!Ryomen Sukuna; who falls in love with the concubine he hated the most
Every woman brought to his estate understood the rules of survival before they even crossed the threshold.
You bowed until your forehead touched the tatami. You spoke only when spoken to. You anticipated his moods, read the terrifying language of his four eyes, and offered flattery or tears depending on what type of amusement he was seeking that day.
To center your entire existence around Ryomen Sukuna was the only way to ensure your head remained attached to your shoulders.
Except you didn't.
You hadn't knelt when he first entered your quarters three months ago. You had been lying on your side, propped up on an elbow, reading a translated scroll from the northern provinces, and you had merely shifted your gaze to look at him, entirely unimpressed by the sudden, heavy drop in atmospheric pressure that usually accompanied his presence.
"Stand when I enter," he had commanded, his upper eyes narrowing into dangerous, ruby slits.
You had turned a page. "Then leave and enter again. Perhaps I will feel like it next time."
You hadn't scrambled to fix your posture. You had just looked at him with an expression of profound boredom.
The attendants behind him had turned white as ghosts, bracing for the inevitable spray of blood. Sukuna’s jaw had set, a terrifying, low growl vibrating from his chest. But you hadn't trembled.
If he wanted to kill you, he would kill you. Fawning over him wasn't going to change his nature, so you simply refused to waste the energy.
He hadn't killed you. Instead, he had left, the doors slamming shut with enough force to rattle the shoji screens.
And that was the exact moment the nightmare began. Because from that night onward, Sukuna became an insufferable, permanent fixture in your life.
"You are eating that wrong."
You stopped your chopsticks halfway to your mouth, letting out a long, slow exhale through your nose. It was midnight.
You had been looking forward to a quiet, solitary meal of cold rice and pickled plums, but Sukuna had simply materialized in the corner of your room ten minutes ago, dripping wet from a thunderstorm, and had proceeded to sit directly on the edge of your bedding.
"I am eating it the way I have eaten it for more than twenty years," you said, not looking at him. "If my technique offends you, the door is exactly where you left it."
Sukuna scoffed, leaning back on his palms. His massive, tattooed frame took up half the space in your small room, his lower arms crossed over his chest while his upper right hand casually reached over and swiped a plum straight from your bowl.
"You have a wretched attitude," he remarked, popping the fruit into his mouth and chewing lazily. "The women in the east hall weep with gratitude if I so much as glance toward their courtyard. You look at me like I am a stray dog that ruined your garden."
"Stray dogs are quieter," you muttered, finally looking up to glare at him. "And they don't steal my food."
Sukuna’s lower mouth twitched into a sharp, jagged grin. He loved it. The realization turned your stomach, a strange, dizzying mixture of irritation and heat.
He didn't come to your room because he wanted a concubine; he came because he was a creature driven entirely by conflict, and you were the only person in the entire empire who refused to give him the satisfaction of a fight. You gave him nothing. You gave him a wall of pure, unbothered apathy, and it was driving him entirely insane.
He leaned forward suddenly, crowding your space. The smell of the storm, ozone and rain, rushed over you. Before you could pull back, his large, calloused hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around your jaw.
It wasn't the brutal, bone-crushing grip he used on his enemies. It was controlled, a heavy, unyielding restraint that forced your face up toward his.
"You should fear me," he murmured, his upper eyes tracking the movement of your throat as you swallowed. His thumb thumbed the soft skin right beneath your lower lip, a deliberate, electric friction that made your toes curl inside your robes. "A single flick of my finger, and this pretty little throat splits wide open."
You met his gaze evenly, refusing to let the wild, frantic thudding of your heart show on your face. "Then do it. I'm tired of your bragging."
Sukuna froze. For a second, the silence in the room was deadly. Then, a loud, booming laugh tore from his throat, the sound rough and genuine as he released your jaw, shifting his weight until he was practically draped over your lap, his heavy head resting casually against your thigh.
"Insufferable," he muttered, closing all four of his eyes as if he owned the space. "Utterly insufferable."
You stared down at the King of Curses currently using your legs as a pillow, your hand hovering over his unruly pink hair, entirely tempted to shove him off. But you didn't. You just sighed, picking up your chopsticks again, ignoring the way his subconscious weight felt entirely too natural against you.
The shift happened. In Sukuna’s dictionary, words like love or devotion were meaningless concepts invented by the weak to justify their dependency. He would never admit to favoring you. If anyone asked, he would simply say you were a minor amusement, a dull distraction from his boredom.
But the rest of the estate wasn't blind.
The servants noticed that the rare silks brought from the western raids, the ones Sukuna usually threw into the treasury to rot—somehow kept finding their way into your wardrobe because he had casually grumbled that your current robes looked "like rags."
The guards noticed that if Sukuna left your courtyard irritated, he was significantly less likely to execute someone in the main hall.
And then there was the incident with the lord of the northern clans.
During a formal banquet, the lord had made a passing, disparaging remark about your status, calling you an "eccentric, useless mouth to feed" who didn't know her place.
You hadn't even heard the comment; you had been across the pavilion, systematically ignoring Sukuna’s attempts to make you try a cup of sake.
But Sukuna had heard it.
He hadn't made a scene. He had simply stood up, walked over to the lord’s table, and dismantled the man’s entire lineage within three seconds, leaving the pavilion drenched in red before sitting back down next to you, casually picking up his chopsticks as if nothing had happened.
"You're exhausting when you're angry," you had murmured, wiping a stray drop of blood from the sleeve of your robe with a click of your tongue.
Sukuna hadn't answered. He had just grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand toward him until you were forced to use your sleeve to wipe a smudge of gore from his cheek instead. He hadn't asked. He had just assumed your hands belonged on his skin.
Late one evening, weeks later, the heat of the summer had turned the air thick and oppressive. You were lying awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling, when the shoji screen slid open without a sound.
Sukuna stepped inside. He looked exhausted, the heavy marks of a curse battle still lingering in the tension of his shoulders. He didn't speak. He just shed his heavy outer robe, letting it hit the floor, before crawling directly onto your sleeping mat.
"Go away," you groaned, trying to roll over to the far edge. "It is too hot for this."
"Silence," he grunted, a large, heavy arm snaking around your waist from behind. He hauled you back against his chest with a single, effortless tug, his massive body completely enveloping yours.
His chest was blazing hot, a furnace of pure cursed energy, and his face buried itself directly into the crook of your neck.
"You cling too much," you muttered, though you didn't actually fight the hold. It was a useless endeavor anyway.
"What nonsense," Sukuna rumbled, his voice thick with sleep, his lower arms tightening around your hips, anchoring you so securely to him that you could feel the rhythmic, heavy thud of his heart against your spine. "You are small. You fit here. Stop complaining."
You lay there in the dark, his breath warm against your skin, his long, sharp fingernails absentmindedly tracing patterns into the fabric of your garment near your ribs.
He was completely unaware of how intimate the gesture was, how entirely possessive his body became the moment he was near you. He thought he was just resting. He thought he was just taking what was his.
You turned your head slightly, looking back at him. His eyes were closed, his expression unusually peaceful in the dim moonlight.
"You're an idiot, Ryomen Sukuna," you whispered softly.
A faint, arrogant smirk touched his lips, though he didn't open his eyes. His hand moved up, his fingers lacing through yours with a casual, unthinking pressure, locking your hands together against the bedding.
"And you are still breathing," he murmured into your skin, his grip tightening just a fraction more. "Be grateful I find your stupidity so entertaining."
You closed your eyes, letting yourself sink into his terrifying, inescapable warmth, finally accepting that while the King of Curses would never say the words, his actions had already rewritten the entire world around you.
apocalypse - one
undergroundboxer!kuna x reader [soulmate au]
warnings [mdni] - angst | implied trauma | mean sukuna
wc - 7.3k
series masterlist
∞
ryomen sukuna knew three things about his soulmate.
she drank too much caffeine, she slept curled on her side whenever anxiety crawled beneath her skin and whenever she read for hours on end or colored, the noise in his head quieted enough to let him breathe.
it was fucking irritating.
the first time she got under his skin, it was in the middle of his first match.
he’d nearly put his fist through the guy, rage sitting ugly beneath his ribs as blood pooled in his mouth and sweat dripped down his spine.
then suddenly, he was overcome with serenity he’d never experienced before.
a calmness that wasn’t his own, never his own.
something soft slipped beneath his skin then, warm and quiet in a way he wasn’t used to. like somebody had pressed cold hands against the back of his neck after years of burning where he stood.
he’d won that match.
“again?” toji muttered from across the gym, cigarette balanced lazily between scarred fingers.
sukuna rolled his jaw once before slamming another punch into the heavy bag hard enough for the chains overhead to rattle violently.
“fuck off.”
toji smirked, tongue peaking out to lick at the scar against his lip.
the gym smelled like rust, sweat and the metallic ting of blood that both men were used to. it was a shitty set up buried beneath the city in the lower levels of an abandoned parking structure. it barely looked legal from the outside and the inside wasn't much better.
the concrete floors, flickering lights and men all too violent to exist comfortably above ground.
and it was the place ryomen sukuna felt alive.
sukuna had been fighting since he was fifteen and filled with a rage even he couldn’t understand.
toji found him bloody outside a convenience store after some older guys tried jumping him for gambling money.
it was clear they didn’t get the money but sukuna took that fire in his gaze out on them.
sukuna still recalled the way toji looked down at him, droplets cascading down his sharp features and dark hair, damp cigarette hanging from his mouth while blood dripped steadily from sukuna’s split brow.
