short dabbles based on your requests & ideas • These are so much fun to do and I’m always looking forward to more • thirsts are always welcome so type away !!
bully!Satosugu taking pics of you
study sessions with bully!Satosugu
bully!Satosugu leaking your pics?
bully!Satosugu if you got a bf
bully!Satosugu reacting to you getting mad at them
Sukuna giving reader apology head for making her cry 🥵💦
ugh exactly… and when you gather the courage to ask if u can return the favor a flat and almost harsh “no” is all you get because there’s no way he’d last if he saw you on your knees for him :3
Content: MDNI🔞, Jealous!Sukuna, Shy!Anxious!Reader, afab!reader! College au, porn w plot, implied!dubcon!possessiveness, smut, fingering, ‘car sex’, manhandling, slight corruption kink, pet names, yearner sukuna? unprofessed feelings etc.
wc . 2.9k
a/n: this was js supposed to be a short dabble but here we are :/ +++ sukuna fanart by me pls dont use w/o credit.
not proof read
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed at the sight. He was only there to drop something off for Yuuji. And of course he had somewhat expected to come across you, anticipated it even, seeing as his brother and you were pretty much attached at the hip, but not like this.
You were laughing, cheek’s flushed like you had just ran a mile. No fiddling like you usually did in his presence. Your smile warm, eyes squinting shut every time a giggle escaped you. The six-foot-something man in front of you had his hand grazing your forearm whilst the both of you humored whatever it was that you found so comical.
Sukuna was seething, a slow quiet kind of irritation bubbling within him. Out of all people of course it had to be Satoru Gojo that had you so carefree. A part of him knew the bastard was just trying to get under his skin. He had been doing it all week too, deliberately slipping your name into conversations; so often that it had become routine. Befriending you a little too easily for his liking, offering to drive you places.
After all, he was the one that figured out Sukuna’s little secret, long before he himself did. And yet, despite being aware of the man’s love for playful antics, his body moved before his mind could rationalize anything, walking right up to the both of you.
Gojo’s expression dropped a smidge before you even noticed Sukuna behind you and then you were being ripped away by your elbow. His grip was firm, barely contained. Threatening to bruise if it had been a little tighter, but you didn’t have time to complain, you couldn’t even if you wanted to, partially because you were already being led away and partially because the moment your eyes caught sight of the baby pink spiky hair it was as if all the breath from your lungs had been stripped away, your mouth felt dry, that was just the effect Sukuna had on the average person. You didn’t even need to peek at his face to know that he was angry. At what exactly? you had no clue.
You had only had a handful of proper conversations with the man, despite having known him for a stretch of years that led all the way to the beginning of your high school experience. Awkward conversations which were only plausible because he was Yuuji’s older brother.
He made you nervous, you were already an anxious mess but with him it was somehow worse. You couldn’t quite explain why. Yes, he was intimidating, with all his tattoos and piercings, always carrying the same steady, unreadable expression, not to mention the way he towered over pretty much anyone you could imagine, his movements always too deliberate, controlled. All in all, the complete opposite of you and anyone you were accustomed to.
But it was more than that, you could never place why. It’s not as if he was ever mean to you, not like he is with everyone else. So, why now was he so angry? What had you done to make him so displeased? The more you racked your brain the faster your heart raced.
He was still walking, long strides that had you stumbling to keep up with. He didn’t slow until the back door of his car was thrown open, the one he doesn’t let anyone touch never mind ride in. And yet within no time at all you found yourself placed inside. You blinked up at him, still outside, one hand placed over the hood, the other dragging down his face like he was groaning internally.
Even right now, dwindling between confusion and anxiety you couldn’t help but gawk up at him, couldn’t deny that he was just as attractive as the girls at campus made him out to be. Not a day went by where you didn’t hear whispers and murmurs about the 6’5” wall of pure muscle occasionally dropping by. Always detached, composed. Although right now, you were missing the cracks. Missing the way his fingers drummed a slow uneven rhythm against the metal of the hood, missing the subtle flex of his jaw, teeth pressing together, easing, then tightening again.
“Sukun-“
it happened before you could even begin to gather his expression, his lips crashing into yours. Angry, rough and unlike anything you had experienced before. You yelped, physically feeling the pause in your heart, Sukuna was kissing you. and he was growling, like he had been hungry for it.
His hand found its way to the back of your neck, sliding into your hair to softly yank your head back. Your lips parted in surprise, something between a whimper and a moan escaping them, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when he didn’t allow the insignificant feeling to settle. Because you had better things to be feeling in this moment, like the way his tongue felt slipping into your mouth, invasive and curious. A flash of hot and cold, you felt it before you had ever even known he had it, the small metal ball rolling against your tongue.
You felt dizzy, maybe because your vision was blurring, your mind clouded over with no room for any thoughts to creep at all. You could barely breathe, as if even that had been forgotten. You couldn’t even recall exactly how and when he got into the back seat too? How were you now left straddling him? You didn’t understand and a part of you couldn’t be bothered to care.
“w-wait” you gasped between kisses. Did he hear you? Did you even say it aloud? You weren’t sure you had, just that it felt good, the way he was kissing you, now slower and deeper, big hands gripping your waist, rolling your hips down onto him with barely any effort.
His lips traveled along your jaw, down your neck, biting occasionally. Was he planning on eating you whole? It was an irrational feeling but it was there nonetheless. Because right now that’s exactly what it felt like. Like he was consuming your every sense.
“Sukuna wh-what-“ you heard yourself stutter again, breathless. But he didn’t. It was as though he wasn’t entirely there, too intoxicated now that he was finally touching you to pay mind to anything else.
“so perfect” he whispered against your neck. Surely you didn’t hear that right? and surely it wasn’t directed at you?
“turn around” The words barely left his mouth before he was flipping you over himself, positioning you with your back now pressed against his chest. His hand wrapping around your throat, making you tilt your head back so he could kiss you again, softer this time. Sharp eyes now half lidded and glazed over. The moment seemed to stretch enough to where you realized you hadn’t ever held his gaze this long. Hadn’t realized how crimson his eyes really were. You were fighting to keep your eyes open, because if you were to look away then how could you be certain that this was all real. But it felt like it, the way he was touching you had you seeing stars.
His other hand slipped between your thighs, making goosebumps rise in its wake. You couldn’t even bring yourself to squeeze your legs together like your instincts would’ve wanted, too weak in the knees.
“say it” he rasped, his rough fingers barely grazing your pussy through your panties, you whimpered, completely dazed now. Only now realizing that you had decided on wearing a skirt today and it only made it more accessible for Sukuna to do as he pleases. You could feel the heat crawling its way up your face and that only got worse once he decided your panties were not necessary. You heard the rip before you could put two and two together, “so fucking wet”
You bit your lip, “Sukuna please”
He was toying with you now, teasing and rubbing. The sight of his big tattooed hand stroking your pussy sent a shiver down your spine, “say it.”
“mh- w-what”
“say you’re mine.” you moaned, ears ringing. Everything he did, said, completely unpredictable.
He slid a finger inside and you squirmed at the stretch, failing to suppress little pants and whimpers. “You’re okay” Melting against him like his words were gospel. Like nothing else existed.
You couldn’t quite tell how much time had passed with you wriggling in his lap, it started out slow, then faster and then he slowed down again just so he could ease another one of his thick fingers inside until you were bucking your hips, meeting the torturous thrusts. Tears brimming and sticking to your lashes, you were so close.
“again”
“m-yours” it’s all he had you babbling while he fucked you, fingers curving against every sensitive spot you were unaware you had.
“again, pretty girl”
“im yours please, please s-kuna” you whined, he had made a mess of you, you didn’t know it could feel this good. Fat globs of tears poured down your reddened cheeks while he rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit.
You could feel how hard he was underneath you, dick throbbing against your round ass every time he heard your voice. Your stomach flipped and fluttered at the feel of his sheer size, pussy involuntarily clenching around his fingers. He groaned against the shell of your ear and it only made you gush more than you already were.
It felt like he was punishing you. Or maybe even himself.
Whispering soft nothings in your ear, filthy things he had no business saying. Things that had you feverish and coming undone in no time. Your legs trembled as you came, white flashing behind your eyes as you finally went limp in his lap.
You woke up after what felt like a pleasant nap finding yourself in your apartment, all cozy and tucked in bed. A part of you wanted to believe that it had all been a dream, something obscene your mind had conjured up simply because it could. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had dreams about your best friend’s older brother. Each one leaving you more mortified than the last. But that didn’t stop your mind from getting more and more audacious.
The delusion was quickly swept away once your phone buzzed. A text from Satoru.
Satoru : u okay sweets?
Satoru : what was that about?
sorry i fell asleep :(
you quickly typed out, still a little drowsy.
what are you talking about?
Satoru : Sukuna?
You felt dizzy again just seeing his name on the screen. There was no way that it actually happened right? you and Sukuna Ryomen, in the back of his car.
You spent the next two days confined in the discomfort of your shared apartment, drifting in a quiet spiral. Plagued by a thousand thoughts and even more questions. Replaying the scenario in your mind over and over hoping to reach some sort of an understanding, a conclusion. Anything to help you make sense of it.
It was late in the evening when you heard a knock at the front door, you almost dismissed it, thinking you had imagined it entirely. But another one followed soon after. Reluctantly you dragged yourself to the door. opening it mindlessly.
A flash of pink and you were frozen.
“god i was so worried”
your shoulders slumped, relaxing at the realization.
It was yuji. A black duffel bag swung over his shoulder from the roadtrip he had taken with one of his friends. Consumed by your own predicament it had completely slipped your mind that he was returning today. A part of you was glad to have been alone for the last couple days, it had given you time to process, time to cool off, or so you thought.
“Where have you been, you never miss your classes?”
His brows furrowed as he stepped inside, scanning you head to toe as if he were dissecting, trying to locate any cause of distress.
“Are you okay?” he spoke softly, genuine worry lacing his words. You could feel your eyes welling up against your will. You had truly missed him and the sense of comfort his presence always left you with.
“Hey no, no why are you crying?” he dropped his bags immediately, stepping closer.
“…I don’t know” you sniffled while he rubbed your shoulders.
“No tell me, what’s wrong?” Yuuji bent down to be at eye level with you.
“you flinched.”
“what?”
“when you saw me.” he was staring intently. “…What happened?”
That was all it took for the dams to break, you were sobbing before you knew it. “no, no, no, it’s okay,” he said pulling you to his chest “it’s okay, tell me what happened i’ll fix it.”
“Suk-kuna’s mad at me” you hiccuped between sobs, Yuuji stiffened.
“What?”
“don’t know, what I d-did but-“
“You didn’t do anything for fuck’s sake, what did he say to you?”
You quietened, the fact that this was his brother you were talking to and not simply your best friend now dawning upon you.
“I-“
He saw the hesitance. Noticed the quiver of your lip. “it’s okay, forget it.” he offered you a small smile, knowing you weren’t going to open up, not to him and not about this. “Let’s just get some food in you yeah? i brought your favorite.”
The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch, watching some corny rom-com he knew you liked and stuffing your faces.
He kept glancing at you, both with worry and irritation that he was desperately trying to suppress. What could have possibly happened during the little time he was away, for Sukuna to be so, himself. And with you of all people.
He loved his brother sure, But Sukuna was an asshole and even Yuuji was subject to that at times. He was tough, but that’s exactly why he was his rock.
It just pissed him off because you didn’t deserve to undergo his unfiltered hostility. Or anyone else’s for that matter.
You weren’t like most people, you were kinder, sweeter, and four times as sensitive. You could read people at a glance, could tell exactly what they were feeling and why. What drove them, what they would do if ever given the chance. Maybe that is exactly why Sukuna terrified you. Because no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t take a peek into his mind. And it only made you want to curl up in your little shell.
Yuji looked at you again, yawning, at the brink of sleep. He only felt at ease now that you had visibly relaxed.
Which is why he couldn’t even bring himself to be patient and wait till morning, no matter how tired he had been after his long drive back.
“What did you do?”
Sukuna was smoking on the balcony when Yuuji barged in. He took a long drag before giving him a look, a look that if directed at anyone else it would’ve had them scurrying off to whatever hole they crawled out of. But Yuuji was used to it.
“y/n” he spoke, throwing him an accusatory look back, “what did you say to her?”
Sukuna raised his brow, stubbing his cigarette out. Yuuji failed to notice how he had stilled for a second too long at the mention of your name.
“nothin’”
“so, nothing to make her cry and lock herself up?”
“She was crying?” His heart was betraying him, any other girl and Sukuna wouldn’t even have entertained the conversation. But with you, he could feel his chest tighten and it only irked him more.
“why do you care? you’re the one that has her anxious out of her mind that you’re mad at her or somthin’, whatever that means. So what exactly happened between the two of you?”
Sukuna cursed under his breath. Recalling his utter lack of control.
“what is up with you? you’ve never been mean to her before. You know how she is right?”
Yuuji found it a bit odd how his brother didn’t seem to have anything to say, and Sukuna always had something to say. A curt “shut up, brat” or “it doesn’t matter,” but right now the man was just listening, actually giving him the time of day.
“look man,” Yuuji sighed, rubbing his temples, “she’s not like all those other girls you’re cruel to because they throw themselves at you or whatev-”
“I’ll say sorry”
“no, none of that bullshit, you cant just- wait, what?”
“I said I’ll talk to her, brat”
Yuuji would have smiled if his jaw wasn’t on the floor, his arrogant, dismissive, asshole of a brother that definitely thought he was above everyone else bending because he hurt your feelings?
“you promise you’ll apologize and not scare the shit out of her like you usually do?”
“i don’t scare the shit out of her?” Sukuna retorted, clearly offended.
“Those muscles are really all you have, aren’t they?”
“Shut up” Sukuna rolled his eyes. moving towards the younger man to give him a shove towards the door, “get out now, i gotta sleep”
“you still haven’t promised!”
“fuck fine, promise I’ll fix it so fuck off already”
“good boy!”
Now he was just getting cocky. So when Sukuna landed a kick square in his back to get him to leave his apartment, even Yuuji thought he had it coming.
hihi i haven’t written in so long & i am sooo rusty bc this honestly took me an embarrassingly long time to compose. But I hope u enjoyed reading! No idea where I’m going w this or if there will be a part two but asks and suggestions are always welcome and appreciated!!! xoxo
I just read your recent story and loveddd it. I want to read more of your stories but I can’t 😞 do I need to scroll far??
Thank u so much !!!! 🩶🩶🩶🩶 i changed my user so none of my links are working rn :(( i’ll fix it soon but if u click on the tag below u can access the bully!satosugu series, assuming that’s what u were talking about?
Content: MDNI🔞, Jealous!Sukuna, Shy!Anxious!Reader, afab!reader! College au, porn w plot, implied!dubcon!possessiveness, smut, fingering, ‘car sex’, manhandling, slight corruption kink, pet names, yearner sukuna? unprofessed feelings etc.
wc . 2.9k
a/n: this was js supposed to be a short dabble but here we are :/ +++ sukuna fanart by me pls do not repost.
not proof read
Sukuna’s eyes narrowed at the sight. He was only there to drop something off for Yuuji. And of course he had somewhat expected to come across you, anticipated it even, seeing as his brother and you were pretty much attached at the hip, but not like this.
You were laughing, cheek’s flushed like you had just ran a mile. No fiddling like you usually did in his presence. Your smile warm, eyes squinting shut every time a giggle escaped you. The six-foot-something man in front of you had his hand grazing your forearm whilst the both of you humored whatever it was that you found so comical.
Sukuna was seething, a slow quiet kind of irritation bubbling within him. Out of all people of course it had to be Satoru Gojo that had you so carefree. A part of him knew the bastard was just trying to get under his skin. He had been doing it all week too, deliberately slipping your name into conversations; so often that it had become routine. Befriending you a little too easily for his liking, offering to drive you places.
After all, he was the one that figured out Sukuna’s little secret, long before he himself did. And yet, despite being aware of the man’s love for playful antics, his body moved before his mind could rationalize anything, walking right up to the both of you.
Gojo’s expression dropped a smidge before you even noticed Sukuna behind you and then you were being ripped away by your elbow. His grip was firm, barely contained. Threatening to bruise if it had been a little tighter, but you didn’t have time to complain, you couldn’t even if you wanted to, partially because you were already being led away and partially because the moment your eyes caught sight of the baby pink spiky hair it was as if all the breath from your lungs had been stripped away, your mouth felt dry, that was just the effect Sukuna had on the average person. You didn’t even need to peek at his face to know that he was angry. At what exactly? you had no clue.
You had only had a handful of proper conversations with the man, despite having known him for a stretch of years that led all the way to the beginning of your high school experience. Awkward conversations which were only plausible because he was Yuuji’s older brother.
He made you nervous, you were already an anxious mess but with him it was somehow worse. You couldn’t quite explain why. Yes, he was intimidating, with all his tattoos and piercings, always carrying the same steady, unreadable expression, not to mention the way he towered over pretty much anyone you could imagine, his movements always too deliberate, controlled. All in all, the complete opposite of you and anyone you were accustomed to.
But it was more than that, you could never place why. It’s not as if he was ever mean to you, not like he is with everyone else. So, why now was he so angry? What had you done to make him so displeased? The more you racked your brain the faster your heart raced.
He was still walking, long strides that had you stumbling to keep up with. He didn’t slow until the back door of his car was thrown open, the one he doesn’t let anyone touch never mind ride in. And yet within no time at all you found yourself placed inside. You blinked up at him, still outside, one hand placed over the hood, the other dragging down his face like he was groaning internally.
Even right now, dwindling between confusion and anxiety you couldn’t help but gawk up at him, couldn’t deny that he was just as attractive as the girls at campus made him out to be. Not a day went by where you didn’t hear whispers and murmurs about the 6’5” wall of pure muscle occasionally dropping by. Always detached, composed. Although right now, you were missing the cracks. Missing the way his fingers drummed a slow uneven rhythm against the metal of the hood, missing the subtle flex of his jaw, teeth pressing together, easing, then tightening again.
“Sukun-“
it happened before you could even begin to gather his expression, his lips crashing into yours. Angry, rough and unlike anything you had experienced before. You yelped, physically feeling the pause in your heart, Sukuna was kissing you. and he was growling, like he had been hungry for it.
His hand found its way to the back of your neck, sliding into your hair to softly yank your head back. Your lips parted in surprise, something between a whimper and a moan escaping them, but you couldn’t be embarrassed about it, not when he didn’t allow the insignificant feeling to settle. Because you had better things to be feeling in this moment, like the way his tongue felt slipping into your mouth, invasive and curious. A flash of hot and cold, you felt it before you had ever even known he had it, the small metal ball rolling against your tongue.
You felt dizzy, maybe because your vision was blurring, your mind clouded over with no room for any thoughts to creep at all. You could barely breathe, as if even that had been forgotten. You couldn’t even recall exactly how and when he got into the back seat too? How were you now left straddling him? You didn’t understand and a part of you couldn’t be bothered to care.
“w-wait” you gasped between kisses. Did he hear you? Did you even say it aloud? You weren’t sure you had, just that it felt good, the way he was kissing you, now slower and deeper, big hands gripping your waist, rolling your hips down onto him with barely any effort.
His lips traveled along your jaw, down your neck, biting occasionally. Was he planning on eating you whole? It was an irrational feeling but it was there nonetheless. Because right now that’s exactly what it felt like. Like he was consuming your every sense.
“Sukuna wh-what-“ you heard yourself stutter again, breathless. But he didn’t. It was as though he wasn’t entirely there, too intoxicated now that he was finally touching you to pay mind to anything else.
“so perfect” he whispered against your neck. Surely you didn’t hear that right? and surely it wasn’t directed at you?
