thank you so much for writing for valko!! we’re fighting to keep him alive 🥺 will you still write for him? i know it’s difficult since we don’t have much content of his to go off, but i think you captured the character we all had in our heads perfectly!! <3
Hello my sweet little love bug (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡ I appreciate your kind words xoxo! I fell head over heels for Valko the very moment he was announced, and like so many of us… my heart aches more than I can say ʚ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ɞ. His flower is Lily of the valley toooo which is a flower my family has grown in our gardens for years!
Please, please keep fighting for our sweet pup, because I know in my soul he would move mountains and face anything to protect us!!! I will be continuing to write for him, and only him when it comes to LADS. He became such a gentle comfort to me in those fleeting, precious moments we shared… and that feeling? It just felt right ♡ ♡
୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.
“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“
Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.
A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.
“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“
He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.
“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.
His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.
“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.
You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.
“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…
“Valko- can't- no more-“
His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“
Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.
Then something big started pressing at your entrance.
You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-
His knot.
It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.
“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”
“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.
“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”
“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“
“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”
You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.
“Valko.”
He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!
“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”
“YEAH.”
“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.
“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“
“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”
You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.
He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.
“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“
He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.
“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…
“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“
“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.
Still absolutely clueless.
Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.
“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Mm.”
“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”
“I hate you.”
“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”
Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“
“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”
“I never said-“
“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“
“I do NOT sound like that.”
“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”
You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.
“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.
“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”
“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”
His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.
୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna's eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.
"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.
He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.
Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.
"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.
"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.
Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.
"Sukuna..., tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.
His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.
Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."
Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.
"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.
Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.
He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."
Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."
"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.
୨୧ — Sukuna leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his daughter carefully water each plant with the child sized watering can she'd insisted on bringing. At least she was focused on something, giving him a moment of peace.
Raising a kid was exhausting in ways that even running his territory wasn't. At least with his men, fear was a reliable motivator. His daughter, unfortunately, had inherited his utter lack and complete disregard for authority- a combination that was aging him prematurely…
The moment of relative calm shattered when she finished tending her sunflowers, and without warning, bolted toward the playground equipment.
"Oi!" Sukuna called after her, pushing off from the tree with an irritated grunt.
Either she didn't hear him or -more likely- was selectively deaf when it suited her... She scrambled up the ladder to the tallest slide structure with the agility of a monkey, her ponytail bouncing with each movement.
By the time Sukuna reached the playground, his daughter had bypassed the regular slide entirely and was instead perched precariously at the edge of the platform, tiny hands gripping the top of the fireman's pole that led straight down to the ground ten feet below.
"No." The single syllable carried a warning that would have stopped his most hardened criminals in their tracks. His voice was calm, almost bored sounding, but with an unmistakable edge of command.
To his shock -though perhaps it shouldn't have been shocking anymore- her little face scrunched up in defiance, and she shouted back as loud as her little lungs would allow, "NO!!!"
Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking with hers in a silent standoff… This was the second warning, and they both knew it. Her little legs dangled over the edge, hands still gripping the pole, poised to slide down a drop that was far too high for someone her size.
"You heard me," he said, voice dropping lower.
"NOOO!!!" came the high pitched response, followed by a pink tongue poking out between her teeth in blatant disrespect.
Sukuna's eyebrow twitched, a muscle in his jaw clenching visibly. Several nearby parents, now actively gathered their children and moved further away.
"You're going to fucking fall," he growled, not bothering to censor his language -not that he ever did-... "Don't. Do. It." Each word was punctuated, deliberate. The final warning.
"MOMMY WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A MEANIE!!"
Sukuna's vermillion eyes widened. The fuck did this brat just say?
Had you actually called him that behind his back? No- impossible. You wouldn't undermine him like that. This was a new manipulation tactic from his increasingly cunning offspring… He might have actually been proud of her if he wasn’t so pissed off right now.
He tsked, a sharp sound of irritation, "Fine. If you want to break your neck, go ahead. The big bad monster's getting tired of saving your ass every time you do something stupid." Sukuna made a show of closing his eyes, head tilted back slightly.
He didn't have to wait long. The moment his eyes closed, he heard the whoosh of her small body sliding down the pole and the telltale sign that she had accidentally lost her grip. Without hesitation, without even looking, his hand shot out, catching her tiny ankle just before she hit the wood chips… He dangled her upside down in front of him, her face now level with his.
Far from being frightened, his little girls face split into a delighted grin, her ponytail hanging toward the ground, cheeks flushed with excitement rather than fear.
Sukuna arched an eyebrow as understanding dawned, "This what you wanted?"
She beamed at him while still upside down, nodding vigorously, "Yup yup yup!!! I wanted to see if you would catch me!!!"
Her grin faltered slightly, looking somewhat guilty, "Mommy doesn't actually think you're a meanie... I- I lied a-about that."
Something in Sukuna's gaze softened. He flipped her upright in one smooth motion, setting her on her feet but keeping a firm grip on top of her head to prevent any more escape attempts.
"Tell me something I don't know," he said dryly, "Your mother's got questionable taste, but she's not stupid."
She giggled, reaching up to grab the hand that was resting on her head, "So you're not mad?"
"Oh, I'm fucking furious," he replied, but there was no real anger behind the words... "You think you're clever, manipulating me like that?"
"Yup!" she chirped, swinging his hand as they walked away from the playground.
"Tch, you get that from me, ya know?" he muttered, half proud despite himself, "The manipulative shit… and it’s annoying as fuck."
She grinned up at him,"But you love me anyway!"
"Unfortunately." He sighed.
…
"…Can we get ice cream?"
"After that stunt? Absolutely fucking not."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a park bench, his daughter happily licking a chocolate ice cream cone while Sukuna pretended he hadn't just completely caved to her demands.
"Don't tell your mother," he warned, "I don’t feel like dealing with her lectures today about how you shouldn’t have this shit before dinner."
"Don't tell her what?" She asked innocently, chocolate already smeared across her cheek.
Sukuna wiped it away with his thumb, a gesture so casually tender that the few remaining parents nearby did double takes.
"Smart answer," he said with a smirk that matched her own, "guess you are my kid after all."
"Duuhh," she replied, rolling her eyes in perfect mimicry like he does, "who else's would I be?"
୨୧ — The morning started innocently enough- or as innocent as anything could be with Sukuna.
You were standing at the kitchen counter, still half asleep, nursing your coffee when his hands found you from behind. Large, warm, utterly shameless… You hadn't even heard him approach- bare feet silent on the tile, the only warning the shift in the air before his chest pressed flush against your back.
He didn't even look up from his own phone when his palm slid beneath the loose fabric of your sleep shirt, fingers spreading across your bare chest like he was staking a claim.
His thumb found your nipple immediately -no hesitation, no searching- just knew exactly where it was, and pressed.
“Sukuna-“
A soft pinch. His forefinger and thumb rolling the sensitive bud between them like it belonged to him (because it did in his mind). Like this was just part of his morning routine now. Coffee. Phone. Your tits.
The noise you made was embarrassingly small. A little mnh that died in your throat before it could fully form, your coffee mug hovering halfway to your lips. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing into his chest, and you felt the low rumble of satisfaction in his ribs before you heard it.