“you fight like an animal,” toji began, taking a drag of his fading cig before tilting his head at the salmon haired boy, “what if i told you that you could beat the shit out of guys every day and get paid for it?”
a fucking dream is what that was. he gets to utilize his anger and he could finally get out of his father’s house.
how could sukuna even say no?
somehow, it turned into this.
years later, ryomen sukuna had become the name whispered through underground rings across the city. not because he was the biggest or the strongest, but because he was cruel.
there was something deeply unsettling about the way sukuna fought.
controlled, almost lazy sometimes. like violence came so naturally to him that he didn’t even need to think about it.
people feared men who fought emotionally.
they feared ryomen sukuna more because he never did.
most nights, he fought beneath screaming neon lights while crowds chanted his name loud enough to shake the walls.
they bet on him like he was a sure thing and fuck, did he get a shitload of money from it.
he’d leave each night, beaten and bruised with a duffel of cash hanging off his shoulder.
he was living the dream.
that was until he arrived home, in his apartment downtown, and sat in silence while somebody else’s emotions bled quietly into his chest.
a girl he’d never met yet somehow knew like the back of his hand, all too intimately.
he knew she liked coffee because of the bursts of energy he’d feel during mornings where he usually slept in because his fights usually carried into the night.
he knew she did yoga often because his muscles weren’t as sore as they would get when he was younger and god knows it wasn’t his doing. he didn’t stretch nearly as much as toji nagged at him to.
he also knew that she despised him.
that one was obvious.
their bond always sharpened after his fights. her irritation sat bright and hot beneath his ribs every time he came home bruised and bloody.
sometimes he couldn’t differentiate between his own rage and hers.
maybe they were more alike than he thought.
truthfully, sukuna didn’t know how to do things any differently and frankly, he didn’t care enough to.
he hated this whole soulmates shit. why would the universe ever pair two people together with the utmost certainty that they were perfect for each other?
and what fucking masacre did this girl commit to be bonded with him of all people?
violence was the only thing sukuna had ever been good at and he wouldn’t change that for anyone, especially some girl who was almost a mere figment of his imagination.
he did that sometimes. pretended that he was a non-existent and that he was merely hallucinating her.
non-existents made up a very small part of the population and they were essentially humans who didn’t have soulmates. like toji was.
lucky bastard.
sometimes sukuna believed toji was lying because he’d get this distant look on his face some days, kind of like himself when he felt his own soulmate torment him.
so maybe he was a late bloomer?
either way, he was in a better situation than sukuna was.
“your girl’s pissed again?” toji commented dryly from where he leaned against the boxing ring ropes, head tilted with a knowingness sukuna hated.
toji was the one sukuna had to confide in because who else did he have?
when he was overwhelmed as a young teenager about his soulmate, toji would be the one he would reluctantly go to. the older man had taken him under his wing, so yes, he did trust him more than anyone.
he also knew that toji cared about him in his own fucked up way.
sukuna’s knuckles ached tonight, phantom annoyance curling beneath his skin that didn’t belong to him. it was her.
probably studying somewhere in the city while silently wishing death upon him.
the thought almost made him grin.
throughout the years, pissing her off became a hobby of some sort, though he knew she didn’t find it nearly as amusing as he did.
“at least you know she’s got personality.” toji stated once more as sukuna finally stopped punching and turned to shoot the man a glare.
“shut the fuck up.”
toji huffed out a laugh, “god help you both when you finally meet.”
the thought made sukuna freeze momentarily.
it was almost sad.
usually, at least from what sukuna knew, people usually couldn’t wait to meet their soulmates.
then there was sukuna, filled with dread at the mere idea.
sukuna hated even talking about the bond.
he hated how aware he was of her.
because despite everything, the distance and never seeing her to begin with, she felt woven into him already, like a haunting.
some nights, when his insomnia clawed violently at his nerves after fights, he’d feel her wrap her arms around herself beneath warm blankets god knows where.
and sleep came easier those nights.
he couldn’t explain it and truthfully, he didn’t like to think about it.
he hated talking about her because the truth was ugly.
that he didn’t particularly hate her. which is exactly why he knew meeting her would ruin everything.
naturally, his solution was to sabotage everything which is why he started to sleep around with non-existents whenever he got the chance.
and he knew what it did to her.
good. he hoped it made her despise him enough to never want anything to do with him, whether they meet now or twenty years down the line.
sukuna didn’t want anything to do with her.
∞
you hated downtown on friday nights.
it was always too loud and all too crowded.
neon signs bled into rain-slick streets while bass-heavy music spilled from every open doorway along the block.
girls stumbled across sidewalks in tiny dresses and tall heels, drunken laughter cutting through the humid summer night air while taxis lined the streets endlessly.
the city looked beautiful after dark, but you still wanted to be everywhere but here.
“stop looking at people with that judgy look of yours.” shoko muttered beside you, nudging your shoulder lightly as the three of you crossed the street.
“i’m not judging, i’m just looking around…” you defended with a huff as you hugged yourself protectively, little kitten heels clicking against the pavement.
“you are judging,” utahime confirmed, “it’s your classic disgusted and glare-ey look.”
“well excuse me, you’re the ones who brought me to crackhead-ville.” you glared at the two girls as shoko rolled her eeys before hooking her arm through yours anyway.
she pulled you towards the entrance of yet another overcrowded building downtown.
apparently, tonight’s party was being held somewhere above an abandoned old bar. or beneath it.
either way, something you found entirely too ominous but you were too distracted when shoko was explaining to actually disagree.
your soulmate had spent the entire evening restless beneath your skin. not angry but worse.
aware.
you felt him constantly tonight.
a steady pulse of adrenaline humming through your bloodstream that didn’t belong to you.
your chest had felt tight since leaving the penthouse, some strange tension settling low in your stomach like your body was anticipating something before your mind could catch up.
it was unsettling.
you blamed the lack of sleep, or rather, you blamed him. you blamed him for it all.
“ew, ew…” you muttered as shoko pulled you through the door into what you could only describe as chaos.
warmth and noise hit you instantly.
bodies crowded wall to wall beneath flashing lights while music shook violently through the floorboards.
cigarette smoke lingered in the air despite the open windows somewhere deeper inside the space.
you physically recoiled.
“oh my god,” utahime muttered beside you, laughing softly at the expression painting your features, “you look horrified.”
“i am horrified!”
shoko snorted, “rich kids.”
you threw her a glare before the three of you squeezed through the crowd until you reached a quieter section tucked near the back of the room.
a curved leather couch sat half-empty beneath dim red lights, thankfully far enough from the speakers that your skull stopped vibrating the second you sat down.
you exhaled deeply, chest deflating as you blinked up at your friends who were looking at you with amusement.
“drinks?” utahime questioned as shoko nodded eagerly while you merely hummed, shoulders tense as you gazed around the sea of bodies.
utahime disappeared toward the bar while shoko took a seat beside you, the leather beneath you sticky in a way that had you shuddering, sitting at the very edge of the couch.
fuck, you hated this and you couldn’t explain why.
yes, you hated parties in general but you just felt wrong.
“you’re being weird tonight.” shoko observed, eyes narrowed on your tense figure.
you frowned faintly, “i know…i feel weird.”
your skin felt like it was buzzing, chest vibrating in a way it usually wasn’t.
it wasn’t necessarily bad, but simply off.
you felt your soulmate more than ever tonight, you were almost hyperaware.
he felt electric.
every emotion coming from him felt sharper somehow, close enough that you could almost mistake them for your own.
your pulse kept jumping for no reason.
fuck, you hated this.
“is it devils dick?” shoko casually asked as your eyes closed momentarily.
how would you explain that it was both yes and no.
yes, the bond felt different tonight.
but no, it wasn’t muscle aches or phantom pain you were feeling on his end, though you didn't want to speak too soon.
it was a friday after all. friday nights usually meant bruised ribs by saturday morning.
“oh my god, guys!” hime stood before you, handing shoko her drink before placing a water bottle in your hand, “everyone’s saying gojo and his crew are gonna be here!”
your eyes rolled gently, very much aware of utahime’s obsession with those random illegitimate fighters.
underground fights happened constantly throughout the city.
illegal betting rings buried beneath clubs and abandoned buildings, violent enough that respectable people pretended they didn’t exist despite everyone secretly knowing otherwise.
your father even told you how known politicians and well known figures even placed bets they hid from the public.
and lately, there was one name that everyone kept talking about-
“do you think sukuna would show up?” shoko questioned, eyes wide with excitement, taking a sip of her cherry vodka as you looked between the two girls.
ryomen sukuna.
you’d heard it constantly from utahime the past few months.
uathime, shoko, sora and percy often went on double dates to these underground fights you had zero interest in.
you were very much used to fifth wheeling alongside your friends, that wasn’t the issue. the issue was rooted in the prospect of spending the night in a filthy underground boxing ring riddled with people and violence alike. yuck.
still, amongst all the fighters utahime gushed about, ryomen sukuna seemed to be the most known.
the undefeated underground fighter with pink hair and a snake tattoo across his shoulders and collarbones.
people were terrified of him just as equally as they were obsessed with him.
“percy says sukuna knocked his opponent unconscious in under thirty seconds last week!” shoko stated, taking another sip as utahime nodded frantically.
“he’s insane!” utahime gushed, “like, gojo is obviously a show off and just cares about the clout he gets but sukuna? he’s terrifying…”
utahime continued, you were sure. you could see her mouth moving but you didn’t-couldn’t register the words she'd uttered.
the world around you turned hazy, just enough to feel like everything slowed in a way that definitely wasn’t normal.
your heartbeat stopped, not metaphorically, but physically.
a sharp wave of adrenaline crashed violently into your chest hard enough to steal the breath straight from your lungs.
you went still, every muscle in your body tightening instinctively.
you could see both of the girls leaning towards you, brows furrowed in concern, mouths moving and uttering words you knew were dipped in concern. you couldn’t hear any of it.
you swallowed hard, eyes darting up and around you, as if a siren was luring you towards the crowd, come to me, come, come.
fuck, were you drugged or something?
your heartbeat stuttered painfully beneath your ribs, once, twice then again.
you felt like you’d been dropped underwater while everyone else remained above the surface.
the bond felt raw and entirely too overwhelming.
it felt like standing at the edge of something life-altering, like your soul had recognized something before your mind could catch up to it.
for the first time since you’d first felt your soulmate, he didn’t feel far away.
you had grown used to the idea of him, something intangible and not truly real.
merely a ghost haunting the edges of your nervous system, phantom bruises in the middle of lectures and an adrenaline rush at three in the morning.
he was the deep-seated exhaustion that riddled your body but didn’t belong to you.
but this felt real. close enough to touch.
the sensation crawled slowly beneath your skin, winding around your ribs like invisible string being pulled tighter and tighter and tighter until you thought you might choke on it.
the realization hit your bloodstream like a drug.
he was here, you knew it. you could feel it in your bones.
your eyes darted towards the door that had swung open, summer air rushing inside alongside four figures dressed almost entirely in black.
the first thing you noticed was height.
they all carried themselves with the same dangerous sort of confidence, the kind that came from men who had never truly feared consequences before.
one of them had snowy white locks, the tallest of the bunch, bright enough to catch beneath the flashing lights, sunglasses balanced lazily across his nose despite the fact that it was nearly midnight.
another stood beside him, quieter with shoulder length black locks with stretched gauges in his ears and sharp eyes that swept across the room once before settling into bored indifference.
the third one was shorter than the rest but still tall, black locks in two spiked buns with a joint resting between plump pink lips, eyes hooded in a way that exposed that joint not being his first of the night.
they were all attractive in a way that felt almost unfair and dangerous.
people moved out of their path without being asked.
your eyes turned to the one trailing just a step behind them and your breath caught so violently, it hurt.
the salmon colored locks gave him away.
ryomen sukuna.
tattoos curled dark against tan skin disappearing beneath the collar of a black shirt that stretched across broad shoulders.
even from where you stood, you could see the dried blood and bruises across his knuckles.
he looked nothing like what you’d imagined from shoko’s descriptions.
and simultaneously, exactly like it too.
something deep inside you snapped taut, your stomach dropping.
you could tell he was dazed too, jaw locked and eyes blinking at a slow pace, eyes looking around the sea of bodies.
the soulmate bond surged so hard beneath your ribs, you physically recoiled, fingers gripping the edge of the leather couch.
oh god. no, no, no.
oh my god…
“oh my god,” utahime whispered beside you, though unlike you, she sounded impressed rather than horrified.
shoko looked moments away from passing out entirely.
