Teras ☆

The shrine is empty save for you, save for him, save for the weight of fate finally closing in, the final chapter finally being written

You feel the floorboards creak before you see him—four arms braced against the frame, extra eyes gleaming in the dim light, marking your every tremor with predatory precision. He doesn't rush. He has waited centuries for this, for you, and the anticipation has made him patient in the most terrifying way.

"There you are," Sukuna purrs, voice layered like velvet over broken glass. "Hiding from me?"

You haven't moved, but he acts as though you've run. He likes the chase, even when it's imagined. It gives him excuse to be rough, to pin you against the altar with two hands while the other two trace patterns into your skin—possessive, reverent, marking.

His true form towers, overwhelming, but he folds himself around you until you're drowning in the heat of him, in the smell of blood and something dangerous, intoxicating. His extra eyes rarely blink, watching from angles that shouldn't be possible, ensuring you have nowhere to look that isn't him.

"You've been letting others look at you," he murmurs against your throat, teeth grazing just hard enough to bruise. "Touching what's mine. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

His fingers—too many, all skilled and deliberate—find the places that make you gasp. He learns you instantly, mapping every sensitive point with cruel accuracy, playing your body like an instrument he invented. Two hands keep you pinned; two hands explore, teasing, denying, rewarding.

"Say it," he commands, breath hot against your ear. "Say who you belong to."

When you hesitate—when you always hesitate, because some part of you knows surrender means forever—he growls, low and vibrating through your chest. His grip tightens, not painful but inescapable, four arms creating a cage of muscle and intent that feels like worship wrapped in violence.

"Mine," he snarls, and then his mouth is on yours, swallowing your moans, your protests, your very breath. He tastes like copper and power and obsession, and he doesn't stop kissing you even as his hands work you higher, relentless, demanding every shudder, every whimper as tribute.

Any clothes you have on— any defence against his wandering hands, his intent— is practically paper thin as he explores you, as he disrobes you carefully but quickly. You feel like a desert on display, or perhaps a prey animal baring its stomach in hopes of a quick death.

But things are rarely quick with the king of curses. He prefers to drag the gasps and moans out of you, to make you ache with need before finally taking what he wants. And he laughs when you speak— to beg for more or for respite, it doesn’t matter in the end— as he continues on, hands and fingers and tongues brushing over skin with reverence saved for worship.

His fingers trail down, down, down— towards the place where heat gathers in your gut, where you clench against his prodding fingers, gasping.

He makes quick work of you— spit and arousal aiding him as he pries you open around two fingers, then three, then four.

“One day,” he growls low against your ear, fingers curling against that special place that makes you gasp. “You’ll take all of me, both my cocks, in the same hole… but for your first attempt, I’ll be nice. I even prepared you. Really, you should thank me.”

One set of hands grasping your hips, he guides the head of one of his leaking cocks towards your entrance. He teases, pressing inside slowly as you writhe and choke on your own sounds while inch by torturous inch makes acquaintance with your insides.

You throw your head back with a strangled scream when you feel his hips against yours, numbingly full with him. His breath warms your shoulder, puffs of air making you shiver against the chill of the shrine.

His hands squeeze around your hips as he pulls out, throbbing flesh dragging against your sensitive walls. He adjusts his grip on you, pulling away from your neck to grin down at you, eyes catching the dying moonlight that illuminates the two of you, wrapped in carnal embrace.

“Prepare yourself, little mortal,” His voice curls around you as he speaks, feeling tiny jolts of pleasure as he grinds back in slowly. “I won’t be stopping until you’re stuffed full of me, dripping with my seed, so every insignificant ant in this world knows you’re mine.”

You shriek as he pushes back in, uncontrollable sounds escaping you as he sets a brutal pace. Your arms collapse against the altar, back pressing flat against the smooth marble. He worships you there, ravaging your flesh with holy attention, skin to skin, soul to soul.

You cum on his cock, soothed by hands and tongues and lips pressing against your skin as he makes truth of his promise, and fills you round after round with cum.

