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gloomyandpitty · 6 months

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FLAME DON'T DISAPPOINT EVER

🫵☺️

I need more human muzan smut and I know you'll get the job done and do it amazingly

So imagine this human muzan getting pegged for the first time

I just KNOW he would wimper

OH Gloomy, Gloomy, Gloomy... I was doing so well at concentrating on my existing WiPs, and then you come here blasting my siren song. Human Muzan. Whimpering. How am I supposed to resist? (THANK YOU)

Pairing: Human Muzan x F!Reader

Content Guidance: NSFW. Muzan getting pegged. Dom!reader. Sub!Muzan. Approx 2k words.

There weren’t many people willing to spend a moment longer than necessary with Lord Muzan. While it was generally agreed upon that the nobleman was handsome, educated, and certainly wealthy enough to be a desirable husband, his temper and his vicious tongue drove everyone away; from suitors to servants. But not you.

Your humble home sat on Kibutsuji land, and each year you were expected to pay taxes in the form of resources. Game, fish, silk, anything which would make the noble family’s life more pleasant.

Muzan’s health was in decline, and so he spent most of his days in his room where the elements couldn’t exacerbate his condition. Though he was terrible at showing it, you knew he appreciated your visits. He would lie on his back with his eyes closed as you read to him, his hands resting on his stomach, his expression for once relaxed. Sometimes he would have you play the koto for him and tsk at you when you refused to sing. Other times he’d ask you about the weather, to describe the ways the world was changing with the seasons, narrowing his eyes when you hesitated or repeated yourself.

You entertained him in exchange for the privilege of living on his land, but in truth, you didn’t mind it one bit.

Especially not when he asked for a kiss because he’d never had one and it infuriated him to think he was missing out. Or when he let you stroke his cock, shuddering in your arms as he muffled his cries of ecstasy against your breasts.

Gradually you showed him new experiences, new pleasures. And he was your willing pupil.

It pleased you to no end to unravel him, to watch his pretty noble face contort in ecstasy as you rode his cock, to fulfill his desires and reduce him to a pleading, whimpering mess. He took pleasure in begging, in earning praise, in obeying commands. All his life he had benefited from his high status, but he would happily let you, a lowly commoner, subjugate him for the promise of the blissful heat of your cunt or your mouth.

And it was during one of your visits, when the cherry blossoms hadn’t yet opened and the wind was still a little on the cooler side, that Muzan sat up in bed and took the book you were reading to him from your hands.

“I don’t want that today,” he said. “It’s tedious”

“Alright.” You drew your knees up as you sat on the end of his bed, your toes hidden beneath the bottom of his blanket to stop the cold from getting to them. “What do you want to do instead?”

Muzan pulled in a slow breath, his eyes lingering on your face, studying you as he so often did. “Have you ever fucked anyone in the ass?”

His question caught you off guard. “I… my lord?”

“I’m not going to tell anyone if you have. I’ve no interested in tarnishing your reputation or jeopardizing your future, I just want to know if you’ve ever worn a strap and fucked somebody. Or, I suppose, you can just tell me if you would be willing to fuck me that way.”

“Of course I would.”

Your answer pleased him. His lips curved into a smile. “Good.” He lifted his chin toward a drawer at the far side of the room, a beautiful, ornate piece of furniture with an oval mirror on top, which must have been passed down through his family for generations. “In there.”

He waited for you as you walked to the drawers and slid the top one open. There, nestled in a silk pouch, was a cock made of polished and lacquered wood, with a thick leather strap, and a bottle of carrageenan lubricant. You took it out and turned to see Muzan sat upright in his bed.

The corner of his lips tilted into a smirk. “Well?”

“It’s quite big,” you warned him. “Heavy too. Do you think you can take it?”

“I trust you to ensure I can. And, if the sensation becomes too much, I know you’ll stop when I say.”

“You don’t always mean stop when you say it,” you countered. “Many times you’ve begged me to stop then gotten frustrated at me when I do.”

He let out a thoughtful hum and looked out of the window to the grove of trees affording them privacy. “Fine. You have a point. If I truly want you to stop I’ll say wisteria.”

“Wisteria,” you repeated. “Very good.”

Muzan rocked forward to get on his hands and knees in preparation for you, but you halted him with a firm “ah ah ah.”

He raised a dark eyebrow.

You stepped closer, placing your fingers beneath his chin and tilting his face up to look at you. “What do you think you're doing? I want you on your back. I want to watch that pretty face flush while you're taking this fat cock in your ass.”

The look in his eyes was a mix of arousal and excitement as his lips curved into a grin. “You’re wicked.”

“That’s why you let me get away with not paying taxes,” you quipped, raising your skirt to tie the leather strap around your hips. “Take off those nightclothes and get on your back, my lord.”

He did exactly as you asked, pulling off his crisp, white bed clothes to reveal his pale and slender body. It had been a long time since he even felt a moment of self-consciousness around you, and you around him. There wasn’t a single inch of your body he hadn’t kissed, licked, touched, and his body was as familiar to you as the path back home. You knew exactly how he liked to be touched, and despite his many shortcomings, he had committed the key to pleasing you to memory.

You also knew what he could withstand, what his condition allowed his body to endure. And he knew he could tell you if you misjudged.

And gods, despite the fact that he was the one who had initiated it, you could see the trepidation amid his excitement. His belly undulated with every labored breath as he lay back, bending his knees while you spread the seaweed jelly on the length of the cock.