“that’s him!” she breathed out quietly.
you couldn’t answer, breath stilling and hands trembling.
because sukuna had stopped walking.
fuck, the realization came slowly enough to feel cruel.
maroon eyes met your own and the room around you dissolved entirely. the music became muffled noise, lights blurring and the crowd disappeared.
all you could see was him. him. him. him.
he was all you could see, feel and you knew all he could see was you.
sukuna felt it the second he stepped through the doorway.
you.
the bond snapped violently alive beneath his skin hard enough that his entire body locked for half a second mid-step.
he almost thought someone had drugged him until he remembered he hadn’t even drank anything yet.
then what was this feeling?
his eyes locked on yours and he felt the most alive he’d felt in his life.
something even the ring and the violence couldn't offer.
there you were, all too pretty and wide eyed.
he barely heard gojo speak beside him anymore, the lanky man rambling on about some idiot from last week’s fight who apparently called him out on twitter after.
sukuna ignored him completely because across the room sat a girl staring at him like she’d seen a ghost.
and in some ways, he was your ghost.
he haunted you and lived under your skin in ways he was sure you didn’t appreciate in the slightest.
his soulmate.
years of phantom feelings crashed together all at once so violently, it almost made him sick.
because the realization hit him harder than he’d anticipated and yes, he had anticipated this.
the moment he’d meet his soulmate.
well, he dreaded more than anticipated it.
it hit him hard because he realized that he knew this girl.
sukuna had never met you, yet, he bet he knew you more than the two girls hovering over you. more than fucking anyone.
you were the girl whose stress bled into his bones during finals week, the girl who wrapped her arms around herself at night and somehow lulled him to sleep from miles away.
you were real.
and you looked soft.
that was the first thing he took note of.
soft skin, soft wide eyes, soft pink shimmery gloss coating your plush lips he recognized only through phantom warmth he’d felt against his own skin before.
his soulmate was a pretty little thing, so pretty it almost made his chest ache. in your tiny skirt and halter top.
far too fucking pretty to belong anywhere near him.
“sukuna?”
choso’s voice cut through the haze faintly and sukuna snapped out of it, gaze finally leaving hers to glance at his friend who tilted his head towards the other side of the room.
sukuna resisted the urge to glance at you as he made his way across the room.
fuck, fuck, fuck!
this couldn’t be happening, this was a fucking nightmare.
just as he made it across the room, he felt it.
warm fingertips brushing his own skin despite his hands at his sides.
his pulse stuttered once.
his gaze snapped to yours once more and your eyes widened instantly when you noticed his hand drift to his neck where your own hand was resting.
slowly and carefully, sukuna lifted his own hand.
his fingers brushed lightly against the side of his jaw, a barely there touch.
yet, across the room, your breath hitched sharply as warmth bloomed against your own jawline seconds later.
not imagined or coincidence. it was all real, so so real.
your stomach twisted violently.
oh no. no no no no.
shoko was gazing at you, “what’s wrong?!”
you couldn’t answer, eyes stuck on a pair of crimson that held you hostage.
her eyes narrowed as both her and utahime followed your gaze before catching sukuna’s eyes on you.
then they both looked between you both a total of five times before realization hit.
“wait,” shoko whispered harshly, hand shooting out to grip your arm, “WAIT.”
utahime’s jaw physically fell open, “holy shit…”
your heartbeat pounded so violently, you thought you might faint right then and there beneath the flashing red lights.
what you despised most is that it made sense.
of course it was him. a violent and dangerous underground fighter, fuck, that explained everything so perfectly.
if fate was a person, you’d have her by the neck right now.
because sukuna was still staring at you, as if he knew you already and perhaps, he did.
then horrifyingly, he smirked.
and suddenly, you understood exactly why the entire city feared ryomen sukuna.
sukuna moved before he could really think about it, jaw clenched but determined.
one second he stood on the other side of the room and the next, his body was already weaving through the crowd toward you like the bond itself had wrapped invisible fingers around his spine and dragged him to you. you. his soulmate.
people moved instantly to let him pass.
you took note of that immediately.
you noticed the way conversations died around him, the way bodies shifted out of his path and nobody dared touch him, even accidentally.
it was fear, you realized. people feared him.
the recognition made your stomach twist.
“oh my god,” shoko whispered harshly beside you, nails digging into your arm, “he’s coming over here!”
“i can see that.” you hissed back faintly, though your voice barely sounded like your own.
fuck, you should leave. you should absolutely leave.
except, you couldn’t move, body drilled to where you sat, frozen in place while ryomen fucking sukuna rossed the room toward you like some predator chasing prey.
closer and closer and closer.
until suddenly, all his 6’4 glory was towering above you.
your breath caught embarrassingly hard.
up close, he was worse.
taller than you’d imagined and broader too.
there were faint bruises scattered along his jawline beneath the dim lights, on the very spot that you woke up feeling sore. fresh cuts healed across his knuckles.
and his eyes, god, they looked at you with the same recognition burning through your own chest.
sukuna looked down at you for a moment too long.
fuck, you were even more ethereal up close.
that thought hit him first and annoyingly hardest.
his pretty little soulmate sitting curled into the edge of a leather couch looking at him with wide doe eyes, almost expectantly with a mix of fear and restraint.
“hey.”
his voice slid down your spine like smoke.
low, dangerous and rough in a way even your mind couldn’t conjure up.
fuck, was this really happening?
your throat tightened instantly, “hi.”
the word left you horrifyingly softer than you’d intended and sukuna’s lips twitched at the sound.
your voice was his favorite sound, instantly.
“um,” shoko hummed, eyes wide as she shared a glance with utahime, “we’ll give you two a second.”
you almost wanted to yell in protest, but the two girls were already shuffling away, shooting you encouraging looks.
as you glanced up at the dangerous man once more, you felt your heart still in a way you hadn’t ever felt before.
not in fear or apprehension but calm.
he made you feel calm, your body stilling and quieting in a way you hadn’t expected.
regretfully, fuck, you despised it, but when that gentleness overcame you and you looked up at him…
his disheveled pink locks, his handsome rugged features and his dark eyes, all of it was him.
and you felt stupid for trying to deny that this man was your soulmate.
who else would it be?
“i’m sukuna,” he stated lowly, moving to take a seat beside you, leaving an appreciative distance between you, “ryomen sukuna.”
your name left you softly with a nod.
as you gazed at each other, the same realization overcame you both.
even with barely an introduction, you knew each other.
while sukuna had only fond memories of what you’d done for him, your mind was riddled with poisonous ones.
this was the man who often trained in the middle of the night, filling you with soreness and a rush of adrenaline that left you sleepless most nights.
he was the one who fucked other girls knowing what that put you through.
your heart clenched.
beyond all those things, he was the one who hugged himself to sleep after that one night of utter hell.
he was the one who held a hot water bottle to his stomach when your cramps left you nauseated and pained in bed.
as much as you wanted to forget those things, to snap yourself out of the sad patheticness that riddled you, how could you?
how could you when those were the only memories that kept your hope that he wasn’t a total monster alive?
your eyes travelled along his bloodied knuckles, “you get those a lot.”
sukuna’s fists instinctively clenched at the attention.
“and you burn yourself with whatever you do your hair with at least twice a week.”
your eyes widened instantly.
“and you get punched like every other day!”
sukuna’s mouth twitched and you hated how your eyes drifted towards the movement and your heart stuttered.
“barely.” sukuna stated cooly, a small smirk painting his features.
your eyes drifted toward him again before you could stop yourself.
and then you remembered.
every phantom feeling, every sleepless night and every ache.
all attached to him.
the violence, the pain, the girls.
your jaw tightened, "you’re not exactly the best person to be connected to, you know.”
sukuna’s expression didn’t shift much, still cool, but you felt it.
the hollow drop in your stomach that wasn’t yours. guilt.
real and immediate, it almost made you laugh in disbelief.
of course he felt guilty, he had to know he was a fucking nightmare.
sukuna leaned back slightly, jaw working once as his gaze flickered away from yours for half a second, “yeah, i bet.”
your brows lifted, “that’s it?”
his eyes returned to yours, low and indifferent.
you scoffed, anger bubbling up so quickly, it nearly startled you, “that’s all you have to say?”
sukuna let out a breath through his nose, “what do you want me to say?”
“oh, i don’t know,” you let out a sharp little laugh that held not an ounce of humor, “maybe sorry would be a good place to start?!”
sukuna’s head tilted, “sorry.”
you stared at him in utter disbelief before a laugh left you once more, this time softer and dripped in something worse than anger, “wow…”
sukuna’s eyes borrowed, “what?”
“you’re unbelievable is what!”
“you asked for sorry.”
“not like that!” you nsapped, voice rising just enough to have your cheeks flushing, “not like you’re apologizing for stepping on my shoe!”
his expression hardened slightly and you felt it immediately, the irritation beginning to curl beneath his skin.
ugh, you hated how the closeness made both your emotions so heightened.