You wake the next morning, in Sukuna’s private quarters, dressed in the finest of cloths with the King of curses curled around you, both sets of arms cradling you to his broad chest.

His breaths brush your shoulders again, and as you whisper into the morning air “yours, ‘kuna” you feel his lips curl into a satisfied smirk.

AO3 link.

Pairing: shinsoukoku

Additional warnings: Service Top!Atsu+Power Bottom!Aku, semi public sex

Enjoy.

It was truly breathtaking, Akutagawa thought, to witness the weretiger in action.

To see him tear through abilities and people like shredding paper. To feel the raw power coursing through him as he moves about the battlefield. To feel those powerful, deadly hands press him down against the soft sheets of his bed, to feel him tear both their clothes off like a starved animal.

It is not the first time he has fallen into bed with the weretiger— Atsushi, as he begged to be called during these moments— nor is it the first time he has allowed the weretiger to ravage him, to make him submit not as a display of weakness, but as an act of trust.

This is the first time Atsushi has chosen to do so not ten minutes after a fight.

It's obvious that Atsushi is still running on adrenaline, pupils dilated like a cat's and chest heaving. He backs Akutagawa up against the wall of a mildly collapsed building, clawed hands curling into the concrete by his head.

He grinds his hips against the crook of Akutagawa's thigh, mouth and tongue and teeth pressing veverishly hot against his neck as he fumbles with the buttons of his pants.

"Please," Atsushi murmurs deliriously, shallow thrusts speeding up as he finally works his hand into Akutagawa's pants. He clumsily paws at Akutagawa's cock while he gasps and whines before finally pulling his half-hard dick out of his slacks. "Ryuu, let me make you feel good, please???"

Atsushi continues to beg, hand trailing up and down his length until Akutagawa can feel tears brimming in the corners of his eyes. "Fu— Weretiger, if you don't get inside me within the next two minutes I will castrate you—"

He barely gets through the demand before Atsushi is pushing him up, forcing his legs up and away so he can tear clean through Akutagawa's pants and push his rumpled white shirt up his chest. It's a wonder Atsushi hasn't torn it off yet. His shout of anger quickly becomes a cry of shock as Atsushi drops to his knees, mouth pressing against his hole with a desperate moan.

"Thank you thank you thankyouthankyou—" Atsushi rushes out, lips brushing against where he needs him most before that ache inside him is being filled by Atsushi's warm tongue and prodding fingers.

He chokes on a sob as Atsushi rushes through prepping him, moans and praise falling from the weretiger's lips whenever he separates from Akutagawa long enough to speak. Atsushi is an impatient man, but he is also a deranged lunatic who enjoys watching Akutagawa fall apart before he's even inside.

Eventually, Atsushi's need to be inside him overpowers his desire to make Akutagawa come apart— not a moment too soon, he thinks bitterly as the edge recedes as Atsushi pulls back. Atsushi stands quickly, pushing Akutagawa up against the wall and freeing his monstrous cock in one movement.

"Can— please, Ryuu, inside??" Atsushi begs, lavishing kisses and bites against his pale neck generously. He doesn't need to ask for permission, Akutagawa shifting to rub his aching heat against Atsushi's throbbing cock.

"Of course, my weretiger," He purrs, hand coming up to tug at the short air at the base of Atsushi's head.

Atsushi responds with a snarl, hips snapping up to sheath himself inside Akutagawa in one fluid thrust.

Akutagawa can't stop the scream that tears from his throat as Atsushi slides home, cockhead pressing deliciously against his prostate. Atsushi stalls for a moment, taking deep, shaky breaths as he adjusts. It's only when Akutagawa starts to whine that he moves, pulling out and slamming back in not a second later, like he can't bear to be outside of Akutagawa's tight heat for even a moment.

"Ff— Fuck, Ryuu, look—" Atsushi sounds pained, eyes locked on Akutagawa's stomach. Akutagawa barely glances downwards before he's throwing his head back with a high-pitched keen, hand coming to rest against the visible bulge of Atsushi's cock.

Holy shit.

