sukuna vs your pregnancy cravings (suggestive themes ahead)
“psst…kuna..wake up!” you hissed at your snoring husband. it was currently 1:34am and you should’ve definitely been asleep but your pregnancy cravings refused to let you rest until they were satiated.
when sukuna goes to sleep, he’s out like a light and as good as dead. so you had to shake him for a good few minutes before he started showing signs of stirring awake.
“mmh– what..?” he grumbles still very much half-asleep.
“i’m hungryyy!”
“s’way too fucking early. n can’t be healthy eating at this time. js’ go back to sleep.” he murmurs while pulling you closer and splaying a protective hand over your round belly thinking that would be the end of it.
but now? it’s quiet — too quiet. and you’re not melting into his embrace like you normally do. the silence breaks when soft sniffles and hitched breathing could be heard as you pull away from his hold.
“woman..what bothers you now?” sukuna treads lightly so to not set you off further when you’re already clearly upset. he would never tell you this but your mood swings genuinely terrify him (also turn him on when you’re mad at him).
“so do you just want me and your baby to starve to death?!” you shriek at him with glossy eyes.
“WHAT?! when the hell did i say–”
“be honest, do you think i’m fat and ugly now? i-is that what it is? do you h–hate me now?” you cut him off and wipe away the helpless tears now streaming down your face.
“fuck no. to all of that. y’look so fucking sexy like this. want me to prove it? could stuff you full a different way~” sukuna’s large hands squeeze your tits to which you quickly slap away. not that it didn’t feel good, but you had a craving to attend to first.
“eww, no! actually– maybe later. right now i’m having a food craving..”
dear god. you just recently started having more cravings and every single one of them have been clinically insane. for example, you recently used his card to buy a chamoy pickle set from tiktok shop because according to your own words, ‘the baby demanded so’.
in all of sukuna’s years on this earth, that may have been the first ever original sentence he’s heard. and he’s heard a lot.
“well, what is it?”
“okay, so i was scrolling on tiktok an hour ago because your snoring woke me up and i couldn’t fall back asleep–”
“i do not snore.” he quickly chimes in to defend himself.
“DO NOT INTERRUPT ME RYOMEN! anyways where was i…oh yeah! so there were loads of ramen mukbangs on my for you page and then i saw this other pregnant lady making her baby’s cravings into sandwiches and then i thought…i have to try that. along with the ramen. yeah, that’s it. end of my rant!”
to the average person, that may seem like enough. but sukuna is anything but average with his massive appetite that he’s also passed onto you. “right…so what else is inside the sandwich? can’t have you and baby ‘starving to death’ now, can we?”
“oops, silly me! that completely slipped my mind! umm, how about we use toasted focaccia bread, garlic butter and melted cheese on each slice. then the fillings can be…ramen, of course, extra creamy and cheesy! y’know how i like it~” you winked at him and could’ve sworn you noticed a tinge of pink in his ears before continuing,
“some guacamole, pickles, grilled halloumi, ooo some honey to go with that too! steak frites, pesto n some crispy fries. that should do it.” you smile beamingly at sukuna, so brightly that no one would even notice suspect that you were crying just a few minutes ago.
“our brat’s a fucking genius. we have everything at home so i’ll get started in the kitchen n order some wingstop since your meal’s light.”
“yay! i’ll keep you company!” you exclaim before swinging your legs over and slowly but surely waddling behind your husband into the kitchen.
thirty minutes later, you’re sat on the kitchen stool watching him cook with natural precision whilst snacking away on cheese for the ramen. honestly, it’s kinda hot how he can multitask different roles so easily — but he doesn’t need to know that and have his ego more inflated than it already is.
“hm, close your eyes f’me.” sukuna snaps you out of your daydreaming.
“huh- whyy?”
“just do it.”
“fine.” you huff but eventually do so and hear the sound of a plate settling in front of you.
“now open.” you open your eyes and gasp in awe, there was your sandwich exactly how you envisioned it. “ohmygod!! kuna this looks so good!!!” he smirks proudly at your excitement.
“go on, tell me what you think.” you take a massive bite and moan instantly, “i think i need some alone time with this. mmph– told you the ramen would work well.”
“never even doubted you, but whatever.” sukuna rolls his eyes but adds onto your state of pure bliss by massaging your shoulders making you let out a deep sigh in relief.
“i could die peacefully right now.”
“don’t say shit like that.” he scowls and your smile grows even further. aww, what a secret softie~
a few minutes later, the doorbell rings to which sukuna mumbles a brief “i’ll get it.” before returning with your wingstop — except it looks like he ordered one of everything from the menu.
“i know i said was hungry but this is way too much…”
“relax woman, ordered some for myself.” of course he did. your husband has always been a massive foodie and could easily devour the whole menu in minutes — reminding you of the food challenges you sometimes put him up to at restaurants to win extra money. and of course he wins every single time.
“oh? what happened to it being unhealthy to eat so late?” you giggle at using his own words against him.
“tch, might as well join you if yr’ so adamant on eating at this time.” he opens up the food from the box and gives your fair share, too lazy to get out plates and clean up more for no reason.
you spend the next hour or so talking about anything that comes to your mind. sukuna being his greedy self finished his meal in ten minutes and when the whole menu wasn’t enough, he began eyeing up your food instead of listening to you!
you still wanted to savour the rest of yours for later on the day, so you told sukuna to go back to bed whilst you hid your meal away in the fridge. he already knew what you were up to and could easily find your food but he knows better than to mess with you.
there’s been countless of times during your pregnancy where sukuna has made the grave mistake of eating your food that you were saving for later. all of which have resulted in you crying and giving him the silent treatment for hours (sometimes days) on end.
sukuna cleans up your plate before waiting for you in the bedroom. and god, you just want to jump at his bones for how good he looks despite waking up at 1am — but that can wait for later. instead you join him in bed as he spoons you and lifts your belly since learning about the relief it brings for you and the baby.
“thank you kuna, for doing all of this, always being there for me and your baby. i know you’re still learning, but i’m really proud of you.” you slowly turn over to face him when he doesn’t reply, knowing that he’s most likely overthinking again. “what’s up?”
“d’you think i’ll be a good dad? no matter what i js’ feel unprepared..” he mumbles into your shoulder, eyes shut and eyebrows furrowed.
“i know you will, you know why?” he looks up at you, ruby eyes softening as he awaits your response.
“because i’ve seen how you were with other kids like yuji at the start of our relationship and even now, how much growing respect he has for you each day that passes. and we have each other for support, i’m scared too but i feel better knowing that i’m learning every step with you.” you earnestly smile at him.
“damn, that was kinda poetic.” a small smirk shows up on his face.
“heh– what can i say?” you tease back, falling into a comforting silence after that with sukuna rubbing your belly.
“sleep well, brats.” he murmurs to both you and the baby.
“heard that.” you mutter on the brink of sleep.
“good. you were meant to.”
“shut up. and don’t think i forgot about what you said earlier, about proving a certain something? we’re coming back to that in the morning~”
well fuck.
notes: first time writing for sukuna hope i did him justice 🙂↔️ i love how domestic i wrote him 🥹 um should i write part 2 lmk…
《For this reading, I used a special zero-contact oracle deck that I created myself, channeling the messages, in addition to tarot.
I hope this resonates with your situation and brings you clarity.
Thank you for reading.》
🔮 Option 1.
You know each other deeply; you need to balance what each of you gives. There are impulses to seek you out; with you, I feel like new; I talk about you with my friends.
The Ace of Pentacles, Queen of Swords, 4 of Swords, Page of Pentacles, 7 of Swords, Page of Cups, 6 of Pentacles, and 2 of Swords.
In this situation, I feel that someone here offered something to the other person, but somehow, it wasn’t what was expected. I also feel that in some way you are turning your back on that offer your partner made to you, or perhaps this person has turned their back on you. You can’t stop thinking about what you did wrong, or, Why did you act this way? Or if it was he or she who behaved so badly, you might be the one asking yourself this. Adapt it to your situation. Some of you are wondering, Why did you tell me all that if it wasn’t true? I feel that you’re the one who feels this way. I see there was a very intense exchange of words, or for others, I feel that words were lacking because this person ghosted you or you blocked them. This person wants to come looking for you, but hasn’t made the decision yet. Some of you can’t stop focusing on the why of things how they happened that way and it’s like you want to move on, but somehow, you still can’t let it go. I also sense that there may have been a betrayal involved. Maybe there were disagreements, or it’s as if they took something from you or at least that’s how you feel. On the outside, this person feels very proud, because they swear they got away with it and that they won in some way, but the truth is that they’re trapped in a cycle of regret, because they know it was their fault, they know they hurt you, and that they just ran away. At first glance, it might seem like nothing affects them, but they’re actually sad about your absence. I see that they’ll start reaching out to you, acting like they’re not up to anything—in a more relaxed, chill way—sort of like testing the waters. They’ll probably talk to you casually, like it’s no big deal, sending you a meme or asking about someone else—obviously not directly, because they’re afraid of your reaction. They’ll bring some kind of gift; you might see them in person, and they might visit you at home or work. I also see an informal invitation or something along the lines of a get-together with.
🔮 Option 2:
Past-life connection, emotional imbalance, masks, I hope you come back to me, this connection is divinely protected and bound by destiny.
For some of you, this connection felt almost magical; perhaps you felt that the universe brought that person to you, as if you were part of each other. I sense that you are afraid, or that one of you is afraid of how the other person might react. It could also be that you’re afraid of losing them or something like that. I feel a lot of sadness. I sense that this separation weighs heavily on them. I sense a heaviness in the heart chakra and something trapped or heavy in the throat chakra. This person holds onto both good and bad emotions and tries to suppress them. Someone in this dynamic gave too much and expected the other person to give the same in return, but that wasn’t the case. I sense that your special someone is trying to avoid giving explanations; they also pretend to be fine on the outside—they seem perfect and unflappable, but the opposite is true; obviously, they don’t want you to know. This person is hurting because of the distance and wants you to come back to them. This situation could stem from past lives, where you came to learn and love one another, but certain obstacles prevented that from happening. Don’t worry, this connection is divinely protected and will be resolved in due time, for example, when both of you work on yourselves. For now, it’s time to focus on yourself and on growing. I also sense that this person reminds you a lot of yourself. Your special someone is going through a difficult time where they’ve finally realized what they had with you and what they lost. Your special someone knows and recognizes the relationship and how special it was, but I sense they didn’t know how to appreciate it. I also see that they’re struggling to let go and move on. I sense energy from water signs: Scorpio, Cancer, and Pisces; very strong Scorpio. Take this as it resonates with you. Now I sense that they’ve tried to connect with other people, maybe they have some prospects or someone interested but I see that your special person isn’t very convinced. I sense that they don’t really care; they feel apathetic and compare you to these new people all the time. They tell themselves over and over that it’s not the same.
🔮 Option 3
A pragmatic person, reconciliation on the horizon, masks, I promise to give you everything you deserve, this connection will reach a deep level, I’m ready to be honest, each of us has to do some inner work for the reconnection, I see you from a distance.
It may be that your special someone is adopting or has a dramatic personality. Or it may be that they have very pronounced personality traits, or perhaps they are very stubborn, or find it hard to believe in things—they are more of an actions speak louder than words type. This person pretends to be someone else around others, or perhaps they like to pretend that everything is fine. I also see that they’re watching you from a distance. I’m told that reconciliation is on the way for those who want to get back together, but first you must work on yourselves so that the reconnection can happen. If you decide to restore the connection, it will move to a deeper level. I also see that you’ll give this connection the importance it deserves.I see that they’re feeling anxious at night; or they’re afraid of not getting you back, because I sense an energy of doing impulsive things, nervousness, or agitation, I feel a very abrupt energy. Perhaps like: “Hurry up, we have to do this now, hurry up” like anxious or nervous energy. Your special someone thinks that now they’re finally going to tell you the truth and what they feel and what you mean to them. I do see that they want to offer you something, such as making a commitment, but before someone else does; this is being shown through this “hurry up” energy. The tarot cards that came up, I just feel like they’re confirming the oracle’s message.
Nine of Cups, The Moon, Six of Pentacles, Two of Pentacles, The Sun, Two of Wands, and the Knight of Pentacles.
I see that this person dreams of you and might be going through a lot of confusion in their life right now. Things aren’t going very well for them, because this is influencing them too much; I feel like they’re kind of holding themselves back or sabotaging themselves. And it’s as if they can’t seize the opportunities that come their way, because I sense they’re constantly thinking about what happened between you two. I see that they want to come back, with a serious commitment, but I see that they don’t know how—they don’t know how you’re going to react. I see that they plan to return, but this might be taking longer than expected.
♡ Thank you so much for reading.
If this reading resonated with you, don't forget to like, reblog, and share. Your support helps this blog reach more people and allows me to continue creating free readings for the community.☆
● Personal readings are currently open via DM.●
If you'd like to support my work, you can also leave a tip through my Ko-fi.
Thank you for being here, and I'll see you in the next reading. ♡
First of all, thank you so much for supporting my blog. It truly means a lot to me. ♡♡♡ I decided to make this little game both because I love interacting with you all.
I'm opening a small tarot + music game
To participate:
♡ Follow me♡ Reblog this post ♡ Reblog one of my PACs
Then send me:
✧ Your initials
✧ Choose one topic:
🌙 1 = Love
🔮 2 = Spiritual Path
💌 3 = Someone's Thoughts About You
🦋 4 = Future Energy
I will pull:
♡ One tarot card
♡ One song
♡ A short channeled message
Only 15 spots available.
Once all spots are taken, the game will be closed.
Please be patient while I answer everyone.✨
Thank you again for all your support and for helping this little blog grow. ✨🖤
after carrying your son around in your stomach for 9 months, and pushing through 8 hours of intense labour, you are now staring down at your beautiful baby boy with tired eyes.
he is beautiful, but he looks exactly like his father.
you huff. "he looks exactly like you"
"don't sound too excited" sukuna jokes, smoothing over yujis scarce pink hair.
you inspect the baby further, peering at his pink hair, the exact same shade as his daddy's, as well as the same skin tone and his little mouth laying perfectly flat along his face while he sleeps. your eyes follow his chubby arms and fingers and belly, baby fat almost promising that he will get as big and strong as his dad.
then you look up to his father, kuna's face resting in the same serious line while you watch him watching yuji. you reach up and cup sukuna's cheek. when his gaze meets yours you take in the details of his pretty eyes, his tattoos, and his markings below his eyes.
you snap your head back to yuji.
"kuna he even has your little markings" you whine, "he looks nothing like me... i pushed out your fatass baby and carried him for 9 months the least he could do is look a little like me.." you continued on.
sukuna holds back a laugh and smooths over your hair, "the next one will look exactly like you.. maybe a pretty little girl."
you grumble a little more but inevitably settle down and lay back onto the pillow. with yuji in your arms, and sukuna leaning over you both, carressing yujis face, you all sit there for a while.
yuji babbles a little in his sleep and cracks a little smile. "he must be dreaming" you softly mumble with a smile.
sukuna looks back and forth between you too. "he has your smile"
if you weren't so tired, you would've jumped for joy. "really?" you tuck yourself against sukunas chest, nuzzling him slightly.
pairing: god!sukuna x priestess!reader (+ a hint of god!gojo x reader)
summary: greek myth au. being sukuna's priestess is all you've known, and you've spent a lifetime alone in his temple, devoting yourself solely to him and his needs.
when a different god appears at your door one day with promises of more than a life in the darkness, both you and sukuna find yourselves in uncharted territory
word count: 10.7k
content: 18+ mdni, greek myth au, smut, dubcon/noncon elements due to power imbalance, loneliness, rejection, devotion, abuse, worship, violence, mean!sukuna, piv, attempted cucking, fingering, biting, rough sex, hurt/comfort, sukuna is bad with feelings and satoru is a little shit
a/n: in honour of this blog's one year anniversary I wanted to pay homage to one of the first fics I wrote on here: this blindness I'm condemned to! so here's another god!sukuna fic with a florence and the machine title hehe
also i want to give a big shoutout to @liahcharms for reigniting my passion for myth fics with all her brilliant works! please go and read everything she's written asap
Sukuna always smelt of blood, drenched in that metallic scent that would infest your nostrils, sticking around long after he’d departed your side. He’d always appear in the dead of night, whenever the temple would fall silent, looking more like a beast than a god. He’d take up the whole doorway with his mighty stature, four arms hanging loose at his side, his twisted face laden with mania.
It was you that he’d come to see - his sweet, devoted priestess. He’d waste no time with niceties, for you both knew what it was that he wanted, appearing before you to ensure that you honored your oath of service in whichever manner he deemed appropriate.
Things always played out the same way, with his crimson soaked hands wrapped firmly around your slender neck, sharp fingernails drawing blood while his fingers left pretty little bruises against your skin. He’d grunt as he bent you over his altar, guttural sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as he pressed his mouth against your ear.
You’d sob and shake beneath him, hands raking desperately against the marble beneath you, tears dripping down your cheeks as you let him sink deeper into you than you’d ever allowed any man to go.
He’d give you a taste of divinity, of real purpose. He was your god and you served him well, offering yourself fully for his own pleasure and entertainment, and he ate it up every time, filling you up with his seed and leaving you there once he was satisfied, with no regard for your own gratification.
And there you’d remain in the oppressive silence, shivering at the foot of your shrine to him, awaiting his next visit with rapt enthusiasm. That was your role in this world, your only genuine purpose - you were to give yourself to him and in the times between you were to yearn for his return.
You were to tend to his temple, greet his worshippers, and provide him with offerings. You were to sleep on the cold marble every night just in case he required your services, you were to have no family, lay with no man, for you were his in every sense of the word.
Even if he would never be yours.
Maintaining your oath had never caused you much trouble, for it was the only life you’d grown to know. You had been raised to be a priestess, had tended to the temple since you were eighteen - Sukuna, and your devotion to him, was the only thing that existed in your narrow worldview.
That was how it was supposed to always be.
Until one morning a different deity appeared at your door.
It was a pleasant spring day, and the forest beyond the temple’s walls was brushed with rays of gold, so filled with life in stark contrast to the confines of your shrine. It was always cold in there, tainted with the vague scent of blood and death that followed Sukuna wherever he went.
Even though you had never seen another of his temples, nor met another of his priestesses, you were certain that the uneasy darkness lingered in any place where he was worshipped.
And yet, that darkness, which usually extended to your patch of woodland, seemed woefully absent on that temperate morning. On the contrary, the forest seemed more alive than you’d ever seen it, teeming with colour and life - a beauty that felt utterly foreign to your eyes.
The cause of the change appeared without warning, manifesting between the trees, blue eyes alight with mischief as he strolled towards your humble temple. He had an otherworldly glow about him, a power akin to that of your own god, but rather different in nature. The air around him felt light and airy, like his mere presence could strip away any sense of despair.
You didn’t know him. You didn’t know any god but your own. You weren’t supposed to.
Nervously, you’d flinched back, stepping over the threshold back into your temple, peering past the open doors at the figure who came to a halt on your doorstep, a pleasant smile lighting up his handsome face.
“Good morning,” he hummed, his tone chipper. “I hadn’t expected to find any humans out here - especially not a beautiful woman.”
“Are- are you here to make an offering?” You asked, struggling to find your voice. You’d found yourself captivated by his ethereal beauty, your eyes skimming over his toned body and the beautiful white toga that adorned it. There was nothing monstrous about him like your own master, he was gorgeous in the most conventional of ways.
“An offering? To him?” The god snorted as he gestured to the carvings littering the outer walls of the temple. “Absoultely not.”
Fear fluttered in your heart as you took yet another step back into the comfortable darkness of your home. It felt like Sukuna was draping himself over you, keeping you safe from the stranger before you. For him to so casually put down your god was the gravest insult in this setting, and you wondered if Sukuna might strike him down where he stood.
Perhaps he’d strike you down too, for even allowing yourself to bear witness to such heresy.
“I don’t think you should be here.” You tried to sound as confident as you could, to turn this god away before he could cause any issue. You didn’t want any trouble, didn’t want to find yourself breaking any of Sukuna’s rules.
“You don’t need to sound so afraid, I mean you no harm.” He took another step forward, his toes brushing against the threshold, peering into the darkness at you. “Come and step into the light, so that we can talk properly.”