“you have no idea what you put me through,” you continued, voice trembling despite you rbest efforts, “none.”
sukuna’s gaze darkened, “don’t do that.”
“do what?”
“act like i wasn’t there too.”
you blinked at him, something hot and ugly twisting in your chest.
was he for real?
“you were there?” you repeated quietly, “you were there?”
his jaw clenched, “don’t-”
“no, please,” you leaned forward slightly, anger sharpening every word, “explain it to me. because to my knowledge, you were the one making my life miserable while i was the one trying to keep us both sane!”
sukuna looked at you for a long moment, jaw clenching and unclenching.
the lights washed over his face in flashes of red, making him look even more unreal than he already did.
“you think i wanted this?” he stated more than asked and your heart clenched.
hurt shot through you, your eyes growing glassy against your will because you knew he wasn’t referring to the pain he’d put you through.
he meant the soulmate thing in general, fate as a whole.
he didn’t want you.
you bit the inside of your cheek, willing your tears to stay in your eyes before breathing out, “no. but neither did i.”
silence settled between you then, not peaceful but loaded.
sukuna could physically feel your hurt and his eyes dropped briefly to your hands where they trembled in your lap.
your fingers curled instantly, too proud as you hid the movement.
it was too late. he’d seen it.
even worse, he’d felt it.
“i didn’t know.” he stated lowly and you froze.
your eyes flickered up, “what?”
his tongue pressed against the inside of his cheek, expression unreadable.
“at first,” he clarified, “i didn’t know what it did to you.”
your chest tightening, knowing what he was referring to and his words didn’t soothe you in the slightest.
“and after?”
in fact, it made it all worse.
especially as he said nothing.
your face fell slightly, all the anger in you cooling into something quieter and melancholic.
“after, you knew.”
his gaze remained on you as his fingers flexed once against his thigh, “yeah, i knew.”
your eyes burned and you hated yourself for it.
you hated that it still hurt despite knowing already, you hated that hearing him say it aloud made it real in a way the bond never had.
“why?” you asked, the one word absolutely humiliating as much as it was devastating.
sukuna looked away first and somehow, that hurt too, “because it was easier.”
your lips parted faintly, “easier?”
he lout out a grunt, “if you hated me, you wouldn’t look for me.”
the words settled between you like something deadly.
for a second, you genuinely couldn’t speak.
then you did, “that is the stupidest, shittiest thing i’ve ever heard.”
hsi eyes snapped back to yours, scowling, “careful.”
“oh, fuck you!” you hissed lowly, “you don’t get to do that! you don’t get to hurt me on purpose and then act like it was some noble sacrifice.”
his jaw tightened, “it wasn’t noble.”
“yeah, no shit.”
“it was necessary.”
you laughed once, incredulous, “necessary? well, congrats, you got what you wanted, i absolutely fucking despise you.”
sukuna’s jaw clenched, eyes glaring at you, “good. because you don’t know shit about me, this saves us both the hassle.”
“i don’t know you?” you shot back, “i know you more than anyone, probably. i know your body hurts more often than they don’t. i know you clench your jaw when you’re mad. i know you can’t sleep because of your nightmares and unless somebody practcially forces your nervous system to shut down, you could go days without it. i know you’re so angry at the fucking world, it makes you so hateful.”
sukuna went still, too still.
you swallowed hard, eyes burning once more, “and i know that for years, i was the one cleaning up the damage you left behind.”
his eyes darkened, “cleaning up?”
“yes,” your voice cracked despite yourself, “me. i was the one hugging myself to sleep because you wouldn’t. i was the one stretching every morning because your body always felt like fucking concrete. i was the one coloring like a goddamn toddler at three in the morning because it was the only thing that made your anger stop choking me!”
sukuna said nothing and you hated that even more.
you wanted him to argue back, to answer, to fucking care.
“do you know how pathetic that feels?” you whispered, “taking care of someone who kept hurting me?”
his expression shifted, barely, but you felt it again.
the guilt, even deeper this time.
sukuna looked at you like he wanted to say something cruel and couldn’t quite manage it, settling with, “you didn’t have to do all that.”
your laugh came out watery, tears now trickling down your heated cheeks.
fuck, you felt nauseous, you felt so fucking sick.
“yeah, i know that now.”
something passed across his face then, a flicker of pain so quick, you almost missed it.
but the bond didn’t allow you to miss anything. you felt it bloom in your own chest, sharp and unwanted. his.
for one terrible second, you almost let it soften you.
almost.
because there it was again.
that tiny, stupid sliver of hope you’d spend years nurturing because it was the only thing that kept you mildly sane.
the one that whispered that maybe he wasn't all cruelty. maybe there was something beneath all that violence and pain.
maybe the boy who held a hot water bottle to his stomach when your cramps got bad had to exist somewhere inside the man sitting in front of you.
you looked at him then, through your blurry vision, really and truly looked.
the hard line of his jaw, the coldness in his eyes and the casual arrogance sitting across his shoulders like armor.
and that hope crumbled quietly inside your chest.
not dramatically or all at once, but piece by piece, like something old finally accepting it had been dead for a long time.
utter disappointment filled you then. you should have known better.
this shouldn't be surprising.
sukuna had spent years telling you exactly who he was, painting you the worst image of himself and you had hoped it was just that.
the worst of himself.
except the worst was all of him.
sukuna was cruel. not because he didn’t know better but because he did.
because he’d known what hurt you and decided hurting you was easier than wanting you.
you swallowed around the ache in your throat, suddenly exhausted in a way a thousand years of sleep couldn’t fix.
all you wanted was to be home now, cuddled up with ani in your room alone.
“right,” you whispered, nodding once to yourself.
sukuna’s brows pulled together slightly, “right what?”
you pushed yourself to your feet, smoothing trembling hands over the front of your skirt because you needed something to do. anything that didn’t involve looking at him.
“this was enlightening.”
his eyes narrowed, “sit down.”
the command sparked something sharp beneath your ribs, the thorn twisting in your heart.
you let out a hollow laugh, “fuck you.”
his jaw flexed, “don’t make a scene.”
your name left him then and you hated the way your stomach fluttered at the melody of it in his voice.
fuck, your heart hurt.
because he was your soulmate. yours.
because some sick, twisted part of you had expected the universe to redeem itself when you finally found him.
you expected the first moment to feel like every story you’d grown up hearing, witnessed amongst your friends.
warmth, recognition and relief.
instead, you were standing in front of the man who had turned your body into a battlefield and your heart into collateral damage.
“i hope i never see you again.”
something flickered across his face then and you didn’t stay long enough to decipher it.
you turned around, the crowd swallowing you almost immediately as you walked away.
music slammed back into your skull, bodies pressing close as you pushed through them with shaking hands and blurred vision.
your chest felt too tight, lungs too small for the oxygen your body ached for.
behind you, you felt sukuna rise before you saw it. the immediate pull.
his presence growing closer and your heart stuttered stupidly.
some miserable, pathetic part of you sparked alive at the thought before you could kill it.
maybe he did care.
maybe he was going to take back all the words he regretted, that he would stop you and apologize properly this time.
he would say what you’ve been waiting years to feel.
the thought was so humiliating, it almost made you sick.
“fuck are you lookin’ at?!”
you heard his voice aimed at the crowd of people that were watching you both, probably since your conversation on the couch.
you shoved through the door and stepped into the narrow hallway outside the main room, the music muffling instantly behind you.
the air was cooler here, damp with rain and cigarette smoke, blue neon bleeding through the cracked windows at the end of the corridor.
you took in a breath like you hadn’t breathed in days, eyes shutting as your heart hammered against your chest, trying to simply process everything that had taken place.
“hey.” his voice followed you out and you froze, heart stilling.
stupid, traitorous thing.
you turned slowly, eyes fluttering open.
sukuna stood a few feet away, tall and shadowed beneath the hallway light.
away from the party, he seemed even more dangerous. less like a person and more like a warning your body had spent seven years failing to understand.
he was an enigma.
for one breath, neither of you spoke.
your hope stood there too, fragile and shaking, fucking pitiful.
waiting.
sukuna’s gaze dragged over your face once, catching on the wetness beneath your eyes and his expression tightened faintly.
say it, you thought bitterly.
say sorry! say you didn’t mean it!
say something!
his jaw worked once, “no one can know.”
your brows furrowed, the hope dying cleanly.
“excuse me?”
sukuna stepped closer, voice lower now.
his mouth opened to clarify when his gaze met your own once more.
your wide glassy eyes. your pretty face that was streaked with tears, your plump bitten lips.
the little sniffles that left you, making his ribs ache.
and suddenly, he froze, the words stuck in his throat.
fuck, he had to get it together.
“about this.”
your lips parted faintly, “about us?”
the word us felt absolutely pathetic in your mouth.
all too soft and hopeful. undeserved, even.
something in his eyes shifted at the sound of it but it was gone before you could hold onto it.
“there is no us.”
oh. you actually felt that one.
not through the bond, nor as some phantom ache borrowed from him.
the pain was yours, all yours.
you laughed once, quiet and disbelieving as you took a small step back, “wow…”
sukuna followed you, taking one step forward as his jaw clenched, “listen to me-”
“no,” you shook your head slowly, voice trembling, “no, i think i understand perfectly.”
sukuna’s eyes darkened, “you really don’t.”
“oh my god,” you shook your head, “i can’t believe i thought-”
you stopped, humiliation burning up your throat.
sukuna stared, taking a step closer, his chest now brushing your chin, “thought what?”
his voice was almost desperate and you swallowed, blinking hard, “nothing.”
his face tightened and he felt it anyway, of course he did.
the hope and hurt.
the fact that some tiny, unbearable part of you had wanted him to come after you because he simply couldn’t let you leave.
sukuna looked away first as you took a step back. fucking coward.
“it’s dangerous.” he stated as you stared at the side of his face.
“dangerous?”
“yes.”
“for who?”
his gaze cut back to yours, “for you.”
you almost laugh but he continued before you could.
“people know me and if they know about you, they’ll use you. you make me weak.”
the words landed colder than you'd expected.
sukuna watched you closely, as if waiting for the fear to register and maybe it did.
somewhere deep, deep down, but anger got there first.