Atsushi's pace picks up with renewed vigor, teeth planting firmly onto his collar bone. "Tha's all me, yeah? Just me— only one who makes ya' feel this good—" Atsushi babbles, tears trailing down his cheeks— a shocking contrast to the brutal pounding he was offering Akutagawa's sensitive guts. "The only one, right? Just the two of us?" He asks quickly, pulling out to just the tip. Tease.

"Do we need— ah, anyone else?" He responds in kind, hooking his ankles behind Atsushi's back with a small groan. Atsushi huffs in amusement, hips snapping back into place. He buries his face in Akutagawa's shoulder once more, resuming his mission to leave him covered in marks.

Akutagawa hisses as his orgasm fast approaches, muscles clenching. "Ah— Atsushii—" He moans, head falling back against the wall with a frown. "Can't— close, 'm so close, I—"

"With me, Ryuu," Atsushi sighs, grinding deep inside. He takes Akutagawa's cock in hand, languidly stroking in time with his thrusts, driving Akutagawa mad with dual pleasure. "That's it— good, so— ngh— fucking perfect, all for me—" He stills, hips jerking as he unleashes his load deep inside Akutagawa's body.

Akutagawa jolts in shock, caught between moaning at the sensation of being filled and scowling at the uncomfortable feeling of cum filling him further than it should. "Weretiger," He hisses, "You insolent—!"

"Shut up, Ryuu," Atsushi sighs, resuming his strokes. He remains still inside Akutagawa, thumbing at the head of his cock with a thoughtful hum. "That's it, falling apart so perfectly for me," He smiles, kissing the tears from Akutagawa's cheeks.

Atsushi works him through his orgasm, holding him up as the pleasure fades into the comfortable ache of exhaustion and overstimulation. He scowls as Atsushi sets him down, staring at the tattered remains of his pants while he stands on shaky legs.

"C'mon," Atsushi wraps an arm around his waist cheerfully. "Let's head home and get you a bath."

Akutagawa doesn't comment on Atsushi calling his apartment "Home."

A03 link.

Pairing: Ranpoe

Additional warnings: top!ranpo+bottom!poe, t4t!ranpoe.

Terms used to describe anatomy: cock, dick and hole

Enjoy.

Poe hadn't thought much when Ranpo burst into his office, holding a cardboard box and claiming that he had a surprise.

Now, if he knew what Ranpo had planned, he would have waited before so readily agreeing to using some machine to fuck him stupid.

"That might be a fun idea, y'know," Ranpo states thoughtfully, like he's not actively taking Poe apart piece by piece, running a hand down his back as he shakes. "Seeing if you can solve a mystery while I pound your brains out. I'd bet you could make it maybe… half of the way there before you cum."

Poe whines low in his chest, trying to twist his hips away from the steady pressure filling him up with heavenly vibrations. It's almost perfect, but the plastic rearranging his guts was nothing compared to Ranpo's cock.

"Are you even paying attention to what I'm saying at this point?" Ranpo mocks, tangling his fingers in Poe's sweaty locks and pulling. Poe can't stifle the whine that falls from his lips or stop the tears that trail down his cheeks. Ranpo's sadistic gaze graces his blurry vision, and he chokes on another sob.

"Awh," Ranpo laughs, tugging Poe's hair again. "Poor baby, this machine fucked your brains that good? Too stupid to answer me?" He drops his grip, and Poe's forehead hits against the bedsheets with a quiet moan of relief. Ranpo hums and Poe barely manages to lift his head in time to see Ranpo grip his restrained wrists and pulling.

He gasps as the new angle forces the fake cock deeper into his hole, ramming slowly against that special spot that makes him see stars. "I asked you a question," Ranpo murmurs against his neck, sucking crude marks against his pale, flushed skin. "C'mon, baby boy, answer me. Unless you're too stupid to answer me at this point?"

Poe swallows down another moan, another desperate sound as Ranpo cranks up the speed of that damned machine. Right. The question, Ranpo asked him… asked him..