“turn around” The words barely left his mouth before he was flipping you over himself, positioning you with your back now pressed against his chest. His hand wrapping around your throat, making you tilt your head back so he could kiss you again, softer this time. Sharp eyes now half lidded and glazed over. The moment seemed to stretch enough to where you realized you hadn’t ever held his gaze this long. Hadn’t realized how crimson his eyes really were. You were fighting to keep your eyes open, because if you were to look away then how could you be certain that this was all real. But it felt like it, the way he was touching you had you seeing stars.
His other hand slipped between your thighs, making goosebumps rise in its wake. You couldn’t even bring yourself to squeeze your legs together like your instincts would’ve wanted, too weak in the knees.
“say it” he rasped, his rough fingers barely grazing your pussy through your panties, you whimpered, completely dazed now. Only now realizing that you had decided on wearing a skirt today and it only made it more accessible for Sukuna to do as he pleases. You could feel the heat crawling its way up your face and that only got worse once he decided your panties were not necessary. You heard the rip before you could put two and two together, “so fucking wet”
You bit your lip, “Sukuna please”
He was toying with you now, teasing and rubbing. The sight of his big tattooed hand stroking your pussy sent a shiver down your spine, “say it.”
“mh- w-what”
“say you’re mine.” you moaned, ears ringing. Everything he did, said, completely unpredictable.
He slid a finger inside and you squirmed at the stretch, failing to suppress little pants and whimpers. “You’re okay” Melting against him like his words were gospel. Like nothing else existed.
You couldn’t quite tell how much time had passed with you wriggling in his lap, it started out slow, then faster and then he slowed down again just so he could ease another one of his thick fingers inside until you were bucking your hips, meeting the torturous thrusts. Tears brimming and sticking to your lashes, you were so close.
“again”
“m-yours” it’s all he had you babbling while he fucked you, fingers curving against every sensitive spot you were unaware you had.
“again, pretty girl”
“im yours please, please s-kuna” you whined, he had made a mess of you, you didn’t know it could feel this good. Fat globs of tears poured down your reddened cheeks while he rubbed the pad of his thumb against your clit.
You could feel how hard he was underneath you, dick throbbing against your round ass every time he heard your voice. Your stomach flipped and fluttered at the feel of his sheer size, pussy involuntarily clenching around his fingers. He groaned against the shell of your ear and it only made you gush more than you already were.
It felt like he was punishing you. Or maybe even himself.
Whispering soft nothings in your ear, filthy things he had no business saying. Things that had you feverish and coming undone in no time. Your legs trembled as you came, white flashing behind your eyes as you finally went limp in his lap.
You woke up after what felt like a pleasant nap finding yourself in your apartment, all cozy and tucked in bed. A part of you wanted to believe that it had all been a dream, something obscene your mind had conjured up simply because it could. It’s not like it hadn’t happened before. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t had dreams about your best friend’s older brother. Each one leaving you more mortified than the last. But that didn’t stop your mind from getting more and more audacious.
The delusion was quickly swept away once your phone buzzed. A text from Satoru.
Satoru : u okay sweets?
Satoru : what was that about?
sorry i fell asleep :(
you quickly typed out, still a little drowsy.
what are you talking about?
Satoru : Sukuna?
You felt dizzy again just seeing his name on the screen. There was no way that it actually happened right? you and Sukuna Ryomen, in the back of his car.
You spent the next two days confined in the discomfort of your shared apartment, drifting in a quiet spiral. Plagued by a thousand thoughts and even more questions. Replaying the scenario in your mind over and over hoping to reach some sort of an understanding, a conclusion. Anything to help you make sense of it.
It was late in the evening when you heard a knock at the front door, you almost dismissed it, thinking you had imagined it entirely. But another one followed soon after. Reluctantly you dragged yourself to the door. opening it mindlessly.
A flash of pink and you were frozen.
“god i was so worried”
your shoulders slumped, relaxing at the realization.
It was yuji. A black duffel bag swung over his shoulder from the roadtrip he had taken with one of his friends. Consumed by your own predicament it had completely slipped your mind that he was returning today. A part of you was glad to have been alone for the last couple days, it had given you time to process, time to cool off, or so you thought.
“Where have you been, you never miss your classes?”
His brows furrowed as he stepped inside, scanning you head to toe as if he were dissecting, trying to locate any cause of distress.
“Are you okay?” he spoke softly, genuine worry lacing his words. You could feel your eyes welling up against your will. You had truly missed him and the sense of comfort his presence always left you with.
“Hey no, no why are you crying?” he dropped his bags immediately, stepping closer.
“…I don’t know” you sniffled while he rubbed your shoulders.
“No tell me, what’s wrong?” Yuuji bent down to be at eye level with you.
“you flinched.”
“what?”
“when you saw me.” he was staring intently. “…What happened?”
That was all it took for the dams to break, you were sobbing before you knew it. “no, no, no, it’s okay,” he said pulling you to his chest “it’s okay, tell me what happened i’ll fix it.”
“Suk-kuna’s mad at me” you hiccuped between sobs, Yuuji stiffened.
“What?”
“don’t know, what I d-did but-“
“You didn’t do anything for fuck’s sake, what did he say to you?”
You quietened, the fact that this was his brother you were talking to and not simply your best friend now dawning upon you.
“I-“
He saw the hesitance. Noticed the quiver of your lip. “it’s okay, forget it.” he offered you a small smile, knowing you weren’t going to open up, not to him and not about this. “Let’s just get some food in you yeah? i brought your favorite.”
The two of you spent the rest of the night cuddled up on the couch, watching some corny rom-com he knew you liked and stuffing your faces.
He kept glancing at you, both with worry and irritation that he was desperately trying to suppress. What could have possibly happened during the little time he was away, for Sukuna to be so, himself. And with you of all people.
He loved his brother sure, But Sukuna was an asshole and even Yuuji was subject to that at times. He was tough, but that’s exactly why he was his rock.
It just pissed him off because you didn’t deserve to undergo his unfiltered hostility. Or anyone else’s for that matter.
You weren’t like most people, you were kinder, sweeter, and four times as sensitive. You could read people at a glance, could tell exactly what they were feeling and why. What drove them, what they would do if ever given the chance. Maybe that is exactly why Sukuna terrified you. Because no matter how hard you tried you couldn’t take a peek into his mind. And it only made you want to curl up in your little shell.
Yuji looked at you again, yawning, at the brink of sleep. He only felt at ease now that you had visibly relaxed.
Which is why he couldn’t even bring himself to be patient and wait till morning, no matter how tired he had been after his long drive back.
“What did you do?”
Sukuna was smoking on the balcony when Yuuji barged in. He took a long drag before giving him a look, a look that if directed at anyone else it would’ve had them scurrying off to whatever hole they crawled out of. But Yuuji was used to it.
“y/n” he spoke, throwing him an accusatory look back, “what did you say to her?”
Sukuna raised his brow, stubbing his cigarette out. Yuuji failed to notice how he had stilled for a second too long at the mention of your name.
“nothin’”
“so, nothing to make her cry and lock herself up?”
“She was crying?” His heart was betraying him, any other girl and Sukuna wouldn’t even have entertained the conversation. But with you, he could feel his chest tighten and it only irked him more.
“why do you care? you’re the one that has her anxious out of her mind that you’re mad at her or somthin’, whatever that means. So what exactly happened between the two of you?”
Sukuna cursed under his breath. Recalling his utter lack of control.
“what is up with you? you’ve never been mean to her before. You know how she is right?”
Yuuji found it a bit odd how his brother didn’t seem to have anything to say, and Sukuna always had something to say. A curt “shut up, brat” or “it doesn’t matter,” but right now the man was just listening, actually giving him the time of day.
“look man,” Yuuji sighed, rubbing his temples, “she’s not like all those other girls you’re cruel to because they throw themselves at you or whatev-”
“I’ll say sorry”
“no, none of that bullshit, you cant just- wait, what?”
“I said I’ll talk to her, brat”
Yuuji would have smiled if his jaw wasn’t on the floor, his arrogant, dismissive, asshole of a brother that definitely thought he was above everyone else bending because he hurt your feelings?
“you promise you’ll apologize and not scare the shit out of her like you usually do?”
“i don’t scare the shit out of her?” Sukuna retorted, clearly offended.
“Those muscles are really all you have, aren’t they?”
“Shut up” Sukuna rolled his eyes. moving towards the younger man to give him a shove towards the door, “get out now, i gotta sleep”
“you still haven’t promised!”
“fuck fine, promise I’ll fix it so fuck off already”
“good boy!”
Now he was just getting cocky. So when Sukuna landed a kick square in his back to get him to leave his apartment, even Yuuji thought he had it coming.
hihi i haven’t written in so long & i am sooo rusty bc this honestly took me an embarrassingly long time to compose. But I hope u enjoyed reading! No idea where I’m going w this or if there will be a part two but asks and suggestions are always welcome and appreciated!!! xoxo
Synopsis. “Here ye, here ye—a royal wedding is upon the horizon!
The uniting of two kingdoms long held in fierce battle: hybrids and humans. At the first light of sunset His Majesty, King Gojo Satoru, the sole snow leopard hybrid in all the lands, shall wed Her Royal Highness, the princess: you.
For one moon the princess shall have to succeed - or survive - in marital bliss with the King, in order to commence peace negotiations between the two kingdoms.
But remember, dear princess, no matter how gentlemanly a hybrid may seem…they still remain hybrids. They possess powers. They undergo ruts.
And humans aren’t built to handle them.”
Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem!princess!reader, snow leopard hybrid!Gojo, hybrids AU, royalty AU, he’s the cruel king of the North, King!Gojo, pIot, worldbuilding, humans vs. hybrids, poIiticaI marriages, arranged marriages, for the good of the people, reader is lowk a BAMF, YEARNING Gojo, paintings, palaces, setting descriptions, RÚTS, pheromones, hybrid tendencies, he goes FÉRAL, first times (both), sIight bIood, oraI (fem rec.), pússydrúnk Gojo, fíngering, spítting, hoIding you down with his tail, stopping you from running, p talking, rings, manhandIing, matíng presses, bréeding, making him BREAK, making it fit, cervíx smoochin, dúmbificatíon, p worship, HEAVY overstím, Gojo’s powers, creampíes, cúmpIay, KNOTS, implied marathons, fated mates, confessions, HAPPY ENDING, pet names swéaring.
Word count. 17.4k
A/N. PHEWWWWW y’all knew I just had to-
White dress.
Rouge.
Soaps and scents from all over the world.
Milk bath. The concoction of pale liquid stretches around you like a neverending sea; in a bath tub just as vast, with flower petals locked in a constant state of battle against the torrential waves of your attendants scrubbing you down to the very bone.
Above the seething splashes, your mother’s droll tone emanates—veering into her fourth hour of pacing the royal bathing chambers now.
“—such an unseemly arrangement- but of course, we ought not to have expected anything more from a hybrid.” Her lip curls in distaste, “The Ton might even consider it scandal- and yet, I fear we have no choice in the matter. Not with him.”
“Yes, mother.”
“Not even the kingdom’s best advisors could negotiate his terms, my dear.”
“Yes, mother.”
“This is the only resolution remaining for the kingdom.”
“Yes.” For who was to go against the Queen?
In just an hour’s time, you’ll be married to King Gojo Satoru.
Gojo Satoru.
The infamous ruler of the Kingdom of Hybrids.
The shadow looming over your kingdom.
The last snow leopard hybrid alive.
There was a reason to that that made your heart clench—you’d felt the floor fall out of your history lesson the second it’d been taught to you. Legend said that your people had hunted down every last snow leopard hybrid after discovering that the opposing kingdom’s monarchs were of that family - every last one.
Except for one.
It was unsure how or when Gojo Satoru had escaped during the massive conflict, but your people had gotten their penance once he’d returned - stronger than ever - and declared battle.
But you didn’t want to think about that right now- not when all that led to were thoughts about just how the patriot might enact revenge for it upon you.
The Kingdom of Hybrids and the Kingdom of Humans have sat beside one another since the dawn of time, and so has the resentment between the two. It has always been ever-present and ever-growing. Your ancestors, and your ancestors’ ancestors. Like the overpass of frothy white clouds hovering through your blue, blue skies above—churning into dark storm clouds and blizzards once they reached the gloomy land of the neighboring kingdom.
The opposing kingdom always seemed colder, always seemed crueler.
And you were sure that the primary reason for that was the geographical difference between the two: your kingdom sat at the bottom of a mountain, where the valleys were fertile and nature flourished. Whereas the Kingdom of Hybrids was scattered in large, stone towers and huts across the enormous mountain range.
Only sharpening in weather and bite the further up the mountain one went. Its peak was completely obscured by clouds, and not even on the clearest day could you spot the spirals of where Gojo Satoru’s palace - aptly named the North Palace - was rumored to be.
Out of morbid curiosity, you did sneak a glance every day. Hell, you even fixed a lantern from your royal chambers—perhaps hoping that someday you might witness a lantern blinking back.
Though that was an experiment yet to bear results - you haven’t spotted even a single hybrid subject coming out of those hard stone homes. It was as if a ghost kingdom.
Even if the news from the front lines clearly stated otherwise.
The hybrids obscured themselves with snow and fog. Cloaked themselves in storms that sent trundling vibrations even to your palace. Residents of a perpetual winter that tore through their kingdom - even the stray gusts of air from the mountain made your subjects shiver, you couldn’t imagine what it was like to be borne and passed in such a state.
Borne and passed, because it was forbidden for subjects of either kingdom to cross into the other.
As all good neighbors must, your ancestors had raised a barrier separating the two lands for good; a thorny forest about seventy feet high and several towns’ length wide. It was made of thorned trunks about the size of boa constrictors. Plunging into the clouds with their barbed limbs as though to make the world pay for ripping apart the one body of the land into two parts.
Though if you made such a comparison in any of your tutoring classes, you knew you’d be punished forthright.
It wasn’t a surprise when the resentment had exploded in the coming years.
By the time you were in your teenage years, announced as next in line to the throne, Gojo Satoru had already taken the mantle as king. And that was when the conflict had started.
Hybrid warriors attacking the outskirts of your kingdom. Your own feverish subjects bloodthirsty to set fire to their sparse farms.
It’s been a long and cruel battle.
You could sit here and recount the history lessons that your palace tutors had drilled into you - all those sabotages of war plans, all those attempts to oust either throne. The time your locals had been attacked by a ravenous pack of wolf hybrids, and the time your subjects had cut through the barrier, and clamored up the mountains just to spear through some of the prey. Hybrids with a taste for humans, and humans that bled no warmth. Blood and gore. Blood and gore.
There never flourished a fruit sweet from blood and gore.
And the roots of the thorn barrier had been watered with such for ten years now. More from your own kingdom’s people than his.
Why had it even started? One could only guess.
You knew what the royal history tutors proclaimed - this was because of their hybrid powers, they’d been poisoning the wells and farmlands with their mystique, they’d been kidnapping humans for nourishment - but you also knew that those of the other side must proclaim something far different. Have conflicting stories ever settled on one answer? One truth?
Most definitely not. Battle only gave one answer, and the question was what numbers were lost.
Luckily for your kingdom, however, the end of the fighting was nigh.
It had happened last week—the letter.
Just a day after you’d been announced to take up the throne in the upcoming week. The next Queen.
The resurgence of the people.
On a day when the fighting was stalled, and it wasn’t looking pleasant for your side: a sole hawk hybrid flew between those winding thorns, scratches upon his wings from the long flight, a white handkerchief of surrender tied around his neck.
The arrow upon your kingdom’s front lines had raised the moment the flapping of wings became clear. Drew closer.
If not for the wave of surrender, you weren’t sure what would have happened - Gojo Satoru was not the type of ruler to stand for a single one of his subjects being harmed. Especially one so seemingly harmless. And your lines of soldiers had been pushed back in the last few months…they wouldn’t have stood a chance.
The soldiers had shuddered as the half-human, half-bird creature drew nearer—something mythical from their storybooks, their greatest nightmares.
You hadn’t been there alongside them that day, and Commander Masamichi Yaga was the one to take the first step towards him. A handkerchief of white held in his own hand.
The two had met in the middle, you’d heard, on your side of the nation.
There, the hook-nosed Commander - or so you’d heard from the whispers of the soldiers that had been there that day - had handed over the envelope. It was a snow-white parchment, cool to the touch; so starkly empty except for the slight heft in its weight, and the single, slanted line of blue cursive on its back.
To the future Queen.
A carriage had been called immediately to the royal palace.
Higuruma had flown off thereafter, and the Commander had set off down those high-ceiling, gold-capped corridors of the palace. At once.
You remember exactly where you’d been when you first saw the letter - in the circular meeting table with your royal advisors, poring over your nth war tactic that day. You’d just opened your mouth to suggest another treaty proposal between the two kingdoms - your strongest men and women and every warrior in-between couldn’t possibly last much longer against the formidable foe - when Yaga had barged in—his face solemn, his body bowed, his hand trembling where he held that unopened letter.
And at first, you’d assumed that something had gone horribly wrong - that your subjects had been harmed. But then you’d reached out and taken it.
The letter had no sender’s name, but it didn’t need one.
It was the first correspondence with King Gojo Satoru since he’d taken up the throne. Ever.
“To my dearest future Queen,
Though I suppose it shall be a falsehood to claim you as mine—that is not a privilege this lowly hybrid holds just yet. So I suppose you must forgive me; to the dearest future Queen.
I am aware of your kingdom’s valiant efforts against my own, and I commend you for maintaining such a fervent battle. I admit, no kingdom prior has managed to prolong one of my battles thus far—you’ve made me exercise battalions I never believed I would get the chance to, in this lifetime, and it has been quite thoroughly exciting to face my first challenge. You hold your fights well, my future Queen.
My apologies, it has happened again.
But you must be aware of what is undeniable - your kingdom is losing. Though not instantly, it is inevitable that, ultimately, your kingdom shall crumble before mine. Your humans are injured, and you falter in resources.
I know you know.
However, fret not. For it seems that across the duration of our snipes, I have grown to hold a strange affection for your kingdom, and most of all—you.
To the future Queen: if you wish for the war to come to a close, in a way that benefits both parties equally, I am extending this one olive branch.
Marry me.
Marry me. Marry me. Marry me.
You may hold the celebrations in any manner or place you wish, you may annul the marriage if you do so please. This lowly hybrid proposes that you may even take other lovers, shall it be your desire to do so; my only condition is that Your Majesty must reside in the North Palace alongside yours truly for one moon.
Yes, one moon with you is all I ask. After which you are free to return, to register the annulment, to even reside in the North Palace as long as you please.
Though, this lonely King shall do his best not to heighten his hopes.
On the moon after our union, my troops will pull back from the borders - we shall be at war no longer.
On the third moon after which this letter has been received, Commander Higuruma will be awaiting in front of the thorn barrier for your response. Do not attempt to herald an attack, for there is a reason that hawks are birds of prey.
I await your response impatiently, the my future Queen.
Yours truly,
Gojo Satoru.”
The letter had dropped from your hands once you finished reading it.
One moon.
One night.
One night with the cruel King Gojo Satoru.
And of course, there was no promise that you’d ever be coming back—for, who could trust a King like so?
There was nothing more to be said about Gojo Satoru.
Everyone had a story about him.
Everyone.
Perhaps from the odd disappearance of a family member that strayed too close to the barrier, or a childhood bedtime story that always featured him as the fearsome villain. Lately, you have been the hero, of course.
Though one knew not of what the hybrid looked like, nor his age, nor the full extent of his powers, nor any insight into his motivations - everyone knew one thing for certain: and that was to stay away.
Gojo was deemed to be a brutal king—the cruelest of them all. The most wicked. The one that appeared on battlefields as fleetingly as a snowflake upon your palm, and disappeared just as quick - so quick that one won’t even be able make out his features, his form - leaving behind a trail of carnage that piled up high enough to form their own kingdoms. In just a single second.
And the more he aged, the more his powers grew.
He was the reaper. And you were being asked to walk right into his claws.