“so that’s what this is?” you whispered, tears leaving you without you noticing, “damage control?”
his silence was answer enough and you nodded faintly, tears burning hot once more.
“right.”
“you need to keep your mouth shut about it.”
you flinched before you could stop yourself and sukuna paused, regret flashing through instantly.
“don’t talk to me like that.” you stated lowly and his jaw clenched.
“i’m trying to keep you safe.”
“oh, how big of you.”
the hallway seemed to shrink around you both.
outside, rain tapped gently against the glass.
inside, bass thudded like a second heartbeat through the walls.
you looked at him then, this man that fate had tied to you with an invisible string and cruelty dressed up as destiny. and for the first time since you’d felt him at sixteen, you stopped wondering what it would be like to find him.
because now you knew and god, you wish you didn’t.
it felt like losing something you’d never even had.
“is that all?” you questioned lowly, clearing your throat once.
sukuna stared at you, nose flaring and throat bobbing once, “yeah.”
another piece of you gave out as you nodded, “okay.”
the word was so calm, it made his eyes sharpen.
you turned away, walking past him but his hand caught your wirst before you could take full step.
skin met skin and the bond went silent, completely and utterly silent.
no buzzing or aching or distance.
just him, all warm and real. terribly real.
your breath hitched at his touch. it was the first time he’d ever touched you.
sukuna froze too, fingers wrapped around your wrist like he’d touched fire and couldn’t make himself pull away.
for one second, just one, all the cruelty fell quiet.
and you felt him beneath it, scared and lonely, wanting and waiting.
you felt it and you hated him for letting you feel it now.
slowly, you looked down at his hand then back up at him, “let go.”
his grip tightened by a fraction, “this is the best thing for the both of us.”
your face crumpled before you could stop it.
you pulled your wrist free and this time, he let you.
“oh, trust me, not having to be stuck with you? i couldn’t agree more.” venom laced your words as sukuna’s expression changed, tightened and you felt the hurt then.
sharp and immediate and you were glad for it.
you turned and walked away then, tears streaming down your cheeks and a sob left you as soon as you were out of his vicinity.
for the first time, the bond didn't feel like a thread pulling you closer…
it felt like noose.
∞
an | was so late with this but had the worst past few days so SORRY! anyways PLSSS lmk what u think cuz i'm iffy abt the direction of this BUT this is lowk my fav thing i've written omg! this is kinda like a prologue pt2, next chapters will deffo be longer! i cannot wait to write more of these two and sukuna's a dick but bear w him ! also each chapter in the masterlist will be titled a song and i recommend listening to it while reading for the vibes 🫡
also lowk need toji BAD i wanna give him some lore so lmk if u want a one-shot of him in this au!
♡ TW: implied arranged marriage, anxiety, pregnancy, reader with questionable taste, misogyny, chauvinism, mentions of passed bullying
♡ FEM reader
He’s back happy from another mission. Blood on his clothes from how much he dominated his opponent. And you’re scared to be the one to spoil his mood.
He’s already on you the second he spots you, without washing his hands clean of the death he’s wrought, zealously grabbing into your softer areas with entitled greed, like a dog wanting a treat after doing a dog’s work, mouth on your neck with teeth and hot and heavy huffs as his fingers move hurriedly to undress you.
It’s not that you’re scared he’ll lay hands on you if you speak up. Despite what people think and say, he doesn’t really do that. Not anymore, at least. No, not since you both grew up and you became his wife instead of the dumb little girl he’d once treat you as. No, though he may be a chauvinist through and through, he doesn’t see the merit in hurting you—not since he discovered that pulling your pigtails wasn’t what he really wanted.
He might still treat you worse, though… if you were anything like certain other women in the clan who’ll remain unnamed as you're not allowed to speak or even think about them, in the fear their bad behaviour will rub off on you and inspire you to do similar stupid things.
But you’re nothing like that. You’re a good girl, and you’ll remain a good girl, because only a truly good girl deserves to be the wife of the man who’ll inherit the clan. And even though it doesn’t always make any sense, you really want to be that good girl.
Of course, you know there could be other things for you out there, other freedoms you don’t have access to in here, under this man who’s such a monster to everyone but you. You’re not stupid.
Then again, perhaps you’re crazy, because, despite everything, you quite like being the one. The one person he can stand. The one person he can be bothered with. The one person with the ability to make him happy. It makes you feel special.
But… these news you have to share with him… you’re afraid it’ll put everything at stake.
It’s not as if you’ve really done anything wrong. In all fair common sense, it’s kind of his fault if anything. And yet, you’re not so sure he’ll see it that way. After all, the man’s not exactly known for his common sense. Especially when it comes to matters of female nature.
Still, though, despite not wanting to say it, you know better than to keep things secret from him, and so you squeeze your eyes shut and force the word out,
“I have to tell you something.”
It feels no less than confessing to a crime, and yet, “It can wait. I have something I need to do to you first,” is all the interest he shows.
Too busy removing the clothes from your body, cursing under his breath about how many times he’s told you to dress more simply—in his eyes, you really don’t need to bother with garments at all. “‘Swear, m’gonna burn that closet down.”
“I’m sorry, but it’s important,” you try again, though not with trying to thwart his efforts.
But, with the impatience radiating off him in waves, you were stupid to think he wouldn't take your little demands as an offense. But, of course he does, making him all but growl at you, “So important you have to interrupt?”
His eyes are hard and so is his grip now, already annoyed with you just like you feared, squeezing your waist in a bruising hold.
“No,” you squeak. “No, of course not, I'm sorry.”
He spots the tears welling up and how your soft little lips wobble and hates how it wrecks him. You’re such a handful sometimes.
His head drops, letting out a groan between your boobs, airing his frustrations before looking back up with a sigh, “What is it? Spit it out.”
He’s being graceful letting you dictate his actions like this, right as he got home and all. You really know how to pick your timing.
“Mh, I’m…”
He’s being so merciful, and still you have the audacity to waste his time with your mumbling.
“What?” he barks. He swears, if it’s about your wishes of remodeling the kitchen again, he’s going to lose his mind.
“I’m pregnant.”
Behind your closed eyes you see black. It goes hand in hand with the silence that pursues your confession.
Dead silence, until, “What?”
His voice is thin—just a whisper. Nothing you’ve ever heard from him before.
You hate it. You don’t know what it means. Is he angry or something else—something worse. You don’t know and so you spiral, “Well, I—I took a pregnancy test. It's positive. I’m—”
You open your eyes again, letting the tears through the floodgate.
His face gives you no more clues as to his state. His eyes looking off somewhere, through you, into nothing.
He’s so quiet, it gives you goosebumps.
“Are you mad?” you whimper.
He blinks then, brought out of it, saying “No,” with a tiny shake of his head. But he doesn’t sound sure. Almost saying it as a question.
He gets off you next, a tiny curl between his brows that’s never been there before as he sits himself in the sofa next to you instead, running his hands over his face then through his hair—his previous pursuit completely forgotten.
You’re afraid to ask, but something inside you demands to know. “Are you happy?”
His eyes snap back to you. They’re big—shocked, speechless, and that forbidden word—all things he’s not supposed to be, things he’s never been before.
He gets up abruptly, then very nearly storms out of the room, back out the way he’d come from.
Your breath leaves you with the sound of the door and doesn’t come back. Your eyes stare at it until they sting. And then you break, completely. The tears come and won’t stop, escaping you with cries loud enough to make the walls shiver.
You’re silent by the time he comes back. But your eyes are still wet, now swollen and red, cheeks streaked raw. And despite knowing how disrespectful it is, you don’t even acknowledge him with a look as he enters.
You hear him swallow thick before he silently makes his way over to you where you lie in the same spot he’d left you in.
He sits down softly, putting a hand on your leg.
“I’m not mad.”
You look at him then, peeking up from where you’d been drowning out your sobs in the pillow. He still doesn’t sound convinced, you think, and that look on his face isn’t giving you any confidence either.
“But you’re not happy,” you state with a croak. “You left.”
It’s an accusation. In any other circumstance, he’d tell you to watch your tongue, but right now, he allows it—even giving it credit by defending himself from it. Saying, “I needed to think.”
He doesn’t say he’s sorry, but that was about as close to an apology you’d ever come. It’s not his place to do such things. Nonetheless, it is your place to forgive him.
Being angry with him won’t solve anything. Especially when you can tell he regrets it.
And so, you pull yourself up slowly, climbing into his embrace. Sitting in the gap on his lap, with your head against his chest, listening to the fast drums of his heart as he drapes his arms around you and sets his chin down atop your crown—both of you silently acknowledging each other.
“I’m scared,” you murmur after a while.
He won’t say it out loud, but you can tell… he’s sacred too. Even though he denies it with unconvincing encouragement, “What's there to be scared about?”
Despite it being an obvious show of bravery, you still somewhat appreciate it—at least one of you should pretend to know what you’re doing. You’re happy he takes on the role.
Meanwhile, you’ll take on the role of voicing all those fears you know he can’t. Because that’s what he needs. For you to act just a little more hopeless than he feels, so that he can feel empowered by being the one who saves the day.
Fists curled in his shirt while hiding your face in his chest, your words come out all pitiful and muffled, stating the terrifying obvious, “I’ve never been pregnant before...”
He stiffens again, like earlier, hesitant. It’s not often he’s had to comfort you. Usually it’s the other way around. He thinks about what you usually tell him, hoping to find the right words.
“You were never a wife before this either, but… you're pretty good at that.”
You’re sure, if you snuck a peak of his face, he’d be blushing. “Really?”
“Yeah…” he says—voice nearly shaking, holding you tighter. “The best.”
Despite all his ways, he really is quite cute sometimes. Though, you’d never tell him that.
Instead, you reward him with a kiss to his neck—one that then travels up.
You reposition yourself for a better angle, straddling him, hands moving across his chest as you undo his buttons. Lips soft against his.
He’s usually over-eager—strong and rough, manhandling you and making you squeal the way he likes. But this time, he shows uncharacteristic restraint.
“Wait—” he whispers with a breath. Eyes searching yours, then your belly. “Won’t it hurt the…”
He’s even afraid to say the word.
“No.” You shake your head, smiling. Voice soft in his ear, “Though, it doesn’t hurt to be gentle.”