“Morning,” he said flatly against the top of your head. Unbothered. Like he hadn't just short circuited your entire nervous system before 8am… like his fingers weren't still working you over- circling, then tugging while he scrolled through whatever meaningless bullshit had caught his attention.
You could feel him scrolling. Actually scrolling through something on his phone with his free hand while the other one played with you like you were background noise. Like you weren't trembling against him, coffee going cold, nipple pebbled and aching under his attention.
And then -just like that- he released you.
His hand slid out from under your shirt as casually as it had slipped in. Before you could even process the loss, warm lips pressed against the crown of your head. Soft. A tenderness reserved only for you and his daughter. The kind of kiss that made your stupid heart melt in your chest…
His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack that echoed through the quiet kitchen.
“Gonna be late opening your little flower shop if you keep standing around,” he said, already walking away. His voice carried that infuriating drawl, dripping with amusement, “chop chop.”
You stood there like an idiot, coffee going cold in your grip, nipple still tingling, ass stinging, heart pounding in your chest.
God, he was annoying…
The smirk he threw over his shoulder -like he knew exactly what he'd done to you and found it hilarious- made you want to throw your mug at his head. Insufferable, but you loved it.
୨୧ — When his daughter brings home her first potential boyfriend at fifteen, Sukuna doesn't say a word. He simply sits across from the terrified boy at the kitchen table, his fork clinking against the plate, the sound sharp in the tense air. The entire time, he maintains unblinking eye contact while you attempt to salvage the rest of the dinner conversation with meaningless small talk.
After about twenty minutes, Sukuna finally speaks, "You touch her wrong, they won't find enough of you to bury. Got it, boy?" The boy is out the door just as you bring out the dessert, and your daughter doesn't speak to her father for three days. But when rumors start to circulate that the same boy pressured another girl into something she didn't want, his daughter quietly finds him outside sipping on his favorite whiskey.
Sitting next to him -her shoulder pressed against his-, she whispers, "How did you know?" Sukuna just shrugs, but there's understanding in the silence between them. After that, she doesn't fight his "inspections" quite so hard. He's always been her protector after all.
︵︵︵ ๑❤︎๑ ︵︵︵
୨୧ — During a parent teaching conference, his daughter’s literature teacher suggests she might be "troubled"… due to her persistent interest in writing dark, violent stories… The teachers eyes flicker towards Sukuna’s tattoos and scars, suggesting it might be due to the home environment.
Wrong choice of words.
Before you can intervene, Sukuna leans forward and asks with a deadly calm, "You ever read Dostoyevsky? The fucking Bible?"
The teacher nods, shrinking back in his seat…
"All full of violence. All considered genius. My daughter’s writing isn’t the problem." His voice never rises, but the temperature in the room seems to drop a whole ten degrees as he continues. "Your small mind is."
Two weeks later, your daughter rushes home holding her regional writing trophy. Sukuna has her piece professionally framed and hung in the living room next day.
Because at the end of the day, that’s still his little girl.
୨୧ — You were in the back of your flower shop arranging an elaborate wedding order when you heard it- a high pitched wail that made the fine hairs on your neck stand up. Your daughter's cry of distress was distinctive, even from a distance.
You dropped the roses you were trimming and moved towards the sound, only to collide with Sukuna who had materialized from nowhere, seemingly conjured by his daughter's cry. His entire body was tense, eyes scanning for threats, hands already forming into fists as he looks for his little girl.
"What. Happened." he demanded, voice dangerously low.
Before you could answer, your daughter came running around the corner, face streaked with fresh tears, breath coming in hiccupping sobs. The moment she spotted her father, she launched herself at him with the bling trust of a child who had never known anything but absolute protection.
Sukuna caught her easily, large hands lifting her as if she weighed nothing. His eyes continued to look around over her head, seeking for whatever had caused his daughter's distress.
"Tell me," he asked, the gentleness he forced into his voice at odds with the murderous look in his eyes, "what-" you saw how the muscles of his arms tightened, bracing himself for violence, "or who, made you cry."
She buried her face against his neck, her small body trembling, "Th-the c-clown," she managed between gut wrenching sobs. "Daddy... p-please make him g-go away!" her tiny fingers dug into his shirt, tears and snot smearing across his collar as she pressed herself impossibly closer, "He's sc-scary!"
Your shoulders sagged slightly with relief as you heard why your baby was crying. It wasn't a real threat... Which was good. The city festival had started yesterday, and performers of all kinds were wandering the streets, entertaining those who were out and about enjoying their day.
That relief died the moment you saw Sukuna's expression flicker through a range of emotions before settling on one you knew all too well: rage.
"Where." The single word carried the weight of an execution order...
"O-outside," she hiccupped again, pointing with a shaky finger towards where the clown was making balloon animals, "D-daddy he made a b-alloon and it exploded in m-my face!" her voice hitched on another sob. Watery eyes locking onto his which were now glowing a brilliant crimson as he held her protectively against his chest- watching this painted fuck of a man who was now grinning broadly at the new wave of children. "H-he laughed at me crying..."
You stepped closer, hand settling on his arm trying to draw his attention to you- it was a lost cause… this you knew. The only thing he cared about in this moment was his daughter and the man who'd dare to upset his flesh and blood...
"Don't." He said sharply.
"Sukuna, it's just a street performer. From the festival. She's not actually hur-"
The look he turned on you was arctic, the force of it freezing the words in your throat, "He. Made. Our. Daughter. Fucking. Cry." Each word was enunciated perfectly, a low snarl of fury, "And no one, makes my girls cry."
This wasn't the man who helped with bedtime stories. Nor the man who picked you up with one arm when your legs ached and held you tenderly against him… This was the man who had ripped out hearts, who'd torn men apart with his bare hands- a man who had no qualms about spilling blood in his wake. A ruthless, vicious tyrant who did not tolerate threats when it came to his family, even if it was just a street performer.
Your eyes flickered to your baby girl, her wails- her tiny voice cracking each time she tried to speak… You decided that if the man had scared her that badly, then he had it coming… Right?
"Go," your voice was gentle, "Do what you do best-" you leaned up, placing a gentle kiss to his jaw, "and keep us safe."
The smile that graced his lips was dark, twisted, a hint of madness dancing across his handsome face as his gaze turned back to the clown who was oblivious to the fate that was about to befall him.
"Stay with your mother," Sukuna's voice was soft- a rare tone reserved only for the two of you as he began peeling her arms from his neck.
"NO!!!" she shrieked, clinging tighter, fresh panic washing over her, "D-don't leave me, daddy!!" Her voice was filled with genuine terror, "Y-you can't go! You can't!"
Sukuna struggled internally- a war between the father he'd become wanting to stay by her side and continue holding her until she was calm, and the monster he's always been, demanding retribution.
He stroked her hair once, "I'm not leaving you... Just going to make the painted fuck go away."
"Sukuna," you warned, "I know I'm backing you on this but…" you glanced towards the clown, "it's a children's entertainer doing his job in the middle of the day. There's a lot of people here… You can't just walk up to him and-"
"I know exactly what i'm going to do," he cut you off, finally transferring her to your arms despite her desperate protests.