Even though you knew it was wrong, you found your legs obeying his command. There was something about the way that he spoke which commanded the same authority that Sukuna did, filling you with a terrifying desire to do as you were told no matter what your brain truly wanted. This god didn’t wield his authority with the darkness that your own master did, but the underlying implication was still there.
He would have what he wished, and would employ any method to get it.
Your legs carried you back outside, eyes wide as you observed the man before you. His blue eyes dragged over your form and you caught the way that they seemed to light up with glee. “You’re a gorgeous creature, aren’t you? Typical of Sukuna to keep such secrets to himself. What do you call yourself?”
You told him meekly, averting your gaze down to the floor. Now that you were standing before him you found your heart racing unfathomably quick, oddly taken by his immense beauty. You’d allowed your mind to wander, to wonder what it would be like to have his delicate hands hold you.
It was a thought that you were quick to chase away, for fear that Sukuna could hear every one of your deepest desires and punish you for the slightest deviation away from him.
“How lovely. You can call me Satoru.” The name meant nothing to you. You’d been raised largely in isolation, taught by your parents your role at the temple and abandoned to silence at eighteen. If Satoru was some well-known god, it meant nothing to you.
He didn’t seem offended by your lack of knowledge. Perhaps he’d expected it.
“Are you out here all alone?”
You were, the people in the closest town would bring supplies to you once a fortnight, and beyond that you were left purely to your own devices. It probably wasn’t wise to tell a strange man such a thing, but you got the sense that he’d know if you were lying.
“I am.”
“Oh, how I abhor the cruelty of your master, always keeping his poor worshippers in the worst of conditions. If you were my priestess you’d get to live in the most lavish quarters in some lovely city, surrounded by like-minded folk. No woman should have to linger alone in some dark forest.”
“It suits me here,” you whispered. “I’ve always been here.”
Satoru scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Then you simply don’t know any better than what your master has taught you.”
You were certain that you didn’t need to know. With Sukuna the rules for your life were clear, what more could there be? It was an honor to serve him in the way that you did, it was what you were made for. You didn't need pity from some stranger.
“Look at you, all confused by my words.” A hand reached out for you, your body shaking as a finger tapped the centre of your furrowed brow before withdrawing. “You can’t even begin to comprehend the unfairness of your life.”
“It's not unfair,” you bit back, quietly. You mostly believed your words, but you’d be lying if you were wholly satisfied. You had no qualms about living in this place, or about serving your lord, but in the times between Sukuna’s visits you were hollow, desperate for him, caught up in wondering what he was doing, wondering how many other priestesses he treated just like you.
You wanted him to be yours just as you were his, wanted his devotion to you.
An impossible ask.
“It is, but you can’t allow yourself to see it,” he said with a sigh, fingers dragging through his soft white hair. “You’re a great prize of his, you know. One of his favourites. He always likes to brag about your beauty but never wishes to share - he isn’t a man who likes others playing with what belongs to him, even when he has so much.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, not sure what to make of that. You wanted to be flattered but your joy was unraveled by the use of the phrase ‘one of his favourites’. For now he treasured you, saw you as something valuable amongst all he had. One day you’d slide down that list, once your looks started to fail you.
“I’m here because I had to gaze upon the one that even a monster would desire so deeply.” Your eyes widened in surprise, studying the look on his face. You could sense no trace of dishonesty, his expression open and welcoming, his thoughts written across his face.
The complete opposite to Sukuna’s perpetually guarded frown.
“You were certainly worth the journey,” he continued, when you offered him nothing but silence. You should’ve told him to stop when he reached for you once more, but you remained frozen, completely dumbfounded as his hand traced along your soft cheek. It was a caress gentler than any that Sukuna had given you.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, terrified of what the consequences for his actions would be. You were surprised to find that you didn’t want him to stop, your heart battering against your ribcage at being shown such careful attention for once in your lonely life.
It was a dangerous feeling.
“I would provide you so much more than he ever could,” he whispered, leaning forward. “I’d give you a place in the light, a place at my side. Beauty like yours doesn’t deserve to be hidden away, it should be celebrated.”
Your breath hitched as he closed the gap between you. His nose brushed against yours, lips inching closer, and for a second you almost gave in, almost allowed temptation to win out over the oath that you’d bound yourself to. But you had lived a life of discipline, and when you pushed him back with all of your strength, it was your body acting on instinct.
Kissing him wasn’t right. It would be a betrayal of everything that you lived for. Besides, your parents had warned you about schemes of other gods, warning that if you were to ever encounter one, you would find that they took great enjoyment in playing with humans.
That was what this was. This man didn’t know you, didn’t care for you. You could feel the dislike for your master rolling off him in waves. He was here to humiliate his opponent, to claim something of his.
You would be no pawn in his game.
“I wish for you to leave,” you said as firmly as you could, your heart still fluttering in your chest. “My master would not want you here."
There was a flicker of hurt in Satoru’s eyes, but he dropped his hands to his sides all the same, stepping back with a somber nod. “He wouldn’t, you’re right. But you should not wish to be here either, for you deserve more than the darkness he shrouds you in.”
“It- it is what I have chosen.”
“It is what has been forced upon you,” he countered, offering you a sad smile. “But when you one day choose to free yourself of it, I will be waiting.”
And just like that, Satoru disappeared, taking the brilliant light of the morning away with him. For some reason you felt cold, an empty emotion not unlike that which would plague you whenever Sukuna would leave you broken and naked on the temple floor. It had been nice to talk to someone, nice to feel the sun on your skin.
Even if it was all just trickery from some malicious man hellbent on separating you from your duty.
It was a week after that encounter that Sukuna darkened your door again, in the manner he always would.
Your encounter went much as usual, speaking no words of greeting as he approached, his hands tearing at your clothes, fingers holding you with a bruising grip as he took you beneath him. He was as rough as ever and you enjoyed it all the same, soft whimpers echoing around the temple as you chanted his name like a prayer.
But when he was done, he didn’t leave in silence as he usually would. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height, towering over your frail body which he’d discarded so carelessly on the cold floor. His red eyes were fixed on you with an unusual intensity, two of his hands resting on his hips while the other two crossed firmly over his chest.
“You had a visitor this week. Didn’t you?” The question came out as a deep rumble, sending fear coursing through your vulnerable form.
“Yes.” You kept your eyes down. You weren’t supposed to look up at him without his permission, he was too divine for your eyes to gaze upon openly.
“And what did you think of him, this visitor?”
You weren’t quite sure what to say. If you were to tell him the truth, to suggest that you found Satoru captivating in any way, you feared the punishment that may follow. On the other hand, if you tried lying only for him to realise that you were attempting to deceive him, that could land you in even deeper trouble.
The last thing you wanted was to disappoint him.
“He was…strange. He was like you but not.” You chose your words carefully, omitting your feelings on the matter.
Sukuna let out an amused huff. “There is no one like me, little priestess. But to your untrained eye I can understand what you’re trying to say - he held a power beyond your comprehension, and by extension you find us to be similar.”
Disagreeing with him would be foolish so you simply nodded in agreement, your gaze still trained upon the ground, even as you heard him shifting before you. He crouched, one of his lower hands pressing against your chin and raising your face to look at him.
“What of your opinion on him? Did you enjoy his visit? Do you yearn for him to return with all his foolish light and greenery?”
“No.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, before you had the chance to truly consider your answer.
He blinked, a slow grin spreading across his tanned face, his canines pointed and sharp, still dripping with blood he’d withdrawn from your neck minutes prior. “No? Such a well trained little thing,” he hummed, a hand coming down to your hair and stroking it with something akin to affection, like an owner praising their pet. “Though, I thought you’d know better than to lie to me.”
The grip in your hair tightened, strands pulling at your scalp. A soft yelp left your lips, eyes welling with tears, your gaze still fixed on him as he’d commanded.
“I can hear your heart fluttering, your blood rushing through those delicate veins of yours. I think you wish to see him again, perhaps you yearn for him to visit you in the way I do.”
You shook your head as best as you could while still confined within his firm grip. Even if you were curious about your visitor, infatuated by the light which he seemed to bathe himself in, you had no desire for his visits to be even remotely similar to Sukuna’s. The humiliation of being taken and abandoned by one god was enough, your heart would not cope with a second.
“I’m loyal to you, master. Only to you.”
There was a soft tremble to your voice, your skin prickling with fear. The look on Sukuna’s face was manic, like it always was when he’d fuck you, or when he’d dump a corpse on the temple’s doorstep. There was an electricity to him that told you he had little tolerance where Satoru was concerned, and as his hand twisted in your hair, you felt certain he’d tear your head from your shoulders.
“Is that so?” He asked, his booming voice echoing around the temple. For a moment, a look which seemed almost conflicted flickered in his red eyes, but it was gone before you could truly verify its existence, replaced by his usual hardened gaze.
“Yes. I take joy in nothing but serving you.”
You were starting to grow cold, the chill of the temple’s marble seeping into your exposed skin. He’d seen you in this state time and time again, but to kneel naked before him and talk was different to being fucked by him, it felt too vulnerable, building an urge within you to cover yourself from his gaze.
Fortunately, your mind stopped you from attempting to draw your arms across your breasts. You were his property and he could gaze upon you as he pleased, you had no right to obscure what had always been his.
Releasing his grip on your hair, he let you crumple down before him. He then brushed the strands tenderly over your bare shoulders, gentle enough for you to mistake it for the touch of a lover. The coolness of his tone dispelled any such illusion as he whispered in your ear.
“Make sure to remember it. Lie to me again or find comfort in that fool, and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your pathetic little life.”
And just like that, he was gone, the warmth of his breath still hot against your ear, your stomach churning with guilt beneath the weight of his bitter disappointment.
Satoru visited again the following day.
He was already waiting for you outside as you threw open the doors to the temple at dawn, leaning against a tree, skin glistening beneath the sun’s gorgeous rays. Doves were flittering around him, whistling away with some merry tune that seemed so out of place within the shadow of your temple.
Once more, you found yourself faltering, glancing back towards the safety of your temple and wondering if you should barricade yourself inside, your master’s threat hanging heavy in your mind.
But the warmth and comfort that the god before you exuded was attractive, pulling your feet towards him just like the first time, a moth to his brightly burning flame. He seemed overjoyed at the sight of your nervous figure before him, shuffling about and avoiding his gaze, jumping at every shadow in the forest behind him, as if Sukuna would emerge from the trees.
“So nervous.” Satoru commented, blue eyes skimming over your form. “You have nothing to fear from me, lovely priestess.”
“It is not you who I fear.”
“Ah, of course not.” Pushing the subject no further, the god offered you a soft smile before lowering himself down onto the grass before you, sitting cross-legged on the ground. A flicker of confusion registered within you, for service to Sukuna had taught you that he was never to be beneath you, it would always be him towering over you.
Satoru seemed to hold no such views, looking up at you easily.
“Sit with me.”
Glancing around once more, you shook your head. “I cannot. I told you before, you should not be here.”
Satoru scoffed, a playful glint in his cerulean eyes. “He doesn’t know I’m here. We’re not all-knowing, and he’s off dealing with some war right about now, his attention couldn’t be further from you.”
“He knew you were here before.” You pointed out, shuffling your bare feet awkwardly in the grass, pretending to find interest in the way your toes wrapped around the blades to avoid meeting the gaze of the being before you.
“That was my error. I had been callous in my approach here the first time, unbothered by the idea of him knowing that I’d gone to look at what was his. For that I apologise. I had not realised the way in which it would impact you.” Satoru seemed genuinely sorry for his actions, worry creasing on his otherwise perfect face.
Part of you wondered if it was an act, but you didn’t linger on the thought for too long. You hadn’t experienced kindness in a very long time, and that alone had your resolve wavering.
“Please sit. I brought you an offering.” He patted the grass beside him, and you hesitated for just a moment before doing as he asked, intrigued at the thought of a god bringing you an offering. Sukuna had never given you anything, why should he? And yet, Satoru snapped his fingers and a whole spread of food appeared on the ground before you.
It was a feast for Kings, an exorbitant amount, the likes of which you’d never witnessed in your lifetime.
Stale bread and the odd bit of cheese had become the staple of your diet over the years, that was all the people from the nearby village were willing to spare for a priestess of a war god, especially when your region had been experiencing peaceful times for as long as you’d lived.
“This is too much for you to offer me,” you said politely, trying to decline. You were concerned that indulging in wines and meats would be apparent to Sukuna on your breath, perhaps even on your body, for it might stop your skin from stretching uncomfortably over your bones like it did currently.
Satoru shook his head, beaming at you. “This is nothing. Eat. You’re such a frail little thing, he clearly doesn't feed you enough, so let me help you.”
You knew it was wrong, knew that you should turn down his offering just like Sukuna would want you to. After all, if your master believed your diet should be so limited, you were in no position to question his judgement. But your piety did little to override the desires of your body, and humiliatingly you could feel yourself starting to salivate.
He didn’t have to know. You’d eat just enough to sate your hunger and that would be that. You didn’t need to overindulge.
Hastily stuffing some grapes into your mouth, the pleased look on Satoru’s face emboldened you to continue. Even if he wasn’t the god you were supposed to serve, there was something about him that led you to desire his approval in the same way you desired Sukuna’s. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he could kill you just as easily as your own master could, if he so wished.
“That’s it,” he chirped. “Enjoy it.” You grew so preoccupied with your feast, luxuriating in a range of flavours that you’d never known, that it came as a surprise to you when a warm hand brushed your neck, long fingers trailing delicately down your nape.
You withdrew quickly, jumping like some frightened stray cat, eyes wide and worried, unsure of the god’s intentions. He remained unfettered, dropping his hand and studying you like you were a matter of greater interest than some common priestess.
“Are you sure you’re no nymph? Perhaps some forgotten daughter of another god, cast out into the fringes of our minds?” The honeyed words had your pulse racing, unsure what to make of the compliment. It felt pleasant to be praised, but he was not the man you should be seeking praise from. “You’re so fair, it makes me want to hide you away from Sukuna.”
He spat out your master’s name like a curse, something dark and unbefitting of his light and lovely voice. You said nothing, peering back at him as you remained crouched in silence. There wasn’t a chance that you’d even acknowledge such a statement, for you knew acknowledgement tended to count as consent amongst gods.
Satoru shuffled closer once more, “this mark on the back of your neck, he left it on you?” His fingers were back on your skin now, pressing down on what you assumed must be a bruise. You hadn’t kept track of the marks on your body in a long time, aware that Sukuna would often leave them in his wake. They had never really bothered you.
And yet, Satoru looked concerned.
“I suppose so,” you mumbled.
Scoffing, he shook his head. “What a barbarian.”
Again, you found yourself glancing into the darkness of the trees, despising the idea that Sukuna might potentially be listening in on the exchange, waiting for you to slip up. If he was, you wanted him to be certain that you weren’t going along with Satoru’s complaints towards him.
“He’s not…a barbarian,” you whispered. Despite Sukuna’s treatment of you, it wasn’t so easy for you to cast aside your master. You loved him, you’d always loved him, it was practically built into your body. If he wanted to use you, he was free to do so, if he wanted to kill you, that was up to him.
Satoru looked sad, carefully withdrawing his hand and dropping it into his lap. It was evident that he’d thought this conversation would go a different way. “Do you enjoy my company?” He asked.
“I do.” There was no point in being dishonest. The green, airy atmosphere that he brought along with his presence was pleasant, and the opportunity to speak aloud to someone for once in your lonely life felt freeing, even if you knew it to be wrong. But that was where your rule-breaking would stop. You could dip your toes in the pools of possibility, but there were lines you would never cross.
“I was here last night, you know.” He spoke.
A chill ran through you at his words.
“Is that how your visits from him always play out? Letting him have his way with you without so much as a hello? Receiving everything he could possibly want and then leaving you cold and shivering on the floor, praying for a sliver of his affection?”
You wondered if Sukuna had known that Satoru was watching, if he’d revelled in the idea of an audience. Perhaps he simply didn’t care at all, why should it bother him if there was someone watching him lay claim to what was his?
“That’s my role,” you said mechanically, upon the realisation that Satoru was waiting for an answer.
“And again I must ask, you’re happy with that role?”
“Yes.”
“Happy for him to leave you in solitude? To take you with such violence and then berate you for talking to another, all while he’s free to do as he pleases?”
“Yes.” You lied, more than happy to pretend that you didn’t spend your nights dreaming of more, fantasising about a life in which you could stay in Sukuna’s embrace, rather than wrapped in the cool emptiness of his temple.
“And when you grow older? When your looks start to fail you and he ceases his visits, how do you think you'll feel about your role then?”
The anxiety gripped your heart like a vice. The thought of Sukuna discarding you entirely was something you’d often considered, seeping into the cracks of your mind on your loneliest nights. There was nothing you could do to stop it, for time would march on and you would age, and he would find some new beautiful priestess to have as his favourite.
“You’ll miss him.” Satoru said, answering the question for you. “You’ll lament and suffer and wish that he’d given you something to keep. You’ll realise that all your faith and devotion meant nothing to him, while he meant everything to you.”
Tears began to stream down your cheeks before you could stop them, and you found yourself recoiling away from Satoru, feeling suddenly cold.
“There will be no worth to your life, no honor given to you for your devotion and service. He’ll discard you, just as he discards everything that no longer qualifies as interesting to him. If your loneliness is strong now, it is nothing to what it will be when he’s gone for good, fascinated wholly with another while you wither into obscurity.”
A whimper escaped you, tears dripping onto the grass below as the god before you laid out the future that you’d never wished to consider. Perhaps he was the god of prophecy, witnessing your fate even before it could play out, but he didn’t need to be for your path to stand clear - it had always been obvious to you that things could only end one way.
Sukuna would cast you out, and that would be that.
“I don’t- I can’t-”
“Shhh.” Satoru moved closer, curling around you in a gentle embrace. “Not all is lost.”
Shoulders shaking, you let him hold you, overwhelmed by such a lovely show of warmth and affection that you’d lacked your whole life. He was cooing quietly, stroking your hair with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. It was like he’d ripped your broken heart from your chest just so he could prove to you that it was in pieces, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that.
You shouldn’t have huddled up against him, shouldn’t have allowed his comfort, but what was a mere human supposed to do? Whether you obeyed Sukuna or not, the outcome of him casting you aside one day wouldn’t change.
At least for now, if you disobeyed him, you could experience comfort for once.
The two of you stayed there for a long time, long enough that by the time Satoru was pulling away, you felt like you’d almost melded into his slender form. “I can make you my priestess, I can make you my world. Beauty like yours is rare, and would never cast it aside like he does, not in old age. I would leave you not in solitude, but keep you in the warmth of my arms for eternity if you’d allow me.”
“I can’t, I’m his, I want to be his, I-”
“He’ll never be yours.” His blue eyes were sparkling as he regarded you with a serious look, one filled with desire. “But I can be. I have gazed upon you for longer than I should admit, have stalked about in these woods and watched Sukuna mishandle beauty that deserves more. Let me give you more.”
Your stomach was churning with anxiety, not sure what to do. Your mind and heart were screaming away about your loyalty to the only master you’d ever known, to the god that you loved, reminding you of the consequences for even hearing Satoru’s offer to completion.
But there was no denying the desire in your body.
You felt warm for the first time in eternity, and you didn’t want the softness of Satoru’s touch to leave you. If you couldn’t be held by the one you loved, then it was better to be held by another than abandoned to loneliness when Sukuna grew tired of you.
Satoru’s fingers were grazing your cheeks with the utmost care, so gentle compared to your master’s rough hands. You mewled softly under his touch, pathetic in the way you leaned up against him, letting him pet you affectionately like you were some treasured cat.
You’d never had much of your own autonomy, always reliant on gods to tell you what you needed to be. You supposed whether that god was Sukuna or Satoru made no real difference. But if one’s light would stay, allowing you to bask in its warmth for a time, that was preferable to one who would leave you to starve in the dark.
As Satoru pulled you up from the floor, you allowed yourself to be cradled within his strong arms, too distraught over the matter of your master to register the peril involved as the god crossed the threshold into the temple, a domain where he was surely not welcome.
Seemingly unphased, he took a seat on one of the marble benches just before the altar, holding you carefully in his lap and drying away the last of your tears. “There, there,” he soothed. “Let me look after you.”