He lets out a breath of relief at that before letting his hands retake their place around your waist, squeezing you gently while pulling you flush against him.
‧₊˚ ୧ ‧₊˚ 𝐂𝐎𝐖𝐁𝐎𝐘 𝓖.𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 and the pretty waitress at his local diner ⋅ ✰
☆ ──꒰𝓢𝐡𝐞'𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐧!꒱ ❞
div creds to @/angeliicide and art creds to @/kentobreads
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა is the town’s most infamous rancher— tall, loud, and impossible to ignore with his snow-white hair under a black cowboy hat. He rides into town on his massive white stallion every few days just to sit in your section at the little sunflower-yellow diner.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა The first time he saw you, you were humming while pouring coffee and accidentally did a little happy spin after delivering a big tip. He nearly fell off his chair laughing and declared you “the brightest thing in this dusty town.”
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა He always takes the same booth by the window so he can watch you move around the diner like a ray of sunshine. He calls it “prime sunshine viewing.”
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა His order is always the same: black coffee, two slices of pie, and “whatever smile you’re givin’ out today, darlin’.”
You once brought him a slice of pie with a little whipped cream smiley face on it. He’s been whipped ever since.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა Gojo tips ridiculously well.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა The other ranch hands tease him endlessly because he, the six-foot-four menace who can out-rope anyone in the county, gets flustered when you call him “Mr. Gojo” in your sweet voice.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა On slow days, he’ll linger for hours, spinning his hat on his finger and telling you dramatic (mostly exaggerated) stories about chasing bandits or taming wild horses just to keep you at his table longer.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა He started calling you “Sunshine” unprompted and now the whole town knows you by that nickname thanks to him.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა You taught him how to fold paper flowers during your break one day. He now leaves them on the counter for you with little notes like “For the prettiest waitress in the West.”
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა He’s convinced you’re magic because “no one should be allowed to be that warm and bright in a town this dusty.” He says it completely seriously.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა On your day off, he showed up at your door with two horses and took you on a picnic to his favorite hilltop. He was so proud when you told him it was the best day you’d had in months.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა Gojo lets exactly one person touch his hat — you. You once put it on your head while teasing him and he went bright red under his tan.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა started helping around the diner on busy days without being asked — carrying heavy trays, fixing the loose step out front, and charming all the old ladies who adore him.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა Every time you laugh at one of his dumb jokes, he looks at you like he just won the biggest prize in the county.
૮₍ cowboyjo ⑅₎ა He’s already decided (and loudly told his best friend Geto) that he’s going to marry “that sunshine waitress” one day. He just hasn’t worked up the courage to say it to you… yet.
: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!
: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k
: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)
You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.
“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.
Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.
“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.
The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.
Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.
Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.
Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.
"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.
"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"
"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.
Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.
Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.
“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.
"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."
His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.
"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.
"Yes, sir."
As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.
Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.
The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.
In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.
The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.
One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.
Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.
When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.
Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.
Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.
You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.
Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.
Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.
Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.
You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.
Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.
"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.
Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"
You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."
"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"
Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.
How could he not know?
"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.
"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."
Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"
You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.”
He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"
“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.
"Come here."
Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"
"Come here."
With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.
An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.
"Feeling better?"
"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."
Sukuna responded only with silence.
You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.
The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.
In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.
Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.
"I can't—Uraume—"
"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."
"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.
"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."
Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.
The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.
The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.
You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.
"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.
"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.
"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."
You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.
"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"
With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.
The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.
The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.
"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."
You drifted into unconsciousness.
The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.
“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.
With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.
"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."
"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.
Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.
His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.
"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.
"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.
He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.
"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.
You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”
"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.
"Did you want . . . a girl?"
"Why do you ask?"
"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."
"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."
Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.
“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.
“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”
“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”
Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."
He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.
"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.
He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.
"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.
You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.
"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."
“Did you fire the last one?”
“I fired at her, yes.”
Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"
He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."
Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”
"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."
“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”
He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”
Up until the kidnapping.
Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.
"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."
Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"
An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"
"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"
You . . . nodded.
“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”
You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"
"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.
"Oh."
All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.
Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.
But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.
Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."
"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."
"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.
"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."
A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.
“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”
“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”
Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”
His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”
You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”
In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.
In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.
The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.
Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"
"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"
Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.
"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"
"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.
Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.
Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"
"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"
"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.
Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.
"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"
"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"
"Not toys. Friends."
Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.
“Papa!”
“Sukuna, come on.”
There wasn’t any winning with his girls.
Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.
Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'
That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.
"She's asleep," you informed him.
"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.
Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.
"I want you," you murmured.
Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."
"It's late."
"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.
"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.
How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?
“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.
Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.
“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit.
Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.
“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit.
Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.”
“Hurry, then.”
Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination.
After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.
Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him.
“Are you close?” you whispered.
“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.”
You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded. “Please.”
Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.
Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him.
Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back.
“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again.
You both snapped in unison.
Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes.
“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.”
You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.
pairing: jjk men x f!reader | gojo, nanami, yuji, megumi, toji, sukuna
synopsis: him reminding you why he's better than your ex...
cw: cussing, possessiveness, petnames, established relationship, also fratkuna not canon sukuna
a/n: sorry I haven't posted anything lol... tomodachi life has a grip on me
masterlist
♡ sukuna realizes that he does get jealous after all. . .
series masterlist
sukuna will say this very seriously, he does not get jealous. the emotion itself is beneath him.
that is until yuji coming home from school, jumping in place.
“i made a friend today!!”
“you did?” you ask. “so what are they like?”
“his name’s megumi and he likes dogs and dinosaurs too and he traded me his pudding because i gave him my chocolate!”
yuji keeps talking without stopping.
“and he’s really quiet but he laughed when i scared a pigeon away and megumi said maybe we can go to the park together and can we please please please—”
“ji— okay, okay,” you laugh. “slow down.”
his eyes widen instantly. “really?!”
“if megumi’s dad says yes, sure.”
yuji cheers.
later that week you end up exchanging numbers with megumi’s father after pickup.
toji fushiguro, he introduced himself— pretty tall, scar across his mouth, seems normal enough, though.
the playdate gets set for saturday afternoon, and sukuna seems pretty indifferent to it or at least he pretends to.
“you’re taking yuji to the park?” he asks while scrolling through his phone.
“mhm.”
“so, who’s the kid— or more like, you know their parent?”
“well.. a little?” you say thoughtfully. “toji fushiguro.. i think?”
“…fushiguro?”
you blink. “hm? you know him?”
“used to run in similar circles.” sukuna looks deeply annoyed already. “guy’s a pain in the ass.”
“well.. he seemed nice?”
“that’s because the guy likes pretending.”
you snort. “you’re dramatic, it’ll be fiiine.”
“i’m serious.”
“baby, i’m going to a playground. not a nightclub.”
sukuna looks at you for a long second, then sighs.
“fine, do what you want.”
which, surprisingly, he actually means— he fully intends to let you have your little park day in peace.
because really.. what could happen?
apparently a lot.
because now sukuna’s standing outside a convenience store a few minutes away while staring at his phone with growing irritation.
he just cannot stay at home while knowing you’re out with that damned black-haired man, so he lasts another three minutes before getting back in his car.
meanwhile, you’re sitting at the park bench while yuji and megumi run toward the playground together.
“be careful!” you call after them.
toji sits beside you a second later holding two juice boxes and an iced coffee.
“kid asked me to bring extras,” he says, handing you the iced coffee.
“thanks!”
“don’t mention it.”
for a while it’s easy and comfortable, you talk while the boys play. mostly about school— how both boys have been doing, how megumi apparently refuses to sleep without his stuffed wolf, how yuji always has endless energy no matter what.
“so.. that your kid, right?” toji asks eventually, nodding toward yuji.
you smile. “well no.. but technically my nephew.”
“could’ve fooled me.”
you shrug slightly. “he does feel like my own, though.”
“clearly.”
talking to toji is surprisingly easy, the guys laid back, which is probably why the next thing out of his mouth makes you second guess.
“you single?”
oh..
but before you can even answer, another voice cuts in.
“no, she‘s not.”
you look up immediately.
sukuna stands there behind both of you wearing all black with sunglasses pushed into his hair.
he looks weirdly calm, which means he definitely heard enough to annoy him.
toji glances between both of you once before leaning back slightly.
“oh! what are you doing here?” you say surprised.
“was just getting something to drink.”
“from the park..?”
“eh, crazy coincidence.”
toji snorts quietly beside you— big mistake, because sukuna’s eyes immediately slide toward him.
“fushiguro.”
“ryomen.”
you can absolutely feel the tension in the air.
you look between them slowly. “oh my god.. you actually know each other.”
“unfortunately,” they say at the exact same time.
yuji spots sukuna from across the playground and immediately lights up.
“UNCLE KUNA!!”
he abandons megumi and runs across the grass at full speed before slamming directly into sukuna’s legs.
sukuna just rests a hand on yuji’s head. “now get off me brat, you’re sweaty.”
“we were racing!”
“that so?”
“i won!”
megumi finally walks over, hands shoved into his little pockets.
“yuji cheated..” he says quietly.
“did not!”
“you pushed me!”
you’re trying not to laugh while yuji now clings to sukuna’s arm, and you get up to approach both.
toji watches the interaction for a second, then he looks back at you.
“…damn my bad,” he says finally. “cute little family you got there.”
sukuna goes quiet for a second, then his arm hooks around your waist possessively.
“exactly,” he says. “know where you stand, fushiguro.”
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye
art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.
It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain.
He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls.
Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.
But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.
Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices.
As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?
And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind.
Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.
Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze.
But not you.
You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully.
Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.
He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.
Soon, he started coming more often.
The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.
There, you always seemed to be his.
His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.
For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.
Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.
Until one day, you were left alone.
No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.
And, well, him.
He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.
He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head.
Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.
He didn't dare to open his eyes.
As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.
Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.
Him.
And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair.
"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."
A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping.
But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.
Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.
Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.
"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."
Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.
Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.
And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin.
He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!
To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.
A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.
Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:
"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."
When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues.
No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water.
But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.
And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"
Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."
Liar.
You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.
And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land.
At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.
But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.
And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.
The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.
Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.
Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body.
All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists.
"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head.
And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.
"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"
You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.
You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.
And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk.
As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself.
So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.
The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth.
The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.
No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.
"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin.
A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."
It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.
Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.
The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed.
"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"
Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."
Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.
You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.