"What are you going to do?"
"Whatever it takes." He was already moving toward the front door of your shop, shoulders set, a confident stride in his steps, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression darkening the further he walked away from the two of you.
Your daughter pressed her face against your cheek, "Is daddy going to make the bad man go away?" she whispered, her arms locking around you, fingers tangling in your hair, "Daddy always makes the scary things go away."
"Yeah, sweetie," you murmured, watching Sukuna through your shop window, "he does doesn't he?" you nuzzle into her, bouncing her once, "Your daddy is always there to shield us, and to take care of us… even when it comes to the small things."
"Uh huh," she sniffled, wiping her eyes, "Daddy's strong."
You smiled at that, "The strongest," you agreed.
Through the glass, you watched him step onto the sidewalk, his presence immediately carving a path through pedestrians who recognized him. Even from this distance, you could see the exact moment the clown sensed death approaching. His hands faltered on the half twisted balloon, painted smile freezing as something screamed in his brain, danger.
In one fluid motion, Sukuna draped an arm around the clown's shoulders. The balloon that had been moments from becoming a dolphin slipped from his hands, squealing as it flew into the air and landed on the pavement.
"Hey, buddy," Sukuna said loudly, his voice pitched for the benefit of the parents and children nearby, dripping with absolute false warmth... "My little girl loved your act. Mind if we get a private performance?" Without waiting for consent, he tightened his grip around the clown's neck, steering him away from the crowd.
The clown stumbled alongside him, forced to move by Sukuna's iron control. To onlookers, they looked like old friends... No one noticing the clown's growing terror as they disappeared around the corner.
The moment they were alone, Sukuna's mask shattered. He slammed the clown against the brick wall with enough force to crack the man's skull, leaving just the right amount of blood smeared behind as a reminder of his strength. One tattooed hand crushed his throat while the other gripped his jaw, forcing eye contact.
"Listen very fucking carefully you painted piece of shit," Sukuna growled, face inches away, "you made my daughter cry. You scared her. The last person who did that lost everything from the neck down."
The clown's eyes bulged, breathing ragged as Sukuna's grip slowly crushed his windpipe, "I-I-I'm sor-"
"I could kill you right here," Sukuna continued, voice dropping to a whisper that promised agony... "Peel you apart piece by piece. Feed what's left to the stray dogs behind the market." His grip tightened until the man's face began purpling, eyes rolling back. "No one would even notice you were gone until the smell got bad..."
Just as consciousness began slipping, your face flashed through his mind- that same soft, loving smile you always wore… And then his daughter… the way her little cheeks dimpled when she smiled at him, the trust she put in him. You were both waiting for him to return. He could almost hear your voice, feel your arms around him, your hands cupping his cheeks as his daughter clung to his pant leg…
Fuck…
Killing this guy would take forever… Longer than he'd like to be away from you both…
God dammit…
"But I'm feeling generous today," Sukuna released his throat, letting him suck in desperate air. Before the man could recover, Sukuna's fist buried itself in the man's stomach, folding him in half. "So i'm offering you a choice. Leave this city. Never work as a clown again. And if ever see your ugly face- painted or not… I'll carve a permanent smile from eat to ear," the tip of his finger dragged along the man's cheek, cutting a thin line through the makeup before forcing his chin up, "Do i make myself clear?"
The clown nodded frantically, tears cutting tracks through his makeup.
Sukuna's thumbnail dug into the corner of his mouth, "Answer me. With words. No nodding."
"Y-yes-" The clown managed, his voice hoarse, "yes. Pple-please... Yes. Th-thank you."
"Get out of my sight." he snarled, tossing him by the face to the ground.
Sukuna waited until the guy was out of sight before pulling the black bandana from his pocket, wiping the white greasepaint from his hands. Only then did he stroll casually back around the front, his face bored- neutral, the one he typically wore.
When he reentered, his eyes immediately sought out you and his daughter. The relief on his daughter's face when she spotted him made his heart tighten... He was .
"Problem solved," he announced, holding his arms out for her to transfer herself from your embrace to his without hesitation.
"What did you do?" you asked, your voice quite enough so that she couldn't hear.
His eyes met yours- and you smirked knowing the look...
The clown had survived, but only because killing him would have taken too long.
"Softie~" You chuckled, leaning against his arm.
"M'not," he muttered, pressing a kiss to his daughter's hair as her eyes fluttered shut, "Just had other things to do today…"
His daughter's tired voice rose from the crook of his neck, "Did you make the bad clown go away," she smiled sleepily, "just like you promised?"
"Yeah..." he whispered into his hair, "No one gets to scare you. Not while I'm around, little one."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
As night fell you found Sukuna laying sprawled out on his daughter’s tiny bed, his large frame comically oversized for the child sized furniture. There on his chest, she was draped across him like a koala, fast asleep with one small hand still clutching his shirt. His tattooed arm curled around her, dwarfing her little body.
He wasn’t asleep. His eyes tracking your movements as you entered her room, alert as always, though his body remained perfectly still to avoid disturbing the little girl using him as a bed.
"She wouldn't let go," he grumbled, his deep voice barely audible.
You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair from her face, revealing the peaceful expression of a child who felt completely safe.
"How violent did you actually get with the clown?" you asked quietly, your fingers lingering on your daughter's cheek.
Sukuna's eyes met yours in the glow of the turtle nightlight, unflinching, "Violent enough."
"You didn't kill him."
It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway, "No." His eyes flicked down to his daughter, then back to you. "Didn't need to. Yet."
You nodded, understanding the unspoken message. The "yet" was contingent on whether the clown was stupid enough to ignore Sukuna's warning.
"You know you're stuck here for the night, right?." you nodded toward her death grip on his shirt, "She won't let go of you, not even in her sleep."
"Yeah… I know. Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the fucking last." He sounded disgruntled, but you knew him well enough to catch the glimmer of contentment in his eyes, "This kid loves me too damn much."
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then, to Sukuna's lips. He returned the kiss, teeth nipping at your lower lip, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your neck.
"She's not the only one," you say under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear, eyes locking onto his. "We're both so lucky to have you, Sukuna. Thank you, for everything. For taking care of us, and for being her protector."
He looked away, uncomfortable with the sentiment despite everything you'd been through together, "It's what I do," he replied gruffly...
You smiled, settling beside him, head pillowed on his broad shoulder, half your body hanging off the tiny bed as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to him best he could, "You're going to wake up with an achy back tomorrow."
"Don't give a damn," he grunted, pressing his face into the top of your head, "can't really move when I've got two brats sleeping on me."
You chuckle softly, letting your eyes flutter shut, enjoying his warmth, the steady sound of his heart beating under your ear and the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing, "You could, if you wanted."
"You done yapping? You're keeping me up… Go the fuck to sleep already." his arm tightened around you, holding you against him, his own eyes closing finally.
You smiled, knowing that he'd never admit he loved being in this position- surrounded by the two of you,
You caught one last glimpse of him adjusting his daughter more comfortably against his chest, his large hand cradling her head with impossible gentleness. The most feared man in the city, reduced to nothing more than a pillow for his daughter and her mother.