Allowing yourself to melt into his arms, you did nothing to prevent the slow brush of his pink lips against yours, mouth parting for his tongue as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You supposed that in a way, it was, Sukuna had taught you nothing but obedience, so with Satoru’s grip so firm and welcoming, what were you supposed to do if not obey?
Satoru’s lips tasted surprisingly sweet, the faintest taste of cherry lingering upon them. One of hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth in a manner that was more curious than domineering. Your fingers gripped at the fabric of his clothes, anchoring yourself to him, like you might lose yourself in his kiss.
There was no attempt made to prevent his other hand from wandering to the shoulders of your dress, slipping the loose fabric down your arms and allowing it to pool at your waist. Your nipples were perked, whether from arousal or the cool air of the temple, you weren’t quite sure; any thoughts on the matter fled your mind as Satoru broke the kiss and hoisted you up a little, letting his lips find one of your nipples, his tongue flicking against it before taking that sensitive bud into his mouth.
It pulled a pathetic little whine from you as you clung desperately to his shoulders. This wasn’t something that Sukuna had ever done. His focus had never been on your pleasure, but on meeting his own needs - to experience such devoted touch felt strange, but not unpleasant by any means.
One of Satoru’s hands moved up your leg, pushing beneath the remaining fabric of your dress and finding itself in the space between your thighs. His long fingers navigated carefully over your pussy, with a gentleness that your master had never possessed, moving slick through your folds and circling a spot which had you whimpering.
For a few minutes, you were lost in it all. You were off somewhere else in your mind, in some lovely field that befitted Satoru’s pleasant atmosphere, where the two of you could lay beneath the sun and make love amongst the flowers for all eternity.
It was an illusion that shattered quickly.
Satoru was just in the process of repositioning you. He’d discarded your white dress entirely, carrying you over to the altar and lifting you to sit atop something that you’d previously only ever been bent over. He’d spread your legs and knelt down before you, peering up from his place beneath you with an expression laden with desire.
His breath had fanned over your exposed core, your body trembling at his proximity, in desperate anticipation of what it might feel like to have his tongue pressed up against you.
But the moment he leaned in to give you what you’d been awaiting with bated breath, a large hand found its way into your hair and dragged you violently to the ground. You yelped desperately, struggling beneath an unwavering grip, your shoulder aching where it had bashed against the marble.
“Stay still.” The voice was cold and bone-chillingly familiar.
Sukuna wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were fixed evenly on Satoru, who was carefully picking himself up off the floor. His neck and chest was stained with a gold liquid, flowing from a cut which was swiftly closing itself up on his pale neck.
Blinking, panic began to rise up in your chest. You wanted to fidget, to beg Sukuna for mercy and forgiveness, but such an action would be foolish, so you stayed deathly still in his grip, a rabbit accepting its fate within the jaws of a wolf.
“I suppose you find this amusing, an attempt to defile what’s mine within my own temple. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” Sukuna’s voice was calm, with a dangerous edge to it. He was addressing Satoru alone, still not bothering to spare a glance at you.
Satoru shrugged, an impish grin spreading across his face. “I thought you were busy.”
Sukuna scoffed. “If I broke into one of your frivolous brothels that you refer to as temples, you’d know the second I took a step over the threshold. So what was this? An attempt to upset me?”
“Why would you be upset?” Satoru asked, pleasantly.
“You know I don’t like to share,” he said, his grip on you tightening.
“You have any number of lovely priestesses, where’s the harm in letting me have one?” Sukuna’s red eyes flickered with annoyance, and for the first time he looked at you, a mix of fury and disappointment present on his terrifyingly beautiful face.
“And you. How dare you?” He asked, dismissing Satoru’s question entirely, his full attention fixed on your quivering form. “Speak.” He barked when you failed to answer swiftly.
“He- I- I’m sorry-”
There was no explanation for your lack of loyalty, nothing beyond admitting that you were afraid to be alone, that you loved Sukuna so deeply that you could no longer bear the nature of your relationship. But telling him that would make him just as angry as telling him nothing.
You weren’t supposed to want anything. You were nothing more than a servant to him with no will of her own.
You yelped as he slapped you hard across the face, ears ringing at the force of the blow. “I should kill you for this, rip you apart for offering yourself to another. To receive what I give you is an honour, and you’re too much of a whore to be thankful.” He spat.
“I am, I am thankful.” You were mumbling as you tried to sit up, stumbling over your words as one of Sukuna’s hands came to press down on your delicate neck. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to- I was scared-”
“Scared?” Sukuna’s tone was mocking, his eyes alight with fury. “Scared of him?” He asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of Satoru, who was watching on with detached curiosity. The sight made your stomach churn, because that man’s honeyed words had moved and confused you and now he seemed unbothered by the whole matter.
Such was the way of gods, as your parents used to say. Mortals were little more than ants to them.
“Not scared of h-him.” Your answer was honest, because you didn’t truly believe Satoru to be a threat to you. Had you turned him down outside you were certain that he would’ve left you be, the issue was that he’d understood exactly what to say to get you to give in.
You were a fool, falling for nothing more than a silver tongue.
“Then what? Because there is nothing you should fear more than my wrath, little priestess, I thought you were smart enough to understand at least that.”
His grip was tightening as he leant more of his weight atop you, keeping you helplessly still. Your lungs started to burn, fingers reaching up to grapple at his wrist to no avail.
You could hardly fend off a human man, let alone the god of war himself.
“I fear- I fear your absence.” You confessed honestly, humiliation filling you at the sheer patheticness of your words. It was an insult to voice such things, to expect that you’d be worthy of his time or attention in any capacity.
Sukuna’s red eyes flew wide at your words and his grip faltered ever so slightly. “My…absence?”
“Yes,” you whispered. “One day you’ll leave me alone in the dark for good and I’ll h-have nothing.”
For a moment he was silent, brow furrowed as if in thought, before seemingly regaining his composure, his expression hardening.
“So you thought to whore yourself out to this fool instead?” He spat. “Forsake everything I’ve taught you, the very vow that you should live by, because you’re afraid of being lonely?”
You nodded as best as you could beneath his grip. “I’m sorry-“
“Pathetic. I’d thought of you as one of my best. I suppose I misjudged you.”
The disappointment in his tone had tears prickling at your eyes, filled to the brim with guilt. In the heat of the moment, Satoru’s points had made sense, had tugged at all your deepest fears. But now, with Sukuna’s weight pressing down upon you, all you could think about was how much of a fraud you were.
How spectacularly you’d failed at the one thing that gave your life meaning.
“Are- are you going to kill me?” Your voice was tiny, for beneath the judgement of your cherished master you were nothing more than a scared girl who understood little of gods and their whims.
Again, there was a flicker of something uncertain on Sukuna’s face, like he hadn’t anticipated those words to fall from your lips. You barely tensed as his fingers tightened around your throat once more, leaving you certain that he was moments from squeezing the life from your fragile body.
Part of you hoped Satoru would step in, but it was clear that he wouldn’t, simply lounging on one of the marble benches, watching the exchange with rapt attention. It was becoming apparent that he hadn’t had your best intentions in mind, no more of a friend to you than Sukuna was.
Perhaps all he’d wanted was to have some fun with some poor, hapless mortal.
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you sank back against the marble, accepting the fate Sukuna had deemed befitting of your crime. But before the sweet release of death could find you, the grip on your neck disappeared along with the weight of his body above you.
“You’re not even worth that,” Sukuna hissed, leaving you crumpled and gasping for breath, utterly confused and broken by his decision. “Drown in your sorrow, for I’ll give you nothing.”
It was the perfect humiliation, a suggestion that you weren’t even worth attention in the form of death, and before you could stop yourself you were sobbing openly, your cries bouncing around the marble walls.
Sukuna paid you no mind, heavy feet slamming across the floor in the direction of the doorway, only to freeze at the sound of Satoru’s calm voice from behind him.
“Like you’ve ever given her anything.”
“What?” Sukuna hissed, peering over his shoulder.
“You heard me. She told you what she feared, why she did this, and you still don’t understand. You’ve always been a fool,” Satoru chirped.
Sukuna remained frozen to the spot as the white-haired god approached you, crouching down behind you and pulling you carefully into his grip.
“How many times have you visited this temple, Sukuna?” Satoru’s fingers were toying with your body, running across your soft skin. His fingers brushed over your nipples and you flinched ever so slightly, your breathing picking up as his hand moved between your legs. Despite the situation you could feel your arousal growing, the sensation only heightened by the crimson eyes fixed fiercely onto your figure.
“What does it matter?”
“Do you remember?” Satoru purred against your ears.
You nodded, struggling to find your voice. “Eighty-three times.” You whispered, meekly. You could remember each visit with staggering clarity, no matter how similar each one may have been.
Satoru whistled. “That’s a lot. How often do you visit your other temples, Sukuna? Once? Twice? Never?”
The fingers dancing over your skin didn’t stop, and you felt that familiar pleasure building beneath Satoru’s touch, a pleasant comfort buzzing through your veins and chasing away the desperate fear which had plagued you moments ago. You saw Sukuna’s throat bob, a flicker of something deeply unhappy in his eyes as Satoru slipped a finger into you once more, all for him to see.
“I don’t see why it's any of your concern,” he said, finally.
“No? I suppose you don’t mind then, that I’m doing this to your favourite priestess. I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I made her one of mine, fucked her over my altar just like you used to.”
“I suppose not. She’s nothing. Just some pretty mortal who can’t even follow rules.” Sukuna’s tone was even, but still he didn’t move. His eyes were watching Satoru carefully, as if assessing his next steps.
“Great.” Satoru picked you up, and sat you down on the altar once more, back in the position that he’d put you in so carefully before Sukuna’s arrival. “I won’t waste any time then.” Discarding his own clothes, he dropped them down onto the marble. Your eyes scanned his form nervously - you were accustomed to being with Sukuna, familiar with his size, and found yourself glad to see that Satoru was smaller.
Not that you meant that in any sort of disparaging way.
He had a pretty cock, still thick and girthy, but the type that would bring you pleasure rather than stretch you out to the point of pain. Satoru smiled as he gazed down at you, a reassuring look that had your heart fluttering. Carefully he cupped your face, running his thumb over the purple bruise blossoming over your cheek.
Fingers clinging to his shoulders, you sucked in a breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. And yet, you couldn’t keep your attention fixed on the man before you, your gaze instinctively drifting to the hulking god standing in the doorway. His red gaze met yours, and there was a moment of terror in which you wondered if he’d kill you for looking at him without permission.
Instead, he held your stare, your heart beating harder as Satoru started to push into you, imagining that it was Sukuna holding you so tenderly, pushing into you with care and desire beyond animalistic need.
“Stop.” Sukuna uttered the word in such a low tone that you weren’t quite sure you’d caught it, figuring it was a hallucination born from your own need for the god. When he repeated it a second time, there was no mistaking its reality, for it came out as a bellow, a new deep cut appearing across Satoru’s back.
And then another.
And another.
Until the white-haired god was covered in a litany of slashes, pulling back from you swiftly, leaving you cold in your propped up position upon the altar. Your body began to tremble, hardly noticing the way Satoru was cursing off to the side of you, desperately trying to heal the damage Sukuna had caused to him.
You were too transfixed by your master storming towards you, wondering if Satoru’s slight had led Sukuna to change his mind about killing you.
With your breath picking up desperately, you were sure that you looked utterly terrified as he came to a stop before you, towering over you just as he always did. His shadow completely eclipsed you, and the hairs on your arm were standing on end, the desire to run overcoming you. But you’d seen what had happened to Satoru, a being who couldn’t be killed - one singular slash would spell your end.
“Tell me,” Sukuna said calmly. “What is it that you want? Do you despise me? Do you long for him and his temples of light?”
“No.”
“No?”
You shook your head again.
“Then what?”
“I told you already.” Your voice was soft and small. “I love you, and I want- I want you to love me.” It felt pathetic to say out loud, to give voice to a request so selfish and impossible. What were you to your master?
Nothing more than a mortal priestess.
And yet, after a moment of thought, he answered your question seriously. “I am no god of love. It is not something I could give to you even if I wanted to.”
Before he could say anything further, he was interrupted by the sound of Satoru’s laughter. The sound came out a little odd, making a gargling noise like he was choking on his own blood as he desperately tried to heal his wounds. “You’re such a fool, Sukuna.”
Glaring at him, Sukuna’s brows furrowed and another slash appeared across Satoru’s chest. It didn’t seem to phase him - in the time that you’d spent with him, you’d come to realise that few things did.
“Why do you visit her so frequently? Why indulge in her flesh when you have countless others? What reason can you give?” Satoru pushed. “I have seen you murder for matters most frivolous, but when you find her, your most devoted little thing, in the arms of another you let her go free? Cause her no more injury than a mere strike?”
“I do as I please, I need to offer you no explanation for my actions.” Sukuna hissed, still pinning you beneath his gaze as he dismissed his peer.
“No, but maybe you should try offering yourself one.”
Sukuna was frozen, his expression unchanging as he stared down at you. You weren’t sure what to make of the glimmer in your eye, feeling completely exposed beneath his gaze. You wanted to sink into the floor, didn’t want to endure any further humiliation or dismissal. You understood your place with great clarity, you needed no further confirmation.
“I’m sorry, please, there’s nothing wrong with our arrangement. I’m wrong to be upset. It's my role to serve whatever you desire. I’m sorry.” You chanted out apologies like a prayer, unsure as to what was going through Sukuna’s mind. You were shifting about awkwardly on the altar, feeling too vulnerable beneath his gaze.
“Oh stop, you. That’s not what you really think.” Satoru cut in. “I’ve been watching you long enough to know your mind, and I’ve always known his. I’d appreciate it if you both stop wasting my time.”
“Stop wasting…?” You faltered, falling silent, struggling to understand Satoru’s words. He ran a hand carefully through his hair, gaze flickering between you and Sukuna.
Sukuna's brow furrowed further, finally pulling his gaze from you to look at his fellow god. “I knew you were playing some kind of game.”
“Oh please, you constantly go off to some poxy little temple on an island forgotten by all of us and expect me not to notice something odd? I had to take a look at what had captured your attention, and to see how you were handling it made me feel embarrassed. I figured I’d give you a push in the right direction. Now go on. Stop lying to yourself.”
For a moment, it seemed like Sukuna might make a move to attack Satoru, clear rage smouldering in the crimson of his eyes. But by some miracle, his attention turned back to you, and that anger dissipated, giving way to an expression which you were unfamiliar with.
Shaking, your breath hitched as his fingers trailed beneath your chin. You couldn’t follow what was happening, struggling to piece together the role that Satoru had played here, unclear on whether Sukuna had forgiven you, half convinced that he’d behead you for the annoyance that Satoru had caused him.
Instead, he leant forward, breath fanning against your face.
“Do you even know how to kiss?” Satoru interrupted. “She likes that, you know, seemed desperate for it when I-”
“Silence.”
Sukuna’s thumb stroked along your jaw, and you blinked nervously, eyes darting anywhere but his face. This was uncharted territory, unaccustomed to facing him like this at all, let alone being treated with such tenderness. Anxiety swirled in your stomach, conscious that this act of warmth might be something final.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, staring directly into the deep crimson of his eyes.
The kiss that followed was slow, stealing the breath from your lungs as his lips pressed against yours, almost tentatively. It was in stark contrast to his usual vigor and aggression, the contact careful in nature.
His tongue pressed into your mouth, dominating you as was always his way, but not devouring you completely as he usually would. The exploration was more like a dance, his tongue flicking curiously against yours as one of his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him.
The warmth of his body was new to you, accustomed solely to the weight of him taking you from behind, completely detached from heat and affection. To feel his chest against yours, radiating heat against your smaller form, had your heart racing.
“Not so hard, is it?” Satoru quipped, only for Sukuna to pull away for a moment and fix him with a glare.
“I will chop you into pieces.”
“Pretend I’m not here.” Satoru raised his hands defensively, and that seemed to be good enough for Sukuna, his attention turned back to you. Your lashes were fluttering, legs pressing against his waist, the sweat forcing your skin to stick against his.
“What-”
“You should stay quiet too.” He spoke, albeit more softly than the sharp tone directed to Satoru. “Lest I change my mind.”
You took his order as gospel, clamping your mouth shut and deciding that you didn’t need an explanation at that moment, despite your confusion. If he was going to treat you with reverence, you’d rather experience such a thing firsthand than force an explanation out of him.
There was no way you’d take the risk of disrupting whatever was currently taking place.
Leaning in once more, you instinctively closed your eyes at his approach, a little surprised as he stalled just before contact, the skin of his lips ghosting against yours. A hand went to your cheek, brushing over the flowering purple bruise. Wincing, you found yourself watching him carefully, like a deer assessing a new being in the forest, one whose level of threat remained unclear.
Caressing the bruise, he let out a heavy sigh before a lovely sense of warmth spread through your face, emitting from his hand. Moments later it was gone, along with the throbbing pain in your cheek, like he’d undone the damage he’d caused.
Before you could question it or thank him, his lips were on yours once again, soft and enticing, pulling you against him in an embrace that felt reserved for lovers, rather than one of a god getting his fill of a servant.
His four hands started to roam over your body, brushing your breasts, squeezing your thighs, feeling you as if it were the first time his hands had touched your flesh. One of his hands moved between your legs, experimentally moving the slick through your folds, a thick finger dipping into you.
Such attention had you whining against him, a sound that was swiftly swallowed by his lips. His finger was thicker than Satoru’s had been, working you open carefully, an action he had never thought to take in the past. You couldn’t understand the effect that Satoru had created within him, unsure as to how he’d gone from hitting and rejecting you, to offering you affection he’d never allowed before.
He slid another finger into you, stretching you out until he was satisfied, his lips locked against yours until he was pulling his fingers back. “Suck.” He ordered gruffly, a trace of his old self present in the way his fingers pressed against your lips, forcing their way into your mouth.
Satoru made a sound of disapproval in the background, reminding you of his presence, but if Sukuna heard, he paid the man no mind. He seemed too focused on your body spread out before him, your wide eyes looking up at him nervously.
He shed his clothes in a single action, letting the fabric pool on the floor beside yours. Your eyes instinctively moved down to where his cock hung heavy between his legs, the monstrous size never failing to steal your breath away. You could hardly believe the number of times he’d sheathed the thing within you without any effort of preparation, your body adapting because it was what he required.
This time was different.
Mirroring the treatment that Satoru had given you earlier, Sukuna carefully ran the tip of his cock through your folds, red eyes fixed on your face. You felt shy, eager to turn your face away. It was easier to do this in the manner he usually would, with you bent over while he took you from behind. Gazing upon him so openly felt too vulnerable for your liking, even if the lust in his eyes had your heart racing.
“You are my favoured one.” Sukuna’s voice was deep, “understand that, because I do not wish to speak more on the matter.”
Lips parting, the question of what that meant dangled on your tongue. To you it suggested the situation was the same as before - for now he favoured you, in a few years time the matter would be different.
He seemed to understand your concern before you could voice it.
“I will not toss you aside for something as trivial as old age. To attract my attention is something significant, not a matter of simple youthful looks.” A yelp fell from your throat as he pushed himself into you, easily filling you to the brim, just like he always would.
You had a million questions running through your mind, wondering where his true feelings towards you lay. It was clear that Satoru understood him better than you did, pushing him to some sort of conclusion that he wouldn’t have stumbled upon on his own.
“Do not betray me again.” He huffed in your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Do so and I will not forgive you, you’ll receive no more mercy than my enemies would. But cling to your loyalty and I will give you what you seek. You’ll have my attention, my affection, for as long as you deserve it.”
“I’ll offer you everything.” The words came out breathy, your body twitching as he withdrew himself from you only to fill you up once more, rewarding you with long deep strokes that held far more affection than the frenzied fucking that you’d usually receive from him.
You found your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, drawing blood and marring his perfect form with each brutal thrust, simply trying to cling onto him. Your cries were loud, echoing within the marble just as they always had, but the nature this time was different, for your cries were ones of pleasure rather than desire for more.
Sukuna’s breaths were heavy, rasping hard against your ear with each smooth movement of his hips. The passion had your eyes rolling back in your skull, babbling out his name pathetically, demonstrating your loyalty to him in your ecstatic reaction to his actions.