It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.
Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers.
The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom.
When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape.
But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.
"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.
You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."
Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."
"The Gods?"
His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."
You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.
But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.
For you, it was a matter of life and death.
For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate.
Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.
"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"
Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."
"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"
Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair.
The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love.
But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.
He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.
"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.
"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.
Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"
Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.
Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.
In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.
At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.
Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.
Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.
Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.
Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.
"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.
He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."
"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"
His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."
And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.
Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.
But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.
Pomegranate.
And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.
Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."
Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.
And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.
You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.
"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.
Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.
Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.
And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.
"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.
His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.
His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.
But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.
And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.
Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.
"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.
You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"
He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.
Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.
He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.
A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.
A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.
Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.
"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.
You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."
Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.
His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.
He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.
"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"
At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.
His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.
To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.
As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.
But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.
"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.
"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"
"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"
Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.
"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.
His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.
Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.
"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."
It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.
He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.
That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.
Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.
Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.
Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.
He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."
Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.
His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.
"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"
"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."
Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.
"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."
His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.
"My God–" you barely muffled.
"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."
His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.
"My God–"
"Do you understand me?"
"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.
"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."
With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.
His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.
It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.
"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."
You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.
You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."
Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"
You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."
And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.
The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.
There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.
The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.
It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.
He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.
Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.
Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.
He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.
For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.
For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.
The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.
It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.
And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.
And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.
But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.
"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."
And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.
Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.
When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.
It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.
But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.
Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.
During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.
Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.
One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.
"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."
"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.
Oh, you were so, so fucked.
"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."
Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"
Both you and Uraume shrugged.
"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.
You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.
"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.
Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."
Fuck.
The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.
The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–
"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.
"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.
He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.
"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?
Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.
"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"
His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.
Well, it usually could.
"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."
You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."
Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.
He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"
"They looked sad."
His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"
You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"
"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.
"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."
Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.
And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."
You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."
"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."
You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.
Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."
Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.
"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.
Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.
"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."
And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.
As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.
At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.
During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.
Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.
On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.
One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.
Something… alive.
The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.
Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.
"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.
There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."
And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.
And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.
Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"
Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."
Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.
You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.
And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.
With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.
You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.
That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.
The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.
Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.
Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.
"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"
She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"
"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"
She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.
"I came to take you back, of course."
A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.
Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.
And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.
To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.
"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.
"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."
She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I'm bound to the Underworld."
Lie.
But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.
"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"
Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."
She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"
"I love him."
And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.
As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.
Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."
Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.
Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."
There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.
Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.
You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.
Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.
Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.
You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.
"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"
"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."
His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."
Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.
He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.
With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.
When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.
His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"
His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."
And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.
In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.
All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.
Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.
The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.
"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."
Of course, you lied to your mother.
And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.
What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.
Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.
You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."
Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.
Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"
A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."
With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.
"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."
And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.
"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."
He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.
"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."
"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.
But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.
His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.
Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.
Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.
"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."
Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."
With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.
Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.
"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."
With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.
With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.
"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."
Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!
And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.
Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.
"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.
Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."
You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"
Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.
Both?
An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!
When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.
"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."
The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.
"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."
And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.
Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."
Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.
Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."
He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.
A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.
The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.
Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.
"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.
But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."
"No, you don't get it, I–"
The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.
You came.
Or maybe, gushed.
With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.
It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.
Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.
And this time, you knew that it was over.
He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.
Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.
"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."
The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.
The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.
His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.
"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."
Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.
The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.
"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.
His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.
A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"
He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.
"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."
Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.
You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.
When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."
"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"
His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."
The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.
A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.
His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.
"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."
He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."
Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.
But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.
And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.
Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.
Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.
Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.
Ryomen Sukuna was having the kind of day that made him want to commit a felony.
Work had been an absolute, unmitigated disaster. His clients were being brain-dead idiots, his emails had been piling up since 6:00 AM, and his boss had the audacity to drop a massive, last-minute project on his desk right as he was packing up to leave. By the time he finally unlocked the front door to your shared apartment, his jaw was clenched so tight his teeth ached. He was exhausted, he was pissed off, and he was fully prepared to pour himself a massive glass of whiskey and not speak to a single soul for the rest of the night.
He pushed the door open, dropping his keys into the bowl by the entrance with a loud, aggressive clatter. He shrugged off his suit jacket, loosening his tie with a harsh yank.
“I’m home,” he called out, his voice a low, gravelly grumble.
He expected you to be in the kitchen, or maybe curled up on the couch watching some trashy reality TV show. He expected you to ask him how his day was, which would inevitably lead to him ranting for twenty minutes straight.
Instead, there was silence.
Sukuna frowned, his bad mood spiking just a fraction. He walked down the hallway and stepped into the living room.
He stopped dead in his tracks.
You were sitting cross-legged on the floor, hunched over the coffee table. The entire surface was completely covered in hundreds of microscopic, brightly colored plastic bricks. You were wearing one of his oversized t-shirts, your hair tied up in a messy bun that was slowly falling apart.
But the best part? The absolute most ridiculous, endearing part?
You were squinting so hard your nose was scrunched up, and the very tip of your tongue was poking out of the corner of your mouth in pure, unadulterated concentration. Your fingers, which were currently trying to snap a tiny, translucent green piece onto a microscopic brown cylinder, were trembling slightly from the effort.
You hadn’t even heard him come in. You were entirely, completely consumed by your task.
Sukuna stood there in the doorway, his suit jacket dangling from his fingers. He didn’t say a word. He just watched you.
You were a serial hobbyist. Every month, it was something new. Knitting, painting by numbers, making weird little clay frogs that currently haunted his nightstand. He usually just rolled his eyes, funded your little hyper-fixations, and let you do your thing.
But this? This tiny, intricate Lego flower shop you had apparently bought today? It had you in a chokehold.
Snap.
The tiny green piece finally clicked into place.
You let out a massive, dramatic gasp of victory, throwing your hands up in the air like you had just won the Super Bowl. “Yes! Take that, you stupid little plastic bitch!”
Sukuna let out a sudden, loud snort.
You jumped, spinning around so fast you nearly knocked over a pile of pink bricks. When you saw him standing there, your eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. The sheer, radiant joy on your face was blinding.
“Babe!” you squealed, scrambling up onto your knees. You carefully scooped up the tiny, completed structure in your hands and held it out toward him like it was the Holy Grail. “Baby, look! Look what I did!”
Sukuna slowly walked over, dropping his jacket onto the sofa. He looked down at your hands.
It was a tiny, incredibly detailed Lego flower shop. And sitting right in front of it was a single, slightly lopsided plastic rose that you had clearly customized.
“I made you this one,” you beamed, your chest puffing out with pride. You were practically vibrating with excitement. “It’s for your desk at work! Because you said your office is depressing! Do you like it?!”
Sukuna stared at the tiny plastic flower. Then, he looked at you.
You had a faint smudge of left over dinner on your cheek. Your oversized shirt was slipping off one shoulder. You were looking up at him with such pure, unfiltered adoration and excitement over a piece of plastic that it actually knocked the breath out of his lungs.
And just like that, it happened.
The stress of the last fourteen hours? Gone. The anger at his clients? Evaporated. The tension in his shoulders, the pounding headache behind his eyes, the overwhelming urge to burn his office building to the ground? It all just melted away, completely washed out by the sheer force of your ridiculous, beaming smile.
He didn’t just love you. That wasn’t a strong enough word anymore.
He looked at you, sitting on the floor surrounded by plastic bricks, offering him a fake flower to make his bad day better, and a single, crystal-clear thought rang through his head like a bell.
I need to marry this girl.
Not ‘I want to.’ Not ‘someday.’ Need. He needed to marry your crazy ass. He needed to lock this down permanently, because if he had to go through the rest of his miserable, stressful life without coming home to you poking your tongue out over a Lego set, he was going to lose his fucking mind.
“Sukuna?” you blinked, your smile faltering just a little when he didn’t immediately respond. You lowered your hands slightly. “Do you… not like it? I know it’s kind of dumb, but—”
“Shut up,” he breathed, his voice thick.
Before you could even process the command, he dropped to his knees right in front of you, completely ignoring the fact that he was crushing at least ten Lego pieces under his expensive suit pants.
He reached out, his large hands gently cupping your face. He didn’t even look at the flower shop. His red eyes were locked entirely on yours, burning with an intensity that made your heart stutter in your chest.
“Babe?” you whispered, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “Are you okay? Was work bad?”
“Work was a fucking nightmare,” he murmured, his thumbs brushing over your cheekbones. “But I don’t care anymore.”
“You don’t?”
“No.” He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours. He let out a long, shaky exhale, the last of his stress leaving his body. “I love it, baby. It’s perfect. I’m putting it right in the middle of my desk.”
Your smile instantly returned, brighter than before. “Really?!”
“Really,” he chuckled, the sound deep and vibrating against your skin. He tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, desperate kiss. It wasn’t heated or rough; it was incredibly soft, filled with a kind of overwhelming reverence that made your toes curl.
When he finally pulled back, he kept his face inches from yours. He looked down at your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“I’m gonna marry you,” he said.
It wasn’t a proposal. It wasn’t a question. It was a statement of absolute, undeniable fact. He said it casually, like he was commenting on the weather, but the weight behind his words was heavy enough to anchor a ship.
Your brain short-circuited. You sat there, frozen, the tiny Lego flower shop still clutched in your hands. “What?”
“You heard me,” he smirked, his usual arrogant confidence bleeding back into his tone. He leaned in and pressed a loud, wet kiss to your cheek, then your jaw, then the sensitive skin just below your ear. “I’m gonna marry your crazy ass. Put a ring on your finger so big you won’t be able to lift your hand to build these stupid little toys.”
“They’re not stupid!” you squawked, your face flushing bright red as his words finally registered. “And you can’t just drop that on me while I’m holding a Lego!”
“I just did,” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you flush against his chest, completely ruining your posture. He buried his face in your neck.
You let out a breathless, watery laugh, carefully setting the flower shop down on the table before wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders. You ran your fingers through his pink hair, feeling the last of the tension bleed out of his muscles.
“Okay,” you whispered, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. “Okay, Ryomen.”
“Good,” he mumbled against your skin. He shifted slightly, his knee crunching against a pile of plastic. He winced. “Now, help me up. I think a fucking Lego is embedded in my kneecap.”
nerdjo’s high maintenance gf is his prettiest distraction !