"Rest well, little lamb," his voice fading as he said the nickname reserved only for you, muffled by your hair as his lips grazed the crown of your head.
୨୧ ― Gojo Satoru just can’t help himself when he see’s you in cute lingerie ~
"Cover those pretty eyes of your! And no peeking or i'm changing back!" You warn, adjusting the cute cow horns atop your head nervously.
"But baaaabbby, im dying over here" Gojo whines dramatically, hand pressed firmly over his eyes as he waits on the bed. "What if you're so cute i actually explode? You'll have to explain to our child why their daddy spontaneously combusted… What if i just use one eye-"
"D- don't you dare!" You huff, cheeks flushing. You knew he was being silly, but… you wanted him to be surprised! You take a deep breath, trying to calm down.
Gojo softens, his heart fluttering in his chest, "what about half an eye?"
"Satoru!"
"Sorry sorry," Gojo chuckles, grinning, "I'm just teasing, babe. I know you're excited~ They're covered, i promise."
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Could never at you~"
When you finally give permission, his hand drops and his entire expression melts into one of pure adoration, "Oh baby…" He murmurs softly, sitting up from his spot on the bed as he engraves this moment into his memory. How you went out of your way to dress-up just for him, how the cow-print lingerie was practically painted on your skin and that growing belly of yours, how the garter belt accentuated the shape of your hips…
You were perfect.
You fidget nervously, your face flushing. Gojo stares at you, his mouth slightly agape. It wasn't that he was speechless, it was more like he couldn't speak, didn't have the words to tell you just how much you meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how lucky he felt to call you his own.
"Y- you can't just stare at me like that, Toru! I- I feel huge…"
"Really really." He hums, eyes still glued to you, "Actually, i've had a surprise for you too, sweetheart~" He coos, pulling out a box from under the bed, "Now it's your turn to close those pretty eyes of yours~"
You blink, "Satoru, what-?"
"Trust me~" Gojo grins, "and don't peek." he gives you a wink.
Before you can start to feel self conscious again, you feel yourself being scooped up bridal style, "Yeeehaw!!!" he hollers playfully, twirling you around as you giggle and cling to him, "Look what i caught myself, the prettiest cow in all of Japan~"
Your eyes open to find Gojo in nothing but a cowboy hat and a red bandana around his neck.
"Should we see if you're ready to be milked yet, doll~?" Gojo purrs, carrying you back to the bed and gently laying you down.
"You're so ridiculous, oh my god! I can't believe i let you get me pregnant," you giggle as he crawls over you, kissing you tenderly.
"but you love me~"
"i do." you smile as he presses his forehead against yours, "So very much…"
"You're my whole world, baby. Now… Moo-ve over sugar, this cowboy's about to show you a good time~"
╰┈➤ Toji Fushiguro, but it's those massive hands gripping your throat while he pounds you against the wall, leaving nice handprint bruises that mark you for days while his fat cock stirs up your insides. His fingers squeezing just enough to make your mind foggy and your vision blur as he praises in your ear what a good slut you are, taking his cock so deep.
"Tooojiiii! fuck, i- i can't-hnnnng~ i can't brea-the, i- hah~ p-please-ahn!"
His grip tightens slightly, but he releases it just in time before you can blackout, and you greedily take a few desperate gasps, his cock hitting you so deep you swear you can feel him in your tummy.
"I can feel my dick hitting your womb," he tilts his head back, "going to fuck my little brat so hard, fill your tight pussy full of my cum til' you're overflowing with it. Would'ya like that?
He's grinning, knowing he's got you, and all you can do is nod, mouth open in a silent scream as you cream around him.
୨୧ — Imagine Nanami cradling his newborn daughter tenderly. His blonde locks that were once neatly slicked back now messily frame his face- serving as playthings for tiny, curious hands. The infant giggles, gripping and curling her fingers, attempting to grab at her father's hair with pure delight. Nanami's heart swelled, a genuine smile appearing across his face.
"Ya know... Fatherhood really suits you, you know that?" You murmured, resting your head against his arm.
Nanami looked down at you, his eyes- always so tired from the cruelties of the world and working far too much, were now soft with affection, "I never thought I would have a life like this... I always felt it was far out of my reach..."
"Kento..."
He brought his daughter up to his face, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was a low whisper, yet you still managed to hear his words, "I love you. Both of you. More than anything in the world."
You could see it, not only in his smile, but his eyes as well... they held some fear. Afraid of the life he led, afraid of it coming to take the family he had so lovingly built away from him. Nanami had seen much in his time as a sorcerer. The loss of people dear to him- their deaths never failing to haunt him... He was scared... Scared of leaving you both behind, scared of the what-ifs...
"Kento, you worry far too much. I promise we'll be here, right by your side. Always and forever, okay? You're always going to awaken to me in your strong arms." You give his bicep a soft squeeze, "no way anyone could get past these bad boys."
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, holding his baby girl in one arm, he used the one you squeezed to bring you into a loving embrace, drawing you even closer to his body. Drawing you closer into his world, a world he once thought would be forever in solitude. This was all a simple moment, but Nanami felt the full weight of this newfound joy- the joy of being a father and a loving husband to you. No could've prepared him for this profound privilege.
You were his home. And for the first time, he allowed himself to relax and trust in your words... that everything would be alright...
Toji Zen'in, who doesn't get down on one knee or has a ring hidden in his pocket waiting for the perfect moment.
Instead, he's lying on your bed with you, the sheets still tangled around your legs, his calloused fingers tracing lazy patterns on your hip- gentler now than the bruising grip they'd held just moments ago.
Toji Zen'in, who's never planned a damn thing in his life, living by pure instinct and impulse. Whose love language is leaving bruised fingerprints on your skin and possessive bite marks. The same man who makes decisions in the spaces between heartbeats.
When he pulls you back against his chest you feel his chin rest atop your head. His breathing deep and even.
“Marry me.”
Toji Zen'in, whose “marry me” isn’t a question at all- just say two quiet, unguarded words slipping from his lips, like a confession he’s carried for far too long. The words falling so softly you almost miss them.
You turn in his embrace so that you can face him, the sheet sliding off your shoulder, and what you see makes your breath catch. He isn't smiling when your eyes meet- his expression stripped bare of its usual sharp edges and smirk.
Toji Zen'in, whose eyes tell stories of a man who's never had anything permanent, never wanted anything to last.
Until you.
Who traces your cheek with calloused fingers like you're something precious, something that could slip away if he doesn't hold on tight enough.
Toji Zen'in doesn't smile nor whoops in triumph or pull you into a passionate kiss. He simply pulls you closer to him after you whisper "yes," tucking you under his chin where you've always fit perfectly.
Whose heartbeat is steady against your cheek- the rhythm of home, of belonging, of a man who has finally found his harbor after a lifetime at sea. No grand gestures needed, no flowery declarations.
This is all Toji Zen'in needed- his arms around you, his breath in your hair, and the absolute certainty that he has finally found something worth keeping... Worth staying with forever.
Thinking about Gojo Satoru using you as gym equipment ♡
୨୧ — "Need something heavier than plates," Gojo muses in the training room, those blue eyes sparkling with mischief as they land on you. Before you can protest, he's already scooped you up.