This was all you’d ever wanted.
An opportunity that had once seemed impossible.
His fingers were bruising your thighs, pulling you closer with each stroke, and as your thighs tightened around his hips, one of his hands slipped down between the two of you, rubbing that sensitive nub that he’d never deigned to touch before, always too focussed on chasing his own gratification.
Lights danced in your eyes at the contact, a desperate cry of his name ripping from your throat as you squeezed around him, cumming on his cock. It felt almost humiliating to find pleasure before him like that, something that he’d never been interested in witnessing in past visits.
If you ever came with him inside of you before, it was an accident rather than intention.
This time, he seemed to have driven you to it, nipping at your neck and circling your clit carefully, even after you’d gushed all over him.
Of course, his hips still didn’t let up, fucking you fast and deep until he reached his own release, his arms wrapped tight around your smaller form, pulling you as close as humanely possible as he poured his own seed into you, finding satisfaction in the way that it dripped down your sweaty thighs and onto the altar below.
Past experience led you to believe that he’d pull away immediately, dropping you down unceremoniously onto the ground, with little regard to the damage it might cause your fragile body.
But this time he did no such thing.
He lifted you carefully, cradling you within his muscular arms and sitting down upon the cool floor, keeping you warm within the confines of his lap. Your heart was speeding at one hundred miles a minute, your fingers pressing against his chest, clinging to him as if he’d disappear if you let go for even a moment.
A hand was brushing your hair, another stroking your thigh, while two were wrapped firmly around your midsection. All four of his eyes were fixed on you too, no distractions in the manner you’d come to expect from him, his focus was on you alone.
You were his, and at least to some extent, he was yours.
“How sweet.” Satoru’s saccharine voice sounded from across the room. The god was leaning his face on his hand, blue eyes sparkling as he watched the exchange. Sukuna straightened up ever so slightly, fixing him with a glare.
“Leave,” he commanded.
“Aw, not even a thank you? You’re so ungrateful.” The white-haired god stood up, a pout fixed on his pink lips.
“A thank you for doing your job? No one thanks me for starting wars, so why would I thank you for orchestrating a union? Love is nothing special.”
“I could’ve sabotaged your love. Kept that pretty little thing all to myself.” He pointed in your direction, offering Sukuna a toothy grin. “In fact, if you cross me I still might. I can make people fall out of love too if I so wish, irritate me and I’ll put a curse on your favoured mortal.”
Sukuna’s face was stormy, his grip tightening on you in a manner that felt almost protective. “Meddle in matters of my heart ever again and I’ll cut you to pieces and spread them across the corners of the globe. I’m sure no one would miss a few centuries without you.”
“So prickly.” Satoru rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re kinder to her. How she could ever fall for you is beyond my reckoning.”
Sukuna peered down at you, and through the centuries of malice lining his ancient, war-scarred face, you could see it - the soft twinkle in his eyes as he met your gaze. The sharp edges of a god of massacre, tempered only for you.
He would keep his promise.
His affection would not be altered by lines of age on your face. Despite all his shortcomings, he was loyal to his word, and he had offered you a piece of his heart no matter how shrivelled and blackened it may be.
And you would cherish that gift for as long as you drew breath.
a/n: NEED HIM BAD <3
anyway to any crazy in love readers I'm currently working on the next chapter and am planning to have it up in the next week or so
thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated as always <3
after moving to your grandmother’s quiet island home after your parents’ death, you get pulled into a slow, dangerous summer with Sukuna, the older neighbor next door. what starts as grief, heat, and bad timing turns into one unthinkable night that changes the way you see love, loss, and yourself.
pairing: ryomen sukuna x fem!reader
content: angst, smut, age gap, summer romance, grief, coming of age
cw: 18+, age gap, grief/mourning, loss of parents, explicit sexual content, emotional vulnerability
word count: 5.9k
By the time you got to the island, everyone already knew two things about you.
The first was that your grandmother made the best shikuwasa juice on the street. The second was that your parents had died.
That was how small places worked. News crossed the water faster than people did.
You arrived with two suitcases, a phone full of condolences you stopped answering, and the ugly, disgusting feeling that your life had ended somewhere else and your body had shown up here by mistake. Your grandmother didn’t hug you for long when she met you at the port. She just took one suitcase, told you the ferry food was terrible, and asked if you wanted rice when you got home.
It was the kindest thing anyone had done for you in weeks.
The island sat off Okinawa, small enough that everybody waved at everybody and every road eventually bent back toward the sea. Your grandmother’s house stood on a quiet lane with potted herbs out front, laundry lines in the yard, and a view of the water if you leaned far enough from the upstairs window. The air smelled like salt, hot concrete, and citrus from the crate stacks near the kitchen.
The fruit came from next door.
You noticed him before you met him.
Every few mornings, a man would come through the side gate carrying a crate against one shoulder like it weighed nothing. Sometimes it was shikuwasa, sometimes mangoes, sometimes dragon fruit split pink as open mouths. He would set the crate by the back steps and your grandmother would hand over three bottles of juice in return, cold enough to sweat through the glass.
He never lingered.
He was tall, wide through the shoulders, tattooed from wrist to elbow, with a face that looked built for saying no. His hair was pink, grown out enough to show dark roots. Rings on three fingers. Old black shirts. An expression that made him seem permanently unimpressed by whatever was in front of him.
The first time your grandmother caught you looking, she slapped your arm lightly with a dish towel.
“Don’t be stupid.”
“I’m literally just standing here.”
“You’re nineteen. That counts as stupid all by itself.”
You laughed in spite of yourself. It felt rusty. Like a hinge that hadn’t been used.
A week later she sent you over with the empty crate.
“Take this back to Sukuna,” she said. “And put your face right.”
“My face is fine.”
“It looks like you’re going to court.”
His house was close enough that your grandmother could’ve shouted if she wanted to. One story. Concrete walls bleached pale by the sun. A motorcycle near the side of the house. Wind chimes that barely moved in the heat.
You knocked once.
Nothing.
Twice.
The door swung open and there he was, damp pink hair and low slung gray shorts, a towel around his neck.
He looked at the crate in your arms first. Then at you.
“What?”
Your throat went dry for no reason that didn’t annoy you. “My grandma said to bring this back.”
He stared a second longer, taking you in without being sleazy about it. That somehow made it worse.
“You’re the granddaughter.”
“You say that like I’m a package..”
He took the crate from you with one hand. “You talk a lot.”
“You asked one question.”
“No, I didn’t.”
That should’ve irritated you. Instead it nearly made you smile.
He stepped aside, set the crate just inside the doorway, then looked back at you. “You settlin in?”
It was the first normal thing anyone had asked since you got there. Not Are you okay. Not It must be so hard. Just that.
You leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. “Not really.”
He gave a short nod, like that was the only answer he respected. “Good.”
You frowned. “Good?”
“If you liked it right away, I’d assume there was something wrong with you.”
You let out a laugh before you could stop it.
His eyes flicked to your mouth for half a second. “There. Better.”
Then he shut the door in your face…
After that, you started seeing him everywhere.
At the dock before noon, helping unload sacks of feed off the ferry. Outside the convenience store, smoking with one hand in his pocket while three old women talked at him like he belonged to them. In your grandmother’s yard, dropping off fruit and pretending he wasn’t listening when she asked too many questions about his brother.
Ryomen Sukuna, your grandmother told you over dinner, was thirty six, born on the island, mean since childhood, dependable in every emergency, and impossible to impress.
“Why do you know so much about him?” you asked.
“Because I’ve been old longer than you’ve been alive.”
It turned out everybody liked him, though nobody described him as nice. He fixed what broke. Carried heavy things. Drove elderly neighbors to appointments on the main island when the ferry schedule got messed up. He never smiled when he did any of it. That almost made it worse. Like kindness had slipped into him against his will and he resented being caught at it.
He stayed distant with you.
Not cold. Not really...
Careful.
He never touched you unless there was a reason. If you were both reaching for the same thing, he pulled his hand back. If you stood too close in your grandmother’s kitchen, he shifted away like he could feel the line in the floor neither of you were supposed to cross.
That restraint did something ugly and irresistible to you.
Maybe it was grief…or maybe it was loneliness. Maybe it was just being nineteen and newly aware of your own body again after months of feeling like a ghost wearing your skin. Whatever it was, it got worse every time he looked at you for too long and then acted like he hadn’t.
Once, during a thunderstorm, your grandmother’s back screen door came off its hinge and Sukuna came over with a toolbox.
You stood in the kitchen doorway while rain slammed the yard flat and watched him work. Wet shirt stuck to his back. Hair dripping at the nape of his neck. Forearms flexing each time he drove in a screw.
Without looking up, he said, “If you keep staring holes into me, the door’s not getting fixed any faster.”
Heat climbed your face fast at the fact you got caught. “Maybe you’re just dramatic.”
Now he looked up.
Rain thudded against the roof between you.
“You should stop doing that” he said.
“Doing what?”
“Looking at me like you’ve already made your mind up.”
You tried to laugh it off. “You think too highly of yourself.”
“I think exactly highly enough.”
He went back to the hinge like the conversation was over.
It wasn’t over for you.
That night, under the ceiling fan in your childhood bedroom turned temporary again, you lay awake listening to rainwater drip from the eaves and thought about the way he had said it. Not flattered. Nor teasing..
Warning you.
Your grandmother noticed before you admitted anything to yourself.
One late afternoon she was slicing citrus at the counter while you washed bottles in the sink.
“Don’t fall in love next door” she said.
You nearly dropped the glass bottle in your hand. “Who said anything about love?”
She didn’t look up. “Young girls never know the difference between wanting and love until it’s too late.”
You stared out the window toward his house. “Maybe older people don’t either.”
That finally made her smile.
The first time you were alone with him for more than five minutes, he drove you to the main store on the other side of the island because your grandmother’s knee was acting up and the delivery truck had been late again.
His truck smelled like cigarettes, clean soap, and heat baked vinyl. He drove one handed, his elbow hanging out the window, saying almost nothing while the ocean flashed silver through breaks in the roadside brush.
At a red light, he glanced over.
“You eating?”
The question caught you off guard. “What kind of question is that?”
“The kind I asked.”
You looked out the windshield. “Sometimes.”
“Not good enough.”
You almost said something back, but something in his face stopped you. He wasn’t being gentle. He was being direct. There was a difference.
“My grandma makes sure I eat,” you said.
“Good.”
a little quieter he spoke again, “You look tired.”
For one horrible second, your eyes burned.
You turned your head fast, embarrassed. “I don’t sleep great.”
“No shit.”
And that was all. No pity. No soft voice. No reaching over with a hand you might have broken over if he’d offered it wrong.
You wanted him a little from then on. You wanted him badly after that.
Summer moved the way it always does in places like that. Slow enough to notice every hour. Fast enough to realize, too late, that it was nearly gone.
You learned the road to the seawall, the best time to buy fish, which neighbors would keep you talking for forty minutes if you didn’t escape fast. You helped your grandmother bottle juice and label jars and sweep the porch. You smiled more. Ate more. Started answering texts again, though not many. Started standing in the sun without feeling guilty for it.
And through all of it, Sukuna stayed just close enough to ruin you.
A hand at the small of your back once when a scooter came too fast around a blind corner.
His mouth against your ear when he leaned past you for a bottle in your grandmother’s fridge. “Move.”
The look he gave you when he caught you in shorts and one of your grandmother’s old oversized shirts, legs bare, hair damp from the shower.
Not hunger.
Recognition.
That was what made it worse.
He knew exactly what he was doing every time he walked away.
One night near the end of August, your grandmother went to bed early with a headache. The house fell quiet around ten. You were rinsing glasses at the sink when you saw movement through the window.
Sukuna was crossing his yard toward the road.
Black shirt. Dark jeans instead of work shorts. Rings. Watch. Hair pushed back from his face like he’d actually bothered with it.
You wiped your hands on a towel and stepped out onto the porch before you could think better of it.
“Sukuna.”
He stopped at the gate and looked over.
The porch light caught on the edge of his jaw. “What.”
“Where are you going?”
He checked the time on his watch. “Out.”
“That helps.”
He exhaled through his nose. “Main island. Friend’s bar. Go back inside.”
You came down the steps barefoot.
Warm pavement. Night insects buzzing in the dark. Somewhere near the shore music from the local bar carried in and out with the wind.
He watched you cross the space between the houses and something in his face tightened.
“Do not” he said quietly.
You stopped in front of him. “Do not what?”
“Whatever you came out here to do.”
You looked up at him. “How do you know?”
“Because I’m not stupid.”
The words sat between you. So did the months that had led to them.
You crossed your arms, more to hold yourself together than anything else. “Maybe I just didn’t want you going to some bar.”
His mouth pulled at one corner, humorless. “You don’t get a say in that.”
“Maybe I want one…”
“That’s the problem.”
You hated how calm he sounded. How controlled he was... Like he could stand there and act like your pulse wasn’t beating in his throat too.
“You feel it..” you said…or more like mumbled
He said nothing.
You stepped closer. “You do-”
His jaw flexed. “You’re nineteen.”
“You keep saying that like I don’t know.”
“And I’m thirty six.”
“I know that too bu-”
“That should be enough.”
“It isn’t.”
His eyes dropped shut for a second, brief and heavy. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”
Your voice came out like a small desperate plead. “Then tell me.”
He laughed once, but there was no humor in it. “You want the true?. You’re grieving. You’re lonely. You moved to a tiny island where I’m one of the only new things your body’s had room to want in months. And I’m old enough to know that wanting something in the middle of a wreck doesn’t mean it’s good for you.”
It should have made you angry.
Instead it made your chest ache, because it was cruel and careful at the same time and only he could manage that.
You lifted your chin. “What if I still want it?”
His stare turned hard. “That doesn’t make it smart.”
“Since when do you care about smart?”
“Since you.”
That landed so hard you forgot to breathe.
Neither of you moved for a second.
Then you reached up and caught his shirt lightly in your fist, right over his chest.
“If you want me to go back inside,” you said, “say it like you mean it.”
He looked down at your hand.
Then at your face.
When he spoke, his voice was rougher than before. “Go inside.”
You held his stare.
He swore under his breath.
The sound that left you wasn’t quite a laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
His hand came up so fast it made your pulse jump, closing around your wrist, not hard enough to hurt, just enough to stop you from saying anything else stupid.
“You think this is a game?”
“No.”
“Then stop acting like it.”
“I’m not.”
You could feel the heat of him even through the night air. The restraint in his grip. The fact that he still hadn’t pulled you any closer.
That more than anything made you brave.
“You’ve wanted me back,” you said.
He stayed quiet
Then, with a voice so honest and doomed, “Yes.”
The word went straight through you.
You rose onto your toes and kissed him.
He didn’t kiss you back at first.
That half second felt endless. You felt every line he was drawing in his head. Every reason. Every warning. Every decent impulse fighting its last fight.
Then his free hand came to the side of your neck and he kissed you hard enough to make your whole body wake up.
Not sweet. Not rushed either. Deep and careful, sukuna was furious with himself for knowing exactly how long he’d wanted to do it.
You made a sound against his mouth and he pulled back just enough to look at you.
“Last chance..” he said.
Your answer was a whisper. “Take me inside.”
Something in his face gave.
He walked you backward through his front door with one hand on your waist and the other locked around your wrist like if he let go too soon he might come to his senses. The house was dark except for the kitchen light over the sink, yellow and low. Your back hit the wall beside the doorway. He stared down at you for one dragging second, his big chest rising, eyes blown darker than you’d ever seen them.
Then he kissed you again.
This time there was nothing careful about the first impact of it. His hand slid into your hair, tipped your head back, and his mouth opened yours until your knees softened. He kissed like a man who had been denying himself something for too long and hated that you could tell.
Your hands found his shoulders, then his chest, then the line of his stomach under the shirt. Hard and warm
He broke away long enough to grab the hem of your shirt. “This come off?”
“Yes.”
He pulled it over your head and looked at you in your thin lacy bra and sleep shorts like the sight genuinely bothered him.
“Christ..” he muttered.
You should have felt shy but you didn’t. Not with the way he was looking at you, like you’d already gotten under his skin and now he had to live with it.
His thumb pressed against your lower lip. “You sure?”
“Yes.”
“Use words I can’t misunderstand.”
You swallowed. “I’m sure.”
That was all it took.
His mouth moved to your throat, his teeth grazing lightly once before he kissed the spot softer, like he knew exactly how much you could take and wasn’t going to give you more until you asked for it. His hands ran down your sides, slow enough to make you shiver, then around to your ass, pulling you tight against him so you could feel how hard he already was.
The breath that left you was embarrassing. He noticed.
“Yeah?” he said against your neck.
You nodded.
His hand slid under the waistband of your shorts, fingers skimming bare skin, then the soaked center of you. You jerked against the wall.
“Look at that,” he murmured, not unkindly. “Been this worked up over me all summer?”
Heat waved down your face. “Sukuna.”
“What.” His fingers dragged through you once, slow and thorough, and your thighs almost gave. “You want me quiet now?”
“No.”
“No what?”
You stared at him, breath catching. “No. Don’t be quiet.”
His mouth curved, turning mean and satisfied.
“Good girl.”
The words hit low and hot. You made a sound that seemed to please him even more. He pressed his forehead briefly to yours, exhaled once like he was getting himself under control, then slid two fingers inside you in one smooth push.
You gasped and grabbed at his shirt.
“There,” he said softly, watching your face. “That’s it.”
It was too much and not enough. The stretch, the drag of his fingers, the way his thumb circled your clit just right like he’d known your body for longer than five minutes. Your head fell back against the wall. He kept his eyes on you the whole time, working you open slowly, making you take it, making sure you could.
“You can tell me to stop,” he said.
You shook your head fast.
“Words.”
“Don’t stop.”
“Good.”
He kissed you again while he fingered you, swallowing every helpless sound he pulled out of you. The room felt too small. Too hot. When your legs started shaking, he took his hand away and you nearly whimpered at the loss.
He looked at his wet fingers once, his jaw tightening, then grabbed the backs of your thighs and lifted you.
You clutched at him automatically. He carried you down the short hallway like you weighed nothing and set you on the edge of his bed.
The room smelled like laundry detergent, skin, and the open window letting in sea air. Moonlight cut across the floorboards. He stood between your knees, looking down at you like he was trying not to ruin anything.
Then he dropped to his knees.
You stared. “Sukuna...”
“Relax.”
Easy for him to say.
He hooked his fingers into your shorts and dragged them down your legs, taking your underwear with them, and the look he gave your bare body made your pulse stutter. Not polite. Nor romantic. Hungry in a way that was somehow more intimate because he was still holding back.
When he spread your thighs wider, your breath caught.
“Tell me if it’s too much…” he said.
Then his mouth was on you and every coherent thought left your body.
He was filthy about it. Thorough. Patient for exactly thirty seconds, then not patient at all. He licked into you slow at first, learning what made your hips jump, what made your fingers twist in the sheets, what sound your voice made when his tongue flattened and his thumb found your clit. When he got the rhythm right, he kept it, relentless in a way that made tears sting unexpectedly at the corners of your eyes.
Not sadness.
Just the sheer force of being paid that much attention.
Your hand went to his hair. “Please...”
He looked up at you without stopping, eyes dark, and the sight nearly undid you by itself.
“Please what.”
You were shaking too hard to be embarrassed. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
He made a low sound against you that felt like approval and pushed two fingers back inside at the same time, curling them until your whole body arched.
You came hard enough to lose your breath.
He didn’t let up until he’d dragged it all the way through you, until your thighs were trembling around his shoulders and you were saying his name non stop.
When he finally rose, mouth glossy and wet with your juices, expression wrecked in a way that made him look more dangerous instead of less, you could only stare.
He wiped his thumb over your lower lip. “Still sure?”
You pulled him down by the shirt and kissed him. Tasted yourself on his mouth. Felt the way that made him groan, low and rough.
He stripped fast after that. Shirt first. Jeans next. You caught a glimpse of tattoos disappearing under his waistband, the hard line of his stomach, the heavy length of him in his hand when he shoved his boxers down, and whatever shy instinct you had left just burned out.