What followed had been a fervent series of letters - penned by only the best of the best advisors, authors, and peace negotiators in your kingdom - that were rejected one by one. Your kingdom’s messengers disappeared into the barriers upon their surrender-white horses, holding bagloads of letters and pleas from your council, and arrived with the very same an hour later—somewhat disoriented.
According to them, they’d followed the route to the other kingdom to a T - and yet, somehow found themselves exiting back out through your side of the wall once more.
Gojo’s magic, you knew. Though unaware of its uses and intricacies, you understood that this was what you’re getting for not following his instructions—waiting for Higuruma.
And you also understood that if his prowess was this expansive, then what more could they possibly do to your kingdom…
And so - after three moons - you’d accompanied Commander Yaga and the troops to the area where they’d first encountered Higuruma. Sure as ice, the hook-nosed man was standing there proudly.
He bowed luxuriously at you, before clipping the response letter into his clutches—then he stretched the massive wingspan upon his back and took flight. Disappearing towards his own kingdom in but a few blinks.
And you could only watch as your response was carried away.
“To Gojo Satoru,
I accept your proposal. It is time we finish this war.
Regards,
The future Queen.”
The date was set. You were to be married.
And so you’ve found yourself being fussed over by the entire palace - and even the tailors, and cake-makers, and florists from outside. The people. The outraged and the delighted alike.
Everyone and anyone bursting the seams of the palace in an attempt to catch a glimpse of you on your wedding day. What an honorable date it was, wasn’t it?
On the day that should have been your coronation as Queen, you’re being fitted into your wedding outfit.
It was initially supposed to be your first gown as ruler.
A lavish few meters of white silk pampered, teased, and pressed into frills. Millions upon millions of miniature diamonds bedazzle the fabric in increasing saturation towards the bottom, making it look as though you were the beauty of nature itself; the soft sunlight across freshly-ladden snow, the hymn of tree branches against the winter wind, an ice shard itself. Sharp when you’re not looking.
The train of your wedding outfit had taken several attendants to fix onto your jewel-encrusted tiara, and it billowed out the length of several ballrooms.
It was equally as decorated with tiny fixtures of diamonds, heavy yet grounding - you’d specifically asked the tailor to add these on. If you’re going to bear yourself before the most wicked King, then you might as well make an impression.
You touch the silk gloves that covered you from fingertips to elbows - also something you’d requested. Just one night. You’d show that your kingdom wasn’t just the feeble humans he must think he was toying with- and afterwards all diamonds were ordered to be distributed amongst the people.
This was your choice to marry your opposing monarch. Everything was yours.
Though the bouquet of white roses must have been a choice of the palace. Must have…
Your mask of quiet acceptance fixed. Your appearance radiant. You’re staring at the person in the mirror that seemed so distant from yourself—was this the new Queen of the Hybrids?
Attendants and tailors fluttered around you like butterflies, harried that they weren’t able to suckle the honey out of you fast enough. They’re smoothing your fabrics down and fussing with your train, they’re making last-minute adjustments to the size and fitting-
“Careful.” Your mother warns from a distance, and her tone is enough to make the entire room jolt. She stares down one of the tailor’s apprentices, “Heaven forbid you prick her- goodness knows what he will have to say.”
“Pricked or unpricked, he shall have to deem fit what he sees.” You’re responding, head held high. “For I was not the one that insisted upon a marriage.”
“But you simply must understand that—”
Mercifully, your mother’s getting cut off by the shrieking of trumpets outside.
There were many a royal and noble guests invited to your wedding, and each entrance had been marked by the stirring of your orchestra and the announcement by the chief butler. But this…this was a sheer symphony of sound, shivers, and suspense that made you realize that this couldn’t have been anyone but—him.
There was a special melody for your husband-to-be, and your heart thundered along to its march as everyone inside the dressing room rushes to the window overlooking the sprawling courtyard. It was a massive stone masterpiece - the brilliance of human craft - a swooping row of colonnades with a glittering fountain in the middle. Areas sectioned off for the spectators, and marbled pathways from which guests came and went.
Your hands grip the smooth windowsill as you witness a coach of pure white approaching.
It was as unassuming as that of any other guest, only standing out for its sheer elegance.
Large spiralled wheels pulling along a well-built carriage, with a gleaming white hood and its curtains drawn. Larger than most. It seems that the Kingdom of Hybrids had a tendency to use horse hybrids as both coachmen and those tugging on the reigns, they threw their long heads proudly as they pulled on the royal carriage.
“Can you see him—can you see him?!” The attendants whisper to one another.
“I can’t see him yet- say, is it really true that he has the horns of the devil and wings like a bat?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, he’s a snow leopard hybrid. I’ve heard he turns into a leopard at whim.”
“My acquaintance’s acquaintance says he’s cursed with six eyes- yes, six.”
“I’ve heard he’s grotesque-”
They falter, and flicker their gaze towards you. You don’t react.
Your eyes follow its parade between crowds that hush as it passes. It leaves a cold breeze behind it that makes even the heartiest of those celebrating tremble, it leaves the flowing water of your royal fountain freezing. Ice.
You’re leaning even closer to the edge of the balcony, hoping to see but a-flutter of those curtains that might reveal something about the man who was surely inside-
“Ouch-” Startling at the sudden prick of something against your shoulder, you’re turning around to find that the young apprentice had leaned into you- holding her needle from before. The very tip of it had accidentally touched your skin, in her frenzy to see the King himself—and as her face drops in apology, you’re opening your mouth to tell her that it was perfectly alright when-
BANG—!
When a sharp gale causes the windows to slam shut.
Everyone in the dressing room jumps back a foot away from the offending part of the chamber, looking at each other as if to confirm whether they didn’t feel a single breeze prior. You certainly hadn’t, either.
That had just come out of nowhere…
Rattled, no one makes to open the window once more.
The trumpets blare yet again - this time with a slightly less rich tune signalling another guest from a far-off land - and some of the younger attendants merely stare at the closed window longingly—wishing to just see. But one look from the main attendant has them jumping back into action, pins and all.
They had a wedding to prepare you for.
And the groom was already here.
.
.
.
Music was pouring out of the gilded venue.
In a letter later sent by Commander Yaga - and allowed through the barrier by Gojo’s powers - you’d specified that you’d like the wedding to be held in this magnificent limestone building; older than the rest of the palace it was attached to, and just as revered. Gojo’s reply had been simple: I am already aware of this arrangement, my future Queen.
And you didn’t want to think of how he knew.
Low chandeliers. Sprawling rose pathways. Attendants zipped back and forth between extending your train and sneaking looks inside the royal cathedral.
“Do you see him- move-”
“Oh, heavens—is that him?” Your skin prickles in goosebumps.
“I thought he had…”
“I would never have expected him to be so…”
Traitorous to that expressionless facade you had on, your heart races as yet another attendant hastens to join the troupe peering inside the pews- and gasps. For, what could that mean? What could such a reaction be indicative of?
What did Gojo Satoru look like?
It’s not that you held physical looks upon a pedestal - you knew such frivolities were ephemeral, and you’d met far too many handsome nobles whose good looks did little to compensate for their manners or lack thereof. But it’s just…
You had an image of Gojo Satoru in your head.
Though legends often described him as a half-man, half-leopard with six eyes and bat-like wings that carried him over vast battle fields—you envisioned him as something slightly different. Perhaps a half-man, half-beast just as they said, with paws far larger than a normal snow leopard, and a fur-muzzled face that looked ready to eat you.
Something as mythical as they made him sound.
You’re shivering, and one of the attendants asks you whether you’re cold.
You’re shaking your head evenly, and they look up at each other and nod. You touch your gloves for comfort.
They throw the gauzy veil over your face and fully open the double doors to the cathedral. The music had uplifted: it was time for you to walk down the aisle.
Your steps were just as poised and perfect as your years of etiquette lessons had taught you - and to the naked eye, you might even look confident. There goes the Queen, our savior, our monarch, marrying off the monster from the Kingdom of Hybrids to protect her people.
But out of their view, you knew your hands shook where you clutched that white rose bouquet.
It really was cold inside the venue.
It seems like eons before you’re reaching the end of the altar, and before your royal officiant begins his speech. Due to your veil, your vision of Gojo was obscured - other than the pointed tips of polished white shoes. You could sense that he was tall—but just how tall (taller than a human could be?) was still a mystery to you.
As the officiant reaches the end of his speech, two pale hands come into your line of vision. Long with slender fingers, slightly blushed at the tips of his knuckles - Gojo’s hands, you realize with a jolt - were reaching out for something you had.
Your own hands, it catches up to you.
And, tentatively, you’re putting your left hand in his.
It flinches- for just a split-second because of its frigidness. Before you’re keenly aware of the restlessness of your ministers in the front row, and you’re placing it back into his grasp.
“Your Majesty, if you could now place the ring on Her Highness’s finger and repeat after me—” And there was no ring in Gojo Satoru’s hands- there was no ring. But the next time you’re blinking - as if it had just manifested out of thin air - he’s suddenly holding the most beautiful band of silver in his hands.
A delicate wreath of precious metal, fashioned into two ferns that enveloped your ring finger perfectly, settled with a teardrop alexandrite in the middle and two smaller white diamonds on either side. Gojo’s fingers were cold as they held yours and pushed the ring on. The officiant continues, “-with this ring as a symbol of love, of commitment, of unity, and of peace—”
And a soft, smooth tone follows- his.
Not quite the low, animalistic growl that you might have expected, nor the hissing sibilance of something shadowy - but something different entirely.
“With this ring as a symbol of my eternal love, of my commitment, of our unity, and of peace—”
It was the rich, noble tone of a royal. Gojo enunciated his words perfectly - and his deep voice echoed across every corner of the vast cathedral. Such a pretty voice and so- so human that it makes the hairs on your body raise.
The officiant continues with a light cough - if he were equally as surprised at the King’s voice, then he makes no indication. “I wed thee—”
“I wed thee—” And then Gojo says your name and it makes your heart almost stop. The way it rolled off of his tongue…it sounded like a prayer.
“-and pledge my love to you in this lifetime.”
“-and pledge my love to you in this lifetime, and in each one after.”
There’s a slight shifting on the numerous wooden pews as Gojo takes his freedom with the vows. And then a slim silver band is handed to you - it feels cold in your palm, impersonal, though not nearly as cold as your future husband’s fingers - and your hands tremble as you take them in yours. The officiant turns towards you and utters those same vows-
“With this ring as a symbol of love, of commitment, of unity, and of peace…” You’re repeating, sliding the ring onto his lengthy ring finger. Almost inhuman in nature. “—I wed thee, Your Royal Majesty, King Gojo Satoru-”
Your voice falters.
His hands grow a little tighter on yours.
“-and pledge my love to you in this lifetime…” And you’re unsure what makes you take it- you’re so unsure. But you can’t help but echo just what the snow leopard hybrid had stated earlier, “-and in each one after.”
A soft rush of exhales as both rings now glint upon your matching fingers.
United as one.
The officiant’s booming voice announces, “By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you…husband and wife.” In the distance a bell tolls, and it swells above the creaking of mahogany as the spectators lean in their chairs. “You may now kiss the bride.”
Gojo’s hands - now clad with a single wedding ring - lift up the safety of your veil. And you’re blinking at the sudden rush of light now—you’re blinking up at him.
And oh.
Your breath catches in your chest, heart a-stuttering. Pert lips. Dimpled cheeks. Young- he couldn’t have been more than a few years older than you. Eyes such a pale blue that they looked almost white. For the crisp white strands of his hair catch the sunlight filtering through the windows, setting his features a-glow and revealing to you the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen. Human.
He looked utterly human.
Gojo Satoru lowers his head towards yours but hesitates, his gaze searching for an answer in yours. And perhaps it was the shock of seeing the King of Hybrids for the first time - after so long looking out of your window for a glimpse of him - or perhaps it was the dizzying rush of warmth that’d suddenly run through your body but—but you’re leaning in first.
You’re the one kissing him, sealing your fate with the cruelest king of them all.
His lips were smooth and cool to the touch, tasting faintly sweet.
You feel Gojo smile into the union, before he’s pulling back and re-slotting his mouth more eagerly against your own.
Cheers erupt in the cathedral. And surely your advisors were shaking hands with one another, surely your mother was wiping off tears.
One of your hands rests against the silken material of Gojo’s suit, pressed up against his chest where his heart battered. Only slightly faster than your own racing one - even though it wasn’t an embrace too scandalous nor prolonged, a thrill rushed through your body that you couldn’t explain.
Gojo cups your left cheek softly, though there was a lack of pressure that let you know that you were free to pull back any time. And you had to pull back - you needed to.
If not for the fact that this was a man you’ve never met before, then for the fact that The Ton would have far too much to say after the wedding - the King’s condition of a single night only added to the scandal.
But you just….you just didn’t want to. Some strange part of you deep, deep down only wanted to sigh through your nose as you leaned even deeper into him.
Something deep, deep, deep—
Before a hoot of celebration from somewhere in your audience jolts you back into your senses.
And you’re pulling away from him as if it burned.
Burned.
Burned—your body felt as though you were burning up. Feverish.
It feels as though your veins were suddenly thrumming with an energy that wasn’t entirely yours, and the faster every single particle of you was vibrating - the hotter your body was feeling.
Warm tears welling up in your eyes. Mind never having felt clearer.
You’re panting once and it’s the most scorching breeze you’ve ever felt—“Fuck.” A ripple runs through your body as you realize you’ve just sworn without meaning to- and it seems to extend past you and into the body of Gojo himself.
Gojo.
Gojo. Gojo. Gojo.
Whose nostrils flare and his eyes grow sharper. Behind him, his fluffy tail of white with rosettes swings from side-to-side—tail? You hadn’t seen that before…And you’re stumbling closer as if to get a closer look, to which Gojo Satoru easily catches you in his arms.
His strong hand clasps at your waist, and you’re finding your body leaned shamefully into his chest.
Looking up into his pale, pale blue eyes - like the skies of an ever-present winter - you gulp. And then you tilt your neck slightly to the side, as though bearing it for him.
Gojo’s lips part, and you see sharp canines peaking between his pink lips.
The cathedral has gone quiet by now, any sense of humor and victory bled dry - as dry as he could bleed you, if ever his canines chose to make a target of your pretty neck. As though reading their urgent thoughts, the Hybrid King leans in—close enough that his cold pants cascade down your throat and your arched spine.
You gulp as his dampened teeth approach until they’re mere millimeters away.
In what feels like another far-off land, you’re hearing the cluttering of iron and armored knights approaching. The footsteps of your kingdom’s best troop, led by Commander Yaga, and their shouts for Gojo Satoru to cease as he himself plunges into this inexplicable daze. Flesh on flesh.
But you’re only closing your eyes in anticipation of his bite-
His bite that falters as Gojo flicks his snow leopard-like ears over to the storming knights- and he cracks a slight smile.
One arm on your waist, and the other gently grasping your nearly ring-clad hand, he swings the two of you around as though waltzing to a music you couldn’t hear. The orchestra had long stopped.
And then you’re both disappearing into thin air.
Leaving behind only the rose bouquet.
.
.
.
By the time you’re opening your eyes, you weren’t at the royal cathedral any longer, and it feels as though you never were.
And one look around the room you were in makes you think that you never will be again. Ever again.
The chamber opened up like the mouth of a beast, of which you were inside with no way out. Teeth-like artifacts and ridges of bookshelves swathed the circular room luxuriously; titles of both human and hybrid languages of which you knew only a few sparse words. This was clearly the room of someone well-read, and your eyes glazed over at the large mahogany desk scattered with pictures, diagrams, and maps.
Portraits. Balconies with more bookshelves. Stairs and spirals. And a few remnants of armor emblazoned with your kingdom’s insignia, the debris of a meal well-had. Like a massive uvula a chandelier hung from the high ceiling, and the longer you stared at it- the more it dawned upon you that it seemed to be made of some ever-lasting ice.
Its windows provided little light and even less location. Fogged with frosty clouds, they were merely windows into a beast that had no soul—a beast that only hungered with no thoughts. A chill runs down your spine.
In just a second, you knew where you were: you were in the North Palace. Presumably in one of King Gojo’s studies.
You’re feeling his cold presence next to you- and you’re pressing yourself against the stone wall instantly. And he follows. Putting a hand down your right glove and pulling out the dagger you’d hidden beneath—always had. Always will.
You raise the tip of its silver blade to kiss Gojo Satoru’s neck.
It trembles just a little as he swallows.
Gojo has you pushed against the wall - chest to chest, pant mingling with pant - and one of his arms rested on the space above your head. He looks down at you with steely blue eyes.
His snow leopard tail quivers for a little bit- before coming to wrap around your leg.
He almost tugs you to him and you’re gasping, pricking the dagger against his neck until a bead of crimson follows. “A step closer and I shall end this war right now-” You’re hissing.
And to your surprise, Gojo merely smiles. “You may believe that.” He lazily flickers his eyes down to the weapon you had clutched, and a slow frost starts overtaking everything from its handle to the blade. “But I am aware you won’t.”
“You know not a thing about me-”
“So you may think.” He reaches up and you almost flinch- in fact, every fibre of your rational being believes that you should flinch. But something else…something else entirely deeper and ancient keeps you in place, staring into Gojo’s eyes as he runs his fingers down your cheek. Letting the cold metal of his wedding ring kiss your skin, and you’re leaning into the touch - you wanted it so bad. But you didn’t know why. “But I believe I know you more than you might think, my Queen. In this life and others.”
You struggle to keep your breath even- why did you wish to lean into him once more? “You’re nonsensical. You’re crazy.”
“Perhaps so.” Gojo hums, his canines glinted in the dim lighting of the chandelier. “But this lowly hybrid only grows crazy for you.”
Your breath stutters. You’re breathing in his ice-cold scent.
Gojo raises his nose in the air as if smelling something - you do, too, but you’re unable to sense anything but the coldness of winter and pine. But whatever he smells in the air makes him smile something simpering, “You are free.”
You balk, “What?”
“You are free to roam wherever you wish.” He says, finally creating some distance between you two. “You are free to…” Something catches his attention- he reaches out. And for a second there, you think he’s about to steal your dagger—but what Gojo clasps onto is your glove. The King presses that precious fabric against his face and inhales your essence, “-do whatever you wish.”
Leaving you stunned, the hybrid turns his back to you and walks towards the arched door. Glove crushed between his fingers.
He makes it until the frame of the door - of which he fills out most of its vast shape - before looking over his shoulder at you. “Everything except leave, of course. For the night.”
As he walks away, he calls.
“My attendants shall see to it that you’re led to your room and given a tour around the palace, and they shall provide you robes to which you may change into. The bath is already drawn, and my kitchens have prepared refreshments.”
You feel yourself sliding down the stone wall.
“Dinner shall be served once night falls- do not be afraid to let the royal chefs know what nourishments please you.”
Ultimately ending up on the floor. Hand shaking on your dagger.
“Once morning comes, you may do anything you please.”
You’re wondering what it was you felt earlier as you bared your neck to him.
“You may even leave.”
It’s then that a troupe of attendants enter after Gojo’s exit, hybrids of all shapes and sizes and colors—human. For the most part. They were similar to Gojo in the sense that they possessed more human features than the stories of your kingdom foretold, with ears and tails pertaining to their hybrid type, and demeanours which gave away their status as hybrids even if they wore cloaks.
One such hybrid - a red panda with a scar across her beautiful face - introduces herself as Utahime, the head attendant. She looks down curiously at you.
Your panting breaths. Your widened gaze.
“Forgive my manners, Your Majesty, but I haven’t seen a human before.” She tilts her head down at you, red ears twitching. “Worry not…it’s a little startling the first time for us, too.”
“The first time?” You’re being helped to stand by her.
“The first time.” Utahime nods, “Are you perhaps a little disoriented? We may pay a visit to my mate, Shoko, in the healing ward - she’s a caracal if that interests you - if you wish?”
“A caracal—no, hold a moment-” So much was swirling in your head—the first time, the mate, the existence of a healing ward just as your palace did. What on Earth was…“What do you mean by the first time? A mate?”