"Satoru!" you squeal as he positions himself on the exercise mat, settling you to straddle his hips while he lies back. "This is not what I meant when I said l'd help you workout," you giggle. His hands grip your thighs firmly as he starts his "workout."
"But you make such perfect resistance training," he pouts, flexing his abs as he starts thrusting his hips upward, lifting you effortlessly.
Each movement has you bouncing on his pelvis, your core clenching involuntarily... "the perfect weight-" he grins, powerful hips driving up to lift you again, "Though maybe I should add some resistance..."
His fingers slip beneath your workout shorts, finding you already slick, "Oh~?" He wiggles his eyebrows at you, "Someone's enjoying being used as gym equipment~"
You bite your lip as he starts timing his thrusts with teasing circles against your clit. "N' t-this isn't... proper exercise form..."
"No?" His hips snap up sharply, making you gasp, "Seems like excellent muscle engagement to me. Plus..." he slides two fingers inside you while maintaining his rhythmic thrusts, "my fingers are getting some bonus cardio."
Your hands brace on his chest as he continues his "workout," each upward drive of his hips pushing his fingers deeper, "Satoooru... some-someone could come in... this is hah~ a public g-gym..." you bite your lip to stifle a deep moan.
"Better hold on tight then," he groans, increasing not only his hips pace, but his fingers as well, "Got about fifty reps to go... unless you tap out first~"
You whimper as he curls his fingers, knowing full well you won't last nearly that long... and that's exactly what he's counting on.
"Besides," he smirks up at you, "this is much more fun than regular weights. They don't make such pretty noises."
"Satoru!" you moan as he hits a sensitive spot, your nails biting into him.
"That's it, baby," he encourages, his movements growing more intense. "Help me work up a sweat."
୨୧ — The chat doesn't register, because Sukuna doesn't stream for them.
He streams because he likes watching you squirm knowing thousands can see exactly what he's doing to you- and there's nothing your drool drunk brain can do about it.
“Pathetic,” he rumbles, the word vibrating through his chest where your back is pinned… “Can't even keep your mouth shut without help.”
The pink ball gag stretches your jaw wide- humiliating, a mocking splash of color against the mess you've become. Drool spills over the silicone in thick strands, dripping down your chin, your throat, between your tits where nipple clamps bite into swollen flesh.
He tugs the chain. Lazily. Just to watch you jerk.
“Mmmngh-!!”
“Quiet.” Another tug, harder. Your nipples stretch obscenely, flushed angry red, “You wanted this. Begged to be my little toy.”
Tch. Already crying. Weak.
The camera catches everything- your spread thighs, your trembling body, Sukuna behind you like a throne of muscle and malice. His cock rests against your slit, thick and veined and monstrous, smearing precum into your ruined folds.
He doesn't fuck you. Not yet.
First, he spreads you open.
Two fingers hook into your cunt and pull -slow, deliberate- stretching you while the webcam captures every glistening detail. Your hole clenches on nothing, pink and puffy and dripping.
“Look at this mess.” His voice drips contempt as he angles the camera, zooming in on the way your pussy weeps for him.
His laugh is low. Cruel.
“Fine. Since you're so desperate.”
He teases his tip against your entrance- the camera catches your gummy walls stretching around that fat cockhead, the first inch sinking into wet, sucking heat.
Then he punches into your guts.
“MMMNGH-!!”
One brutal thrust buries him to the hilt. He presses a palm against your belly, watching the shape of his cock distort your tummy, “There. That's where I'm going to break my girl.”
His pace is punishing- hips pistoning, cock battering your cervix until your insides go soft. Mushy. Ruined. Each thrust punches a muffled sob from your gagged mouth, drool splattering against your tits.
“Hnnngh- ! MMMPH- !!”
“Can't understand you.” He tugs the chain hard and your back arches, “Use your words. Oh wait- you can't.”
Fuck. Clenching so hard. Trying to milk me already.
The wet sounds are filthy. Your pussy squelches around him, arousal whipping to cream, a thick white froth clinging to his shaft and oozing around the stretched rim.
“Making such a mess.” He angles the camera lower, catching the creamy ring at the base, “Like a bitch in heat.”
His thumb finds your clit, “Gonna cum? Cream on my cock like the desperate little fucktoy you are?”
You nod frantically- tears streaming, drool pooling, nipples throbbing.
“Then do it. Show them what a pathetic slut you are.”
He rams your cervix and holds-
You shatter. Absolutely shatter around him. In his arms. In front of so many...
Your orgasm rips through in a blinding wave, walls clamping so hard he grunts, cunt creaming around him in thick, milky spurts. He fucks you through it without mercy.
“Mmmngh-! HNNGH- !”
“Good girl.” Mocking. Empty. He pulls you by the chain into a kiss, nipples stretching, “Again.”
The view count ticks past fifty thousand.
Sukuna doesn't glance at it.
His hips slow. Still buried, cock throbbing against your battered cervix, but the brutal rhythm eases into something deeper. Rolling.
“Fuck-“ His composure cracks, “that's my girl.”
His hand leaves the chain, cups your jaw. Gentle. Tenderly. Thumb swiping through the spit at the corner of the gag.
୨୧ — The front door slammed open with enough force to rattle the hinges as Sukuna stepped into your small, warmly lit floral shop. His once clean white shirt was ruined, splattered with arterial spray that had begun to dry to a rusty brown. More blood streaked across his tattooed forearms and dotted his face like war paint.
“Papa! Did you crash your bike?!" His daughter squeaked, voice wobbling between horror and excitement.
For one terrible moment, Sukuna stilled completely, cursing himself for forgetting she'd be home early today. Fucking half days... He'd planned to clean up before- “…Fuck,” he muttered under his breath… This wasn't how he'd planned for her to learn about certain... aspects of his work.
His seven year old daughter sat frozen at the table, spoon suspended halfway to her mouth, pink ice cream melting unnoticed.
“Papa?” Her small voice cut through his mental calculations, vermillion eyes -so much like his own- widening as they tracked the blood spatter, “What happened to you?”
Sukuna's jaw tightened as he assessed the situation. Lying wasn't his style -not to her, not ever- but even he recognized certain truths weren't appropriate for children. Especially his own...
“Work got messy, that’s all.”
She set down her spoon carefully, but never once letting go of her ice cream cup, a furrow appearing between her small brows as she studied him, “Is that blood?”
“…Yes.”
No point sugar coating it. She had his intelligence after all- sharp, analytical, missing nothing… She’d also seen enough cartoons to realize what’s coating his clothing and skin…
“A-Are you hurt?” She tried to sound serious, demanding that he answer her, but her concern was evident- fearful that her father might have gotten hurt.
Something tightened in Sukuna's chest -just slightly- at the question. Of course that would be her first concern... Just like you, her beautiful mother, always worried about him.
“No, brat,” he finally answered with a lazy smirk, one sharp nail brushing aside her bangs before ruffling her hair, “it’s not my blood.”
Her eyes narrowed, processing this information until she pointed a small finger at his forearm where a vivid red pattern stood out against his black tattoos.
“Does that mean it belongs to someone else?”