He opened the bedside drawer, grabbed a condom, and ripped it with his teeth.
The practicality of it made something in your chest loosen. Real. This was real…
When he looked back at you, his voice was steady again, even if the rest of him wasn’t. “Lie back.”
You did.
He settled over you, one knee between yours, one hand braced beside your head while the other guided himself through your slick and tapped once against your clit, making you jolt.
“Sensitive already?”
You could barely answer. “Yes.”
“Too bad.”
Then he pushed in.
It was slow, slower than you expected from him, and that somehow felt more intimate than if he’d just taken what he wanted. The stretch made your mouth fall open. He watched every inch of your face as he sank deeper, his jaw tight, breathing through his nose like patience was costing him something.
“Look at me” he said.
You did.
“That’s it.”
When he finally bottomed out, the sound he made was almost angry.
You were the one who moved first, lifting your hips weakly. He caught the motion, kissed you once, hard, then set a pace that made the bed knock softly against the wall.
Nothing about it felt dreamy. It felt physical. Wet. Hot. The drag of his body against yours. The weight of him on one forearm so he didn’t crush you. The way one of your legs ended up hooked high around his waist while his hand spread over your thigh to keep you open for him. He gave it to you rougher once he knew you could take it, but never carelessly. Every time your breath hitched too sharply, he slowed for a second, watched your face, then kept going when you pulled him closer.
“You still with me?” he asked against your mouth.
“Yes.”
“Say it right.”
“Yes, I’m with you.”
“Good.”
He drove into you deeper and your nails dug into his shoulders.
You lost track of time after that. There was only his mouth on yours, then your throat, then your breasts. His hand between your bodies, thumb pressing circles that made your back arch off the mattress. The filthy, helpless sounds he pulled out of you. The way his control kept fraying the closer he got, until his forehead dropped to yours and every thrust started landing harder, more honest.
“That’s it,” he said, voice wrecked now. “Take it.”
Your whole body tightened.
He felt it instantly. “Again?”
You nodded, unable to speak.
“Come for me, then.”
The bluntness of it sent you over. You came with his name in your mouth and your legs shaking around him, and the way you clenched around him made him swear low and vicious before he followed, buried deep, hand gripping your thigh hard enough to leave the memory of it there.
For a long moment neither of you moved.
The fan turned lazily overhead.
Sukuna kissed the corner of your mouth, then the side of your head, small absent things that felt almost more dangerous than the sex itself.
He got up first, dealt with the condom, came back with a glass of water, and handed it to you without comment.
You sat up against his headboard with your hair a mess, pink lips swollen, body humming all over. He leaned against the dresser in nothing but his boxers and looked at you like he was trying to decide whether this had been a terrible idea or the worst one of his life.
You took a drink. “You make everything look dramatic.”
That got the faintest almost smile out of him. “You make everything worse.”
“You didn’t seem upset five minutes ago.”
He dragged a hand over his face. “You really do talk too much.”
But he took the glass from you and set it down gently.
When he got back into bed, he didn’t pull you on top of him or say anything stupid about forever. He just lay beside you, one arm under his head, the other heavy across your waist when you curled into his side like it was the most natural place in the world.
Before sleep took you, he said into the dark, “You’re leaving this island eventually.”
You lifted your head. “Is that your pillow talk?”
“It’s me being serious.”
You went quiet.
His hand moved once over your back. “Don’t build your life around one summer,” he said. “Not even a good one.”
The words should have hurt..
Instead they settled somewhere painful and true.
By morning, the room looked ordinary again. Your clothes were in a line on the floor. The condom wrapper was in the trash. Sunlight came in through the curtains like nothing life changing had happened in the night.
That was the strangest part.
Nothing dramatic followed.
You did not become his girlfriend. He did not turn soft. He did not suddenly stop being difficult or proud or thirty six.
But something between you had been named, and after that it lived in everything.
In the way his hand lingered at your waist when he passed you in the kitchen.
In the way he looked at your mouth when you laughed.
In the way he still kept his distance in daylight, because he was stubborn and because, underneath all that arrogance, he had a conscience that annoyed both of you.
Summer tipped into fall. The island cooled. You got a part time job at a café near the port. You started sleeping through most nights. You stopped feeling guilty every time something made you happy.
And little by little, without asking permission from your grief, your life began again.
When you told your grandmother in winter that you wanted to apply to a university in Naha, she nodded like she’d been waiting.
“Good,” she said, slicing citrus at the counter. “You were never meant to stay because you were sad.”
A month later, on one of the last warm evenings before spring, you found Sukuna at the seawall watching the ferry lights come in.
You sat beside him. Close, not touching.
He glanced over. “Your interview’s next week.”
“Are you stalking me through my grandma now?”
“She talks too much.”
“She says the same about me.”
“She’s right.”
You smiled and looked out at the water.
After a minute, he said, “You’ll get in.”
“You sound very sure.”
“I usually am.”
There was a time that answer would have irritated you. Now it just sounded like him.
You drew one knee up and rested your arm over it. “You know what the worst part is?”
He side eyed you. “I’m about to.”
“That when I first came here, I thought wanting you was the whole story.”
His expression didn’t change, but his attention sharpened.
You kept your eyes on the water. “It wasn’t. It was just the first thing that made me feel awake again.”
For once, he had no quick answer.
The ferry horn sounded over the dark water.
Then he said, quiet enough that you almost missed it, “Good.”
You turned to look at him.
His face was lit gold at the edges by the harbor lamps. Older than yours. Harder. Familiar in a way that still had the power to ache.
And suddenly you understood what your grandmother had meant without saying it straight. Wanting could be real and still not be meant to last. Some people came into your life like a season. They changed the temperature. They taught your body something. They left before you could make a home out of them.
That didn’t make it less true.
It just made it honest.
You leaned your head briefly against his shoulder.
He let you.
“Thank you,” you said.
He clicked his tongue. “For what.”
You smiled to yourself. “For not being gentle with me in the ways that would’ve made me weak.”
He was quiet for a long moment.
Then, very softly “You were never weak.”
It hit you harder than I love you would have.
Maybe because he meant it.
Maybe because he never said anything he didn’t.
When you sat back up, the space between you felt the same and different all at once.
Below the seawall, the tide kept coming in.
Beside you, Sukuna said nothing else.
He didn’t have to.
For the first time since your parents died, the future did not feel like an empty room.
NOBLE ✦ heian!sukuna and his new arranged wife!reader...who barely looks at him, let alone fucks him... | NSFW. oral (f. rec). slight degredation. manhandling. a steamy onsen. ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა (3.6k)
Life had been a series of decisions made by everyone but you.
Being raised under strict rule and watchful eye just to be sold off to the wealthiest, most respected man in the country wasn't something you fought exactly, you knew it was a battle you wouldn't win.
They could treat you like a prize sow, but that didn't mean you'd sit there getting fat and happy and filled with babies like one.
Especially not when you were being unloaded onto a warlord.
Sorry, not a warlord, the warlord.
Unrivaled and undefeated, Sukuna Ryomen wore blood and ash to your first meeting as casually as he did his kimono.
Draped, loose, open in the front like he didn't care who gawked at his chiseled chest or the thick black ink that wrapped his body and disappeared into the robe.
You kept your head low but your eyes on the bored, tattooed face of the man who didn't even seem to be listening to the details of your ceremony taking place the following week.
Sukuna got one look at your expression, your posture, your dress, and was about to write you off as yet another mindless, well trained insect who got off on following orders. You certainly looked the part.
But as the meeting finished and you rose to your feet, lowering to a deep and respectful bow, you muttered something at him.
"I do hope you plan to bathe before the ceremony, I can smell you from here."
When you straightened, your face gave absolutely nothing away. But there was venom and fire slithering behind the courteous tone.
When you walked off to follow your mother and father, you did not look back.
But you... you insulted him. Told him he stunk right to his face and shattered the image he'd built in his head in the moments you knelt across from him.
Maybe you weren't the polite, sweet, mindless doll your parents raised you to be.
Well, at least you wouldn't be boring.
...
Oh, how he had come to regret those words.
Sukuna didn't think much about how his life would change once he was married. He'd be expected to make an heir, but it wasn't like that would affect his life.
Ha.
Hard to make an heir when his wife refused to acknowledge his existence, god forbid sleep in the same bed.
Hard to make an heir when his balls were full and the only seed he spent was on pretty, fluff-for-brains concubines, or eventually, when he could hardly stand to even look at them, his own god damned hand.
Being married to you wasn't only not boring, it was hell.
He had to wonder which of the many heinous acts he'd committed thus far in his lifetime had landed him living punishment in the form of you.
Probably all of them.
But Sukuna wasn't only a sadist, but a masochist just the same.
Sure he glared and sneered and scoffed at your back as you walked out the moment he stepped in a room. Making a snide comment under your breath as you passed him just to set his teeth grinding away.
Sometimes he would bark a, "Know your place, woman." At your disappearing form, catching your shoulders shaking the slightest bit. Like you were fucking laughing.
It made his blood boil and hands itch to do something. To retaliate, to show you your place and put you in it.
You were supposed to be a wife. Subservient and devoted in every way to him and his wants, his needs.
That’s the thing, in every technical way, you were. You ran the household, ate meals with him when expected, attended ceremonies and political gatherings when it was called for. On the outside, you were absolutely perfect.
And in some backwards way, you really were perfect for him.
A match in fire and callousness, you didn't let it rage out of control like he could. You kept it in check and used your seething as an underhanded weapon.
One that really got you what you wanted, because now you had all the freedoms of a wealthy noblewoman, and you had Sukuna reluctantly wrapped around your pretty little finger.
You knew he was not the person to have worked up and left on the edge, but it’s not like you particularly gave a shit. It was amusing to see how his crimson eyes lingered as you passed in the hall, some staff member in tow as you listed off your preferences and plans for a gathering. The way his nostrils flared as he caught your scent.
No, it slapped him across the face. Invaded his senses and had all four of his fists clenched.
He told himself you were just another woman. His wife, sure, but no different than any other concubine. But the way his hands itched to reach and grab you at the waist, rip your obi off and squeeze the soft curve instead, to pull you in and bury his face into the crook of your neck and breathe so deep he’d never get your scent out of his sinuses.
The way he ached to have you sat on his lap taking every inch of him, to fill you until your belly swelled with his babies. Fucked his heir into you.
He’d never had the urge to breed before, and it was really fucking annoying. It made him feel like a fucking animal, and he hated it.
Sure he sated animalistic needs, eating, fucking, killing. But they didn’t control him.
Sukuna could level civilizations singlehandedly, raze villages to the ground and upheave the world just to toss it on its head. He was a warlord—no, the fucking warlord, and his pretty little wife had him tearing his own hair out.
God, he needed to relax. This wasn’t him. He didn’t let emotions run his life, and he certainly didn't let people run his life.
Meanwhile you and your life carried on just the same. Ate dinner and sipped fine tea imported from the mountainous regions to the east, strolled the gardens full of fresh blooms and the low buzzing hum of cicadas, stripped free of your yukata with the help of your attendants and left to soak in the hot spring watching the sun set on the land.
On your land.
You supposed being married to the brute wasn't so bad after all.
Steam rolled off the water, lifted by the light breeze that rustled leaves and set chimes twinkling.
It was peace. You were exactly where you wanted to be, and certainly enjoyed it, but you couldn't deny you craved something just a little more. Something exciting.
“B-but sir! Please, wait!” The shrill, panicked voice of an attendant rang out just outside the door into the onsen and you whipped your head around just in time to see it slide open with a bang!
And behold, your husband.
Taking up nearly the entire doorway with nothing but a towel barely hanging on around his hips. So short the black rings inked on each thigh were visible.
It left you speechless, to see so much of him so bare. That he’d be brazen enough to walk right in on you so indecent. But you dipped quickly, putting your body underwater up to your neck and covering your breasts.
“What do you think you're doing in here?” You lifted your chin, dignity intact even as you hunched to maintain a shred of modesty.
Sukuna froze in the entrance, ruby eyes wide and stuck on you for a long moment until he finally broke and stepped into the room.
“Bathing. I believe it was you that requested me to, no?” He quirked a brow, bare feet slapping the stone as he walked toward the steps into the water.
The same attendant hurried in behind him, coming to crouch next to you. “Ma'am, your towel? Would you like to—”
“Leave us,” Sukuna dismissed her without a look, halted and about to get in.
You took the towel and muttered that you were fine, that she could go. She bowed low to you both and then that was it. You were alone.
Well, alone with your husband.
Who at least had the decency to go against tradition and leave the scrap of towel on and covering where thick black lines dipped low on his abdomen.
You studied each other for a moment. Your hands cupping your breasts and his crossed over his chest and planted on his hips.
You broke the stare first, turning to look out at the open scene and he started down the steps. He sank into the water and you watched from your periphery as he eased back, running a damp hand through his dusty pink mess of hair and rested two muscled arms on the stone ledge.
It was the first time you'd ever been alone with him, and you refused to look at him or speak first.
“I despise how they hover.” Sukuna's gruff voice cut through the silence and you did not look at him as you retorted.
“That is their duty. An attendant would not be properly fulfilling their role if they were not present when needed.”
Sukuna barked a laugh, “Well, you'd know all about that now, wouldn't you?”
Your head snapped to the side and you looked him right in the eye with brows furrowed. “What, exactly, is that supposed to mean?”
“Don't act oblivious now.” He tch'd, casting his gaze out at the view instead of you. “Stupidity does not suit you.”
You blinked. A few times. And despite the heat of the water, felt warmth race across your cheeks.
Was he really so callous?!
He caught your slight shock and smirked, “I assumed you'd be fleeing about now, is something the matter?”
“I will not be bullied out of my evening soak.” You huffed.
“Bullied?” Sukuna scoffed, “You've had quite a soft upbringing if this constitutes bullying in your eyes.” He could see your face twist, fire flickering in your eyes as he prodded you and all he could think was finally.
“You know nothing about me, so do not speak as if you do.” You almost sneered as you hissed it at him. Like he'd truly struck something.
And Sukuna was not one to back down when he struck a nerve.
“I know enough to know you're a sheltered, well mannered brat. If there is more than that, I have not seen it.” He said it like a challenge, like he was daring you to show him there was more.
He had no fucking idea what he was talking about. Sukuna was a brute, blood and dirt still under his dark fingernails from the havoc he likely wreaked just before coming to interrupt your evening.
So fast the water splashed the ledge, you snatched the towel and wrapped it around your body under the surface. It was flimsy and lewd, but better than your hands.
His eyes went wide, gripping the ledge as you rose to your feet. Waist deep in the water, the towel clung to your form and had him swallow visibly.
“You seem to have certain expectations of me, does it upset you that I have not met them?” Your head cocked, taking a step forward.
Sukuna did not waver on the outside, simply sneered, “I am no stranger to disappointment.”
Your eyes narrowed into a glare that threw daggers at him and god, he felt his heart skip a beat as you cut right back with, “Well, neither am I.”
The water rippled around you as you took step after step closer to him. “I never asked to be married off to the likes of you.”
“That makes two of us.” He shot right back, rising to his feet as you drew close enough to look down at him, making you tilt your head back a bit to keep your eyes on his.
They betrayed you though and flickered to his chest, following the black lines that cut down his abdomen. Water dripping from his bare body, the tiny scrap of a towel heavy on his hips, soaked and clinging to his muscled thighs.
God, why did he have to look like that?
“Brute.”
Surely you'd be the death of him.
“Prude.” His brow lifted like a dare and you stepped right up to the challenge.
“Whore.”
It surprised even you and as it left your lips you saw the shock hit Sukuna like a slap to the face.
Too far?
“Why you little—” He snarled, grabbing you at the waist with one hand, nails pressing in enough to make you gasp as he brought his face close and held you in place. “You dare to speak to me like that?”
“So all those women, you mean to tell me you keep them around for idle chatter? Please.” You scoffed and Sukuna lifted a brow, lips pulling into a slow smirk.
“What’s this? Is the brat jealous?”
You? Jealous? Pfft, ridiculous.
He wasn’t about to tell you that it had been weeks since he’d last even tried to be with another woman. That it disgusted him to even think of. That he couldn’t.
But here you were, right here in his grasp, trembling a little but not pulling away. A crinkle to your nose like he just caught you red handed. And that certainly stirred something in him.
“You… your—” You stammered a little and his smirk split into a grin. Sharp and gleaming. He could feel your heart racing away under his grip. A clear of your throat and you refitted the blades in your gaze. “Clearly, your delusion knows no bounds.”
“You’d think it delusion that a woman would be jealous of another bringing pleasure to her man?” He hummed, grip softening on your waist slightly just to slide down to your hip. Your lips parted and he could see your thighs squeeze under the surface as he stepped closer.
“Or maybe you like the thought.” He mused, so close you could feel the heat of his body and his breath on your skin as he laughed once, low and gruff. “Maybe you touch yourself at the thought of another woman bouncing on my cocks, screaming my name in ecstasy."
Wait… what?!
You had to have heard that wrong. Sure the brute had four arms but that would just be…
It took a moment to gather your thoughts and hiss a meek little, “Never.”
“Do you ever touch yourself?” He hummed again, dipping underwater to trace the edge of your towel, grazing bare skin and making you swallow. “Or are you too prudish for even that?”
You could just shove him away and storm off. In fact, why weren’t you doing exactly that?
Heart racing, you could feel your pulse between your legs, squeezed together as your belly tightened. His eyes bored into you like he knew exactly what was happening. How traitorous your body had become.
Lips parted and wavering, you hesitated to answer.
Sukuna Ryomen could always sense blood in the water, and he knew it was time to strike.
He moved, his face coming down so close to yours, but still out of reach. Thick fingers dragging over the bare skin of your thigh, he pressed up between your legs and sent a jolt of lightning ripping up your spine. You yelped and gripped his arm with both hands, but he didn't move. Just held pressure and studied how your face twisted and flushed.
“Tell me to stop,” He said, voice hoarse and quiet.
“S-s—ah! S… S-kuna,” You whimpered his name, clinging to his tattooed forearm. God he could feel you throbbing against his fingers and his cocks—already stiff, twitched. Ready to spear you on both and fill you with him until you sobbed.
“Yes, brat?”
You squirmed, eyes squeezing shut. What the hell was happening to you? “I… I can’t—”
“Look at the prude, coming undone and I haven't even done anything. Do you want more?” He rubbed a slow, tiny circle on your clit and your cunt clenched around nothing.
“Mmph—god,” You gasped, using his arm to support yourself.
“Use your words, brat. Ask me nicely, and I’ll make you see stars.”
The way he spoke to you, shit… you must have been out of your fucking mind. Or so horny you could barely stand. Either way, you pried your eyes open and met his.
“Please,” You whined, so filled with pressure you could hardly stand it and the word almost had him on his knees.
“Please what?” He held firm even as you glared weak little daggers at him, that fire burning behind your pretty, glazed eyes.
“Please,” You couldn’t believe the position you’d landed yourself in. You couldn’t believe just how good it felt… “Make me see stars.”
Restraint snapped with a low groan and his hands were on you. It was a blur and you could hardly keep track of how surrounded you felt. One slipping up into your hair, two squeezing down your sides and pulling at the towel—barely hanging on and about to give—
Ah, yep, there it goes.
Hit the water with a wet plap and you were left fully exposed.
His finger found your slick entrance and he pushed inside. Barely even half of it but your eyes went wide with how thick it was and you squeaked nonetheless, starting to protest but Sukuna shut you up.
He hefted you up like you were nothing, slotting your thighs around his hips and his own covering let go just the same as yours.
God how he was dying to use you, feel you squeeze around him like you did his finger. But you weren’t quite ready for that yet.
So he pulled your hair, tilting your head back as he brought his mouth down on yours, lips pressing yours open and delving in with his tongue.
The sound you made into his mouth, tongue tangled with his as you gave in and let your hand thread up into his hair, nails dug into his bicep, it was lewd and perfect and exactly what he craved.
“You're still a—ah—brute,” You panted between kisses, gasping as he squeezed your ass and spread your cheeks, grinding your bare pussy on his abdomen.
“You're leaking on me,” Sukuna growled, tugging harder at your hair. “Maybe you like that fact.”
Before you could protest, something wet squished against your pussy. You jerked with a gasp and started to squirm, but Sukuna had you trapped in his grasp and wasn't exactly keen on letting you go.