Utahime looks confused, mouth dropping slightly. “Why, because His Majesty has-”
“Utahime.” A stern, feminine voice sounds from the doorway.
You’re looking over the red panda hybrid’s shoulder to see a woman with short, straight hair standing at the stone door. Her ears so large and triangular - twitching back and forth with its tufted tips—“Allow me to look over Her Majesty.”
“O-of course.” Utahime moves to the side.
The hybrid - Shoko, you assume - looks over you for any signs of injuries or scratches during the journey here, including testing you for symptoms of magical nausea.
And it seems a somewhat regular check-up, one that was reminiscent of the ones conducted in your own kingdom, until Shoko takes a cotton swab out of her medical bag and slides it down the tender spot of your throat.
All down that column. Lymph nodes.
As if your skin was more sensitive than ever, you’re shivering.
She inspects that cotton swab and lets it waft in the air for a seconds - seemingly all ordinary, it’s not long before Shoko’s wrapping it up and placing it all back in her bag.
And you’re not able to ask what that particular process was about before Utahime’s bounding up to you again. The attendants had waited for your brief check-up to conclude.
“Are you prepared for your tour, Your Majesty? Or would you prefer we bathe you first?” She asks.
“I believe I would like to freshen up first.” You answer, before looking at the woman that had an open expression on her face. Little nubs of her canines peaked out through her smile. She wasn’t nearly as terrifying as all the stories had led you to believe, “For what reason do you do that?”
“Pardon?” She cocks her head.
“For what reason do you call me that—‘Your Majesty’?” Being led by her out of the study, you’re being shown around the various hallways and artifacts that were just as grand. “My coronation is yet to be held, though it was supposed to be today…”
“Oh…” Utahime looks at you in slight confusion, “But you are our Queen.”
Your brows furrow, “I am yet to be the Queen of my kingdom yet-”
“You are the Queen of the Hybrids, Your Royal Majesty.”
.
.
.
You’d been slightly too harrowed to wonder just what the condition of ‘one night’ would entail. If you were to go that far…perhaps you’d expected for the consummation of your marriage.
Or whatever it was that hybrids had equivalent.
You’d been ready for it, however, both with your knife and your will.
If you had to fuck Gojo Satoru, then so be it—at least, that had been what you’d thought. Before. Before you’d seen him on the altar, and now, there was a part of you that would gladly exchange the rites of flesh.
And that scared you more than any legend.
Utahime was a wonderful guide around the palace, she explored every grand nook and cranny with you. The ballrooms. The libraries. The frozen fountains- yes, frozen. She took you from staircase down hallway down secret alleyways between bookshelves, leading you into grand halls with portraits of the Gojo family.
You stared quite longingly at those: white-haired, noble-faced hybrids that resembled Gojo in their species and strength. He looked more like his beautiful mother, you learned.
And something clenched in you as you remembered just why they weren’t here.
Looking at the cherub face of the blue-eyed heir in the portrait, you couldn’t help but ask Utahime- “What are the consummation traditions in your kingdom?”
She’d looked towards you slightly startled, “The mating traditions, Your Majesty? Why…the same as your human mating traditions, I suppose.”
You gulped, “And the King-”
“His Majesty would never force you into something that you do not wish to happen.” Utahime reaches out and holds your hand, you’re learning that it’s just as cold as her monarch’s. “Fear not for your safety in this kingdom, my Queen. Harm shall never fall upon you in the Kingdom of Hybrids.”
You trusted her- you didn’t know why, but you trusted her.
It had been past afternoon when you’d arrived at the North Palace, and well into the evening once you’d finished your tour. Thoroughly spent, your jaw had dropped once Utahime told you that it was just a few wings of the palace that’d been explored-
“Tomorrow, we may explore the towns. The people shall be overjoyed to meet their new Queen-” And then she’d stopped in the middle of her sentence, throwing a nervous look your way. “That is…if you so wish to stay past the conditions, Your Majesty.”
And you did not know how to answer her.
Later, after some reading in their vast libraries - far greater than even your own palace’s - you’d been led into a sprawling dining hall for dinner.
It was a chamber that reminded you of Gojo’s study, though vertically longer to accommodate for the snaking table. Polished wood. Sparkling chandeliers. Paintings plastered across its oblong walls. Spread from nearly end-to-end of the royal room, you counted at least a hundred or so chairs on either side as you were bowed inside the great dining hall. Knights stood on guard with their weapons, though they didn’t seem to pose a threat.
The table was laden heavy with food, fantastical ice sculptures, and a fireplace: you wondered how those ice sculptures didn’t melt. Was this a work of Gojo’s powers, as well? Puddings and pastries. Truffles and rice. Steaks and vegetables. Sweet and sour.
Piled higher than your head.
Chocolates melted and crafted into all sorts of artworks that you didn’t even know was possible to do with such an ingredient. In the middle of the table sat a six-tiered wedding cake, proudly crowned with miniature fondant figures of Gojo Satoru and…you.
A cake like this would have taken well over two days - since your response - to create. And that’s not to mention the fact that he already knew what you looked like…
Just how long had he been planning this?
There was everything your heart could desire- and you meant that. You hadn’t taken Gojo up on his offer to make the kitchens privy to your preferences, and yet you were pleasantly surprised to find that almost all of the foods were…your favorites.
All your favorites.
How did they…
You’re being led to the chair positioned at the very end of the table - the head chair often reserved for the leading ruler. The King, in this case.
Only…Utahime pulls out the silver-tipped chair at the very end and gestures for you to sit there.
You?
You’re stopping short, “King Gojo—”
“Shall be sitting beside you, Your Majesty, worry not.” And you’re unsure whether you should be embarrassed that she’d assumed you missed him - rather than the fact that you were wondering when he’d make an appearance, claim that chair the way he claimed you.
And as if to emphasize her point, she’s tapping at the chair right beside yours.
Not the one at the head of the table.
The one beside it.
Lower-tiered.
“His Majesty’s request.”
You’d never heard of a King who’d been happy to sit at a position lower than his Queen- let alone request for such a seating arrangement.
Slightly trembling, you’re taking your seat nonetheless.
And just as soon as you’re settling in- the doors bang! wide open.
In hurries a ferrety man in spectacles, holding an agenda to his chest and bowing so low that his nose touches the floor. “Y-Your Majesty!”
“At ease.” You’re responding, somewhat wary.
“Ijichi…” Utahime grumbles, “What’s the meaning of this? You’re interrupting the royal couple’s dinner together.”
“I-I fear that’s exactly the problem, Your Majesty.” The man - Ijichi, it seems - turns to you with an expression that couldn’t have looked more apologetic if he tried. “I have been sent by His Majesty to inform you that he extends his deepest apologies, for he shan’t be able to attend the royal dinner tonight.”
You’re gripping the silver butter knife at your side, “Pardon?”
And he flinches as though he’s just been struck—“Forgive me! It seems that some ah- unavoidable circumstances have risen that make it somewhat…difficult for His Majesty to join Her Majesty tonight- th-though that’s not certainly not for a lack of want! And His Majesty is supremely upset over the fact, it’s simply…”
Ijichi looks to Utahime for help. In the far corner of the room, the knights shuffle on their feet at the tension.
With a cautious expression, the woman steps closer - and as soon as she’s within his proximity, Ijichi leans down to whisper something in her ear—and her expression melts into one of understanding. Disappointed, but understanding.
She turns to you with an equally apologetic expression, “My apologies, Your Majesty…”
Your heart jumps to your throat.
“The King is unable to attend tonight’s dinner.”
You don’t know why you’re disappointed.
.
.
.
You admit that the dinner passed by in a blur - delicious, and yet still a blur.
Perhaps if you don’t miss anything of this excursion, then you’ll at least think back on those delicacies fondly.
Although, you admit that Utahime - and even the ever-anxious Ijichi - had certainly grown on you. They kept you company throughout the rest of the dinner, and once you were finished the red panda hybrid escorted you to your royal quarters.
It was a vast chamber located not too far from Gojo’s study.
Even though most of the palace found itself composed of cold, hard stone—this room was special. It had the most delicate layers of paint spread across it, something you hadn’t seen before even during your tour - baby blue in color, with faint patterns of snowflakes etched into every corner. Gilded decorations on every piece of furniture. A fireplace against one wall. More books than you could ever read in your entire life - let alone single moon here.
There was a balcony overlooking a befogged land that you could not discern, and a drop from it would have been fatal.
What drew you in the most, however, was the painting.
Most chambers in the North Palace were decked with precious paintings - hand-crafted oils of color in silver frames, those that looked more valuable than a room full of treasure and perhaps just as ancient - for it seemed that King Gojo was a lover of the arts. Interestingly enough.
You wouldn’t have expected that of him.
But this one…this painting was the largest of them all.
It took up the space of one entire wall, which - according to your mental calculations - would have been thirty-two feet tall and eighty-eight feet wide. One side of your bedroom that was donning robes of oil paint—featuring the most picturesque vision of…your kingdom.
Your palace. Your people. Your dream as a monarch: seeing the people of your kingdom as happy as they should be.
The humans in this painting were hand-in-hand in the town square, dancing around a roaring bonfire. Around them were heaving tables laden with food, and behind- oh. Your eyes widened as you take in the painting even further - it wasn’t just the humans that were dancing with one another. There were hybrids, too.
Your bed was a sprawling four-poster, and you huddled in amongst the silk-covered pillows.
This was your one night with King Gojo Satoru.
The first and the last.
Your one and only.
But there must have been a reason for this marriage, for his condition- there must have been. A full moon circled high in the sky, and peace couldn’t have been so easy.
You kept your dagger underneath your pillow that night.
And so you slept—not as fitfully as one might have expected.
When you wake up- it’s still nighttime.
You’re sitting up on the bed and attempting to blink your vision back. It must have been an hour, perhaps two, since you’d gone to sleep- and you hate to admit it, but that must have been the best hours of sleep you’d gotten in years.
You might not even have woken up at all had it not been for the thunderous sound of footsteps outside.
Someone was running- no. Multiple people were running.
Heart battering against your chest, you’re grabbing the dagger out from underneath your pillow and getting onto your feet. You were wearing a thin layer of silk Utahime had bestowed upon you as a nightgown, but there was no time to consider propriety now - something was happening inside the North Palace.
Quickly unlocking the latch upon those double doors, it’s dark enough in the corridors that you’re slipping past the personal guards stationed outside your chamber. And crowded enough that you could slot into the chaos unnoticed.
Attendants. Advisors. Knights.
Hybrids of all different types and varying degrees of urgency - from urgent to being nearly in tears - were trampling like a herd in the same direction down the corridor.
You’re keeping your head down low as you fit into a sparse gap of space and let yourself be led to wherever it was they needed to be. Forwards. Down a hallway. Forwards. Forwards.
Ultimately, you’re not travelling too far before heading down a high-ceiling hallway—the pathway leading up to a private chamber. And by the sheer luxury of this wing - and the constantly incremental paintings of the Gojo family - you’re guessing that this must be where the Hybrid King slept.
Something stirs at the pit of your stomach- did something happen to…?
No, you couldn’t let yourself think that.
Shaking your head free from such thoughts, you’re managing to squeeze past attendants and staff that stuffed every nook and alcove here like sardines. Everyone was fervid to get inside, and even more desperate to get out before too long—
Then…the slightest crack in the door.
Breath catching in your chest, you shoot your arm out to catch it before it closes. Warm light filters from inside, and even warmer air follows it - fighting against whatever hybrid attendant was attempting to close it, you’re managing to wrench it open far enough to push yourself within.
Just as you’re thrust inside, you turn around and catch Utahime’s gaze- also pressed against one wall of the corridor.
Her eyes widen as she realizes just who it is—and her mouth shouts out a silent ‘no-’
Those double doors slam! shut.
It’s a royal bedroom just as large as yours.
And you could go on describing all the polished pieces of furniture, and the draped blue curtains, and the chandeliers, and the books. One of the walls in his bedroom was covered in a painting, just as the wall in your room had been - though you’re not too focused on it right now. A carpet spread from underneath the king-sized bed and nearly to every corner of the room—it was a stone-cold white, stitched intricately in the Gojo family emblem. But that was exactly what caught your eye.
Not the carpet, no- the bed.
Not exactly the bed itself, but rather the heavy metal chains on either side of it. Like dungeon chains.
There were six rings - thick and composed of rusting iron, one being half the length of your body - fastened to both walls sandwiching the bed. Falling from them were chain-links, each one the size of your head and twice as hefty—snaking like boa constrictors along the chamber floor, the foot of the bed, on top of the mattress.
Each one was shackled to the hands and feet of Gojo Satoru.
Panting. Flushed.
Feverish.
Surrounded by some guards, Shoko, and the rest of her healers who kept pressing cold cloths to his forehead, wiping him down furiously.
Bucking into the air with a husky groan- it makes the dungeon chains rattle as they’re tugged on. Hard enough to make the metal creeeeeak—!
You don’t know what more to gape at - the fact that he was strong enough to fight against six of those massive chains and nearly win, or the fact that Gojo was underneath a thin cover and…naked.
Something stirs between your legs.
And instantly-
Instantly, Gojo stills.
The healers take a startled step back, cold cloths suspended in their hands as they assess their silent King.
But Gojo doesn’t mind them.
He’s sitting up properly on the mattress, eyes widened and locked on- oh.
Locked on you.
It makes you jolt.
For there was a harrowed look in his gaze - as though he’d just stumbled across a carnage site, might perhaps be tempted into creating one. And Gojo’s pupils were the size of pinpricks, the sea of blue around them somewhat glowing—were you going mad? Were they really glowing?
His beautiful face was expressionless and primal.
His head raises into the air and sniffs it-
And suddenly those pearly white teeth display in an animalistic growl.
One by one, the healers follow their monarch’s line of sight - and their lips part as they take you in. His human bride.
Shoko’s the first to take a step forwards, “Your Majest-”
“Out.”
A strange thrill runs through your body.
It’s not that Gojo’s voice was particularly loud, nor was it particularly threatening—but it makes every single hybrid inside the room bow.
Falling to their knees.
They’re nodding once.
And in the blink of an eye, the healers - and most of the guards - are jerking onto their feet and running out - barely even throwing you a glance. Those double doors crack open once more, and you’re realizing that the commotion outside had calmed—you get the strange feeling that if you were to turn around, you would see that every other hybrid there was kneeling, as well.
You don’t know how you’re so sure - but you know he isn’t speaking to you.
In mere moments, it’s only Shoko and Higuruma that remain at Gojo’s bedside. They look at you in concern, and then each other- opening their mouths to say something when—
“Out.”
Gojo’s sole command is followed by gales of wind that clatter the windows open and send the two hybrids toppling. They’re collapsing to the ground from the sheer force - ultimately being pushed up until the tips of your feet.
Their King needn’t say a word more for them to stumble onto their feet and make a break for it.
The doors close thunderously, though not nearly as loud as your racing heart.
The wind dies down as they’re leaving you alone with Gojo, and you’re wondering whether he even realized. Not a single waft of the gales had touched you somehow.
You swallow.
It’s just you and him now.
Him and you.
And you’re not understanding where it came from, but you’re overwhelmed by the sudden feeling to walk over to him-
As soon as the thought manifests in your chest, you blink—
And Gojo Satoru’s standing right in front of you.
Towering figure. Heated pants.
Your dagger falls to the floor.
He was flushed as though burning from the inside out.
You swear that he’s even larger than you remember him—and you do remember him being large in the first place. But Gojo’s size right now was nearly inhuman - he stood about a foot taller than before; and the tips of his fingers had elongated with predator-like claws, the canines of his teeth had grown even sharper.
His fluffy patterned tail swishes agitatedly from side-to-side.
Nostrils flared as he drinks in your air.
Envelopes in it.
You’re hesitating before raising your eyes up to meet his- and a gasp catches in your chest at his contracted pupils. Like a snow leopard on the hunt.
He stares you down like his most delicious prey.
And it should make you run- it should. But your body takes a stuttered step closer, until you could feel the heat radiating off of his body in feverish waves.
You’re keeping your gaze confined to the area of his face n’ his sculptured chest, words picked carefully. “Satoru…”
“Leave.” But whatever was on the tip of your tongue washes away with his breathless tone- voice sibilant as though a prayer. “I need you to—fuck, I wish for you to-”
“I refuse.” And your response bewilders the both of you, “You’ve exhausted your requests of me. Are we not fulfilling the marriage contract?”
“We will- we have—” His blue eyes clench shut, as though he was holding himself back. Fists clenched firmly at his sides, they shake- “Fuck, this was not the planned course for our first meeting. Know that you are free to leave if you so wish - leave the chamber, leave the palace, leave the kingdom-”
“I will not breach the conditions-”
“I rescind the conditions.”
Shock pumps through your body, “Pardon?”
“I wished to romance you, I wished to write to you- I wished to show you the beauty of my kingdom tonight but…those gloves- you made me…” He shakes his head, “War shall not prevail—we shall commence the peace negotiations without a moon spent together.” He’s slicking back his dampened white hair, “O-on the terms of an unforeseen illness, you may leave-”
“What sickness?” You demand.
“Rut.”
Oh.
Oh.
It was one of the preliminary lessons in your hybrid history classes: the rut. A period of intense pheromonal and sexual desire; during which the hybrid grapples with the physical, emotional, and pheromonal desire to mate. It was always a concept that intrigued you. For a hybrid, these ruts are best exhausted when spent with a partner, though unmated hybrids may choose to weather through the week independently.
The mating period ends once the hybrid bites into the scent gland of their partner.
Between hybrids.
So why were you feeling so feverish, as well?
You’re unsteady on your feet- and Gojo’s hands shoot out, but then surge back to his sides as though he thought better than to touch you when he was in this state. “Please-”
“I would like to spend the moon with you.” You’re blurting out before you can stop yourself, drunk on the heady scent of winter pine in the room—was it growing stronger? You look at him squarely, “As newly-weds do.”
His breath catches, “You are not aware what you ask of me-” Though his tail wraps around your ankle.
“I am.”
“You are not aware what you ask of yourself.”
“I am.” Insisting.
Something deep inside you. Something deep inside you. Something deep inside you.
Fingers reaching up to the tie of your nightgown- before getting stopped instantly by Gojo’s hand. He pulls back with a hiss as though you burned—the pine fragrance grows even stronger inside the chamber.
His voice cracks as he looks at you, “You…” Eyes blowing out ferally, “You humans are not built to handle a hybrid in rut. I shall easily ruin you-”
“Then so be it.” Your cunt twitches.
And Gojo sniffs the air as though he could smell it.
He moans.
And in a split-second you’re being tackled to the ground- pounced upon. As though you really were nothing but a pretty prey beneath his fingertips, Gojo spreads your back flatly against the carpeted ground—too far gone right now to even start thinking of the bed.
Hands caging either side of your head. Hot breaths wafting your features like a furnace.
He slots his toned, naked hips between your bent legs and ruts-
“Fuck.”
Before letting out the most erotic sound you’ve ever heard in your life - his spit-slicked lips fall open with it and stay open as he keeps pushin’ his trembling hips into yours. Glazed eyes clenching shut. Perspired head falling behind him.
Again and again.
You’re feeling his thickened, throbbing erection press against your pussy through your thin nightgown. Openin’ up the crevice of your folds and massaging all along your outer cunt - because of how closely he was collapsed on top of you, you couldn’t make out just what his cock looked like. But you could feel the heat, you could feel the pulsing of his prominent veins that glissaded down the damp patch of your entrance and made you squeal—
“Y-Your Majesty-” You buck.
And he’s fucking pinning you down with his capped knees upon your legs. His bodyweight leaning on you. “Satoru.” He whispers breathlessly, eyes wide and somewhat dazed still.
“Pardon?”
The hybrid reaches his hand across your body, “My mate shall call me Satoru.”
Mate…?