Sukuna's laugh was dark and low, edged with something dangerous, “Someone who fucked with the wrong pers-…”
“Bad language tax,” she replied automatically, but the reprimand was distracted, secondary to her question.
“Put it on my tab,” he sighed, “but yeah… your old man had to take care of a bad guy.”
Her ice cream cup clinked softly against the table as it nearly slipped from her tiny hands just as she gasped. Her entire little body stiffening, the mug wobbling in her grip. Her eyes went huge, mouth forming a perfect O. She whispers under her breath loud enough for him to hear, “Papa… is a superhero???”
Sukuna laughed at that, “Not even fucking close,” he said, red eyes shimmering with amusement, “but the bastard had it coming.”
She gasped dramatically at the swears, then immediately giggled- as if what he just said didn’t even phase her, “You said more bad words,” she whispered, “Mama's gonna be mad.”
“Your mother has heard worse,” he said, mouth quirking up at one corner.
“If you’re not a super hero, then what are you, papa?”
Sukuna's eyes darkened, “I'm the thing heroes fight against,” he said simply. “the monster that lurkes in the shadows.”
She frowned, “But monsters are bad,” she declared, “and you’re not bad. You protect mama and I.”
The certainty in her voice -the absolute, unwavering faith- made Sukuna's chest tighten again... The very feeling he'd thought long dead until you had somehow revived it, and this small extension of himself had brought fully to life again.
“The world's not that simple, kid,” he said, more gently than anyone who knew him would believe possible.
She nodded, “Like how you tell me stealing is wrong, but then you stole the last cookie yesterday?”
Sukuna’s expression went blank, not expecting that to be her example of how the world isn’t simple, “That's… different. My house, my cookies.”
She gave him a cheesy grin before laughing- this moment where she was confronting the violent reality of who and what her father was. “I think,” she announced, reaching out fearlessly to touch a particularly vivid splash of blood on his shirt, “that you're like the dragon, Sylus, in my book!”
Sukuna raised an eyebrow, genuinely curious, “How's that?”
“He’s scary and breathes fire and everyone's afraid of him,” she explained, tiny hands flying in the air now with pure excitement, “But!! That’s because he is protecting his treasure.”
Her eyes never left his, “We're your treasure. Me and mama! So you have to be scary sometimes to keep us safe! You’re a special kind of hero!”
Something dangerously close to emotion threatened to close Sukuna's throat. This child -this impossibility- making sense of him in ways adults never could. Accepting the violence and the blood as just another aspect of protection…
“Sure, something like that…” he managed, voice wavering ever so slightly.
She nodded once, decision made, “Then it's okay.” She patted his cheek with small, sticky fingers, leaving a smear of pink ice cream among the blood. “But mama is going to be mad about the shirt. It's white… erm, well… was...”
Sukuna snorted, the tension of the moment broken by her practical observation, “Your mother's seen worse.”
“Worse shirts?” she asked innocently.
“Worse everything,” he muttered, straightening to his full towering height, “now finish your ice cream while I clean up.”
As Sukuna discarded his shirt he looked back at his little girl…
A hero. What a fucking joke…
But for her, he'd let her believe whatever version of him helped her sleep at night. If she needed to cast him as some dark protector- like the dragon in her story book rather than what he truly was, so be it.
Gojo makes your pretty belly bulge for all his viewers ♡
୨୧ — The chat explodes when Gojo hooks his fingers into the waistband of your panties and drags them aside.
He doesn't take them off- just stretches the soaked fabric to one side and holds it there, pinning it against your inner thigh so nothing obstructs the camera's view. His other hand slides between your legs, two fingers pressing against your slit, and then he spreads you open.
Slow. Deliberate. Like he's unwrapping something precious.
"There she is," he murmurs. The ring light catches everything- the dewy, flushed stretch of your cunt, the slick strands of arousal that glint and snap as he parts your folds wider, webbing between his fingers like honey. Your hole clenches on nothing, gummy and pathetically empty.
Heh, look at that. She's dripping already and I've barely touched her.
"See how wet she gets?" His voice is like silk, pitched for the microphone. Donations ping in a frenzy. "All these people watching and your little pussy's just weeping for it."
He keeps you spread with one hand and uses the other to guide his cock to your entrance- just the tip, fat and flushed and shiny with precum. The camera catches the exact moment he nudges in... the way your gummy walls stretch and clench around the head, resisting and yielding in the same breath, that first inch sinking into wet, sucking heat.
"Nnnh-"
"Shh, I got you." He rocks forward -just barely- letting the stream see how your pussy swallows him centimeter by centimeter, that tight ring of muscle gripping his girth like it's trying to milk him already, "watch this."
He snaps his hips.
Your scream breaks apart into static. One brutal thrust buries him to the hilt, his cock punching so deep you feel it in your fucking chest- and when you look down, when the camera tilts to follow his gaze, you can see it.
The bulge.
His cock outlined against your lower belly, a thick ridge pressing up beneath your skin with every thrust. He presses his palm flat against it, feels himself moving inside you.
"Right there," he groans, grinding up into that deep spot "feel that? That's your cervix, baby. That's where I'm gonna -fuck- where I'm gonna ruin you."
And then he batters it.
His pace turns savage- hips snapping with brutal precision, that fat cock ramming your cervix over and over until your insides feel like mush. Each thrust punches a whimper out of you, your walls going soft and sloppy around him, unable to do anything but take it. The bulge in your tummy jumps with every stroke, obscene and undeniable.
"Oh god- oh god- 'Toru- c-can't -hnngh-"
"yeah you can." His voice is wrecked, strained, "and you're gonna cum while they watch."
She's getting so tight- squeezing me like she's trying to break my cock off-
The wet sounds are obscene. Your pussy squelches with each pump, arousal churning into something thicker, frothier- a white, creamy mess that clings to his shaft and oozes out around the stretched rim of your hole. It smears against his pelvis, his balls, drools in sticky rivulets down to the sheets.
"There it is," he breathes, thumb finding your clit, "there's my messy girl. You hear that? Hear how sloppy you're getting?"
Schhllk
He grinds against your battered cervix, holds there, and your orgasm crashes through you like a wave- walls clamping, legs seizing, voice cracking on a sob as your cunt creams around him in thick, milky spurts. He doesn't stop. He can't stop. Just fucks you through it, churning your release into a frothy ring at the base of his cock, the camera catching every filthy detail.
The view count ticks past thirty thousand.
His cock throbs inside your spasming cunt, and Gojo just laughs- breathless, wrecked, mean.
୨୧ — You knew exactly what game you were playing- the sideway glances, brushes against Sukuna's thigh at breakfast, the way you bent over in that flimsy excuse for a skirt, ass practically begging for his handprint.
The final straw was the coffee shop, it had been calculated, deliberate- the way you'd pressed your tits against the counter, the sultry drop in your voice as you addressed the young barista who always served you. Sukuna stood rigid beside you, one massive hand wrapped around your daughter's tiny fingers, watching with murderous intensity as you let your fingers caress the barista's wrist like a fucking promise.
“Awh, you're wonderful,” you'd purred, “you always make the best coffee. I don't know how you do it.”
The barista had flushed, clearly imagining things he had no right to think about... Clearly oblivious to the death sentence being written in the crimson eyes boring into his skull.