“Ah, you asked for this. Stars, remember?”
“Wha-what is that?” Your voice pitched as he held you against the thing flicking up on your twitching clit.
It felt amazing, electricity shooting through your limbs with every movement, but it was foreign. Big but softer, unlike how his hand had been.
“You like it, don’t you? Like riding on my tongue?” He nipped at your lip like it was obvious.
His tongue?
Your nose crinkled, “What are you—oh my—mmph!” His tongue thrust into your mouth again as his… uh… other tongue prodded at your hole.
Sukuna groaned into your mouth, tasting you—all of you. Legs pinned wide open for the wet muscle to work its way inside. Slick hitting the tastebuds making his eyes roll.
God you tasted fucking good. One taste and he was surely addicted, just like he was to your scent.
The feeling of it squirming and exploring deeper, licking up into your gummy walls as sharp teeth grazed your clit, it had you keening and bucking in his arms. The stretch was unreal, and had you struggling to breathe.
“Fuck…” He rasped, pulling back to watch as you writhed, brows knit and bitten lips pushed out in a sweet little pout. You looked perfect, you felt perfect, walls pulsing around the length squelching in and out.
He was fucking you with it, and you were on the verge, ready to explode from a white hot pressure filling your belly. Shit… this had to be a sin of some kind.
Sukuna tugged your hair, leaning you back and supporting your weight to give you both a full view of how he stretched you out. “Look at that. Poor little pussy can barely handle the whole thing.” He thrust that tongue in deep and curled and you cried out.
“Oh god! I-I can't—”
“Do it,” He commanded and whatever was holding the dam back, broke. Head thrown back, your chest heaved with a strangled noise erupting as you spasmed, nails raking down his arms.
As slick leaked into his maw, trembling in Sukuna’s grip as he groaned with the feeling, the taste of you coming undone, your fuzzy mind went…
Stars…
As you rode the last waves, he pulled out of your twitching pussy, giving your clit a flick and humming a laugh when you jolted.
“Well, where did all that attitude go? Speechless already, brat?” He mocked, watching your lashes flutter and eyes struggle to focus into a glare. On fire with a flush that raced across your cheeks and chest.
“Pu-put me down you fiend.” You huffed and pushed weakly at his chest and Sukuna barked a laugh. Grinning wicked and feral with gleaming canines and your tummy clenched all over again.
“No-no, I’m not done with you.” Your knees hit the hard stone as Sukuna sat back on the ledge, thighs spread over his, letting your weight drop into his lap and right onto his cocks, pushing your hips back to grind you against the thick lengths. The feeling had you choke on air and despite thinking he would destroy you if he stuck one in, god forbid both, your cunt throbbed and you were painfully aware of how empty you felt.
“Not even close, wife.”
this is for u @interlude-enternude <3 it was supposed to just be a drabble but i love us torturing suki too much :3 m. list | divider by @/kthice <3
\( ᐖ)/ heianera!sukuna vs. his hormonal and very pregnant wife
The sun has yet to tether itself at high-noon and you’re already stirring up your theatrics in his shrine. You—and your barefoot waddle on warm stone, one hand placed on your lower back, aiming to nest just weeks before you’re due—in all your swollen and golden glory.
You’re round. Much like the plums he’s feasting on as he watches you sort through dozens of silks rather than speak to him at lunch. You’re far more focused on scolding your attendants for failing to deliver your rather detailed orders.
The two of you can barely hold a conversation without you cursing him out these days. Sukuna has a temper, but you're somehow even more irrational than him now.
A groove is hooked between your eyebrows as you wave off each set displayed to you, dragging a new attendant in until you're satisfied.
“What difference does it make?” Sukuna randomly grumbles, wiping the cloying essence from his chin with the back of his hand. It’s already dessert and you’ve yet to address his presence. “The child will sleep perfectly fine no matter which haughty fabric you stuff him in.”
He’s not even sure why he’s riling you up and looking for a fight. Maybe a part of him enjoys the incessant banter. The twitch of your fist before it flies in his direction. The rasp of your voice when you’re testy.
“Our child will settle for nothing less than the best. Do you disagree, My Lord?”
The corner of his mouth twitches upwards at the honorifics. “Haven’t heard that name on your tongue since our wedding night, bird. Though, I recall it sounded far more sultry,” he purrs, head cocking slightly while he appraises you.
You know what’s rolling through his mind right now, given the slight wide and blown pupils. And you’re also aware of the look he gave you yesterday when the midwife offered… coital acts to induce labor.
Your attendant adjusts her stance uncomfortably as the mood shifts, the blood draining from her face.
You wave a hand in her direction, sighing and wiping the sweat from your forehead. You seem to work up a sweat in this condition simply by thinking. “Leave us, dear.”
She excuses herself, leaving you alone with the beast you call a husband. “Do my words mean nothing to you? How many times must I ask you to keep our private affairs private, especially in front of the staff?! Must you make a fool out of me?”
He shrugs lazily as you turn to him, reaching forward to pour himself a glass of water. “You forget this is my shrine.”
“And you forget I am your wife.”
You test him. Day in and day out. He tests you back.
But seeing you carry his offspring, your shoulders wound tight and a fury ablaze in your irises, makes him soften around the whetted edges. For you are carrying a maternal need to protect and serve what you are due to deliver. And he himself is growing to long to protect you. Even when you’re his rash and vexing wife.
“C’mere.” He leans backwards, eyelids sitting heavier. The heat is making him inattentive. Domestic.
You hesitate, fingers clenching the silk set in your hands. But after a beat, your shoulders fall and you hoist your heavy self over to him.
He doesn’t need to say anything for you to drop yourself in his four, bulky arms. He smells acrid. Iron-like. You used to detest it. But now you've grown to find comfort in it.
His lips ghost your hairline, calloused hands dragging over your womb and pulling you flush against him. “You have until the child is born.”
You hum, confused as you glance up at him. His crimson slits bore down at you.
Then, with all of this bodacious galore, he pinches your side.
“Once the child graces your arms, I will not tolerate such disobedience in my shrine.”
You stare at him. He stares at you.
A second later and a laugh suddenly unfurls from your gut—fuller sounding than you have in days. Sukuna thinks it fares much like a bird he encountered when south of his domain.
He scoffs as you bury your face into his chest, though you don’t miss the slight upward curve of his lip.
“Alright, Ryomen. I’ll let you have that.”
“Let me?” his incredously tone makes your gut dip, and you find your nose scrunching. “Since when have you let me do anything?”
“Since you let me marry you,” you teasingly bite back, straddling his hips. It’s not easy with your belly in the way, but his four arms hold you up so that you’re comfortable.
He looks at you, long and hard. Studying the soft jut of your lower lip and the perspiration beading across your features. His silent appraisal and contemplation never fails to make you flush and flounder.
“Enoughs enough,” you quickly interject his thoughts as you peel away from him, lifting to your feet and doing your best not to sway your weight. You’ve become top-heavy. Best to ensure you don’t fall for his seductive advances when you’re pliable like this. “There are affairs I must tend to.”
Sukuna pushes air through his nose, leaning back on two arms with an endearing gleam in his eyes. “My wife. The sweat.”
“Correction. The household head.”
Sukuna’s eyebrows raise in genuine surprise at that. “Head?”
You wave him off, already making your way past the shoji doors and chuckling to yourself.
The utter gall of you.
There has yet for a day to pass where you don’t surprise him.
yes i shall write heianera!sukuna and wife!reader beefing in every context possible….
You stared curiously at the peculiar muscle on your husband’s toned stomach, currently closed as he naps beneath you on his chaise lounge. One finger reaches forward, lightly tapping against the outline of the mouth before pulling back.
To your surprise, it opens, lips curling into a cocky grin before it starts… speaking?! Its voice is deep and matches Sukuna’s perfectly, large tongue flicking out.
“Curious, hm?” It drawls slowly, flashing the sharp canines that had been hidden just seconds ago. You lean over to the nearby table, pulling a strawberry from the box and holding it tentatively near the mouth.
“Do you eat food?” You asked, sounding a little stupid talking to your husband’s stomach.
It laughs lightly, lips spreading in amusement. “I do, woman. What do you have in mind? A finger? An arm?”
You grimace. “Ew. No, I have a strawberry.” You press the tip of the strawberry against the tongue, watching it pull the fruit from your grip and chew loudly, red juice staining the sharp teeth.
You watch mesmerised at the unusual body part, noting how expressive it was and how it still managed to work even when Sukuna himself was asleep.
“Do you want another?”
“Hm.” The mouth hums for a second before the tongue flicks out and presses down flat against your two fingers resting against his lower abdomen.
Hesitantly, you lift them, saliva coating your fingers as Sukuna’s mouth stomach sucks on them greedily as if trying taste their flavour. You’re sat in awe, entranced as lewd sucking sounds fills the room.
“Ngh-“ Ryomen grunts suddenly, arm lifting from over his eyes as they flicker open. Immediately, his mouth pulls away from your fingers, closing innocently and leaving you both dumbfounded and aroused.
ryomen sukuna secretly loves taking care of his sweet wife! 𑣲 .✦ ݁˖ ۶ৎ
modern-day sukuna x reader, fluff, he’s whipped (but tries not to show it), may be very ooc sorry😓 | wc 1.3k
you’re stood in the kitchen in sukuna’s hoodie, his worn black one that you stole borrowed as you finish off plating up dinner. you’re talking animatedly about your day as sukuna’s arms rest around your body, his chin resting on your shoulder and strands of spiky pink hair rubbing against your cheek as you speak.
“and in the second season they totally ruined the original plot — can you even believe that?”
he nods imperceptibly in silent confirmation, deep red eyes fixed on your soft hands, on each movement you make as you turn off the stove and pick up one of the plates. despite that, he stays fixed where he is, hands still clasped over the oversized hoodie you’re wearing, the fabric bunched up under his fingers.
you playfully nudged his cheek with your hand.
“ryo, i need to take this to the table.”
“mhmm.”
slowly, reluctantly, sukuna lets go, his hands leaving their spot on your stomach before he makes his way to the kitchen table. you slip into the seat across from him, placing the plates down in front of you and continuing your ramble.
“but anyway, since we’re starting with season one it’ll probably be fine! it’s my favourite series but also i never ended up watching the latest season so—”
you’re cut off by a piece of food held up to your mouth. you glance up to see red eyes boring into yours, features smooth, sukuna’s expression almost bordering stern if you really squint.
you pull your face back just slightly, meeting his almost bored-looking gaze, your lips parted and brows raised.
“…um…ryomen…?”
“eat. it’s getting cold.”
“oh…thank you! but..i can eat by myself too?”
he rolls his eyes, nudging the potato against your lip more insistently before you finally part your lips to accept it.
“..thanks, ryo.”
he mutters something under his breath about how you “can’t remember to take care of yourself on your own” before then gruffly prompting you to continue what you had been saying, occasionally reminding you to eat by putting a forkful of food to your mouth once more.
-
it’s also become a common habit for him to let you pick the movie you both watch each evening. you’re curled up on the sofa as usual, head propped against his shoulder, feet tucked under the blanket as you occasionally lean your head further into the fabric of his hoodie with a teasing grin, as though trying to test how much more you can intrude into his personal space (or by this point his lack thereof) before he finally snaps.
he lets out a tiny grunt, a sound you’d almost mistake for annoyance if it weren’t for the fact that he then leans imperceptibly towards you, lowering his shoulder a little to make it easier for you to rest your head on it without straining your neck.
you smile to yourself at that, sneaking a glance up at your husband’s face, observing the way his jaw is set tight and his eyes are fixed firmly forward in an attempt to avoid your teasing grin. he simply stays staring at the tv ahead, focus fixed on nothing in particular as he waits for you to avert your intent gaze.
after a few moments, he finally gives in to your constant staring, turning to face you before speaking, voice rough with fake-irritation: despite his gruff tone, his words are undeniably laced with the slightest undertone of fondness — almost imperceptible, but there nonetheless.
“are you gonna choose the movie already or not?” he mutters under his breath, voice harsh. despite that, its slight coarseness is undeniably softened a fraction when aimed towards you, making your heart twist a little in fondness.
“yep!” you flick through your options quickly before settling on your favourite cheesy 2000s movie as always.
he lets out a low scoff, unsurprised by the repetitiveness by now but amused regardless, lip curling into a small smirk as he studies the way you’re looking up at him, a bright smile on your face.
“….again? don’t you ever get sick of the same movie all the time?”
when you shake your head insistently, he simply inspects your features — eyes bright and eager, sweetly waiting for him to react — and then sighs, rolling his eyes before propping his arm around your shoulder, quietly accepting defeat. by now, he could probably quote each line word-for-word from rewatching this same movie every single week, but he sighs and fixes his attention on the opening scene nonetheless.
-
and on days when you’re unwell, he’s practically stuck to your side, though he absolutely denies it.
he spends the day basically hovering over you, trying to frame his obvious simmering concern as simple frustration towards your self-neglect.
“drink.” he taps the teacup before bringing it to your lips, eyes narrowing as you cough weakly once more.
“…tastes weird. and it’s too hot.” you stick out your tongue, wincing at the burning sensation. clearly, your husband didn’t think to let the tea cool down before serving you it, too busy and concerned — though he’d absolutely deny that fact if you asked him about it — to wait even a second for it to cool down.
he groans at your words, running a hand through his hair in frustration, spiky strands left messy and unkempt. his shoulders are slumped and his brows are furrowed just slightly, the usual sharp edges of his face blurred into something just a little bit softer. the sight of your usually composed husband — made up of his usual sharp features and his unforgiving scowl — now softened so drastically leaves you stifling a weak half-laugh.
he blows the tea quickly, actions rough and hasty.
“so picky. here, now drink.” once more the teacup meets your lips, him eyeing you wearily as you finally take a small sip.
he also decides not to mention the fact that he specifically looked up specific herbs to help soothe you.
-
20 minutes later, and you’ve practically glued yourself to him. you’re clinging to his arm, leaning into his warmth entirely.
“ryooo,” you whine, the side of your face smushed against his body and your eyes pressed shut. “i’m so cold!”
“…two seconds ago you said you were hot.”
he sits up, trying to escape your tight grasp on his arm to go retrieve the sweater and blanket he only just helped you take off, but instead you shake your head, your grip tightening impossibly more on his arm.
“no wait…don’t go.”
“so what do you want me to do?”
“…um…” you unweave your arms from his, pulling back and blinking with hazy eyes to try to make out his face through the blur of thick exhaustion. with much effort, you pry open his crossed arms, outstretching them for him before allowing yourself to slip into his grasp.
he pauses, momentarily stunned before letting a tiny, barely-visible smirk form on his face, his head lowering to press a quick kiss to the top of your hair whilst your face is pressed against his chest. it’s quick, barely there, as though he’s half-hoping it won’t be noticeable, hidden by the hazy state you’re in from your sickness and the dim lighting of the room around him. now, his actions are quieter, rawer in a way you don’t normally see from sukuna. his hand remains firmly fixed on the back of your head, keeping your face buried against his chest as though to prevent you from pulling back and seeing him in such a sappy state. what he doesn’t realise is that you’re already smiling into the fabric of his hoodie at his failed attempt at hiding his affection.
he stays like that for a few moments, as though contemplating what to say or do. his free hand, the one that isn’t currently burying your face into his hoodie, has absentmindedly stilled on your back, and he studies the way you’re curled up in his arms for a second before murmuring fondly.
“…brat. always getting what you want.”
when you finally weave your way out of his grasp just slightly and glance up at his face once more, you find that his gaze is averted once more, lips pressed tight and brows furrowed into a stoic, unimpressed expression.
you decide not to push for an answer, but you smile to yourself imperceptibly as you feel his grasp on you tighten just a fraction more.
author’s notes: thank you to the anon who requested a sukuna fic here, this is for you!! i chose to write about modern-day sukuna for the req i’m not sure if that’s what you wanted though!!
btw i hope this isn’t too ooc and i’m sorry if it is!!
taglist (thank you!!!): @nonchalantfiend @mayegasm @mochiakun @rielovesphel @yujismissingfingers @megumigooner @vanillaascented @megumisrighttoe @catgvrl @dreamydaredevil @stargumi @mariisagb @renrenrenren17 @bowiesprettieststar2 @733164 @palanggaaa @megssleepygirl @rengoatku @yujisdreamgirl @hangenism @nonamedreams @auryyymarix + join!
divider creds @dividers-are-us and @cursed-carmine!
you hate yuji's brother sukuna. but when he gets invited on vacation with your friend group, that hatred ends up shifting to something much more feral.
warnings: smut - mdni, rough sex, enemies to lovers, sukuna being a dick, fingering, creampie, overstimulation, man handling, dirty talk, praise/degradation, biting, drooling
nobara, yuji, yourself, and the rest of your friend group have spent the past several months planning out a vacation together.
it's the end of spring/early summer, and what better way to spend that transition of sweet summer air than to stay in a cute cabin for a week?
you and nobara spent days planning out your own personal itineraries together, focused on making sure that every day there had the fullest amount of satisfaction.
then you went to the mall to shop. so you got a few new swimsuits to swap between and some outfits for the trip as well. then she wanted to get her nails done too, so you went.
and now you're almost broke on the car ride to this cabin. it's a lengthy trip up to the lake where it is, but the rental has full privacy and after splitting the payment between the group it was really cheap.
nobara's in the driver's seat, fingers drumming against the steering wheel. you're almost there now, just a ten minute ride until the cabin will finally be in your sights.
"but yeah- they should already be up there. since we had to use yuji's name, he had to get there first."
you nod, "okay. sounds good."
when you finally pull up the pretty mountain, passing by large conifer trees and some random wild animals as they prance through their home, the cabin is so much bigger than you expected it to be.
but that's not what intrigues you. the sight of a certain car being parked in the drive is what makes you slowly turn to glare at nobara.
her face is paled, a certain look on her face. "listen, we-"
"really? you could have warned me." you snap.
you do not get along with yuji's older brother, sukuna. he's pushing 30 and seems to think that he can still behave like a teenager.
he's so obnoxious and cocky. thinks he's more important than everyone else.
and sadly… stupidly… hot.
apparently he's here too, judging by his car being parked right there.
as you guys pull up, the front door opens and yuji walks out with megumi and maki. and then behind them is sukuna. because of course he'd have to be seen.
you groan at the sight of him, clenching your jaw and forcing yourself to look like you don't care. "whatever… i wish you guys said something." you mumble.
"i- i know. i'm sorry." she frowns, "i thought you thought he was hot though?"
you deadpan at her. "just because he's hot doesn't mean i like him. he's awful."
the car shuts off and you just grab your bag that was up in the front with you and your halfway melted iced coffee, hopping out of the door and finally stretching your legs.
you yawn and stretch out, glancing around and locking eyes with maki. she also looks annoyed, so you're guessing she didn't know either.
thanks, nobara.
"took you guys long enough." she sighs, walking over to the car and helping grab some of yours and nobara's bags.
"hey guys." you say, smiling at yuji and megumi.
walking into the cabin with some bags in tow and your coffee barely hanging on in your grasp, your eyes wander around the interior. it's a large cabin, with a staircase that leads to an open upstairs where there's railings to overlook it all.
you walk up the stairs carefully, maki and megumi on your heels while you finally stop to look around. "my room?" you ask.
megumi just shrugs, "wherever you want. if you want, go to this one." he walks ahead of you and opens one of the doors, setting your bag down on the bed.
"thanks!" you smile at him. he nods and walks away, his footsteps disappearing down the staircase.
maki glances around. "my room is next to yours. and we can have nobara put her stuff on the other side of your room?" she asks.
you nod, "yeah… did you know that he got invited too?"
she shakes her head, shutting the door behind the two of you for more privacy. you set your bags down and your coffee, walking to the extra door and eyeing the view of the lake from the open balcony.
"truth be told, i expected it. choso got invited too, yuji wouldn't leave sukuna out."
rolling your eyes, you unpack a little bit then turn back to her. "who else will be here?"
"uhh, i don't actually know. i think it's just us?"
when you hear the obnoxious yell of satoru, you groan and shake your head. "why is he invited?"