“What a sight,” he whispered, his breaths staggering as he gazed at you with desire-darkened eyes.

His own cock was already at half-mast; engorged and lying against his lower belly, his foreskin still covering most of the tip. But the moment you pressed your slippery fingers between the cleft of his ass to circle his hole, his cock twitched toward you, a strangled moan sounding in the back of Muzan’s throat.

“Sinful,” he muttered, gripping the sheets as you continued your ministrations, feeling the tight muscle flutter with every slick stroke.

“Nothing sinful about it,” you assured him. “Besides, since when have you given two shits what the gods think, Lord Kibutsuji?”

A slanted grin tilted his lips, interrupted by a cry as you pressed your finger into him, pushing past the tight ring of muscle into the soft warmth of his ass, stroking his inner walls.

“Oh fuck… nghh…Stop stop, wisteria!” he gasped, reaching down to grip your wrist, halting your progress but keeping you in place. A shuddering breath escaped him as you paused. “I need a moment. It’s… Gods, to be penetrated… to have you inside my body… it… I can’t describe it…”

“You poor thing,” you mocked gently, kissing his inner thigh affectionately. “I haven’t even gotten to the fucking you stupid part and you’re already slipping.”

His lips tightened as a groan escaped him. “Accursed woman, taking enjoyment in my ruin.”

“Oh, my lord, I haven’t even begun. I intend to have you whimpering like the dog you are.”

His cock twitched once more as his lungs emptied and his grip on your wrist loosened. “Continue.”

It only took a stroke of your finger before the room filled with the deep, broken moans resonating from his chest. He tried to stifle them against his palm as you fingered his hole, stretching him out, readying him to be fucked. His cock stood taller with every passing minute, hard and heavy and begging to be touched. But you wouldn’t, not yet.

“You’re doing so well,” you whispered as you slid a second finger into him, taking more than a little pleasure from the way his back arched off the floor.

“Fu-hu-hu-ck,” he moaned, threading his hands through his hair and covering his eyes with the heels of his hands. “More…”

"Harlot."

Of course, you obliged. Muzan’s toes curled as you pumped your fingers into him, stroking the slick heat of his walls, watching him come undone beneath you, his face flushed pink and his nipples puckering with arousal.

“Are you ready to take this?” you asked at last, when you had worked him open and left him a panting, hazy-eyed wreck.

He could only nod, spreading his legs wide and raising his knees to his belly, exposing himself to take the strap.

“Such an obedient little cock-slut,” you teased him, withdrawing your fingers and pulling a desperate whine from his lips. "So eager to get fucked."

Every panting breath staggered from his lips revealing the arcs of his ribcage. His mouth, which was so used to spitting vitriol and command hung open, capable of only wanton moans as you pressed the head of the cock into his eager hole.

“That’s it,” you encouraged him softly, pressing a palm down on his belly. You eased into him slowly, letting him grow accustomed to the size and the stretch before you began to rock your hips.

And gods, the sounds that emerged from him then. Gone was the composure and dignity of a nobleman. Muzan was a slave to the pleasure you bestowed upon him, gasping, moaning, rocking his hips down to take you even deeper. He tossed his head back against the pillow, long, black hair flowing like tendrils, eyes half-lidded one moment, then wide with ecstasy the next.

“There… there, don’t stop that,” he gasped. “Fu-ck… gods… I’ll cum…”

Tears of pre-cum dribbled from the tip of his cock, pooling on the rim of his foreskin.

“Stroke your cock for me,” you told him. “I want you completely ruined.”

His teeth pressed to the plush of his lower lip as he obeyed your command. Slender hands wrapped around the length of his cock, stroking himself as you fucked him deeper. You ground your hips against his ass, drawing a whine from him as you hit the sweet spot inside of him he couldn’t get enough of.

His pretty face was dusted with scarlet, his skin glistening with perspiration as he veins on his brow throbbed. Teeth bared, eyes wild with desire. With every thrust of your hips he let out a breathy “Ah! Ah! Ah!”

And when you fucked him harder, his gasps turned to whines. He whimpered as your hips slapped against his ass, your bodies both slick from exertion, but neither of you willing for it to end.

The sounds emerging from him were divine, so lewd and ruined they tightened the coil at your core and made your chest ache. He was so receptive, so licentious, little more than a desperate slut fucking himself on your cock as he furiously stroked his.

“Come for me, Muzan. Let me see you.”

Ever obedient, his cock erupted, strings of pearls spurting over his belly as he bore down on the strap, hissing curses and prayers in the same breath. “Nghhh fuck fuck fuck thank you. Thank you Gods in fucking heaven oh fuck, curse you. Thank you.”

Your chest heaved in time with his, as calm settled around you both like a blanket of purifying snow. He held on to his cock as it grew limp in his fist, his throat bobbing and pulsing as sweat beaded from him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling. “Consider your levy paid.”

“Thank you, my lord. But there’s no need. Call that a gratuity, I’m far from finished with you.”

A/N: I tried to research this as best as I could. As far as I can tell there are no records of strap-ons from Heian era Japan but, y'know... Muzan is a go-getter. Also in terms of materials, I went off of what sculptures of that time were mostly made of and what was commonly available, which was lacquered wood. Also the lube is a jelly made from seaweed. I don't think any of these things are recommended to go in your ass. Don't put them there.

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