Sukuna's hand had tightened around his daughter's, not enough to hurt -he was always careful with her- but enough that had her squeezing back with all her might. She had looked up at her father, giggling, “Papa doesn't like that man,” she'd announced plainly, loud enough for nearby customers to hear, “His face gets all scary when mama talks to him.”
Sukuna's lip had twitched, the barest hint of approval at his daughter's observation. He'd crouched down to her level, eyes softening just for her as they always did, “Smart girl,” he'd murmured, ruffling her hair gently.
Two fucking days without him- two days of him handling “business” that left him coming home with blood under his fingernails. Two days of an empty bed and pent up need that had you resorting to these dangerous games.
Now, with your daughter finally asleep, you hear him stalking down the hall. You're in the bathroom, dressed in nothing but his white t-shirt, bent over the counter in a pose that's anything but innocent. Pretending to pluck your eyebrows.
The bathroom door whumps against the wall hard enough to rattle the medicine cabinet. You freeze, tweezers hovering near your eyebrow. In the fog streaked mirror, his reflection looms like a nightmare carved from granite- jaw clenched, veins snaking down his neck. “Think you're fucking clever, don't you?” His voice is dangerously soft, “Teasing me in front of our own kid, knowing i wouldn't act up in front of her.”
“I don't know what you're talking abou-“
The lie earns you exactly what you wanted- one massive arm snaking around your neck in a controlled chokehold. His other hand grips your hip hard enough to bruise, yanking you back against his rigid cock, “You've been asking for it since I got back. Teasing me, flaunting yourself at that pathetic barista.”
“Two days,” you gasp, “You left me alone for two days.”
His laugh is a dark thing against your neck, “So you decide to pull this shit?”
“Y-yes,” you managed, voice breathy and tight as his chokehold tightened fractionally, enough to make your vision blur, enough to remind you of his absolute control over your body in this moment.
“You know there are better ways to get my attention than flirting with some worthless shit who makes coffee for a living,” he growled, his free hand moving to your breast, squeezing roughly through your shirt. “Ways that don't make me want to drag you out of a public place by your hair.”
“This is s'more fun,” you gasped as his fingers found your nipple.
Sukuna's eyes darkened dangerously in the bathroom mirror, “Fun?” he growled, his other arm snaked around your neck in a vicious headlock, his tattooed bicep crushing against your throat as he twisted your nipple between his fingers, “You think playing with fire is fun, woman?”
His free hand abandoned your breast, dropping to yank up the t-shirt -his t-shirt- that barely covered your ass. He exposed your bare cunt to the cool bathroom air, your puffy pussy lips already drenched with your slick.
“No panties,” he observed, voice deadly calm, “Walking around my house, taking care of my kid, dressed like a fucking whore with your cunt ready to be split open on my cock.”
His large hand came down on your ass with a resounding crack. “Two days,” he mocked, delivering another sharp slap, “Two fucking days handling business, and you act like a bitch in heat the minute I'm back, practically drooling over some coffee boy's dick...”
“I- I missed you,” you admitted breathlessly, grinding your ass back against his hardening bulge.
“Missed me?” Another devastating smack landed, “Or missed getting your needy cunt stuffed full of my cock?”
His fingers roughly parted your folds, finding you embarrassingly wet, “Fucking soaked,” he hissed, plunging two fingers knuckle-deep without warning, "Look at you dripping down your thighs just from being manhandled. What would that barista think seeing what a desperate cumslut you really are?”
Your walls clenched around his digits at the degradation, pussy practically weeping as he fingerfucked you just got you liked it. “P-lease,” you mewled, “m’need-”
“Please what, whore?” he demanded, curling his fingers to hit that spongy spot inside that made your knees buckle. “Please wreck your pussy? Please put you in your fucking place? Please remind you who this cunt belongs to?”
“Yes!” you sobbed, grinding shamelessly against his hand, “All -ohfuck- all of it!”
Sukuna's arm tightened around your throat, cutting off just enough air to make you lightheaded before releasing you only to fist your hair instead, wrenching your head back at a vicious angle.
“On your knees,” he ordered as he withdrew his fingers to unbuckle his belt.
You dropped to the cold tile without hesitation, spinning to face him as he pulled out his cock- thick as your wrist, veined, the swollen head already leaking precum. Your mouth practically watered at the sight of it.
“This what you been thinking about while I’ve been away?” he asked, fisting his length and slapping it across your cheek, smearing his precum on your skin. “This fat cock that you'd risk pissing me off for?”
“Always,” you admitted shamelessly, eyes locked on his, tongue darting out to taste him.
“Show me,” he demanded, pressing his cockhead against your lips, “Show me how much youve missed this- missed me…”
You parted your mouth obediently, taking him as deep as you could in one gulp. His fist tightened in your hair, holding you in place as your throat convulsed around his girth.
“Fuck,” he grunted, the first crack in his control, “Look at you choking yourself on my cock like you were born for it. World’s prettiest mom on her knees acting like a whore on a corner.”
Tears streamed down your face as you struggled with his size- even after all these years you still weren’t used to his sheer size… but you didn't pull back. Instead you hollowed your cheeks, sucking hard while working your tongue against the thick vein on the underside. Knowing it would drive him insane and earn you a roses blush on his face~.
“That's it,” he praised, mouth hung open as he pants, “Use that pretty mouth for what it's good for.”
His hips began moving, small thrusts that gradually deepened until he was fucking your face, watching your makeup run and spit drip down your chin. You moaned around him, the vibrations making his thighs shake as he hits the back of your throat. His whole idea was to punish that mouth of yours for running it earlier, but he can’t stop thinking about fucking you- spilling inside you filling your womb… Yeah, he needed that. Now.
“Get up,” he ordered, yanking out suddenly, leaving you gasping and drooling- hauling you to your feet by your hair.
Before you could breathe, he bent you over the counter again, shoving your face against the cool surface. The position forcing your ass high, completely exposed and vulnerable for him to use you as he pleases.
“Look at yourself,” he commanded, one hand gripping your neck to pin you down.
You looked into the mirror best you could- flushed cheeks, mascara streaked, lips swollen and glistening. Behind you, Sukuna's tattooed form dominated like some ancient war god claiming his sacrifice.
“Who owns this pussy?” he asked, his cockhead pressing against your entrance but not entering.
“You do,” you gasped, trying to push back only to be held firmly in place, “Only you, Sukuna. No one else.”
“And who's the only one who gets to wreck it?” he continued, rubbing his length through your syrupy folds without giving you what you and he needed.
“You,” you repeated desperately, “Sukuna, Please- I need your cock inside me! I’m so sorr-“
“Not until you admit what a manipulative cocktease you've been today,” he snarled, delivering another spank to your reddened ass.
“I teased you!!! I teased you on purpose because I missed this- flirted with him to make you jealous-“
A smile curved his lips, “At least you're honest” he murmured, positioning himself again, “Now take what you've been begging for.”
He slammed into you with one thrust, splitting you open on his cock. The brutal stretch tore a scream from your throat that echoed off the walls. Sukuna's arm immediately locked around your neck in another chokehold.