Ranpo ducks his head, trailing kisses down his neck as Poe struggles to answer. "I— ah, I don't—"

"Fuck— ah, Ranpo! Yes, Y-yess," Poe gasps as Ranpo tugs at his sensitive chest, thoughts scrambled beyond recognition. "Yesyesyes— Yes, I'm— I can't— so good, Ranpo, Ranpo, I— please!!"

Ranpo laughs cruelly, hands gently cupping Poe's cheek for a moment before his grip tightens and he tugs his mouth down. The kiss is all tongues and teeth and it does nothing to distract him from Ranpo slowly increasing the pace of the toy until it reaches maximum speed. He pulls away to watch Poe come apart for a few moments, smiling like a sadist as Poe jerks and writhes in an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure.

The sensations cut off suddenly and he whines so desperately it forces the air from his lungs. Ranpo silences him with a kiss as he pulls the toy from his hole, shoving him to lie on his back before reinserting the toy. "There, you'll get what you wanted in a second, I just wanted to—" He cuts himself off with a groan as he settles down, straddling Poe's thigh. "Y—yeah, that's good."

Ranpo adjusts for a moment, slowly rocking his hips back and forth and grinding his cock down onto the flesh of Poe's thigh. He groans as Poe whines again, snatching up the remote for the fucking machine with a pout. "Shit— You're that desperate for cock, huh? Well, here, let's see how long you last." He grins, thumb brushing over the button that will renew that wonderful sensation.

All at once, the sensation resumes. Fast thrusting, strong vibrations right where he needs it most, Ranpo laughs at the fucked out expression on Poe's face, sucking a mark right over the sensitive bud of his nipple. Poe throws his head back, moans and cries spilling from his lips like a waterfall without his consent. Ranpo resumes his grinding, hands settling on Poe's hips for stability. "Ran— Ranpo," Poe begs frantically, hips jerking and grinding down on the plastic dildo fucking into him quickly. "Can't— ngh!! Can't hold out fo— for much longer— ah!"

"Yeah, yeah, just— agh, fuck— let go, baby, I'll look after you." Ranpo groans, his own movements speeding up as he draws closer to his own orgasm. Poe whines, twisting his face to hide against the bedsheets.

His orgasm crashes into him, body convulsing and writhing in pleasure as he cums and falls somewhere soft and safe and floaty. Above him, Ranpo thrusts his hips once, then twice, before he falls over the edge himself, mouth dropping open.

He stills as his orgasm runs through him, head tossed back in a silent scream before he crumples like a puppet with cut strings. His breath brushes against the flushed skin of Poe's shoulder for a moment before he lifts his hand shakily, running his fingers through Poe's hair. "Alright, you can rest now," He murmurs, eyes shut. "I'll look after you."

Poe takes a deep breath, shakily lifting his hand to wrap around Ranpo's shoulders before he passes out.

—————

Poe wakes up hours later, eyes fluttering open with a quiet murmur. Ranpo peers over him, carefully swiping a cool washcloth down his neck and chest. "Go back to sleep, Ed," Ranpo whispers, smiling softly. "We'll talk in the morning."

Link to the ao3 fic.

Pairing: soukoku

Additional warnings; trans!Chuuya, top!Chuuya+bottom!Dazai

Terms used to describe Chuuya’s anatomy: dick, cock

Minors DNI.

Enjoy

"Are you sure about this, Dazai?" Chuuya started, hands hovering two tantalising inches from where he desperately needed them. Dazai resists the urge to roll his eyes or whine or cry. So close to what he needs, and Chuuya chooses now to hesitate?? "We can always do this some other time—"

"Chuuya, if you don't get inside me in the next few minutes, I'll tie you up and ride you until you cry." He hisses, hands twisting tighter in the sheets around his head. Chuuya observes him for another agonising moment before huffing.

"Alright, you big baby," He teases, tone dripping in amusement. He thinks this is funny!? He's been edging Dazai since he got here, and he wants to laugh!? "Since you don't know how to be patient…"

Dazai opens his mouth to retort back— Chibi just doesn't know how to have fun— But the hands dragging his legs further open pulls an embarrassing squeak from his lips, one that quickly becomes a whine as Chuuya drags his finger over Dazai's stretched hole.