"choso and yuji."
the two of you walk out of the room and you're immediately bombarded with the sight of sukuna coming out of the room next to yours. you glance at maki with furrowed eyebrows, and she looks just as confused.
he smirks when he sees you, stopping in his tracks to slowly look from your head down to your toes then back up. you glare at him. "the fuck are you staring at?"
"my neighbor for the week." he says, walking away.
you clench your jaw. "you've got to be joking. did he not unpack and find a room until now?" you whisper to maki.
downstairs is pure chaos, nobara leaving her bags on the floor abandoned to argue with satoru about something intensely. he's laughing at whatever she said, but he runs away when she starts to chase after him angrily.
yuji's too busy hugging choso to even try to stop it, and megumi looks like he wishes he came up with any excuse in the book to not be here anymore.
you just ignore all of them with a scoff, walking through the back of the house and onto the large deck you remember seeing online.
the hot tub is off to the right, overlooking a hill with more trees. it's a nice view. then there's the pool, and a grilling area with a table and chairs.
you inhale deeply, sighing contentedly at the scent of lilacs coming from one of the flowering bushes nearby.
"hey."
you glance over your shoulder to see choso, smiling at him. "hi."
he stands next to you, nodding while he looks around outside. "you guys picked a nice cabin."
"it was all nobara. she had a vision and then we somehow found it. i'm just beyond glad we did. i needed a break from life." you laugh, sighing heavily.
not that you're getting much of a break around these idiots…
"i'm sorry we invited sukuna without warning you." he says.
you glance over at him with wide eyes. very forward of him to just say that. "oh! nah dude don't even sweat it, it's not a big deal to me. we just don't like each other, but don't let that ruin vacation."
the door swings open behind the two of you, loud talking and laughter filling the backyard.
"did we interrupt something?"
you roll your eyes and stare sukuna down. "no."
"let's go to the lake and swim!" nobara screams, and you jump and look over to where she's standing. she has a manic look in her eyes while she points to the boat dock.
everyone heads inside and changes into swimsuits and grabs sunscreen and towels. you sigh heavily when you open your bag to see the skimpy bikinis you bought while daydreaming about the perfect tanlines.
now you're scared to be ogled at.
but you just shrug it off and put one of them on. fuck those guys, you're allowed to be comfortable and wear whatever you please.
you pull on a pair of shorts to cover up your bottoms and grab a towel, heading out of the room to meet with maki. you step out and glance around for her, walking over to that railing to see if she went down first.
you hear a low whistle, snapping around and glaring at sukuna.
he just smirks and winks at you, walking down the staircase wordlessly. you roll your eyes.
maki finally comes out of her room and the two of you head out, meeting with nobara and heading to the dock finally. the three of you talk about how nice it is outside, and you try your best to not think about him.
the dock burns your feet a bit from the sun beating down on the wood, but you still strip to your bikini and sit down to dip your feet in the water.
nobara dives in immediately, and you feel the wood rock in the water when yuji and the others sprint to jump off the edge.
maki slides off the dock and into the water, smiling up at you before swimming to nobara.
you lean back on your arms, sighing softly at the feeling of the sun on your skin.
then, a shadow looms over you. you pop your eyes open and frown, but it turns into a scowl when you see sukuna.
"get out of my way." you snap.
you can see something in his eyes that annoys you – a flash of obvious mischief cooking up. he just backs away and you side eye him.
you slowly pull your feet under a bit more until you're hanging off the edge a bit, calves in the water too.
and that's when you feel a sudden heavy push, yelping as you fall into the water and sink below. you hold your breath under the water, pushing your hair back while you resurface.
you can hear his laughter while you rub at your eyes a bit, glaring up at him without a word.
his eyes flicker down to your tits, squished together with droplets running down your soaked skin. he just licks his lips, walking away as if nothing happened in the first place.
you sigh and swim to nobara and maki, who are both glaring at sukuna.
"what a man child." nobara snaps.
you wave a hand in the air, shaking your head. "don't waste your energy. i won't."
"good thinking, maybe it'll make him get bored and fuck off." maki says, but you and everyone else here know that's not how this works.
you and sukuna have had this history for a long time. he pisses you off, you piss him off sometimes but mostly ignore him, then once there's a big fight over it… it just happens again a few weeks or months later.
you look over to the dock, and now it's your turn to eyeball him.
all of your focus drifts when he takes his shirt off, your eyes wandering his broad chest and the way his muscles flex. your mouth falls open for a moment, swallowing thickly.
you hate how hot he is. it's unfair.
your thighs press together under the water and you're quick to force yourself to look away, chewing on your lip.
maki and nobara are both staring at you, the anger towards him shifting into something else. they watch as he glances down at you, eyes wandering for way too long.
then he jumps at you, and it clicks for them.
he is so into you.
the swimming goes fine – he stops bugging you so much. then everyone chips in to help make a giant dinner, hanging out outside while eating and sipping at drinks for the evening.
by the time you go to bed, you sleep like a rock. tomorrow will be a better day: you, maki, and nobara planned a whole day out on the trails on the property.
nobody to harass you, or stare at your tits, or throw you into water.
you dress in some shorts and a crop top to head out for the day, walking out of your room and preparing to head downstairs for breakfast with the girls.
you eat with maki since nobara's not ready quite yet, talking about the trail and what food you'll pack up to bring. "hopefully she gets up soon…" you sigh, munching on a chunk of orange.
nobara finally comes down and eats too and you run off to the bathroom quickly, sighing when you walk out of the bathroom door and sukuna's already standing nearby.
"don't you look nice and pretty." he sneers, and you stiffen.
with a sharp inhale, you just drop it. he isn't worth the stress.
"i don't care." you say, walking away and heading in the direction of maki and nobara while they stand at the door and watch.
out of the corner of your eye, you see him still completely. he looks offended.
that's not your problem.
the walk outside with maki and nobara is fun and relaxing. you walk down trails for a while then stop at a clearing to finally sit and eat together. nobara pulls out the sandwiches and you set the blanket down.
when the three of you sit down to eat, it's quiet until nobara breaks the ice.
"so, what's going on between you and sukuna?" she asks, mouth full of sandwich.
you raise your eyebrows, "what do you mean?"
you look between the two of them, watching the way they share a knowing look before maki gently touches your hand. "you can tell us if you and him are seeing each other. we won't tell anyone."
"w-what?" you nearly choke on your food, "there's nothing to talk about. don't even…"
your face feels like it's on fire, embarrassment hitting hard when they see that look on your face and just raise their eyebrows. you can't believe they just asked that.
you frown at them, staring down at your food and suddenly losing your appetite.
"okay, our bad. i'm sorry." nobara says, "but you do… like him right? we totally see how you look at him-"
"nope!"
you just shake your head profusely, suddenly annoyed.
the rest of the afternoon goes by somewhat smoothly, but maki and nobara seem to be worried for your wellbeing after it all, especially when you head up to your room early before it's even dark out.
you're lying in bed on your phone watching tiktoks for a little while, but eventually you're just staring at the ceiling.
why did maki and nobara ask if you liked him anyways?
you just sigh and get out of bed, pushing the door to the balcony open and sitting down on the small chair. you stare out at the lake through the trees, the way that the orange hues are tucked beyond the horizon.
a small breeze flies through, soft buzz of insects and the steady croak of frogs out in the water.
you look around the balcony and a weird feeling crosses you when you see the door for his room leads to where you are now, another chair at the opposite end of the balcony.
you ignore it, glancing out.
you don't like sukuna.
you probably wouldn't say you hate him, but you don't like him. he's too… arrogant. and pushy. and mean. and hot.
your arms circle around your knees and pull upwards, folding into yourself while you hear the sound of everyone below the balcony talking and laughing.
a door pushes open and shut and you ignore the sound, just sighing.
"hiding from everyone?"
you nod your head limply, not looking at him.
the chair scrapes slowly in your direction until he sits down next to you, and it takes everything in you not to scream at him to just go away.
"you know, it's nice to be out here. with yuji."
you glance over and see him staring out at the lake, a beer bottle in hand. his eyebrows are furrowed as if he's thinking, or maybe reminiscing on something. he almost looks normal.
"yeah?" you say.
"he's a good kid. sometimes i guess it doesn't really hit me that he's grown until i see him with his friends."
you hum in response, looking back out towards the trees. "then you see him get shitfaced and babble about how much he loves all of us?" you giggle a bit at your words, a small smile sticking.
he laughs in a way you've never heard before, "yeah, usually. i'm glad he has you though– all of you. i mean."
heat rushes to your face and you glance over, gasping quietly. he's already looking at you, and his eyes flicker from yours to your lips repeatedly.
it makes your stomach tumble, tightness forming in your chest.
oh.
you stand up, chair screeching loud enough to quiet everyone below. "um, i'm gonna head to bed now- sorry." you mumble, tripping over your own feet while you open the door to your room and slam it shut.
leaning against the door, you fold your hands over your face.
okay. what the fuck just happened?
you groan into your hands and sigh, flopping onto the bed. why did he look at you like that… and why do you feel like this?
you do not sleep great at all after that.
it's 11am when you wake up, just getting to sleep at 4 in the morning.
not the worst sleep you've gotten.
maki and nobara come in with a sandwich for you to eat, asking you if you're feeling alright. after several bouts of reassurance, they believe you and stop nagging so hard.
"well… we actually had a purpose for our visit. we're planning on playing some games tonight. might do beer pong? card games too. and obviously we want you to join, instead of sneaking upstairs with sukuna." nobara winks.
you just give her a look, eyebrows furrowed. "i'm sorry?"
"we saw you." maki shrugs, "not a big deal. but we do want details."
"there are no details. because nothing happened."
they glance at one another, but stop bringing up the topic completely.
you spend a long time in the shower after they leave you be, staring at the wall and frowning deeply. what is going on with those two? you avoid sukuna like the plague for a reason.
but, last night was different.
something felt different between you and him. you actually laughed around him. and he was looking at you so… full of emotion.
by the time afternoon hits and everyone's gathered out on the patio, you're just confused. and what do normal people do when they're confused about a guy they might not dislike as much as they think they do?
drink.
you're sipping at a drink that satoru made for you. it's actually surprisingly good, some sparkling water mixed with a flavored vodka. not too much alcohol, either.
but he only made you the drink under the agreement that you and nobara will play against him and sukuna for beer pong at some point tonight.
the little fireplace is lit up and filling the patio with the scent of smoke and wood, the steady chirp of birds in the trees while you sit at one of the chairs outside. you're a little buzzed but in a better mood than you'd been this morning.
at least you aren't cold, either. the buzz definitely makes wearing a bikini more fun, not a lick of worry on your mind.
nobara's next to you, also sipping at a drink. but she's way more drunk than you, cheeks reddened and small giggles coming out at every interaction she has.
"beer pong? let's go play!" nobara slurs, grabbing onto your arm and forcing you up onto your feet. you just laugh at her, nodding and walking to where satoru and sukuna are standing.
satoru glances at nobara then back to you, pursing his lips and raising his eyebrows. you just nod slowly, acknowledging his wordless thoughts: nobara is absolutely sloshed.
"let's just do… you two versus sukuna." he says, "and i can be the judge."
you nod, eyes locking onto sukuna's. he just smirks and walks over to the opposite end of the table, you and nobara standing together.
"can't wait to watch you be a sore loser." he says, grabbing onto one of the pong balls and tossing it.
you roll your eyes when it lands in the cup, staring at him and taking the shot that satoru passes to you without hesitation.
you're next. you are so locked in on trying to make the shot that you almost forget that nobara's next to you until you hear her hiccup several times while leaning right into your ear.
but you make it into the cup, smiling at the sight. "yes!"
"just got lucky." he says, taking his shot.
you stare him down, watching him throw another ball and miss. "what's that about luck? clearly yours ran out."
he shakes his head, and your eyes wander lower while nobara prepares to throw next. just as she's about to toss, your eyes are locked in on his scarred hands… and the way he pushes the cups just subtly enough for nobara to miss.
you glare at him, pointing a finger in his direction. "i literally saw that. you just pushed the cups."
he just smirks, looking you up and down. "why are you staring at me so closely?"
you're taken aback, but clench your jaw and look down at your own hands for a moment.
he does, and when it bounces off of the rim and falls out onto the ground, he stares at you. "i saw that. now you're the one cheating."
you just give him a dirty look, shaking your head and preparing to be the one to throw again. you watch the cups closely, but you're more focused on him and making sure he doesn't try to ruin your throw.
when you throw, the table somehow shifts and it causes your ball to land just past the side of it.
your eyes narrow, glancing up at him and catching the way he's not even hiding it anymore. he just smirks.
ignoring the way your chest tightens, you glance to satoru to see if he's even attempting to be the judge he claimed he would be.
but instead, he's not even paying attention.
nobara isn't either, just babbling about something that has to do with maki, who isn't even nearby to listen.
it's just you and him now, somehow alone despite everyone else around you.
"you're insufferable." you say, watching when he throws and it lands in a cup.
you take a ball and throw it as well, staring him down and smirking when it lands in a cup perfectly.
"panic throwing, huh?" he crosses his arms, eyebrows raised.
your eyes glance over the way his biceps flex, swallowing thickly and just shaking your head. "just better than you."
he suddenly walks towards you and your eyes widen when he's walking to stand right next to you, staring wildly when he just shakes his head and mutters something under his breath.
"you haven't been throwing it right all evening. here."
you shiver at his words, breath warm against your ear. your skin prickles with pure electricity when he grips onto your wrist with one of his big hands, eyes barely staring down at the sight.
this feels like a dream.
he directs your hands, wordlessly moving your fingers around. you don't know what to say or do, only focused on the warmth of his chest so close to your back.
"i-i'm fine." you say, but your voice is suddenly more quiet than you like.
he just lets out a huff of air, his hand leaving yours while you inhale sharply.
you toss the ball and sigh when it lands in perfectly, turning to look at him and suddenly feeling way too close to him. you're glancing up to meet his eyes, chest heaving at the proximity.
satoru clears his throat and you jump, sudden awareness hitting hard.
everyone's still talking, for the most part. but satoru's glancing at you and sukuna as if he knows something you don't now.
you sigh, taking a deep breath while sukuna walks back over to his side of the table. satoru just hands both of you shots, finally playing the judge. one look at nobara and he knows better than to give her any, luckily.
she's staring at you with a lopsided smile, giggling when your eyes clamp shut at the burn of alcohol when you swallow.
"my turn!" she says, throwing her ball.
and shockingly enough, it actually makes it in.
you and sukuna both stare at each other in shock, both equally astounded that in her drunken state she managed to get a ball in that easily.
"GET A ROOM ALREADY, GEEZ!"
nobara shouts so loud it echoes, everyone going dead silent. the only sound that remains is the call of insects and music playing quietly.
then they all laugh.
you frown deeply, glancing around and really, truly reaching your limit.
you slam your drink down onto the table and walk off, fists clenched. "you guys are fucking annoying."
the glass door slams open, then shut. you walk upstairs, a shaky breath coming out while you try not to actually scream.
someone else comes inside – probably maki checking on you.
but you don't care, continuing up the staircase and heading down the hall to where your room is.
the heavy weight of the footsteps causes your blood to boil, the final cherry on top. you know it's sukuna.
you stand near your bed, not even knowing what to do anymore. you try to take deep breaths, to name five things you see around you, to check your god damn phone. nothing helps the anger and the aching in your chest.
you hear his footsteps approach from behind you, hands shaking.
the wooden doorframe creaks quietly, as if he's leaning against it. you turn and glance at him, jaw clenching at the sight.
"go."
his arms are crossed while he leans there, eyebrows furrowed as he stares at you standing there angrily.
why does he look so fucking cocky?
it's infuriating.
"go. away." you say as calmly as possible, voice wavering.
"no."
you groan aloud, nails digging into your palms as you fully turn around. "stop standing there staring and say something that actually means something." you start walking forward towards him.
he doesn't reply.
your voice raises, "why do you do this? you get off on pissing me off or something?"
you stare up at him when you get close enough, a finger slamming against his chest while you glare. "you have been driving me fucking crazy for years. i hate how much i fucking think about you."
his eyes aren't even on yours. he's staring at your tits, then flickering to your lips. there's no emotion that's readable on him.
he's too focused on the way your chest heaves and your lips purse to even process what words come out of your mouth.
"stop fucking staring at my tits and look at me, sukuna. look at me!"
"been trying real fuckin' hard not to."
you hate how your body reacts to his voice, the way your stomach flips. the way that despite your anger, all you can think about right now is how the weight of him on you would feel.
his eyes flicker upwards to meet yours and it just makes you see red. "don't you dare look at me like that."
like he's starved for something neither of you can admit to wanting. like he craves you in more ways than anyone could ever possibly know.
you give in to every single tiny thought that forces itself into your brain, breath shaky as you look at his lips for just a moment. and your regret is consuming you, the way your jaw clenches and you have to turn your head away from him.
"like what?"
you sigh, exasperated. "you know what you're doing. don't play stupid, i can't do this anymore. this… back and forth childish bullshit. it's exhausting."
he doesn't say anything, just staring at you with something you don't understand in his eyes. he looks too calm compared to you, blank stare that just makes you embarrassed.
did you imagine him being anything other than a dick?
"please… say something. i-i thought that maybe you felt something t-"
you gasp when he kisses you hard, his hands gripping your hips with so much roughness your bones ache.
you forget about the door being open.
you're lost in his kiss, the way he tastes of whiskey and smells like sunscreen and cologne. his hands slide all over you, as if he's been waiting to touch you for so long he's trying to burn it into his own memory.
one of them grips onto your hair, tugging your head back to kiss you harder.
you're a whining mess from his touch alone, small noises coming out that might make you feel embarrassed if you weren't so pent up from him.
the wood groans beneath his weight when he pulls you in closer, your tits squished against him while your tongues collide. he's rough, but not so much it hurts.
just enough to make you melt into him, pure unadulterated lust taking over.
the weight that lifts off of your chest – years worth of build up – all combusts into nothing.
that's enough to make you go desperate, your hips helplessly twitching while you try to force yourself closer to him somehow.
he lets go of your hair, hands reaching down and bracing behind your thighs before he's pulling you up. your arms wrap around his neck, legs around his waist while you gasp into his mouth.
he carries you into the room, a foot slamming the door shut so hard the walls rattle.
you're suddenly dropped, landing onto the bed with a gasp while he immediately hovers and kisses you again, pinning your hands above your head.
you can hear the distant thud of something outside falling and loud laughter, shaking underneath him while his tongue thrashes against yours in a delicious rhythm.
your hips twitch, grinding upwards desperately.
he grunts into your mouth, slowly rolling down against you. you can feel the bulge of his cock press into you, thick and unbelievably hard.
you whimper at the feeling when he presses down harder, the friction just enough to stimulate your clit. your eyes roll back, teeth sinking onto his bottom lip and pulling.
his fingernails dig into your skin, a growl coming out.
he pulls back, pupils blown out as he stares down at you. "can't hold back anymore…"
he looks like he's ready to tear you apart, heavy weight of his hips forcing you to be pinned to the mattress. you can hear more laughter and then water splashing vaguely, but you're head is too clouded to really focus.
one of his hands trails down your neck to your chest, sending shivers down your spine.
you whine when his fingers graze over your nipples through your bikini top.
he reaches for the string that's tied behind your neck, pulling it loose and forcing the fabric down to expose your tits. they spill out into the cool air, nipples hardening.
his eyes flicker down and he licks his lips, breathing out heavily while he starts kneading them with his big, rough hands.
you whine out at the feeling of his callouses brushing against your nipples, eyebrows knitting together and head tossing back into the mattress.
he watches with a predatory gaze, his thumbs rhythmically grazing over your sensitive nipples until you’re arching off the mattress. every single inch of you is a victim to his stare, and he can't seem to look away.
his palms trail down your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake until he's grazing where your shorts sit on your hips.
neither of you speak, just the sound of heavy breaths as his thumbs hook into your shorts and slowly tug down. you lift your hips as he pulls, the fabric sliding off and dropping to the floor.
he stares down at the wet patch that's formed on your bikini bottoms and smirks, pressing his thumb into it hard. "all wet over nothing."
you whine when he starts rubbing circles into the fabric, hips sputtering against his touch. his other hand pushes down against your pubic bone, forcing you to stay still.
he watches closely as your eyes roll back, a gasped moan echoing off of the walls while he rubs your clit.
