult for you to think clearly. “It doesn’t matter what form you take, I will always—”

He groans as he delivers a single thrust that has the tip of his leaking cock pressing riiight on your sweet spot and you cry out, feeling your strength crumble, feeling the way your body fights so desperately to hold on, but you’re weak.

Too weak.

“—love you the same.”

Higuruma’s hands find the underside of your knees as he presses forward, and he keeps you spread while pushing your knees back until they’re pressed to your chest.

His cock reaches deeper than ever before with the change in position and it’s that sensation that is your undoing.

You’re unable to hold on any longer, unable to find the strength that it takes for you to maintain your last semblance of humanity and before long, your skin colour slowly fades, tinting a pretty, pretty hue that isn’t at all natural for a human along every single inch of your body.

Your wings struggle behind you, flapping uselessly and your tail rests between your bodies while you hold onto Higuruma like only he can save you from the sensations that you’re feeling.

“Would you just look at that…”

Higuruma’s eyes rove over your features and if possible, he falls all the more in love with you.

He delivers another thrust before he rolls his hips, stretching you good and you cry out.

“You truly are perfect, huh? My perfect, perfect wife.”

His hips stutter and his cock twitches, pre-cum leaking from the tip and when he thrusts in again, you’re creaming on his cock with a choked cry, eyes rolling back as you claw at Higuruma’s back.

Your orgasm steals your breath, constricts your lungs and has your legs shaking while you moans fall from your lips like sweet hymns that soothe Higuruma’s soul. His orgasm is quick to follow suit and Higuruma groans as he empties himself inside of you, your amalgamation of sap oozing out and back onto the base of his cock.

He helps you ride out your high, cock pistoning into your cunt with repetitive squelches as he fucks his cum back into you, prolonging your pleasure in a way that has you seeing heaven.

You see it, you taste it and it’s magnificent.

When the pleasure ebbs, the two of you stay like that—breathless, panting messes. You feel much better, no longer a victim to the need to stay hidden, but you’ve yet to get out of the cathedral.

You’re still weak despite the new flow of energy.

“I don’t understand why you hid this version of yourself from me.” Higuruma murmurs, unmoving as he nuzzles your neck. “Perhaps I should keep you here so that you can embrace the worship that you deserve.”

You shake your head.

“I can’t stay in the cathedral, Hiro.”

Higuruma hums before he sighs, breath fanning the heated flesh of your neck before he pulls away. He seems torn by whatever is warring in his mind.

“This cathedral, my love, is not real.”

Your brows furrow, eyes darting around the interior and Higuruma’s eyes light up with mirth.

“Structurally, yes, it is—but it wasn’t built for the purpose of worshipping a god.”

You’re confused and Higuruma sees that. As bright as day.

“Maybe this will help you understand.”

Higuruma stills for a moment, and you want to ask him what on earth he’s doing, but you feel it before you see it. Higuruma’s hips jerk while he braces his hands on either side of your head.

Your vision goes blurry for a moment, and you gasp, back arching as Higuruma’s cock swells while he keeps himself buried deep inside your warm confines. He stretches you, and your breathing grows ragged while he hisses.

He's growing bigger somehow and it has you whining because the stretch feels obscene. It’s too much.

“What are—Hiromi—ugh.”

He grows bigger, every single inch of him. His limbs morph into a different shape, his flesh stains darker, unnatural, though the shade differs to yours. Large horns adorn his head while a long tail, one that matches yours flicks behind him and when he finally finishes his own transformation, your eyes go wide.

Not just from surprise, but because your pussy chokes on his girth.

Your eyes rove his new features, the features that he too kept hidden from you. This is the last thing that you’d expected to happen tonight, but it somehow makes sense.

Everything makes sense; the strength of his soul, his ability to ensure that no harm has been able to come to you, the reason why he wasn’t mad when he revealed that he knew what you were and everything else in between.

He's been a demon all along. A different species to yours, but a demon all the same.

You open your mouth to say something, anything, but your ability to speak betrays you.

Higuruma notices your speechlessness and his chuckle rumbles deep and, despite the immense change that happened right before your eyes, his gaze is no different from before—it’s still gentle, still full of adoration, still worshipful.

You find your voice before he can say anything.

“You built the cathedral.”

That is the only reason you can think of when it comes to why being in here has done absolutely nothing to harm you.

“Yes, darling. I did—many, many years ago.”

“You made me believe that it was real by absorbing my mana.”

“I did, yes—nothing that’d harm you.”

Higuruma places a kiss on your cheek before he lifts a hand to cradle your smaller one so that he can bring it up to cup his face. Your thumb moves mindlessly, drawing light circles on his cheek as Higuruma keeps your hand there.

“I’ve given you some of mine too, so I hope that you can forgive me.”

“I think I can manage to do that.”

A beat of comfortable silence passes and not because you’re angry or struggling to come to terms with what you’ve just discovered. You’re simply allowing yourself to get a grip on the fact that you’d been right about what’d happen when your secret is revealed.

Your life is going to change, though, just not in the way you anticipated.

“Hiromi.”

Your eyes snap to where your bodies are still connected. You’re too reluctant to move.

“Yes, my love?”

“You don’t think that you could have pulled out before transforming?”

© nyxiedreams 2026 ⋆ All rights reserved ⋆

A/N: Amen. Aman. A man—A deman.