The fingers on his dominant hand snake down your front and grab a fistful of that satin nightgown you were wearing- before his claws extract and he’s teeeeearing straight through it. Ripping it into nothing but shreds that he’s throwing blindly over his shoulder.
Soon enough, you’re left in nothing but the scraps of what had once been a decadent robe. And the coating of lust across your body.
The evidence was undeniable - even in the yolky yellow fireplace lighting up the bedroom, there was a lecherous glisten between your legs. Naked. Pulsing.
A pretty gloss that makes Gojo take just one wide-eyed look- and gulp.
You think you can audibly hear the effect merely seeing your dampened cunt has on him, and it sends a thrill up your spine. The bed chambers only seem to be spiking in temperature.
A bead of glitterin’ slick drops from your tight hole, making you shiver as it falls vertically between your pussylips- only to be stopped by a single chaste kiss of Gojo’s swollen cockhead. He grasps his base using his right hand, motioning that plump, puckered tip to point around the orifice of your cunt.
He’s probing the reddened top of his shaft against your hole and letting it stretch just a lil’ bit- “Fuck.” You think that it should be you spewing out the profanities - but it’s Gojo instead. He growls. His blue peripherals roll to the back of his skull as he feels you clench around nothing. “Fuh-fuuuuck.”
“Shit—”
He dots at the pearly bead of slick.
He swirls it around your entrance.
He uses it to lacquer his already-glistening cock before reeling his hips back and pushing in-
You’re gasping, hands coming up to dig your nails into his broad back. “Sa-Satoru-”
And his jaw practically unhinges at the hot, heavenly feeling. “Oh heavens…” Muttering something primal at the back of his throat—“O-oh heavens.” He’s feeling the first few centimeters of his throbbing cock get suctioned in, before there’s a sudden tightness of resistance that makes jerk his hips back and push once more- “Oh my Queen—”
“Satoru…” Just about the only thing that you can say, like a frenzied mantra. Eyes shuttering, “Shit, I think you must know-”
The knobbly edge of his thumb veers between your pussylips, stretchin’ them apart and taking a good look in-between. He pumps even harder - “My Queen—please take it.”
Mewling.
He’s tugging those dampened lips even further apart, “Please fit in.” Only growing more and more desperate the longer your cunt refuses to gobble him up whole, “Please- please fit in–”
“Satoru- fuck.”
Fingertips trembling where they were glued to the side of your pussy, stretching your entrance. Thwack after thwack. “Please take- me-”
“You must-” And he was now hammerin’ his hips into you in short, rapid semi-thrusts just to see himself swallowed up. So tight that it felt nearly impossible. So tight that a single drop of crimson escapes you, “-know that-”
“My Queen-”
“-this is my first time.”
There’s a ragged exhale that gusts across your features, making your eyes fall shut at just how scalding hot it was feeling - molten inside. Every bit of his skin in contact with yours felt as though he was burning up—“Oh.” That pretty, spit-glossed mouth of his falls - he ruts once more. “Oh.”
Your toes curl at the swabbin’ intrusion - Gojo was just so big that it was hard for you to take him. Bigger than any normal human.
And you’re feeling it even more once he’s pulling out.
With the most lecherous squelch! his erection plops out of your geysering orifice and ends up laid between your shivering thighs.
“I see…” Gojo hoarsely mutters, eyes entrenched in a staring competition with your pussy. “Mine, too.”
“Pardon?” You lean up onto your elbows instantly.
“I believe I said—” He trails off, “Mine, too.”
A thousand and one questions are whirling through your mind - everything from why Gojo hadn’t partaken in a mating period prior to this, to why he’d chosen you—
And then you’re blinking.
And suddenly you’re finding yourself sprawled out across his king-sized bed.
Head laid gently against the numerous luxurious pillows, your legs spread apart as though you’d never moved from the floor. You’re faced with the slight inertia of the entire room shifting so suddenly- and it takes you longer than it should’ve to realize that he’d just teleported the two of you once more.
You’re clamoring up to rest upon your elbows, and staring down at the hybrid that’d slotted between your legs now.
His soft strands tickle your body. Gojo’s already shifted until his face was level with your navel - his hot breath wafting across your skin. It sends goosebumps skittering across your middle n’ all the way down to your cunt—
Something that he’s leaning in and sniffing.
Breathing in.
And then Gojo trundles out a low, animalistic growl.
You feel your hips bucking up in response and you’re not quite sure as to why-
But you don’t have the time to ponder upon it for too long before Gojo dips the tip of his looooong, luscious tongue between your pussy’s slit.
He’s sticking just the very edge of his tastebuds fitting between your folds and slide-slide-sliiiiiding down that dampened crevice. Up and down. Slipping between the two and slurping away the dewy droplets of sap that cling onto your cunt-
Gojo halts as the first taste of your pussy trickles into his mouth.
And then he’s gasping his parched lips open- already sounding as though he’s run a fucking field. “So this-” Letting those deep vibrations of his voice scatter right between where you were most sensitive, “-this is what my mate tastes like.”
There it was again—mate.
Your body thrums, taking a strange pleasure in being titled that by the hybrid.
“Wh-what do you mean by m—oh.” Moan turning into a yelp as his fluffy rosette-decorated tail - one you hadn’t even realized was snaking ever-closer to your body - wraps around your right thigh and wrenches you closer to his hungry body. You stare into his eyes- starving.
Plastering his lips against your other ones as though he was fucking famished- Gojo’s nose digs between the wet slit of your core. Delving in-between. “My mate.” The only thing he can manage to utter. The pointed tip pushes on the nub of your clit as though a button, grindin’ away deftly as he’s making out. “My mate, my mate, my mate—”
“Satoru—” You’re crying out, “I-I’ve never done this before…is it supposed to feel this good?”
“Hmmm…” He’s clearly leering against your sensitive parts- and you can feel it. The hardness of his pearly whites tracin’ all over your entrance - “I haven’t partaken in such activities either, is this kitty supposed to taste this sweet?”
You gasp. “You can’t just utter such obscenities-”
To which he pays no attention before rubbin’ his flushed cheek along the inner parts of your thighs—Gojo leans in takes a gooooood whiff of where your pheromones were most saturated. Eyes falling shut as he indulges himself in it, and once he’s opening them back up you swear those pupils of his have transformed into hearts. “Is this kitty supposed to smell this sweet?”
You’re simply bucking in shock at that.
Elongated claws tapping warningly against where he’s holding the right side of your waist, “Settle, my mate.”
And he can smell it- the way your cunt grows even more aroused, even sweeter, at being given this command. Paired up perfectly with your pet name.
That’s when he decides that he’s had enough of lappin’ away at the numerous layers of slick that polished your cunt - he’s had enough.
He wasn’t some little kitty.
Gojo Satoru was a big cat, and that meant he has a big tongue.
Big enough to drown himself completely n’ utterly silly in the sweetened juices leaking out of you. In a mere few moments, he’s licked you completely dry. And he’s spreadin’ away the inside of your rim, scouring his tongue inside for more, more, more—
Long, thorough slashes inside your cunt.
“Sh-shit—” You’re babbling away stupidly, back arching off of the mattress. Ending up draggin’ your pussy even further against Gojo’s mouth - knocking against his nose and making him take your restless body on happily. “Shit, your tongue-” Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, “-it’s sho big—”
“All the better to taste you, dear.” It’s a wonder that Gojo could detach himself from your pussy even for those brief seconds to answer.
Thrusting right between those swollen pussylips of yours- right into that quivering hole. He swirls his thickened muscle around a few times, “And y-you’re so…” You could feel the texture of his uniform, ridged tastebuds molding to the sides of your walls. “-fuck, your tastebuds are so pointed.”
“All the better to feel you, dear.” But of course, if you were in any better state of mind then perhaps you would’ve remembered that snow leopards in particular possessed tongues with specialized tastebuds. Longer. Sharper.
Yet right now, the only thing you’re thinking of is just how good it feels to have Gojo Satoru fuck you with said tongue.
He was just so looooooong and thick. He stuffs you to the brim already.
Spreading and stretchin’ his tongue against your walls- as far inside as it could possibly go. Quite audibly, you swear you can hear the sounds of his wet muscle expanding against that snug channel. “A-and, Satoru…” To him, your mewls sound like the prettiest song he’s ever heard. “-you’re so ravenous.”
He chuckles out something feral - something octaves higher than his usual baritone - against the front of your pussy. Pulling away from it with a wet smack! “All the better to…” And you know the strangely predatory tone of his voice shan’t bode well for you. And you know the way he fucking purrs—yes, purrs as he nears your pussy once more shan’t bode well for you. “-eat you, my dear.”
And then Gojo’s slamming every inch of his tongue back inside you - every fucking inch.
Except, this time…there’s a clear motivation tinglin’ at the honed tip of muscle. You could practically taste it in the soft sizzling wads of spittle that kept on leaking out of you.
Gojo was tonguing at your pussy like a maddened man- letting his nose crush against your clit, letting his canines nip slightly on your bloated folds. He plasters your cunt against his chin, head angled juuuuuust the exact number of degrees it’d take for him to propel his tongue forwards and hit a particular spot inside you.
Your feet anchor onto the luxurious mattress. Your back forms the perfect curvature against the bed.
You’re letting your moans pour out of you twofold as you throw your head back n’ forcefully wrench your hips forward. “There—” Registering, it takes a second for your mind to catch up to the fact that Gojo’s lengthy hybrid tongue has just rammed into your g-spot - with just his tastebuds. “Y-you hit my…I didn’t know that was even—oh, Toru.”
“My Queen.” Hoarse. Hissing. His tone was completely fucked as he uses his powerful tail to tug you even further against his slackened mouth, “My mate.”
“Toru, that feels too-”
“Let this kitty cream on my mouth.” Even his high cheekbones burn a faint crimson at the declaration, though he doesn’t deny nor retract it. “Let this, kitty—” Come to think of it…the snow leopard hybrid was purring as he’s makin’ out between your legs. “-let this kitty cum…”
“Gonna—” Your voice starts hatching at the back of your throat, “G-gonna cum-”
Spurred on by your affirmations, those slashes at your g-spot grow even faster. More frequent.
Deeper.
There’s a tingly buzz coating your outer pussy at the rapid movements of his tastebuds- back n’ forth, back n’ forth, back n’ forth. And you’re feeling your pleasure start to ember even more powerfully as he keeps on planting constant hits and thrashes.
Tugs and pushes.
Hit after hiiiiiiit upon your poor g-spot.
Soon enough, your vision starts to overload with sultry white stars of bliss. And Gojo smells the cloying pheromones on you before you even register it- but you’re cumming.
All over his tongue.
It’s a wave of euphoria that starts from the tips of your toes and explodes where his tongue was diggin’ between your pussylips- before ultimately shooting through every valve, blood vessel, and capillary within you. Taking over you.
Toes curling. Tears shooting up to your eyes.
This might just have been even better than those long, lonely nights beneath your royal covers - when you’d slip in a finger or two and fervently hope that your attendants didn’t need you for anything.
You’re letting out the prettiest few echoes of his name- and you don’t even care who hears you right about now. Because the one person that commanded them all - this entire land - had his head between your legs and his tongue lappin’ away hungrily.
As though he hasn’t had a proper meal in months—you’re suddenly remembering with a jolt that he’d missed dinner tonight.
Gojo manages to probe your most sensitive spot during peak after peak.
Rush upon rush of dopamine flooding your body- he was sure to drag his textured tastebuds along your most precious caverns when those times came. And perhaps if your mind was any less muddled, he’d be able to tell you that he’s timing them perfectly using the spikes of your heady pheromones whenever you felt too good - but he was happy to merely listen to your babble right now. To fuck you stupid with his mouth.
He was tugging aside your pussylips and scraping every inch of your walls as though he wanted his entire nation to hear you—“Mine.” The pointed tip of his tongue tickles your g-spot, “My mate-”
Those mere few droplets of slick you were letting out wasn’t enough for Gojo, and he’s using the unyielding restraint he had on your ankle to keep on gyrating your hips. Manhandling your hips. Grinding your wet pussy against his mouth.
His maw slurpin’ every orifice-
Spreading aside your velvety walls as though he wished to go even deeper. And he’s reaching up his right hand to push aside those swollen lips of yours and—
“Sh-shiiiiit—” You’re just barely surfacing from your last orgasm when you feel something cold n’ clammy sliding down your swollen pussylips.
Claws retracted. The knobbly tips of Gojo’s fingers spread you open—and you’re just starting to wonder which set of hands this is…when you feel the frigidness of his fucking wedding ring probe inwards. It was a band of pure silver far colder than even his own hands- contrasting thoroughly against the heat of your pussy.
You’re whining as though you’re wounded (though it was the complete opposite of feeling as such) as the ice-cold sensation of it circles your sensitive hole a few times.
Gojo teases your entrance before he’s properly sinking in. Taking his time—not at all.
Did you really think that a hybrid in heat took his time? Did you really think that a hybrid in heat didn’t have the patience to merely take his ready mate?
And that was exactly what the King was doing with his perfectly prolonged digits - already having stretched out your cunt enough that he doesn’t have to hesitate before plunging in two fingers into your wet cavern. “Wait- you’re still not done?”
His long lashes flutter, “Would you like me to be, Your Majesty?”
“N-not exactly, it’s just…” And you almost feel shy admitting this to him - even though you’ve already come…so far, there were still some etiquette lessons drilled into you. “-I thought I’d be getting Your Majesty’s cock by now.”
And that makes him stall.
That makes his doughy fingertips lurch up and hit the roof of your cunt—accidentally locating your g-spot with just a bit of swerving.
“Oh.” Gojo’s jaw drops a bit- and those dimples make an appearance once more. “Worry not, my Queen.”
There’s the most long, lecherous sluuuuuurp! as he then pulls his fingers out.
“A beautiful creature such as yourself shan’t be fucked like any other lowly human.” The hybrid leers up at you with a half-lidded gaze, and those fingers of his twitch excitedly at your entrance. He murmurs thickly, “I’m going to breed you.”
Slam!
And that’s all it takes for his fingers to stuff you in every nook n’ cranny.
Those mountainous knuckles of his start up like a battering ram between your legs, and no matter how much you’re squirming at the overstimulation- you can bet on Gojo’s tail to hold you in place. Stronger than it looked with its unassuming demeanor.
Every time you’re being lurched backwards by the sheer force of his fervid thrusts, the King drags you back down using his appendage.
Leaving you not an ounce of mercy as he’s swabbin’ his rounded fingertips into your g-spot—so long that he’d be able to tease that particular bundle and then glide down to swat your cervix.
Your eyes bulge at the feeling of his intrusion, back arching. “O-oh my god—”
“Satoru, you mean.”
“Sato—pardon?” Tears layering over your peripherals, your vision’s starting to become hazy nonetheless. And a shiver runs down your spine as you’re watching his handsome face lean closer to your dripping wet core once more.
All the excitement of Gojo hookin’ his fingers in n’ ruining you from the inside meant that your slick was overflowing. Excess that he leans down to lap his tongue over as though the sweetest nectar- and maybe it really was.
Gojo’s flattened tongue starts rolling the most lewd kitty licks over your throbbing clit—holding eye contact with you all the while. “My mate.”
“Satoru-” You yelp.
“My mate—” The constant rhythmic slamming against your g-spot was starting to make your g-spot feel tender. Perhaps it has even started bruising - perhaps you were hurtling into your second orgasm faster than you might’ve thought.
And it’s with his upper half bowed over your pussy - with his canines gnawin’ away on your clit - that Gojo pushes you into cumming. Again.
He makes yet another zap of euphoria take over your body- so lightheaded now that it felt as though you could keel over at the softest breeze. Your thighs tremble. Your legs fight to wrap around his head.
And Gojo’s taking such utter pleasure in stopping your squirming hips from moving- from smoochin’ and smoochin’ the slender tips of his fingers against your sweetest spots.
“Hafta make my- ngh, mate feel good.” He’s whispering, almost to himself. Gojo runs the plumpness of his fingertips aaaaaaall across your insides, quirking them perfectly when he has to run you through a peak of your high. “Hafta-”
“Cumming—” Too late, you’re bellowing out. “I’m c-cumming, Toru.”
“I know.” He responds simply. “This kitty told me.”
And you swear that’s enough to push you straight over another edge - another high. Sparks of friction breaking out across your skin. As Gojo stimulated your clit n’ your deepest innards to elongate this current one, and past that into another one, and another one, and another-
“Cum—fucking cum, kitty kitty.” He hums.
Four- yes, four of his fingers pushing aside your slick-glazed walls now.
By the time you’re letting the waves of pleasure wash over you, you’re completely and utterly spent. Exhausted. Unable to do anything but lay yourself spread-eagle on the duvet, you’re raising your head weakly to look down at Gojo.
He pulls off of your clit with a lecherous pop!
A few thin strings of spittle still connect you to his mouth, “Brace yourself, my mate.”
“Brace…?” And as he straightens from his position at your feet - from his position worshipping your pussy at your feet - you’re letting your jaw drop. “Oh.”
Because it was justified for him to ask you to brace yourself.
Hell, you might just not make it out alive if you didn’t brace yourself.
You’d already known that Gojo was considerably big from his time ruttin’ against you on the carpeted floor like some animal. But what you didn’t know was just what he looked like exactly.
Large.
Lavished in veins.
It was expected that Gojo would be bigger than a human man - or, at least, what you’d assumed a human man would average based upon your sparse knowledge from anatomy books - but it’s just how much bigger than made your jaw drop. For he was comfortably around eight inches, perhaps even veering into nine.
Seeing the sheer girth of his base was enough to make your thighs squeeze together- squelch! You’d underestimated just how wet you’d gotten.
Plump tip furiously swollen n’ agitated - the merest breeze was enough to make him dollop out a generous serving of his precum. It was flushed a shade of pink that matched the blush upon Gojo’s cheeks as he took in your staring.
Vermicular veins. Throbbing circumference.
And then there were his pretty balls - so full. Decorated along his v-line with a spattering of snow-white hair.
And you found yourself admitting that Gojo Satoru was strangely—pretty.
All the way down to his cock.
You swallow, “S-so?”
“Pardon? And so?” The King cocks his head in cute confusion.
His ancient bedframe then creeeeeaks as you’re lifting your hips up, “Aren’t you going to breed me like you promised, Your Majesty?”
He flinches as though he’s just been struck.
Oh…hasn’t anyone ever taught you not to poke the bear? Or in this case, the snow leopard? Nevermind that now, however, because it was far too late for it - given you’d found yourself married to one.
To the beast that bears his teeth carnally upon your provocation.
To the monster that slots his hips between your thoroughly jittery legs and gives your cunt a gooooood spankin’ with his ruddied tip.
To Gojo Satoru who runs his twitching tip down the forefront of your pussy a few times before he’s spreading apart your pussylips and push-push-puuuuushing. Sinking in his teeth into his lower lip as he sinks his cock into you—and immediately, tears spurt to his eyes.
Gojo’s barely easing an inch between your swollen folds before he’s fucking sobbing-
“It- it feels—” He’s clawing out a few wretched moans from the back of his throat. “It feels s-so—”
“So—?” You’re attempting to coax out of him. This was his first time just as much as yours, and although you might not know much about hybrid mating rituals, one thing was for sure - Gojo was extra, extra sensitive tonight.
“So g—ngh.” Choking those words straight back into his throat- he’s just barely managing to fit his plump, reddish tip in. It was throbbing against your walls and slippin’ inside with the help of your slick. “How can it feel so good?” He hisses.
Your eyes nearly bulge out of your skull, “Pardon? Y-you’re asking me- hck! how?”
“How.” As though no other explanation was needed. Gojo’s fucking into you in shallow, short thrusts—almost nothing. Barely squeeze-squeeze-squeezing the first thickened segment of his shaft inside before he’s met with the resistance of your tight channel- and then he’s pulling back with a pained groan as if it killed him to detach himself from the glutinous embrace of your pussy.