"wish i did this sooner." he mutters, hand sliding into your bottoms and down your slit.
the moment he feels how wet you really are, he lets out a grunt of approval. then he slides two thick fingers into your hole, stretching your pussy out enough to make your jaw drop.
his thumb presses into your clit while he finger fucks you, the sound of your slick squelching while his thumb grinds lazily against you.
he hits somewhere in you that you've never felt before, a loud whine passing your lips that makes him flinch and move his free hand to cover up your mouth. "quiet." he hisses, "or someone will hear us."
you nod frantically against his hand, toes curling when he keeps nudging that same spot with the pads of his fingers.
you're already so close, drool gathering against his palm while your peak barrels at you.
he doesn’t let up, his fingers curling inside you to find that sensitive ridge again and again until you’re shaking beneath him. you're just teetering on the edge, hips grinding up to meet every movement until you finally cum hard.
your eyes clamp shut, back arching into the air as he starts rubbing harsh circles against your clit. "fuck-" you whine into his hand, pure euphoria hitting you.
he doesn't stop until you start crying, fat tears rolling down your cheeks while he works you through it.
you're a sputtering mess beneath him, teary eyes blurring your vision while you look at him.
"think you can handle it now…" he mumbles, his fingers leaving your pussy pulsing around nothing while he stands to take his clothes off.
when he finally reaches his boxers and tugs them down, you're breathless. you knew he'd be big – but this? you're almost afraid.
he isn't just long, but almost scarily thick too.
your eyes are wide as you stare at it, suddenly sobered up at the sight of his cock alone. it twitches under your gaze, heavy and throbbing.
his hand wraps around it and it really hits you then. his hands somehow look small in comparison. you bite down on your bottom lip, eyes meeting his again. he just tilts his head at you, feigning ignorance.
"something wrong?"
you shake your head, swallowing thickly when he climbs into bed with you. you're nervous now, breathing somehow picking up even more as he adjusts your body.
you get on your hands and knees, back arching and anticipating the graze of his cock.
the mattress dips under his weight, the creak of the wood sounding like a warning as he settles behind you.
you’re trembling, palms flat against the duvet, head hanging low as you try to catch your breath.
you're fucking terrified. not just over the fact that this is really happening, but also at how big he is. you should've known…
"you ready f'me?" he breathes, body heat intense as he presses against you. you nod, not trusting yourself to even speak.
you gasp when the tip brushes against your folds, gathering some of your wetness and rubbing up and down your slit. your teeth sink into your bottom lip, a strangled moan coming out.
he pushes just the tip in and your mouth falls open, eyes rolling back.
it almost hurts how big he is, each heavy inch of him stretching your pussy out in ways you've never felt before.
nobody else could ever dream of comparing to this – to him.
your pussy throbs around his length, dull ache growing as he slowly buries himself into you.
his hands come down to grip your hips, thumbs digging into the soft flesh of your waist as he anchors you in place. you're shaking, head bowed low, watching the way your hands tremble.
"breathe. you need to relax." he whispers, but when he suddenly pushes in further you can't help the way your breath hitches.
you're whimpering now, a high, needy sound that bounces off the cabin walls, and you can only hope the music downstairs is loud enough to drown it out.
he's so fucking thick it's dizzying, and when he bottoms out you're grateful that it doesn't hurt you. because it just barely misses the mark of it, the tip nestling in somewhere that has you seeing stars.
your back arches, ass pressing back until you slam into his hips and thighs, his fingernails digging into the fat of your hips.
"fuck," he groans, the word sounding like it's taking all of his energy as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, "you're so fucking tight. i can't-"
he thrusts forward, interrupting himself.
his teeth sink into your skin and your arms collapse, ass still up in the air while you suck in a breath. the feeling of his bite has your pussy clenching around him, a small groan passing his lips while he starts a brutal pace.
the bedframe slams into the wall rhythmically, a steady thud that bounces off of the walls.
but it's not enough to cover the whimpers that pass your lips, each noise growing louder and louder as it's forced out of you from each deep thrust.
"fuck, sukuna–" you gasp, your voice breaking as he hits that spot again, the force of him sending waves of heat through your lower stomach.
he reaches forward, grabbing onto your arms and forcing them behind your back. he holds onto them, lifting your body up off of the bed while holding your hands to fuck into you harder.
his sweat coated chest presses against you, a steady heat that clashes with how cold your nipples feel.
"i-it's so good- i can't-" you whine out, tears filling your eyes again.
he somehow starts moving faster, "but you take it so fucking good for me. such a good girl."
you moan at the praise, your head lolling back into his shoulder. the sound of skin slapping against skin is almost too loud, too much, and too obvious to anyone that could hear it.
he slams your body down into the pillows, one hand holding your head down while the other keeps your hands pressed into the small of your back painfully.
you squeal at the sudden change, the angle hitting somewhere else entirely.
"didn't i tell you to be quiet?" he snaps, voice raspy, "y'want me to stop? or y'wanna get caught?"
you shake your head frantically, crying out when he pushes his weight against you hard.
the thought of the others hearing you makes your pussy twitch and tighten around him even more. it's a sick thrill, the danger of it making every deep, punishing thrust feel twice as heavy.
he lets go of your hands, but only so he can reach around and find your clit again, his thumb grinding into you with a frantic, punishing speed.
"you're so wet for me it’s pathetic," he chuckles, the vibration of his voice hitting your spine. "just needed to be fucked by a real man, huh? that's why you were such a bitch."
you whimper at his words, crying out into the pillow.
you're so close to cumming again it hurts, clit throbbing beneath his touch.
"pretended to hate me just 'cause you couldn't cope with wanting to fuck me, huh?" you just nod your head into the pillows, screaming into them when you cum again.
his thumb grinds into your slick clit even as your walls are spasming and clenching around him desperately, hips still slamming into yours.
he lets out a half laugh, breathless while he moves his hand back to your hip to focus on his own orgasm. "so fucking loud."
his hands hurt you when he tilts your hips at a different angle, hitting in deeper to the point where it almost hurts. you can barely form even a thought right now, too fucked out and overwhelmed.
"bet you love this. being handled like this, fucked stupid. such a dumb little slut."
you whimper at his words, clenching around him. drool spills out of your mouth and onto the pillows, the sound of your sobbing pussy echoing out in loud wet sounds.
every time he thrusts particularly deep, the headboard cracks into the wall loud enough to make you flinch.
his thrusts are growing more sloppy with each heavy motion, closer to finally cumming himself.
he grips your hips so hard it aches, most definitely leaving bruises in the morning. "fuck- 'm gonna-"
he only manages four heavy, deep strokes before he stills balls deep in you.
you can feel every single spurt of his cum while his hips jerk, a visceral growl/groan passing his lips while he cums inside you.
both of you take a while to catch your breaths, the sound of everyone else outside now becoming the main source of sound once again.
by the time he slides out of you, you collapse down onto the bed and lie there silently. "you good?" he asks.
you just nod, breath still shaky.
he moves from behind you, footsteps pattering around the room. you hear him slide his boxers on, then the door opens.
your heart drops – did he leave?
but then it clicks open again, a deep breath coming from him as he walks over to you and starts gently cleaning you up. the softness and sincerity of his movements makes your stomach flutter, turning around to face him.
your eyes trail over him; his tattoos, the way his muscles flex as he cleans you. it's so… not what you were expecting. in the best possible way.
the two of you fall asleep, but you're not even sure when. you wake up at 2am to his arms wrapped around you tightly, a small smile forming on your face despite it all.
by the time you get up in the morning, sunlight's peeking through the curtains. you yawn and stretch a bit, feeling a large arm tighten its grip against you.
"no…" sukuna mumbles, his voice much deeper in the morning than how it usually is.
you giggle a bit, shaking him off of you. "no to what? i'm hungry, i'm getting up."
he sighs and opens his eyes, glancing over at you. you can't help but stop in your tracks, eyes wide. he looks so good right now, sprawled out on the bed like that.
you climb out of bed and tug a random shirt on, walking over to the mirror and attempting to make yourself look at least somewhat normal for breakfast. but it's a bit hard with the marks left on you.
you try your best to hide the only obvious one, the bite mark that sits at the bottom of your neck and shoulder.
by the time you're done, he's up too.
"you ready?"
you nod.
the door opens and you smell coffee and syrup, inhaling deeply.
when you get downstairs, everyone's doing their own thing. eating food, sipping coffee, scrolling on their phones – until they see you and sukuna.
then it's… uncomfortable.
nobara's eyes flicker to the spot you tried so hard to cover up and block, a small smirk on her face. maki looks like she's disappointed but not surprised by any of it, and the others seem to be dumbfounded.
except for satoru. "good morning, you two! guess it's an extra good one, huh?"
you raise your eyebrows. "uh, what?"
"they heard us." sukuna shrugs, walking past you and to the fridge without an ounce of care.
you freeze, eyes wide as you glance around. "what?"
nobara rolls her eyes. "no, satoru heard you guys. we just know about it."
You squinted your eyes at the bouquet of flowers presented before you, sunflowers and daffodils tucked between sea of luscious green leaves.
"What's this?" You reach for the bouquet, sceptically taking it into your arms, before inviting Sukuna inside your apartment, still lingering by the door despite him making himself comfortable on your couch.
"Got you flowers," He answered lazily, rolling his head to look back at you, cheeks dusted with a pink hue, sleeves folded at his elbows showing off his sculpted arms.
If you squinted hard enough his entire head would look like a pink blob.
"Why?" You place the bouquet on your dining table, keeping in mind to grab a vase for them nonetheless, "Please don't tell me you are following some wikihow article on how to woo a girl."
"I am not that dumb." He turns toward you, your poor couch creaking under the shift of his weight, "I know about this... stuff." He gestured vaguely with his hand, waving it around.
"You know, the flowers aren't going to add any extra points for your case." You shrugged your shoulders, splaying your fingers out to admire your newly done nails, making a show of how nonchalant you are regarding him.
"Don't need them anyways," He folded his arms, meeting your eyes in a challenge, "I did say I will prove myself to you anyways."
He stood up, holding his hand out towards you, grinned cheekily when you took his hand and let him guide you towards the couch.
"Sit down." He ordered, watching as you did so, crossing one leg over the other, ready to question his intentions, "Not like this, uncross them, I am going to eat you out."
He patted your thigh, proceeding to kneel before you, hunched awkwardly to accommodate himself between your legs, head ducking down to align his face with your crotch.
He nudged your legs further apart, hands cradling the back of your knees to pull your legs over his shoulder, "Let 'em hang on me completely." He hummed, pressing a kiss along the skin of your thighs.
You scooted closer, ass barely on the couch anymore, involuntarily pushing your clothed cunt into his face.
"Fuck." He hissed, nose bumping against the gusset of your panties, "Did you shower today?" He asked pulling back to meet your eyes.
You scrunched your face, swaying your leg slightly to hit the side of his head, "Who the face asks that during head, move asshol—"
"Oi!" He huffed, wrapping his hands around the fat of your thighs, pulling the taut, "I want your used panties as a souvenir." He announced, shaking his head in disappointing, "Can even have good things anymore."
You tsked, crossing your arms over your chest, obscuring his view of your face, loser.
"Fucking brat." He grinned, nipping at your skin, chuckle escaping his lips as you tried to pull his closer to your cunt, knees nudging the back of his head. "Need something, baby?"
"I am deducting 3 points for the teasing."
He sighed, leaning forward and nuzzling the tip of his nose against your clothed pussy, taking in a big whiff of your musky scent, palms squeezing your ass and pulling you further into his face.
Peppering kisses along the fabric, nudging his nose against the wet patch before curling his fingers around the elastic band and tugging them off your legs, leaving you bare before him.
He pressed a wet kiss against your clit, tongue flicking out for a taste, before he traced mindless shapes along your entrance, taking his sweet time as you withered under him impatiently.
You sighed softly, melting into the mattress as he slowly worked your pussy, moaning and groaning against your grooling entrance, truly lost in the sause.
He pulled away to ask, "Think you could add one point for this?" Before leaning down and wrapping his lips around your clit, hollowing his cheeks to suck on your bud, alternating with quick flicks of his tongue.
You moan, loud and guttural, hands cradled in his hairs, thighs parted obscenely wide as you ground your cunt on his face, rubbing your twitching clit all over his face, uncaring where your slick smeared.
Sukuna groaned against you, sending vibrations up your spine, suddenly pushing you over the edge as stars danced in your vision and clear liquid gushed out of your pussy, soaking him enough to drench the collar of his shirt.
He ate it up eagerly, eyes closed shut in utter bliss.
Your brows furrowed, lips parted as you peeked down at him, his face glossy from your slick, cheeks flushed red, head squished between your plush thighs.
He looked dazed, eyes hooded as his lapped you your juices, going as far as licking the fabric of the couch when your slick dripped down.
"You can—you can stop now." You protested weakly, pressing your foot flat against his forehead and pushing him away, awkwardly scrambling off the couch onto unsteady legs.
"Want me to carry you upstairs?" He asked, already coming to stand behind you, hands wiped dry on his pants before they are placed on your back.
You rolled your eyes at him, before sighing and tossing your arm around his neck, feeling utterly weightless as he hauled you up effortlessly.
"You want something to eat or maybe water?" He rambled, voice steady and smooth despite carrying you across the hallway, his words making you feel all mushy and warm, "I'll get you water, do you want to shower too, I'll get—"
"Penis." You cut off his rambling, eyes focused on the door of your bedroom, blaming the warmth blooming on your cheeks on the orgasm you just had, "I want dick Sukuna, preferably yours at the momen—"
"You want me?!" He grinned, flexing his arm to pull you closer, hand shifting to tuck your neck towards his chest as he entered your bedroom, "Told you I am good, the best for you."
you wake up in the middle of the night to find Sukuna still gaming
You wake around two to a cold patch of mattress where Sukuna should be, and to the soft, blue-toned glow spilling from under the gaming room door. The silence in the apartment at night is heavy, broken only by the faint click of a mechanical keyboard and the low, muffled chatter of your husband and the boys through his headset.
Wrapping your duvet around your shoulders like a cocoon, you shuffle down the hallway, your eyes half-mast and your hair a bird's nest of sleep. You push the door open just a crack.
Sukuna leans forward, his massive frame silhouetted against his setup. He’s mid-match, fully focused, but the second the hinges creak, his head snaps toward the door.
As he takes in the sight of you, swaddled in fabric and swaying slightly from lingering sleep, the intensity he had for the game vanishes instantly. His lips pull into a small, helpless smile as his expression softens into unguarded love. He looks utterly defeated by the sight of his sleepy wife, and he doesn’t even try to hide it.
"Hey, angel,” he whispers. Without waiting for you to speak, he pushes his chair back from the desk and reaches out with one arm, beckoning you over. "Come here."
Hauling you into his lap easily, he settles you sideways across his thighs before carefully tucking the edges of the duvet around your feet. You don't even have to find your spot; you lean into him naturally, your head resting against his chest. The sound of his heartbeat is steady and strong under your ear, acting as the perfect lullaby.
He slides his headset back on, but his movements change. He’s playing at a disadvantage now, having to reach around you to hit the keys, but he doesn’t seem to care. Every now and then, his large hand mindlessly rubs your arm through the blanket in a soothing motion that pulls you back toward sleep.
Through the faint leak from his headphones, Satoru’s shouts crackle, but the volume is suddenly cut in half by Sukuna so the boys’ voices don’t startle you. He stops talking back to them altogether, communicating only in short, quiet grunts or silent pings on the map.
He finishes the match without moving even an inch, letting you breathe against him, his chest rising and falling in time with yours.
The lobby music hums at a low, nearly imperceptible level as Sukuna waits for the next match to load. Satoru is midway through a loud story about a botched order at the bakery, Suguru openly mocks the white-haired man, and Choso offers dry commentary in the background. Sukuna barely hears them, tuning them out almost entirely, keeping his attention fixed on the weight of you in his lap.
Looking down, he notices your breathing has finally slowed into true sleep. A heavy, quiet warmth settles in his chest, leaving him completely undone by the simple reality that you’re his.
Sukuna reaches out with his free hand, and his thick fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face with surprising gentleness. He tucks it behind your ear, his thumb lingering for a second to graze the shell of it, amused by how you don’t even stir under his touch. In moments like these, he knows exactly how lucky he is.
His hand slides further down, slipping beneath the edge of the blanket to find the small of your back. Blunt nails trace the slow patterns you love as he gently scratches. He feels you melt further against him in your sleep, your body relaxing into his warmth as if you’re subconsciously acknowledging his care.
Even as the game finally finds a match and the loading screen flashes, he doesn’t pull his hand away. He keeps that steady, soothing motion going, his gaze lingering on your peaceful face for a moment longer before he finally turns his attention back to the monitors.
After another game like that, the clicking stops, but you’re sleeping too deeply to notice the difference. Sukuna doesn’t wake you, gently hooking one arm under your knees and the other behind your back, then standing up from the gaming chair effortlessly.
When he reaches the bed, he lowers his massive frame onto the sheets, keeping you tucked firmly against his chest. He pulls the heavy comforter over both of you, wraps his arm around your waist, and presses a slow, lingering kiss to the top of your hair.
"Softie," you mumble into his chest, barely conscious.
There’s no point in denying it, so he lets out a long exhale, rolling his eyes, his hand splayed flat against your back to keep you close. He hooks one of his thick legs over yours, tangling your bodies together, and the heat coming off him makes the rest of the cold room disappear.
"Go to sleep, brat," he mutters back, his voice thick with tenderness.
He gives your waist one last, gentle squeeze before he finally closes his eyes and lets his own exhaustion take over, his grip never loosening even as he falls into a deep sleep.
a/n: domestic sukuna masterlist
@i-luv-mangos i know this isn't what you actually asked for, but since i already had this started, i thought maybe it would work lmao
part 2 to: frat! sukuna is interested in the cute girl in his friends lecture
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who has been showing up to his friend's class every day to see you
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who spends his free time wandering campus to try and find you
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who figures out where you like to study, where you hangout with your friends, what you usually get from the coffee shop
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who keeps getting told by his friends that he's being "a fucking weirdo"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who has a note on his phone on how he can ask you out, or at least tell you that you're the prettiest girl he's ever seen
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who is used to calling girls "hot" and "sexy", but with you, the only thing he sees is pure, heart-stopping, mesmerizing beauty
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who finally grows a pair one day, about 2 months after seeing you for the first time
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who comes up to you after your lecture, palms sweaty and cheeks dusted with pink, nothing like the usual confident and cocky man
»-♡→ frat! sukuna, who, from an outside perspective, looks like an intimidating, asshole of a frat guy
"uh, excuse me."
you pause in the exit of the door, turning around to see who said that. when you see the 6'3" frat boy, clad in a black muscle tee, you think there's no way it was him who called you. but when you turn to leave again, you hear them say "excuse me," again. when you turn around, the only person left there is him. this pink haired, tattooed (may i add sexy), man.
"um, yes?"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who has never heard two sweeter words in his life, and it takes him a moment to respond back, especially with the way you're staring at him in confusion, eyes wide and lashes fluttering
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who extends a large hand to you, "the names ryomen"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who watches shock pass your features, and then a subtle curiosity. you extend your own hand out, dainty and decorated with cute nails and rings. when your hand fits into his for a hand shake, it's so soft he doesn't want to let go
"y/n".
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who swears that's the prettiest name he's ever heard
"can i help you?"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who wants to say "yes, help me, please help me," but in reality he freezes, regaining barely half of his composure with a sharp exhale and a hand through his hair
"was just wonderin' if i could get your instagram or somethin.' "
»-♡→ frat! sukuna watches your eyes slightly widen, your body language suddenly turning nervous
"if you're okay with that... of course, i've just been noticing you for a while, that's all."
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who watches a soft smile spread across your features, your eyes crinkling slightly
"yea, why not?"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who loves winning, and feels like the biggest winner right now
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who watches you type your username into his phone,and wave him a soft goodbye and "see you around, ryomen"
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who repeats the way his name sounded on your tongue a million times for the rest of the day
»-♡→ frat! sukuna who now just has to build up the courage to send you a message, send his sweet and gorgeous crush a message