“Shut the fuck up,” he hissed against your ear, his bicep crushing your windpipe, “Unless you want to wake our daughter and explain why mommy's getting her brains fucked out...”
When another moan escaped your lips, his arm tightened around your neck viciously, cutting off your air until black spots danced in your vision and your struggles grew weak.
“I said quiet,” he growled, his other hand gripped your hip with bruising force as he maintained his punishing rhythm.
His pace was relentless, each stroke hitting your cervix and that spongy spot inside that had your eyes rolling back. Every time you got too loud his arm flexed around your throat until your legs started to buckle.
“Gonna flood this tight cunt-,” he muttered, pace becoming erratic- his cock dragging against your walls, rubbing your gummy insides raw, “put another baby in your womb so that barista knows exactly who you spread your legs for.”
The image sent you hurtling toward the edge- you pregnant again, belly swollen with his child, undeniably his in every way possible.
“Yes-“ you agreed in the barest whisper, “d-do it, wan’it- want you to put another in me-“
His free hand found your clit, circling it until a frothy white mess of your cream formed around his base as he destroyed you.
“Come on my cock,” he ordered, his arm loosening around your throat.
It hits like a fuse- white noise, bright shards behind your eyelids, knees threatening to give. You don’t make a sound, not this time, your lips part on a silent cry, the mirror catching the moment you dissolve, your body seizing and fluttering against him until you’re boneless, breathless, trembling.
He follows a heartbeat later, the fluttering of your walls triggering his release- hot spurts of cum flooding your womb as he buried himself impossibly deep… driving you into the counter with one final, possessive grind. “Fuck-“ he groaned, as his body covered yours completely, his arm still locked around your throat, his breathing ragged…
For several long moments, neither of you moved, the only sounds your ragged breathing and the distant hum of the building's heating system. Finally, Sukuna straightened, carefully withdrawing before turning you to face him.
To your surprise, there was something almost tender in his expression now, the earlier fury burned away by release. One large hand came up to cup your face, thumb gently wiping away a tear you hadn't even realized had fallen.
“You don't need to pull that shit to get my attention,” he said quietly, crimson eyes searching yours. “I know two days is too long. I'll figure something out.”
The sudden vulnerability in his admission caught you off guard. This was the side of Sukuna no one ever saw- the man beneath the monster, capable of genuine emotion despite his best efforts to suppress it.
“I missed you,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “Not just... this. You.”
Something softened in his gaze, “Could have just said that instead of eye fucking some random barista in front of our brat.”
A small smile curved your lips, “But then I wouldn't have gotten bent over the bathroom counter.”
Sukuna snorted, but there was amusement in his eyes now, “Manipulative little thing, aren't you?”
“I learned from the best,” you countered with a playful wink, wrapping your arms around his neck.
He lifted you with ease, carrying you out of the bathroom toward the bedroom. To your surprise, he didn't head straight for the bed, but made a detour down the hall, pushing open your daughter’s door with his foot.
The nightlight cast a soft glow over your daughter's sleeping form, her tiny chest rising and falling with peaceful breaths, one small hand clutching the stuffed duck Sukuna had won for her at a festival last summer.
Sukuna stood in the doorway, still holding you against his chest, something unreadable in his expression as he watched over his little girl.
“You really meant it?” he finally asked, voice barely audible, “About another one?”
The hesitation in his tone -so at odds with his usual confidence- made your heart skip a beat.
“Yes,” you said softly, pressing a kiss to his jaw, “i want that- another baby with you… Have for a while now, but… You and her have something so precious.”
Relief and satisfaction flickered across his face before he schooled his expression back to its usual impassive mask. “Good,” he said simply, pulling her door closed again before carrying you to your bedroom. “Because I wasn’t kidding about going back and showing that punk who knocked you up.”
୨୧ ― The flickering neon sign outside Toji's shitty little apartment paints his sweat slicked back in a red glow as he slams into you, bare with no condom this time. His rough calloused hands bite into your hips hard enough to bruise, the smack of skin on skin drowning out the choked whimpers you can't stop.
"Look at you," he growls, voice gravel drenched and smug. A thick vein pulses along his cock as he drags it out slow -too slow- just to watch your pussy flutter, desperate and empty, "Clenchin’ like a fuckin’ virgin around me every goddamn time. Beggin’ me to stay." His thumb swipes through the mess dripping down your thigh, shoving two fingers past your parted lips without warning, "Taste that? All you. No rubber bullshit ruining the flavor... Or fun."
You gag around his digits, tears pricking your eyes as he rams back in with a squelch. The obscene wetness of him splitting you raw makes your toes curl. He’s right -fuck he’s right- every drag of his bare cock lights your nerves like kerosene.
"Shoulda seen your face," he laughs, hips snapping forward to nail your cervix in a way that makes you see stars. The headboard cracks against the wall, your nails scratching red angry lines into his back. It's too good, so fucking good, but the thought of him filling you up like this- "Eyes wide, screamin’ ‘Toji, please, I’m not on the pill-!" His mimicry of your panic is vicious, mocking, "Too late now, princess, I'm gonna pump your womb full 'til it takes."
You feel him swell, thicker, hotter. Panic claws up your throat, "Wait-wait, I can’t-!" Despite your protests you can't help but pull him closer, thighs wrapped tight around his waist as he hammers home again and again, a broken mantra of, "Oh fuck oh fuck oh~-"
Toji cuts you off with a snarl, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your pulse hammer under his palm, "You can."
It’s the way he says it -like a vow, like a curse- that unravels you. Your legs tremble around his waist, heels digging into the muscles rippling across his lower back, "S'too good- T-Toji~♡!!! Please don-don't stop!! D-Don't p-pull out~♡! Make me a mother~"
He grins, all teeth, "There it is."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Toji Zenin hates condoms because he needs you to feel it- the primal, filthy truth of him branding your insides. The schlick of your juices mixing with his cum, the way your walls spasm when his tip kisses your cervix. He wants you dripping him for days, every step a reminder of how he utterly ruined you. No one could ever satisfy you the way he does.
But more than that?
He hates them because latex can’t give you his kid.
His favorite girl, you- the woman he can picture with a tiny diamond on your ring, belly swollen and soft. The idea of you carrying his brat makes his cock ache and his teeth grind. He imagines you walking around, round and glowing. Your tits, heavy with milk, aching for his mouth.
"S’why you keep comin’ back, right?" he mutters later, holding your limp body close as he licks the sweat from your neck. He rubs your stomach, still flat, but not for long, "Deep down… you want me to put a baby in you."
Toji can see it now- a boy, with his jawline and his eyes. A girl, with your smile and his nose. A handful of tiny brats, all perfect.
He knows it would be a mistake. A kid deserves better than a monster, a man who can count his friends on one hand. Toji will never be anything more than a glorified hired body. But the thought is tempting.
"Imagine my brat, growin’ in that pretty belly. Havin' family dinners… Soccer games… Movie nights…"
He's not the kind of guy you can build a life with. Too rough, too wild, too dangerous. But Toji can't deny the way his heart clenches at the idea.
"Fuck, baby… That'd make me so fucking happy…"
Toji Zenin hates condoms because, maybe, just maybe… He'd like a family to actually call his own.