And the more n’ more he’s feeling you—the more he’s utterly breaking upon entering your warmth. “Is there magic that you use? I-is there a spell you’ve put me under?” His grip on your waist trembles.
“No…” You whimper, “And for what reason…”
“For i-it should not be possible for a kitty to feel so…” He groans. Gojo’s eyes are fluttering shut once you give his throbbing girth a little clench, and when he opens them back up again you’re finding those sky-blue peripherals to have been covered with a few layers of tears. “-so delicious.”
“You make it sound as though you wish to- ngh, feast upon me.”
“Perhaps.”
“Perhaps?”
The hybrid edges his perspired head closer to yours, letting the tips of his white bangs tickle your skin. “For what else must newly-weds do on the night of their wedding?”
That silver wedding ring glints on his left hand - both due to the quality of the metal, and due to the fact that it was still covered in the remnants of your sweet juices.
Gojo notices this, too.
And without a single warning, he’s reaching his hand up and sucking off the glaze of slick. Looking you straight into your dilated pupils as he does so.
It sends a carnal throb down to your cunt that he sniffs in the air-
And then everything’s happening at once.
Gojo’s jolting, Gojo’s grasping both of your pretty legs and throwing them over his shoulders. Hands upon either side of your limbs n’ wrangling them easily as he bends his upper half down looooow—kissing his sweaty forehead to yours.
The sudden change in positions makes you keen. “A-and you’re completely sure you’re inexperienced, Toru?”
“Promise, my mate.” He exhales into your mouth. “I’d never take another but you.”
And though the gesture had started off sweet…the further his mazin’ tip scoured in, the sharper his canines grew against your poor wobbly lips. The stronger his body seemed to grow in response to pinning your needy hips down and shoooooooving rude cock inside-
“Take it.” Gojo snarls into the crook of your neck, “Take it.”
“Please—” Being pushed constantly up towards the mahogany headboard.
“Take- oh.” Absent-mindedly, he wraps his powerful tail around your left thigh once more. Stopping you from being jostled back and forth because of the sheer force of his rovering hips- hips that were just hungry to feel his mate warped around his entire, rock-hard cock.
And you wonder whether he even realized.
Because if you thought it was far-fetched to assume that Gojo Satoru was breaking on your pussy just from the ruined state of his voice, then you’d be sorely mistaken.
The longer he’s tunneling between your sodden pussylips, the more n’ more he’s less the composed gentleman you’d been married to at the altar. “Take it-” To be quite honest, you’d be comfortable stating that he was becoming more hybrid than human the longer he was in lecherous contact with the wet cavern of your cunt. “Take it, take it, take it—please.”
Tears falling down his pretty cheeks.
The longer his thrusts became, the more hidden crevices inside you that he was opening up. You’d been completely right to ogle Gojo’s massive cock- because right now it felt like he was splitting you in half.
In the best way.
“You need to take it, sweetheart—” Gojo damn near whimpers, “You n-need to take your mate’s cock…”
He was straightening out the smallest crevices at your innards, he was digging his claws deeeeep against the sides of your thighs. Pulling you back after every thrust.
And it’s not long before Gojo finds himself completely bottoming out.
Letting his divot baaawl out a few ribbons of pre that slick towards your womb. Letting his bulbous, blushin’ tip thud! away at the very back of your cervix.
The silken bedsheets are bunching up where Gojo’s knees were scrambling to get even closer to the bottom of your pussy. Attempting to push his probin’ cockhead even deeper inside your sponge-covered depths, Gojo’s practically falling over himself to bend you in half.
To bend and to bend.
To thrust and to thrust-
The bed creaks in a cacophony that accurately represents just how he’s fucking you like he’s furious. Body burnished in heat. Hissing and snarling between his clenched fangs.
Those unfairly attractive hips of his were affected, too, because they’re starting to stutter forwards as though he’s just found heaven inside of you. Reeling his hips aaaaaall the way back in reverse - until his rounded, reddened tip was the only thing holding your entrance open.
And then Gojo wastes no time before pounding himself inside all the way till the hilt.
The very hilt.
You’re squirming at the patch of his white, white hair that scratches your pretty clit. “A-and about the breeding thing…”
“Hmmmm?”
“Are you really going to fuck me- ngh, pregnant, Toru?”
Awwwww—how cute. Those glowing azure eyes of his widen in amusement- or perhaps something else entirely that you weren’t able to pinpoint. He leans in with a simpering smile, “Fuck you pregnant? How crass.”
“N-ngh—” Your head throws back at the feeling of his globular cockhead lining down your g-spot. He ends up rubbin’ over that particular bundle of nerves for a few seconds, before glissading a hit straight to your womb-
“I’m going to make you my mate, my Queen.”
“Oh-”
“Officially.”
You’re unsure what exactly such an arrangement between hybrids would entail—but all you know is that you want it. Badly.
A primal desire deep-rooted into your very being, one that you couldn’t explain even if you tried - it was from the depths of your soul, pouring outward in every ribbony wire of slick that you were letting out. All for Gojo Satoru. Clinging onto Gojo Satoru.
It’s coating his thickened cock in numerous layers that glisten underneath the pale lighting of a royal chamber, splatterin’ between your two bodies as his frenzied pace only accelerates. “Sa-Satoru—”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
It always sent such a shocking thrill across your body to realize that he was the one referring to you like that - perhaps your most formidable foe yet.
And the massive bedframe creaks as you’re raising your hips up to meet his- the constant smack-smack-smacking of skin on relentless skin growing in pitch and volume. “I need it.” Looking at him through your tear-drenched lashes, “I need it s-so badly—”
“What is it?” He breathes out in an almost desperate tone. Gojo presses his lips to yours and kisses you in a way that was so fucking filthy—he’s flickering his tongue in and out, fishing out the sweet wads of your saliva. Before leaning his head back a bit and spitting between your wobbling lips - claiming every spot inside you that he wanted to. “What is it that you wish for, my Queen?”
Before anything else, his right hand then snakes between your two sweaty bodies.
Familiarly locating your cute clit and giving a few niiiiice rolls between his index and his thumb.
“Tell me—” He responds. He begs. “Tell me what it is your heart desires-” His sentences and syllables being punctuated by a solid slam against the back of your pussy every time. “Tell me, and I shall move mountains and heaven for you, my mate.”
And after such a declaration, a part of you almost feels embarrassed about the next words out of your mouth—“I want you to…cum inside me, Toru.”
He jolts. “Sweetheart, are you aware-”
“Not that.” Gojo answers - and the sudden leer that follows is something that makes your lips part. Something that was certainly not going to bode well for you or your poor pussy…“Sweetheart, are you aware that-”
And before he’s finishing that particular sentence, Gojo reaches down and gently clasps your dominant hand in his own.
He tugs it down between his legs-
To where you’re feeling the smooth gliiiide down his erect shaft—down every single curve, crevice, and vein. He was just so long that this made you squirm. Ultimately, you’re ending up with your fingertips pressed against the very start of Gojo’s hilt, where the carpet of his white hair was just ending.
And you’re wondering just what it is he was trying to oh-so-lecherously make you feel when…
When your palm pushes up against something so very thick and swollen at the base of Gojo’s cock. And you’re just gasping-
“A-are you aware of the effect you have on me, Your Majesty?” Gojo’s ragged tone permeates your hearing, punctuated by the constant thrashes n’ bucks of his hungry cock. Inside, inside, inside. “Are you aware that this is how you make me feel?”
He crushes your hand even further against that extra swollen portion of his erection, “And h-how exactly…”
He falters, “Pardon?”
“How exactly is…this, Toru?”
“How exactly?” He’s hissing through his teeth, tone wavering unsteadily. He sounds ruined, he sounds shattered—he sounds gone. There’s almost a sense of amusement in his tone as though you were pulling on his leg - he bores deeeeply into your eyes whilst he fucks you. “How exactly—?”
“Y-ye—oh.”
Slam!
At that very moment, he’s rammin’ his hips into yours so hard that the skin around his pelvis reddens. Stings.
And Gojo himself can’t help but let his head fall backwards with a guttural hiss, those pretty white brows of his knotting—“Fuh-fuck.” Before starting to rut down in even sloppier pushes of his firmed-up cock.
Hard.
Fast.
Your ass cheeks were practically refusing to have contact with the bedspread below. Just bent that far.
The question he’d asked you earlier had been a rhetorical one - though that doesn’t stop Gojo himself from pistoning into you as though he was attempting to fuck the answer out of you. As though he was hoping the globular edge of his shaft would reach your pretty brain, n’ swerve around a bit to ultimately activate whatever part of you there was that’d understand.
To flick a switch on - something carnal.
Once you’ve been pounded utterly stupid- Gojo presses down with his mazing cockhead until you’re filled up to the very hilt. And you can feel the swollen ring at his base start to relax against the front of your puckered pussylips, “What you need to know is…this is a knot, sweetheart.”
“A knot?” Babbling through your tears.
“A knot.” Gojo affirms, “And do you know what hybrids do to their mates using their knots?”
Shaking your head.
“First, we claim our mates.” He’s draggin’ his roughened thumb down between your sultry pussylips and rolling over your clit. If you were in any clearer a state of mind right now, perhaps you’d have noticed that he was spelling out his first fucking name on top of that swollen nub. “First, we fuck them until they can’t speak—can’t move—can’t do anything but beg for more.”
You’re bucking upwards greedily, and in response he’s letting out a growl. “Y-yes, and?”
“Then we let them cum a few cute times—” He’s giggling at the way your mouth drops in realization - he was doing the exact same thing to you.
Was technically, still doing the exact same thing to you with the way he’s stimulating every fibre of your being. “And then-”
“Then we get them in a cute- hah, mating press.” His fluffy tail swooshes around before looping around your left thigh and tightening, veering dangerously close to the in-betweens of your legs. As if he was sharing his most precious secret in the world with you, Gojo leans dooooown until his lips were at your ear- “Then we cum so much inside them that they can’t even breathe without feelin’ me all inside your pretty kitty.”
Sobbing, “Th-then—?”
“Then…” The King’s reeling his powerful hips backwards, all the way until he’s nearly pulled out. Only the better to fuck you with…“Then m’fucking you with my fat knot until you can’t even think about letting my cum go to waste, my mate.”
“Oh—”
And with one hand braced upon the right side of your head - the other furiously toying with your perked clit - Gojo’s striking your pussylips in constant thwacks! Thwack! after thwack!
Trying to get his knot to fit inside.
Gojo’s vein-covered cock massaging your walls in such a frenzy just feels so good- “O-oh my god…” You’re babbling out, “Toru, m’gonna cum again.”
“Good.”
“Toru, m’gonna cum now—”
“Good.”
Those half-lidded blue eyes of his were locked on every expression you were making - even the tiniest shifts and twitches. His nostrils flare once you’re feeling your stomach give into the surges of pleasure shooting up from your cunt—and the hybrid seems to know before even you do when you’re crash-landing straight into your nth high of the night.
You’ve seriously lost count.
“C-cumming…” You mewl out weakly- hands coming up to clasp onto his sweaty head. Pressing your lips against his as he fucks you through every zap of pleasure. “Feels so good- ngh, feels so good—”
“Is that so?” He harkens, “Is that so, Your Majesty?”
“Never felt anything better-”
Eventually, your high rises and falls faster than it has before - solely due to the sheer number of times tonight. It’s nothing but the splash of dopamine that engulfs your body and leaves it sizzling with pleasure moments afterwards.
Even the slightest rub-a-dub of Gojo’s veiny patterns leaves you gaping. Those aftershocks were so strong that it makes your eyes tear up—“I need it.”
Before long, Gojo feels you grab onto a handful of his perspired hair and haul him even closer. And he can’t deny the way that makes his swollen tip twitch just a little harder inside you-
“I need you to c-cum inside me…” You’re pleading up at him, “Need you to- ngh, mate me, Toru.”
“Oh…” After a few more sloppy strikes, he’s letting his tail drift up from your legs to your abdomen. Just where your spine ended, you’re feeling that powerful appendage of his push up on your body and arch your hips up a bit further. “Then brace yourself, my mate.”
And it takes only a single, slammin’ thrust for him to empty out his wads of cum.
Bucketload upon bucketload that he’d been waiting to pour into you for soooooo fucking long now. Thick. Treacly. Those constant ribbons of cum web your insides like a flood, splashin’ around and helping him reach your womb in no time.
It’s just so hot and wet.
It’s just bloating up those poor pussylips of yours- before the man himself eases down his pace to better end up pushin’ those wettened wads inside.
You could physically feel the flared ridge of his mushroom tip—spreading apart those gluey walls of yours and fucking his cum even deeper. Deeper. “Fuck.” Clinging onto every nook n’ hidden cranny inside you as you’re getting utterly stuffed—straight to the brim. It’s already starting to froth outwards, “Fuck-”
“Settle, my mate.” Gojo’s dragging you in with his fluffy white tail, ears flattened in pleasure. It takes a single tug for him to jerk you down- “Shhhhhhh shhh shh, settle.”
“I’m- I’m trying—”
“We’re not even halfway done yet.”
“Pardon?”
It’s the last thing you’re hearing before Gojo jerks his hips forward and fucks his knot past that first ring of your entrance - only about halfway through.
The Hybrid King has to use his hand upon your clit to stretch your pussylips apart- to ease your elastic hole to the side just a bit before he’s siiiiiiiinking his thickened base inside. It takes a few tries - a few animalistic bucks - for him to finally fit his knot between your legs with the loudest slurp. “Got it—”
Gojo’s hissing breath cascades down the front of your body, and his clammy head drops into the crook of your neck.
“G-got you.”
Before you know it, you’re feeling the sharp punctures of his canines against your swollen scent glands. Those sensitive bumps against the side of your neck - you’d noticed them growing more and more inflamed throughout the course of the night, and they’re just so volatile as Gojo sinks his leopard-like fangs in.
You feel something deep inside you pop!
Your scent gland. Or whatever it was that humans had similar…
And he holds you there like this - like a predator with his teeth dug into the throat of his prey - until both your waves of bliss have completed. Until he’s emptied his swollen balls inside of you, and he’s completely n’ utterly sucked dry by the wettened warmth of your pussy.
You’re squirming at the feeling of his heaping puddles of ivory deep inside you—“T-Toru.”
Gojo finally pulls off with a heated pwah! and stuffs his face into the crook of your neck. “Yes, my mate?”
Mate. Mate. Mate.
Now you were officially his mate.
His knot was pulsing deep inside you, softening ever-so-slightly as the moments pass.
You’re running your hands through his perspired air, “I just wanted to know…” Wording your sentence carefully, your sentiments hidden. “Why m-”
“Who else would it be but you?” He’s interrupting you instantly. Immediately, Gojo pulls away and peers at you with his widened eyes—“Forgive me, Your Majesty, but in this life and every other…” He grasps your hand and presses his pinkish lips to the back of it, “-this lowly hybrid has always been fated to be yours.”
“Every other?” You ask with bated breath.
“Every other.” He affirms. “In every life, we were meant to find one another…” And he looked almost shy admitting such a thing—“We hybrids…we can feel it. Though for you humans, it may not be so strong.”
“Oh.” Your mouth drops softly.
“But even if we weren’t…” Gojo finally tears his eyes off of you- as though it pained him to not have you before his gaze for even a mere moment. “—I would have found you if it tore down the Earth.”
And then you’re turning with him.
Following his line of sight.
Right to the wall of his bedroom that you’d noticed had been painted before- but never noticed exactly with what upon it—
It was a painting of you.
More specifically, of a landscape from what you’d assumed to be this very bedroom: the sprawling valleys and fields that led up to your kingdom. The thorn barrier that separated him from you. Though no barrier could ever possibly hide the spiral of your wing, the blinking light that you’d put out every night - hoping, just hoping that someone would see it and answer.
How had you not noticed this before?
Perhaps, in your own way, you’d been searching for him, too.
“I would like to stay, Satoru.” You breathe, as if a secret. “I would like to stay- and I would also like for you to love my kingdom just as much as I shall love yours.”
“Then it shall be done.” He presses his forehead to yours, “Revenge has never been my strong suit.‘
Unbeknownst to yourself, you’ve teared up- and Gojo reaches down to gently wipe those hot tears away. He murmurs deeply, “My mate…”
“Yes, my husband?”
“We’re going to rule the world.”
You’re learning two more things about hybrids in the succeeding hour.
The first being that they really did have a particular talent for the arts - Gojo especially, considering that he’d been the one to paint most of the artworks in the palace. Including this one.
Synopsis . The last thing you told your ex-best friend before he was dragged off to jail for arson was one well-deserved, 'fuck you.' Five years later, he broke out of prison, and now he's coming to make good on those words. (nonnie req)
Pairing . fugitive!Sukuna x fem!reader / Content . afab!reader, rough sex, possessiveness, a hint of yandere!sukuna, implied stalker!sukuna, manhandling, heavy tension, confessions, creampies, mirror sex, manipulation, jealousy, full nelson, filth, sukuna’s quite literally insane, heavy yearning, violence, major pain kink, toxicity, dirty talk, slight angst, blood, pet names, praise, degrading, he has a dick tattoo, spitting, squirting, orgasm denial/edging, biting, breeding kink, obsession, reader in denial, death threats, attempted murder (?), making up for lost time, etc. / wc . 9.7k
A/N: This might be one of the craziest things I've ever written... Banner art by Rororogi Mogera. (Kinktober Masterlist.)—Ignore how we’re well into November now. Not proofread, sorry if there's any errors! [MDNI]
Your best friend tried to kill you.
Multiple times, in fact. That was the harsh reality of having a man like Sukuna as your closest friend; he was absolutely insane.
Piss him off even the slightest bit and he was sending you all sorts of violent threats, no matter who you were. So, for some reason, when it came on to you—the only friend bold enough to put up with him for the past ten years—he always made sure to follow through on those threats of his.
And as of recently, the man had set your house on fire as you were inside. For what? Oh nothing, just overhearing you have the audacity to refer to another man that wasn’t him as your best friend.
Totally not an overreaction.
——
You remember being laid across your bed, phone in hand as you yapped away to a new friend of yours. Now, you and this friend got along because he was the complete opposite of Sukuna. He didn’t threaten you over petty things, didn’t curse you out and call you mean nicknames, and most importantly, he wasn’t batshit crazy.
While you were busy half-listening to your friend’s voice on the line, you began to smell the faint scent of something acrid. The smell made your face scrunch up, nose crinkling as your brows furrowed and you glanced around your room. You thought that maybe you could’ve left the stove or oven on somehow, even though you don’t remember turning either of those things on..
The scent reminded you of burnt toast if it was intensified to the third degree so, clearly something was burning.
“Are you even listening to me…?” The man on your phone grumps. You could practically picture the pout on his lips, “Hellooo?”
Shaking out of what’s got your expression shifting, “Yeah-, yes, I’m here,” You replied hurriedly, “Sorry, Satoru, gimme a second.” You end up telling him as that smell from the first floor of your home began to grow stronger.
The whole thing was making you very uneasy and it didn’t take much for you to feel the panic seeping up into your veins as you slipped out of your bed and went rushing towards your door. As soon as you opened it, you were smacked in the face with clouds of thick, black smoke that made you cough, bringing one hand up to cover your nose as you ducked and walked out into the wall of heat coating your home’s air.
“You alright over there?” Gojo had asked you, having heard your coughs and even catching a faint crackling as the phone picked it up into the call.
Between another cough, “Yeah, m’fine,” You say jokingly, “My house is just on fire.”
“What??” He gasps, taking in the full severity of the situation, “Shouldn’t you be calling the cops or something?”
You’re leisurely making your way down the hall with your nose still covered and your body slightly hunched over so you don’t inhale too much smoke. This isn’t the first time a certain someone has set something of yours on fire so you suppose that’s why you’re more annoyed than you are scared as you make your way to the edge of your staircase.
Standing there, you lean into the phone a little more. “Yeah, I’m getting to it…” You tell Gojo, easing your way down the steps to peak around the corner and see that the fire is much bigger than what you were expecting.