"I'll bet you thought about me, about this." Chuuya grins, far too cocky. "You did, didn't you? thought about me spreading you open with my cock, deeper than your fingers could reach?" One of Chuuya's hands grabs at his thigh, kneading the flesh as he speaks, and all of Dazai's higher brain functions have been shut offline to focus solely on breathing.

Chuuya laughs, the sound vibrating against his neck as Chuuya lavishes kisses and bites there in equal measure. "Can't even answer me, and we've barely begun." He teases, sucking a mark into the space just below Dazai's ear. He doesn't even complain about the mark being too high to fully cover with his usual bandages, breath hitching at the steady pressure applied to his hole.

Chuuya takes his cock into his hand, stroking a generous amount of lube up and down the plastic with a grin. the cock head slides over his hole for a few tantalising moments before Dazai snaps and whines, lifting one slender leg to wrap around Chuuya's waist, tugging him closer.

"Pleaseee, Chuuuuyaaaa," He whines, cupping Chuuya's cheek with a small pout. "I've been so gooood, right? Shouldn't I be rewarded?" He pulls Chuuya's face closer, pressing feather-light kisses to his cheeks, over each freckle and imperfection.

Chuuya allows the illusion of control for a moment before pulling back, hands settling on his hips with a punishing grip. "A reward, huh?" The ginger muses, rocking his hips back and forth leisurely, teasingly. "For breaking into my apartment instead of waiting nicely?"

He pushes forward, slowly working the head inside before cruelly pulling away and tearing a whine from Dazai's throat. "Hm, I think you can do better than that." He teases, trailing his hands up Dazai's chest to tweak his flushed nipples. His grin widens at the sound he pulls from Dazai. "Beg."

Dazai blanks, eyes wide and unseeing for one moment before Chuuya drags the head of his cock over Dazai's entrance again. It's like the floodgates open. "Please— Please, Chuuya— I've been so— sooo good I promise—"

Chuuya presses in with no warning, weight boring down as he grinds the head of his cock against Dazai's walls. "There we go," He groans, hands pressing hot and heavy against Dazai's hips as he pulls him down further on his dick. "Knew you could be good f'r me, god—"

Dazai hisses as Chuuya bottoms out, the stretch and fullness settling deep in his stomach as he shifts his hips back and forth slowly. "S- So, deep… chuuyaa..!" He groans, arching his back off the sheets involuntarily as Chuuya slowly pulls out until just the tip remains. His whine quickly becomes a moan as Chuuys slams back in, working up a brutal pace that leaves him seeing stars.

"God— never know when to shut up, do ya?" Chuuya snarls, grip tightening on his hips, and Dazai hopes for one, delirious moment, that he'll leave bruises. "That's alright— all ya need is a good dicking down and you shut right up." He mocks, pointedly aiming for Dazai's prostate to kick his moans up another pitch.

Dazai attempts to rock his hips down onto each savage thrust, but with Chuuys holding onto his hips as tightly as he is, he only manages to shake with each slap of hips against his own. At some point, even his moans die down to fucked out whines as his orgasm fast approaches.

"Ch- Chuuya—!" He attempts to warn, but the ginger only shushes him, kissing away his tears sweetly, a striking difference to the brutal pounding.

"It's okay, 'Samu," He pants, head coming to rest on Dazai's shoulder as his thrusts falter, as his energy wavers. "Just— let go, yeah? Be good for me, just- just—"

Dazai cuts him off with a choked whine as his orgasm washes over him, cum spurting onto his stomach in pulses. Chuuya curses and fucks him through it, sucking a few more marks onto his chest until Dazai shakes from overstimulation and cries— actually cries— for respite before he finally pulls back, hand reaching under the fake cock to rub furiously at his.

Dazai watches with awe as Chuuys comes apart above him, chest heaving and skin flushed a pretty pink. Chuuya cries out as he comes, jerking himself off through his orgasm until his body twitches with overstimulation.

He flops down against Dazai, hot breath puffing against the flushed and shiny skin of his neck.

Dazai waits a moment to speak, clearing his throat with a cough. "So… round two?"