Again, this isn’t the first time that “best friend” of yours went setting shit on fire in your house. But, this is the first time he set your actual house aflame. Your eyes widen and all that casualty you previously had died inside you as big, wild flames pop and crackle with heat from your living room.
“Oh shit,” You gasped, “S-Satoru, I’ll call you back.”
“Are you oka—“ Before he could even finish, you were hanging up and moving with shaky fingers to dial the police.
And somewhere under all those flames, you swore you heard laughing. Sick, maniacal, and twisted laughter—a sound of which you’d come to recognize anywhere.
Everything that happens after that is one big ugly blur of events. Such an innocent night had turned into something foul all because you’d called Gojo one of your best friends earlier in the day. You don’t even know how the fuck Sukuna got wind of that comment but low and behold, he was the one who set your living room on fire.
The cops were called shortly after you’d discovered the flames and you remember having to be transported out safely in the arms of one hulky blonde fireman, who Sukuna then tried to attack before he was swiftly arrested and pinned to the ground by policemen.
Outside of your home, the two of you had argued back and forth from a distance while they worked cuffs over his wrists. You don’t remember the details of what you’d shouted at him as most of what you spewed was in anger but you do still picture the crazed smile the man had on his face every time you said something especially vicious to him. That was exactly why he liked you so much–, or rather, liked being your friend so much.
Sukuna always adored how you never let him walk all over you, even after he’d literally burnt a part of your house down.
Somewhere between him getting arrested and that sweet blonde fireman—who’s name you noted as Nanami—Sukuna happened to see a gently clothed hand cleanse your face from the few ashes that’d covered your features. The only thing you heard was a snap as he’d broken out of the cuffs and launched himself forward.
It was an even bigger mess from then on.
You barely remember seeing that poor fireman get punched in the face, to which you jumped up, went swinging at Sukuna and… yeah, it was bad. Really bad.
It took multiple police officers and firefighters to pry the two of you off of one another. Well, more like to pry you off of him. You’d landed multiple blows to his face and quickly caused his nose to bleed but, the thing about that entire altercation that had you livid was the fact that he was smiling throughout each second of it.
This was another thing that wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to do. You’d done almost everything under the sun towards one another within the past ten years that you were acquainted—which yes, includes fighting one another. Though, the fighting in question mostly consisted of you hitting him and Sukuna just taking it.
He may have been crazy in every other field imaginable but he'd, surprisingly, never hit a woman. Especially not you.
While you'd been beating up on the man and just before the officers had pulled you two apart, you do remember one more little detail that still manages to cling to your mind to this day.
It was just as an officer had shouted something along the lines of, "Stop right there!" that you recall the glint in Sukuna's eyes dimming and the way his smug smirk flickered. It seemed like reality had finally settled back into his head for a moment and even though you still had a partially bloodied fist hoisted up, ready to land on his face again, you swear that second stretched out longer than it should've before his voice came out ever so softly.
"Fun's over, huh?" Sukuna had whispered to you, as if he somehow knew and fully expected this to be his last moment seeing you. He understood that he was going to jail for all this but that wasn't exactly his biggest concern.
His main thing here was that he had to accept the fact that you probably hate him now—
"Fuck you." You spat, finally, before he could even finish his thought.
If the pill wasn't a tough one to swallow previously, it damn sure was then.
You were pulled off of him seconds later and he was dragged away—this time towards the back of a police car—and although there was something distant and somber about the way his eyes still lingered on you and that same fireman who came to help you, he kept those two words of yours in the forefront of his mind.
After all, it was the last thing you'd said to him.
“Are you okay?” Nanami ended up asking you as he stepped impossibly closer and was quick to tend to you as if his condition wasn't worse off. Concern was etched all into his features but, even though you heard him, your eyes were busy fixed onto Sukuna.
You managed a nod and felt the man's hands reach for yours to clean the blood off of them. You should've been able to take your eyes off of the same guy who literally just set your house on fire and then proceeded to attack someone just for helping you.
And yet, there you were, letting Nanami's smooth suggestion of, "Let’s get you checked out,” flow through one ear and out the other.
Even as he gently pulled you away from the scene, your mind was one big mess of confliction. You're supposed to hate Sukuna now, obviously. He was insane!
But... he's always been that way and somehow, you've always forgiven him for it. Maybe it was because there was more good with him than there was bad. Or perhaps it was because he was the only man you knew could match your crazy.
Part of you wanted to go and fight for Sukuna's freedom after the whole ordeal, y'know, that really delusional and stupid part of you. And the other half of you knew that the sensible thing to do here was to leave him where he was. Maybe a couple years in jail would do him some good.
Right?
——
That was five years ago from now, where your home has since been repaired and free of the violent crimes of which your ex-best friend committed against you.
Luckily, you listened to the logical half of your brain and went against fighting for his freedom or contacting him at all, no matter how many times you found yourself missing him.
These days you try to convince yourself that you don't even think about him as much but, every time you bring a new guy into your life it just feels weird or, something feels like as though it were crawling up your spine. Especially if you tried to talk to someone romantically.
You'd always experience this odd lump of guilt eating away at you and it made you feel strange considering the fact that you should feel free of Sukuna's control over you and who you date. You'd been in relationships before he was locked up, after all.
Even though most of them ended in the weirdest ways...
You remember how one guy told you how he didn't want to die just for dating you. At the time you laughed it off, thinking he was being dramatic, but looking back on it now... perhaps Sukuna had something to do with it?
There was also the time a guy completely ghosted you just a few days after you'd both admitted you were in love with one another. You don't know what that was all about but, again, looking back on it now...
To take your mind off of the man you're not supposed to be thinking about, you end up fishing for your remote after plopping down on your living room couch. The TV soon flicks on and you shove all thoughts of your ex-best friend into the very back of your mind where he belongs.
He's exactly where he's supposed to be now anyway; rotting in a cell somewhere.
On a brighter note, for the past five years straight you've been living your best life. For the most part, anyway.
You and that nice blond fireman got closer through the years and he often comes over to your house to give you some company after you'd explained how Sukuna was your closest friend years ago. You know Nanami visits you out of pity but, you never exactly reject him.
The only unfortunate thing about that situation is the fact that every time he flirts with you, you can't find it in yourself to reciprocate. There's nothing wrong with him and he'd be a good fit for you, truly. The issue here is that you can't ignore how wrong you feel when you're with him.
He could be doing nothing more than sitting on your couch watching TV with you and yet you felt as though you had Sukuna's eyes burning into the very back of your skull—watching, judging, daring. There was even a time you and Nanami tried kissing. He wasn't bad at it and neither were you, something was just wrong about it and you didn't know what it was.
Perhaps Sukuna had unconsciously conditioned you into some sort of deep rejection towards anyone that wasn't him and you hadn't realized it.
Things only became clear for you when the same thing happened with Gojo. Who you tried going on dates with, tried to let spoil you, and even tried sleeping with. All of which failed miserably, especially that last little act. You'd felt off the entire time, so much so that you don't even think you were turned on.
Which was crazy to think about considering he's Gojo Satoru! It's not like you weren't into him.
He'd treated and touched you better than any guy ever had before—as did Nanami—but maybe that was the problem. Maybe you didn't want something that was smooth and gentle with you. Maybe you needed the craziness you only knew to come with the asshole sitting in prison right now.
Or at least... the asshole that was sitting in prison.
The moment your TV finally turns on, there's a news report playing that instantly snatches up your attention and makes every vein in your body run cold. The report ahead explains how a man who'd been convicted for arson had recently escaped prison and has been on the run for at least three days now.
You swallow thickly and your eyes quickly flock around to various corners of your house. Three days? Logically speaking—and not like you looked this up before or anything but—that's about the same amount of time it would take for him to get to your house on foot...
You turn back to your TV and sink further into your couch, turning the volume up to listen intently to the rest of the report before you drive yourself insane. The fugitive could be anyone after all. Arson is a pretty common crime to commit, isn't it?
"—The man is said to be at least six feet tall with pink hair, dark red eyes, and tattoos all over his face," The woman on your screen adds on suddenly before a mugshot pops up just a few inches away from her.
Aaaand fuck, it's him.
You immediately shoot up from your seat and start rushing around your house to make sure all the doors are locked and that every window is shut tightly. Hell, you even consider bordering up all exits and entryways.
The sound of your heart racing in your chest thumps all the way up against your eardrums as you fight with the increasing sensation of paranoia rising within you. You move all throughout your home, slamming doors shut and double-checking each lock with slightly trembling hands.
You hate how all it took was one little report to have you all anxious and thinking about him again. It's been five years. Maybe you saw the report wrong, maybe it was about that younger, identical nephew of his...
No, no, that doesn't even make sense. He was just a kid the last time you saw him and from what you remember, he wants to be nothing like his crazy ass uncle.
Fuck.
Over six feet tall, pink hair, dark red eyes, tattoos all over his face... Only one person fits that description and you know it.
Fuck.
You saw his face too, you can't just ignore that and try to convince yourself it isn't him.
The news is still playing off in the background, echoing throughout the walls of your house almost hauntingly now as you struggle to ignore the punctuating reality of Sukuna no longer being behind bars.
"He's not coming here," You mutter to yourself, despite the suddenly pounding memories of him flooding right back into the forefront of your mind.
Fuck.
It's been five years, there's no way he's going to escape from prison just to come torment you again. Or worse, to come get revenge from you not coming to see him all this time...
Then again, if you still can't help but think about him in moments where you really shouldn't be, he's probably been doing the same thing. Hell, you're probably the only thing on his mind right now.
Something in your chest throbs at the mere idea. You don't know why that invoked such a physical reaction from you, it's not like you've ever liked the guy or anything like that.
Aside from the first few years of your friendship when you had the biggest crush on him.
But that was fifteen years ago, feelings like that don't linger this long. Feelings like that shouldn't linger for this long, not after he's burned down a quarter of your house and has been sent off to jail for it.
For a moment you consider dialing the police but, what exactly would they do aside from send an officer or two out to your house for the night? Your phone is in your hands now and all you're doing is staring at the screen with a million thoughts in your head.
You can't call the police, that'd just end in another big brawl between you and Sukuna before he's arrested again and, unfortunately, the last thing you feel like doing is fighting anymore. You don't think you have the energy for that, especially not this late into the night. So, you end up pocketing your phone and instead head back to your living room.
Up until you hear a sudden thud from somewhere behind your house.
Your heart sinks into your ass and you freeze. Straining your ears to catch more sounds, you slowly turn on your heels and creep back towards your kitchen. The floorboards beneath your steps creak softly but you swear you hear a distance set of steps creeping around as well.
Yet, when you stop, the sound stops as well.
So perhaps you were just driving yourself insane?
Yeah, that's probably it. It's been five whole years, Sukuna would not spend all that time thinking about you and then turn around and come back to the same woman who got him thrown into jail. He's crazy but he's not that crazy.
Taking one more stretchy moment to let the silence linger on, you release a long sigh and pace into your kitchen. Just in case, you still want to have a weapon on you in the event that your delusions turn out to be true.
Right before you reach the knives, the sound of your house phone ringing like something out of a cliche slasher movie cuts through the air and easily scares the shit out of you.
Flinching, you hurry over to it and scramble about to get the phone into your hands properly, quickly lifting it up to your ear. "Hello?" You call out with a slightly shaky voice.
At first there's no sound, just static. Which, of course makes you want to hang up.
You've never been a fan of scary shit and the only person who knows that about you is Sukuna. So if the creepy silence was telling you anything, it's that it was definitely him—
"Hey, have you seen the news?" Gojo's voice rings out to you after one too many deafening seconds of eerie silence.
With a heavy sigh of relief, you almost smile into the phone. Thank God it's just him. "Yeah," You reply half-breathily, "Of course I saw it."
There's a slight sound of shuffling over the phone and you think you hear keys for a moment, "Do you want me to come over? Y'know, just in case that maniac shows up?"
You're shaking your head before speaking, "No, no, you don't have to do all that, Satoru. I'm fine-, it's fine."
"You don't sound fine..." He points out.
You roll your eyes for a moment, hating how well he's gotten to know you over the past few years. Leaning against your kitchen counter a little, you glance over at the knives just a few inches away from you, "How do I sound then?"
Gojo scoffs harmlessly, "Shaken up."
You're quiet for a moment and within it, it's almost like your breathing is echoing around you. Ignoring the intensified sound, you shake your head and shut your eyes for a second to ground yourself, "I'm fine, really."
The man over the phone lets out a long hum and you could almost hear the skeptical look on his face, "I'd be over in fifteen minutes top, y'know... I just-"
"Satoru," You cut off gently, "Seriously, I'm okay. I... I know how to handle myself and I doubt he's even coming here. It's been three whole days after all. He's probably on the other side of the country by now."
"Right..." Gojo trails off for a moment before shrugging, even though you can't see it. "Well, if you're sure. Just uh," He clicks his tongue slightly and leans into the phone, voice getting a little louder against your ear, "Call me if you need anything."
"I will, I will." You promise, "Goodnight, Satoru. A-And don't call my house phone anymore, you scared the shit out of me."
He chuckles, "Sorry, you weren't picking up your cell so I got a little worried. But, yeah, goodnight, sweetheart."
You place the house phone back into its original place and the call ends there. Your hand lingers on top of the phone for a bit before you slowly slide your touch away and let your shoulders relax.
All the tension that'd been there just a moment ago has died down a little and you feel calmer now.
See? Everything is perfectly fine.
But, it wouldn't hurt to grab one of those knives just in case...
Fishing through the knife holder, you eventually pluck one up and bring it closer to you for inspection. You let the blade's end tap against your finger softly to make sure it's sharp, not exactly cutting yourself but just checking it out. Then, you breathe out another sigh as if to steady yourself again.
You had a weapon and you could call up Gojo if anything else went sideways so, everything was okay.
Just as you turn around, that last little thought of yours is practically fucked out of your head violently. There's a tall, brooding frame of a man standing a few feet away from you inside of your kitchen, the sight of him enough to make your entire body flinch with a physical force strong enough for you to drop the knife you just picked up.
You shoot down for the weapon you dropped and scramble it back up into your hands before rising up to your feet again, seeing that the man who'd just scared you hasn't moved an inch.
As your breath remains uneven and weighted with fear, the male inside your house is standing there with that signature smile of wickedness plastered all over his face. Cocking a thick pink brow, which you notice has two slits in one them, "'Sweetheart', huh?" He drawls, voice all dense with a baritone that fills every inch of the space between you both.
Your eyes are wide and frantic, running over every bit of your ex-best friend standing before you, trying to figure out whether or not this is real or just some fucked up nightmare. His hair, that same bright pink you know it to be, is all unkempt and wild atop his head as his eyes, low-lidded and dark, steadied onto yours.
"What the hell are you doing here?" You hiss out slowly, sounding unsure in your own tone given the abundant sense of unease inside you.
You watch his lower, rose-toned lip get pulled in between his teeth at the mere sound of your voice before his head angles to the side in slow motion. Then he lets his crimson eyes drag up and down the expanse of your frightened frame and swallows up every inch of you with his gaze alone. It's only been a few seconds and you felt as though you were shrinking under him already, despite the distance between you.
Sukuna's voice carries out with the same rasp that never fails to drive you insane, "Awh, come now," He coos with a pout of mocking smearing across his face for a moment, "Is this any way to greet your best friend? Pointing a knife at me as if it hasn't been years since we've last seen one another."
Your eye twitches in annoyance, "You set my fucking house on fire!"
He visibly reacts to the elevation in your tone with a rise of his brows and a slight adjustment backwards as if you'd pushed at him. "Surely you're not still mad about that," He purrs lowly before taking a small step forwards and ignoring the blade you have aimed his way.
You shift backwards but you merely meet the counter and realize you'd have to run left or right if you wanted to escape him. That, and most of the exits are somewhere behind him.
"You need to leave," You breathe hotly, "Get out before I call the cops again or I swear to—"
"Call the cops again?" Sukuna scoffs loudly and his next step closer makes the floor groan distantly under his bulky frame, "You think they can keep me locked up forever? I escaped once, I can do it again." Now he's only a few more steps away from you and you've yet to pry yourself away from your spot.
You hate how you can hardly move under his gaze, as if you'd been put under some type of spell or something, your body condemned to stay in place.
"And do you know where I'll come once I do?" He adds on slowly, sneaking nearer until he's only one step away from your personal space. "Right," The distance lessens as he takes that final step, "Back," Sukuna extends an arm out and you feel it brush against your side as he places his hand on the counter behind you, his lips grazing your ear now, "To you." he finishes off in a chilling whisper.
You fall impossibly quieter and he pulls away from your ear just to meet eyes with you, leaving you there to stare up at him with years of and years of emotions floating around your gaze. You wanted to say something, anything, but the only thing you could manage was a subtle twitch of your lips. To which he took as an opportunity to fill the silence.
Tone almost vulnerable if you listened hard enough, "I just wanted to see you," Sukuna admits, almost like he'd missed you or something.
Your grip on that rather useless knife of yours tightens, as does the feeling in your chest. You're standing face to face with him now, halfway trapped between his large body and the counter behind you.
And as if to unintentionally ruin the moment, his eyes sink further along your frame, drinking in your lack of a response to him and instead letting his expression color itself in amusement as he leans down to you and whispers, “You look good.”
The heated, “Fuck you.” that pours past your lips is instantaneous. You didn't even have to think about the words before uttering them, nor do you regret saying them to him in such a distasteful tone.
Sukuna hums somewhere deeply in his throat and draws himself back just a bit, “That’s what I’m here for, brat.”
You blink, “What?”
“Don’t you remember?" He continues, eyes studying every curve and twitch in your face as if he'd forgotten how expressive you could be. "All those years ago, that’s what you asked me to do, isn’t it?”
Your lashes are batting with perplexity now, “I didn’t ask you to do shit-”
“Well, that is the last thing you said to me.” He cuts off quickly. Then his hand moves off of the counter behind you and you instinctively draw your knife up, the tip of the blade tickling his chin and causing his head to tip back some. There's a faint hitch in his breath as he's caught off guard ever so faintly.
Testingly, your eyes remain vexing and pointing upwards on his, “So?”
His hand carefully reaches your wrist and his fingers curl around it, his touch a sense of gentleness you've never felt from him before. Sukuna was touching you as if you were made of some kind of porcelain—liable to break at any given moment. Which, naturally, had you even more pissed off. It lets you know that five years away from you did nothing but make him think he'd left you all fragile and on the edge of breaking or something.
“Are you really gonna sit there and act like you didn’t miss me all this time?" The fugitive questions further, voice an annoying cadence of softness. It was so out of character for him that it made you feel even more uneasy standing in front of him.
Something wasn't right here.
“I didn’t," You claim as if you hadn't spent over half of those five years doing exactly that.
“Mh," Sukuna hums again and this time his lips twitch back up into that usually smug smile, voice dropping, "Yeah? Is that what helps you sleep at night?”
To combat with his never ending smugness, you try to appear as nonchalant about it as you can and drag out your little white lie some more, “Yup.”
“Tch.” He's quickly irritated by that one word threading past your lips with such indifference, “So I set your house on fire one time and now all of a sudden ten years of friendship don’t mean shit to you?” He asks.
The statement itself was almost more concerning than the fact that he'd done that to you. You'd think five years in confinement would help a person think over their actions and actually consider the wrong in their crimes but apparently Sukuna Ryomen wasn't prone to such a thing.
“You tried to kill me, asshole.” You remind him for the nth time.
He talks half a step away from you and chuckles, “I’d never do something like that and you know it. If that fire had hurt you that day, I’d never forgive myself for it.” Sukuna claims in a weirdly endearing way.
You hate how that makes your chest do that weird clenching thing again, as if his words still had an honest affect on you after all this time. Somewhere distantly in your mind, you were screaming at yourself about how you should've called the police on him again when you had the chance, while you were still somewhat in your right mind. But now it was too late, you were already wrapped around his finger tightly with no desire to unravel yourself from him.
Before you can manage out another jab, he ends up bringing one of those large hands of his up to his sharpened jawline and then runs his palm over it carefully, gaze drooling out an emotion you don't care to acknowledge right now, “And I meant what I said,” He whirs, “You look good.”
Finally rolling your eyes elsewhere, “You shouldn’t be here.” You deflect.
Sukuna obviously doesn't move, “You’re not telling me to leave.”
“You need to.”
“Do you want me to?” He retorts, taking the following long second of silence as a decent enough response from you, “Yeah, I didn’t think so.”
After which you allow yourself a moment to finally take the sight of him in. He's not as close as he was before which is somewhat helpful to your buzzing nerves but... fuck, he got even hotter within the time he's been gone.
Sukuna's always been tall but you swear he's grown a few more inches. All his features are sharper and more defined as if he hadn't let a day go by without properly taking care of himself, despite being locked away for so long. His body is staggering more so now than ever before as he stands in front of you clad in nothing more than a crisp white T-shirt and the rest of his prison jumper sitting low on his hips.
Now, this shouldn't be as distracting as it is but, as soon as you look down you can't help the way your eyes widen at the sight of the slightest sliver of smooth skin peeking out from the space between his lower abdomen and his pelvis. That bright orange fabric was way too low on his hips and you're sure he was aware of it too.
The toned V-line of his was adorned with trails of teasing veins that led to something you swore yourself up and down you didn't want to think about at all. But of course, it's hard not to think about it when you see that heavy tent in his crotch. You always knew Sukuna was... packing but, most times when you'd acknowledged it, you tried to shove the thought away just as quickly as it came.
It's a little hard to do that now when he's standing right in front of you watching you watch him. You don't even realize the way your eyes all but linger there as your lips part and a soft breath ghosts past them.
Then you're speaking your mind without thinking first, “You got… bigger.”
Your eyes are still glued to that outline of something bulky in his pants just before you hear him scoff at your shamelessness and force yourself to look up again. Sukuna's eyes look hungrier now. Shit, that wasn't your intention at all. You're should be kicking him out of your house right now-
“That’s what five years in a cell does to someone, woman," The man drawls, voice a pitch lower already.
One little moment of taking in his appearance and he was already feeling the effect you had on him. Moving your gaze away from his starved one, you resort to studying his now folded arms and how hefty they are tucked over his even broader chest. The tattoos across his skin still seemed as fresh as ever, almost as if not a day had ever gone by.
Clearing your throat and ignoring how hot you start to feel when your mind flashes an image of those same arms around you, “F-Five years in that cell and you still can’t even address me by my-” You're cut off when he looms closer all of a sudden, causing your stammered words to die out in your throat somewhere. He's mute as he draws close and then cranes his head down to your neck, inhaling you sharply. “...What are you doing?” You ask slowly, heart beginning to do that loud thumping thing again.
“You smell like another guy,” Sukuna utters a few inches away from your skin. It was almost as though he could see the scent of someone else on you before he even leaned in like that.
It gave you chills.
Trying to laugh his actions off again, you end up reaching a free hand up to his chest to try and lightly push him away, “What are you, a dog?”
“Woof," wisps out of his lips in a half-joking manner but with the way it slathers against your skin before the tip of his nose replaces the sensation as he zeros in on your neck, you're left struggling with a million and one emotions.
“The fuck…?” You whisper to yourself.
He only chuckles at your reaction, finding it rather cute, “Is that what I have to be to get in your good graces again?" Sukuna asks as his face adjusts to your neck and his teeth graze you, "Some kind of mutt?"
"No," You scoff, "Y-You're never getting in my good graces again." Your hand pushes at him again but even he could tell you don't mean anything by the gesture. Especially considering how you finally place your knife down somewhere behind you.
To which he smiles knowingly, "Oh yeah?"
"...Yeah," You manage out softly, turning your head to try and see what exactly he's doing.
"You don't sound so confident," Sukuna utters into your skin as if to let his words tattoo themselves into the area.
And hey, maybe you didn't sound confident because you weren't. So instead of searching for something new to say to him in response, you fall back on the same thing you've been saying to him for as long as you can remember. Angling your head elsewhere as you scoff a neatly said, "Fuck you."
"You keep saying that," He replies quickly while steadily gliding his head away from your neck and lifting. It's then that you're made well aware of how close he is to you now. Such little distance remains from his face to yours and all it would take is a short lean downwards for his lips to be against yours if either of you wished it so, "And I'm starting to think you want me to." He finishes off bluntly.
You blink out of your temporary daze just then, "What?"
"Fuck you," Your ex-best friend half-way clarifies, "It seems like you want me to fuck you."
"You-," Your words pause whilst your lashes flutter over one another, mind troubling itself trying to wrap around the audacity he seemed to carry after all this time. "You can't set my house on fire, go to jail for it, and then come back to me years later and try to sleep with me," You remind the man as you carry your stern gaze back up onto his, "Time does not equate to an apology, asshole."
Sukuna cocks a brow and bites back a laugh at the sound of that, "Is that what you need from me? A measly little apology?"
You scoff, "No, I don't need one from you but it would be nice-"
"I'm sorry." He says frankly, "Now, what else can I do to make up for it, hm?" His other hand presses behind you and you're trapped between both of his bulky arms before you even realize it, his voice dropping a tone and making the moment all the more intimate, "One thousand, eight hundred, and twenty nine days in which I have not seen nor heard from you and yet," You watch as his head tilts slowly and his eyes cascade down to the curve of yours lips, "You expect me to pry myself away from you?"
"Sukuna," You whisper, feeling almost suffocated in the lack of space between the two of you. Every fiber of his being was swallowing you up by the second and yet no matter how consuming it all felt, you couldn't find it in yourself to want to pull away.
You're unsure why his name even tiptoes past your lips like that when you carry no sort of argument against him any more. Sure, you should hate him now-, you think you still do but, it's hard to consider those emotions when he's so close.
Then his voice sinks another octave and your knees are feeling weak as his words exit him with something sinfully heated behind them, "I have missed you, achingly, for years," Sukuna claims, leaving you intoxicated in everything that pertains to him all over again. The tip of his finger meets your chin and forces your head further up, both of you now looking at the same thing now. "Yet you deny me. Why?" He questions.
You swallow thickly, as if that would lessen your nonexistent will to escape him, "You tried to kill me..." Your voice is meek and you hate every second of it, "Y-You set my house on fire."
The man fights with the smile that nearly broadens itself across his lips, "You remain unharmed."
"What about my home, Sukuna?" You ask in return, seeing as that is the most important thing here second to your well-being. Your tone is a little more sturdy now and he catches onto it, the sound making that undesirable glint in his irises return.
"It has been repaired, I see," He points out comically. After which his hand shifts and he holds the entirety of your jaw in his palm, thumb caressing your skin whilst he leans in and stops juuuust before his lips are on yours, "What more do you want from me?"
Your mouth trembles with the words that ached to leave them, unconsciously longing for the finality that is him kissing you at some point. You hated how in all the time he's been gone you'd done everything but move on and instead worked yourself up to a point so low in being touch-starved that you wanted to whine from the sheer closeness you shared with him alone.
"...Tell me why you did it." You eventually manage to demand from him.
He sighs but his answer is immediate, "You tried to replace me."
"What?" Your brows meet and your eyes shoot up to his, "No I didn't. I-I'd never-,"
"Gojo," Sukuna starts off interruptingly, allowing himself to meet those gorgeous pupils of pure vexing distaste he'd missed oh-so-graciously, "The fireman..."
"You can't be serious," You spat as you barely made an attempt to tug your chin out of his hold.
The effort you make is completely in vain since he only tightens his grip and this time tugs you impossibly closer, your breaths intertwining with one another now. "Forgive me," He demands, lips grazing the skin of yours as he does so.
Your mind halts every thought for a moment. The way he was looking at you alone was enough for you to have forgiven him a long time ago. Hell, you almost forget you were ever even mad with him to begin with. Sputtering, "I-I can't just-"
"Then let me apologize properly," Sukuna cuts off smoothly, words practically seeping out directly into your mouth now.
And all you could do was swallow down each one, completely entrapped in every thread of seductive manipulation he'd woven into you over the years. Your statement is airy as it strings out of you slowly, "You shouldn't even be here."
"I'm here because you need me to be," He protests.
You detest how true that may be but, you lie anyway, "No, I don't."
"Your body betrays your claims," The fugitive points out in the same way he always had whenever he saw directly through you, "Just look at the way you've leaned into my every touch as if you crave it—long for it, even," Sukuna continues on as his lips being to part over your own, ready to capture them in the sweetest, long overdue kiss. "Let me make my amends to you, woman." He requests of you kindly, shortly adding a borderline desperate, "Please."
——
You should never have given to that, really.
You were supposed to keep up with your act of stubbornness and not go back to your old ways of forgiving him no matter how wrong he did you. Yet, like any toxic relationship, you can't seem to find it in yourself to do that at all.
So here you are now, debauched and ruined in front of your own bedroom mirror. Having been put on display by the same man you were supposed to kick out of your home hours ago, you're busy bouncing up and down a looong expanse of his thick inches as he did nothing more than talk you to filth.
“Y’see this? See what’s all mine?” Sukuna rasps hotly against the sensitive shell of your ear, having one of his thick hands settled neatly onto the curve of your hips as he guides you up and down his swollen shaft with no sense of gentleness whatsoever. His other hand busies itself away with your jaw to keep your head facing the mirror just a few inches away from the edge of the bed where the two of you are sat, “Yeahhh, look how pretty she is taking all that cock. Taking all my cock. Uhuh..”
Your pussy is left swallowing up everything he stuffs up into you, singing out sloppy glistens of wetness and slick every time he hits that spot inside you no one else ever has or could before. All whilst your mouth dangles open, gorgeous strings of moans 'n whimpers gliding out of your throat and filling the air of your bedroom—the same bedroom he'd previously heard you talking to so many other guys in.
You never knew it of course; never knew that he had your entire home bugged from top to bottom, always listening to who you talked to and how you spoke to them. So five years ago, that might've been how he'd heard you call Gojo your best friend but, none of that matters much now. You're exactly where Sukuna has wanted you to be all this time.
“Fucked so stupid on it already,” He grunts at the way you're struggling to keep up your rhythm on top of him. “How cute,” Sukuna adds on cooingly, to which your cunt flexes ever so deliciously around his slobbering length.
Everything's a literal mess now.
You've got your neck plastered in spit and bite marks, all from the man who just swore he had to make sure you and anyone else who dare set their eyes on you after this knew you belonged to someone. The two of you have been at it for hours now and at this point you're hoping the police have long since forgotten about searching for him.
At some point you think you should've gone numb from the pleasure he'd given you but instead it was the exact opposite; you just couldn't get enough!
With the way your walls hugged the fat of his cock so snuggly every time he spoke, he couldn't help but carry out his teasing, “No one else has been in here, huh?” He asked, despite already being quite sure of the answer.
From drooly lips, “N-No, Sukuna,” You hardly manage out, especially with the way the wide crown of his cock is just thrashing up against your cervix, leaving the nastiest of kisses all against it so that you'll never forget the feeling, “Jus’ you.."
He smiles proudly at the sound of that and something in his chest swells dangerously. Hips bucking up faster-, harder to rudely knock up against the same place that's been gushing all over every inch of him for fuck knows how long now, "Really? So you were saving this pussy just for me, hm?”
“No,” You try huffing out. Instead, the short word comes out as more of a moan than anything but, all your syllables had been leaving you like that.
Just a few minutes ago he'd had you spread out over your bed and mumbled apologies into your cunt with nasty swirls of his tongue, inscribing every "sorry" into your walls with searing licks and lathers. It was the only time in all this that he'd gone somewhat quiet and instead let your pussy do the talking.
You hardly grasped what transpired from that to now since you're struggling to take everything he's giving you. Hell, you can barely get yourself to sink all the way down to that dark ink he's got wrapped around his cock, having told you that the tattoo there is—apparently—what you're supposed to be reaching with every thrust.
“Feels like you were,” He husks out thickly in between ragged breaths, grin only enlarging itself out across his slicked face, “Look at how sloppy she is around me,” And just as he says that, you're doing nothing more than watching the way your pussy lips drool so stupidly against the angry veins of his dick. To which he snickers into your ear just to tease you some more, “Such a wet lil' thing.”
You can't even control the way your head flops back somewhere against him, hips growing fatigued by the minute and throat hoarse from your pathetic mewls of pleasure, “Hnngh, S-Sukunaa."
The man only tuts before shaking his head a little to get the sweat-soaked pink locks of hair sticking to his forehead to move a bit, taking in the sight of how slovenly the both of you look right now.
With his lips sticking to the sensitive crest of your ear, he whispers ever so tentatively, “Made s’perfect for me,” A praise that only has you drenching the stretching girth that's tucked heavenly inside you, “Aren’t you?”
“M-Mhmm,” You agree instantly, of course. You think you've forgotten how to and the overall desire to deny him a long time ago from now.
Just then you feel a certain twitch spasming against your honeyed walls, causing a lewd squelch to ring out. Sukuna's breath gets even more breathier as his heavy balls ache for the release he's been saving just for you. “Slut,” He calls, almost as if that were your birth given name. “Look at me,” The same strong hand on your jaw forces your head to turn and your eyes meet his dilated pupils, “Can you feel that? Feel what you do to me? What you’ve been doing to me? Hm?”
Just as he asks you all those dirty questions, you feel him rolling the rest of his cock deeper inside you, trying to make that slathered tattoo disappear all the way past your puffy folds already.
“Yes,” You croak pliantly, earning a mocked pout of his kiss-bitten lips.
“Yeah? How do I feel inside there, huh?” He asks, just to earn a soft whine out of your throat instead of proper response. Then he cocks his brow up, “S’good you can’t answer me properly? Poor thing—here," All. of your breath is ripped out of your lungs as he then moves both of his arms down to swoop under your thighs and lift them up and out. Followed by which is him finding the nerve to stand with you in his hold.
You quickly find yourself in a full nelson before you have the time to break out of your cockdrunken state. The drool from your lips drips out onto the floor with soft, nasty splatters that match what's currently leaking all off of his balls and onto the floor.
Oh, the sight is nothing short of pure filth.
But—naturally—Sukuna's not phased by the change of positions in the slightest, "Tell me if this is better for you.” He taunts.
Better for you? As if. You could feel a tingling sensation thrumming all throughout your legs as they reduced to utter mush in his arms, especially as he starts moving. His thick cock dives in and out of your leaking hole, creating the prettiest sounds of nastiness that reverberate throughout the space around you.
Sukuna spreads you out impossibly wider with his rugged, tattooed arms secured too neatly under the plush of your thighs, having you take him fully now. Your hips feel wobbly whilst he hauls you up and down his cock, leaving you to do nothing but sop up everything he slid so thoroughly into you.
You're gasping when his wiiiide cock lodges so suddenly against your sweetest spot, “Kuna’, c-can’t—mmgh! Fuck! M’gonna cum,” You pant heavily, adding on a cute whine of, “S'too much!”
He's kissing somewhere near your neck now but you're too focused on the feel of his weepy head against where you needed him most to realize. Not until he starts that raspy purring against your hot skin, “Again? You like my cock that much?”
“N-No,” You manage to argue playfully, “I just-, mmnh! I-I like the way you fuck me.”
“Oh really?” He scoffs instantaneously, as if offended for a second. “And yet look at this messy pussy," Sukuna directs, causing your attention to shift down at the way you've left the creamiest mess of release all around that dark ink of his. "Crying alll around the same cock she hates.”
“Ohfuck,” You gape, eyes watering up again when he bites down hard at your neck. Something deep in the pit of your stomach felt as though you were bursting and fuck did it feel good.
So good that you're driven straight into overstimulation for the nth time of the night, all while sobbing and pleading for something—though you're not quite sure what for. It's not like you wanted a break by this point, no, no, you were much more interested in him breaking you.
So why does your body start squirming in his arms all over the place as if to escape him? You've no idea.
“Don’t do that,” Sukuna starts scolding you the moment he catches onto it, arms bulging around your folded body and locking you in place, “Take it, since you like the way I fuck. Take it, every fuckin’ inch—none of these-," His head angles up to lick the streaming teardrops off of your cheeks, "Mmh… sweet-, tears. Awh, look at you trying to run from it. S'this too much for my slutty girl?” He sears into you.
“Sukuna, please,” You beg. For what? You're still unsure but by this point you're unsure about everything. The only thing you can think about is the way he feels inside you.
He's still breaking out that smug smile of his, taunting, “Please what?”
“I-I can’t—“ You don’t even know what you were trying to say with the way your mind blanks and you cream around the thick of his cock yet again.
“Shh, shh, listen to her," Sukuna instructs, letting your gasps and cunt become the loudest things in the room. “Y'Hear that? That’s what good sluts sound like when they get fucked right.” He explains to you, talking into your ear once more just to have you spasming all around him for the millionth time. The baritone in his voice gets impossibly heavier in the next second, “Hah, ready to hear how they get bred?”
In response, all you can do is clench around him and manage a lazy, fucked-out nod of your head.
“Ohhh, you are, huh?” He coos.
“Uhuhh,” You babble, “Please ‘Kuna... N-Need it."
A scratchy grunt tumbles up from his throat, “Need what? Say it for me.”
“Cum inside me,” You say fully and almost perfectly for the first time in hours, “Fuck me full.”
He almost does at the sound alone but for some reason, he feels as though he needed to hold out just a little longer. "S'that what you need?" Sukuna huffs, thrusts entirely uneven now with the way his pearly 'n dawdling cockhead thwacked around your insides with no more direct focus, just feral need. "You need my cum inside you?"
"Yes," You weep delightfully.
Your best friend can only manage another, "Fuck, I've missed you so much." at the sound of that. Then he's spilling every globbing rope of cum inside you. His thrusts punctuating to make sure it takes, "Thought about you every. single. day."
"Sukuna," Your head is turning elsewhere again and for some reason he hates that.
So he's rasping a needy, "Look at me," all over again, swallowing down the terribly plead that nearly jumped out of his throat. Masking the near level of patheticness he'd reached, "Now tell me you love me." he demands instead.
Your mind may be a mush of cockdrunk and fucked-stupid but you still carry that same strength to push his buttons one more time, "F-Fuck you,"
Sukuna groans harshly and turns around with you. One second you're held tightly in his hands and the next he's laying you down on the bed flat with a rough grab on your head just to push it against your bedsheets. The next few moans that leave your throat are broken and muffled as he plows into you in yet another new position—prone bone—and driving his fat cock into every quivering crevice of your cunt.
His free hand presses down against the newfound arch in your spine and his dick feels even thicker inside you somehow. Eyes fluttering, you end up giving in without him having to say anything else, "F-Fuck! I love you, 'Kuna..." You sob into the bed.
He tugs your head up by your hair with a sharp pull, "One more time f'me?"
"Hnngh, I l-love you," You whimper.
He chuckles as if he's aware of something you're not, "Oh, I know you do, sweetheart, I know." Then he's leaning down, wide, muscular body caging yours as he speaks carefully, "You're never gonna send me off like that again, right?"
"Never," You're choking now, his hard tip kissing that spot of yours yet again.
"So obedient," Sukuna comments whilst practically spelling his name out into your cunt, "All I have to do is give you some cock for you to obey my every word, huh?"
You're nodding like some idiotic whore now, "Mhmm.."
"What a slut." He scoffs—as if he isn't into it or something—and then lets his eyes glide down your gorgeously ruined body, "My slut though, isn't that right?"
You don't even try to think before speaking. The words easy fall past your lips in a wispy puff, "All yours S'kuna."
"Juuust as I fuckin' thought," He breathes out in return. And then with one last little snicker, his voice dips to something so quiet that you nearly miss the way he finishes off with a softened, "'Love you too, woman."