I. DISTRACTION #1: NO KISSING IN THE LECTURE HALLS !
time: 8:46 am location: Curtis Lecture Hall I (CLH-I)
gojo satoru is typing one handed because his other hand is pressed between your thighs.
not that he minds. 8AM thursday means excel sheets & a cup of hot coffee to keep his bleary eyes open. gojo satoru is trying—trying to focus, but his pretty girl is talking a mile a minute and he’ll be damned if he didn’t reply to your every word.
“it was so hard getting out of bed today, toru,” you pout up at him, chin on his shoulder & gloss sticky on his sleeve. “i told kento to stop by and wake me up on his way to class. can you believe he didn’t?”
“i’m very proud of you for getting out of bed regardless.”
“thank you. it was very hard.”
you sigh against his shoulder. “he’s probably still mad i cussed him out,” you huff, reaching up to twirl the hairs on his nape. “all because i put him on cherry crush and he tried to act like he discovered it first.”
satoru’s eyes are still on his screen, so you squeeze his palm between your thighs to bring him back to you. “he’s so petty, toru.”
“very petty, baby.”
you frown. it’s been exactly thirteen minutes and forty-two seconds since satoru looked at you last. he’s been on this stupid spreadsheet since class started, and it’s really starting to piss you off.
so you block his view.
“look at my fingers, toru,” you breathe, lifting your hand in front of his face. “i was in such a rush i forgot my rings. my hand looks so ugly.”
he lifts his head—just slightly, just enough that he can focus on the screen & not your hand in front of him—& replies without a beat. “looks pretty, baby,” he murmurs, kissing the back of your hand. “so gorgeous.”
oh, that’s enough.
“toru.”
“hm, baby?”
“kiss me.”
gojo satoru chokes on his tongue. he freezes, blue eyes leaving the screen only to dart around the crowded lecture hall in alarm. he lets his eyes drop to you, and perhaps he shouldn’t have, because you’re looking up at him with glossy lips & too-big eyes & lashes that flutter in that way that means trouble. gojo gulps.
“we can’t do that right now, sweetheart,” his voice catches. you’re pouting up at him but satoru only cups your cheek and tries to reason with you. “we’re in public. can you wait for me, angel?”
your brows furrow, lips wobbling into that pout that only spells out gojo’s demise.
“are you ashamed to kiss me in public?” you croak, fake sniffling. “am i that ugly?”
you’re not ugly. you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, you know it, satoru knows it, & he also knows you’re doing this on purpose. but your eyes are so glossy. your breathing’s all hitched. your shoulders shake like you’re about to sob—
gojo satoru folds under zero pressure.
he cups your face, thumb brushing faux tears off your lashes as he presses his lips to yours. you taste like strawberry candy & something too sweet to have a name. gojo sighs into your mouth. cocks his head. pulls back just to lean in again when your lashes flutter up at him all pretty. he lets his thumb tug your lip and tongue lick your teeth and—
“ahem.”
you both freeze.
in the row in front of you the nanami kento is there, frown on his face & completely unamused. there are pens littered on his desk & his laptop is wide open—is he reading semantic error?
he eyes you both, lips curled in disgust.
“this is not a love nest.”
you & satoru are blinking in disbelief when nanami turns back to his laptop. he slams it shut in embarrassment when he’s met with an inappropriate panel onscreen.
II. DISTRACTION #2: NETWORKING ❌ NOT WORKING ✅
time: 7:14 pm. location: Bergeron Center for Engineering Excellence
⎚-⎚
gojo satoru has five minutes until the most important meeting of his life.
an opportunity to pitch one of his latest projects to some high-class engineering recruiters—lucky him! he’s in a private office with his speech in his hands, and his beautiful girlfriend kicking her feet on the office table.
you’re supposed to be his supportive plus-one. and gojo does feel supported—how could he not when the love of his life is here for him, dressed up like a midsummer dream? but gojo thinks he’d feel even more supported if you weren’t bracketing his thighs & tugging on his tie every time he tries to speak.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity—“
“satoruu,” you coo. “i miss you.”
gojo satoru knows better than to sigh. he does it anyway, collapsing into your neck in resignation as he squeezes your hips. you’re pressing a glossy kiss to his jaw. “i’m right here, sweetheart,” he mumbles, closing his eyes. “will you let me focus?”
you nod sweetly, squeaking a little when he presses a kiss to your neck in thanks.
“thank you all for coming. i’m honored to have this opportunity to present—“
“satoruu,”
thirteen words this time. fairs.
“yes, sweetheart.”
“my feet hurt,” you pout, kicking your feet up to show him. for once, you’re not being dramatic. even with your heels on satoru can see the sides of your feet reddening, flushed & slightly swollen against the material. his brows furrow. “how’d this happen, angel…?”
he kneels down to slip your heels off. you pout: “i got new heels so i’d look pretty for your presentation. now my feet hurt and i’ve ruined everything.”
satoru frowns, but you’re still spiraling. lips wobbly, eyes all glossy & nose wrinkled in lament. gojo’s heart goes sticky in his chest. how could you possibly ruin everything when you are everything?
he reaches up to wipe a tear off your cheek. “look at me, baby,” he murmurs, other hand rubbing circles on your ankles. he looks devastating like this—hair messy, tie loose from all your tugging & knees on the floor for you even though he’s in his finest dress pants. “you didn’t ruin anything, okay baby? look.”
he slips off your heels, then his own leather shoes, & laces them onto your bare feet. “wear these.”
you blink as he lifts you off the table, kneeling back down to adjust the shoes better. you wiggle your toes. your feet don’t even reach the middle, and you almost fall trying to walk two steps, but the gesture alone has you beaming. you turn to him with your lips bent in a clumsy smile.
“they’re huge, toru,” you giggle, twirling around in the office. satoru only smiles. his heart goes sticky in his throat. he pulls you into a soft kiss because trying to speak might make his chest hurt.
knock knock.
one of satoru’s classmates—nerd #1—peeks his head in, expression slightly terrified. “uh, gojo? they’re ready for you in the boardroom,” he gulps. “you’re up.”
satoru nods, gathers his speech papers. you’re practicing walking around in his shoes now, arms stretched out to help you balance as you waddle around with a grin on your face. gojo satoru looks down at his feet. they’re in nothing but a pair of socks.
right.
he sucks in a breath, then turns to kiss your forehead. “stay here where it’s warm, okay?”
you’re still entranced by his shoes, but you chirp out an okay! regardless. satoru bites his lip. it’s showtime.
——
the faculty is looking at satoru like he’s grown two heads.
have they never seen a shoeless man before? how rude. he’s standing on the boardroom’s stage now, clipboard in hand, projector lighting up the board behind him. some of the recruiters are nodding. the others are trying not to look at his feet so they can’t be accused of classism. gojo satoru is not even poor. a glance at his suit should tell you that.
but gojo doesn’t care. he presents without issue—even though the entire time, his mind is on you.
the boardroom door has a center made of glass. through the pane, satoru can see you back in the office—you’ve somehow found music controls for the office’s boombox, and you’re dancing—oh god, you’re dancing—twirling around with a clumsy smile & laughing when you stumble in his much larger shoes.
satoru’s heart swells. his lip twitches.
gojo turns his focus back to his presentation. he’ll work hard to keep you smiling for the rest of your life.
III. DISTRACTION #3 : WHY IS MY GIRLFRIEND IMMUNE TO TUTORING…
time: 6:14 PM location: The Quad, Satoru’s Apartment.
⎚-⎚
“who discovered america ?”
“Martin Luther King.”
You are going to fail this exam.
“that’s enough general history today,” gojo mutters, voice croaking in alarm when you give your answer. you’re tucked in his lap, fingers curled in his collar, nose in his neck & completely unbothered. your perfume is sticky in his lungs. “let’s try math. you like math, baby?”
“mhm,” you kiss his jaw. “love it.”
no you don’t. gojo flips open a book with one hand, the other rubbing circles on your thigh. “let’s practice some integration…” he scans the page for questions while you twirl the hairs on his nape. “okay, this one. can you try this for me, princess?”
your lips tug into a bored frown. “okay,” you lean up to glance at the page, “done.”
he blinks, “done?”
“yes,” you flop back against him, soft & pretty & tired & his. “i solved it in my head.”
satoru bites his lip, brows knit in concern. “baby, you can’t solve integrals in your head.”
“i have a very strong brain.”
satoru prays for some strength of his own. okay—okay. he purses his lip. “so strong, baby. do you want to walk me through your process?”
you frown in his neck.
“first of all,” you tug his collar, lashes fluttering, “i looked at the numbers.”
“good job.”
“then,” you tug his earlobe, “i got bored.”
“oh.”
satoru sighs—of course you did. he purses his lip, blue eyes flitting across the page as his spoiled pretty angel hugs his neck; dreary and tired and ‘bored’ in his lap. finals are coming up and things are not looking good for you. he prays for strength (again).
you seem to have found some strength of your own. gojo’s not sure when you pick up your phone (which he had confiscated from you earlier), but while he stares into the distance and laments your guaranteed failure, you scroll through your phone with a grin on your lips.
“toru, look at this bag,” you coo, pushing the bright screen to his face. “it’s so pink and pretty, just like me.”
“just like you,” he repeats, still staring into the distance.
“wow, nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars,” you kick your feet in his lap. “baby, can i buy it?” you coo, voice sweet.
satoru blinks out of his daze. he glances at the phone screen—then at you, suddenly sweet & bright & brimming with energy. his thumb brushes your inner thigh. “baby, you’re supposed to be studying.”
“i am studying,” you frown, and gojo wants to kiss it off again. “i’m studying consumer behavior. can i have your card?”
there are three reasons gojo satoru should not give you his card.
you are going to fail your exams.
you haven’t double-checked if the price is in CAD or USD.
you are going to fail your exams.
gojo lets you have his card.
you squeal, hopping off his lap to retrieve his wallet in the other room. satoru leans back against his desk chair. in front of him, his desk is a mess of opened books & littered pencils, a ‘get good grades!’ subliminal playing on your mini speaker because you insisted the whispered affirmations would guarantee your success. gojo sighs.
“thank you, toru!” you sing as you pad back into the room, a skip in your step. you lean down to kiss his cheek & flop onto his bed to open his laptop. you have his wallet in your hands, and gojo satoru already knows you will not double check the currency.
gojo closes your textbook with a sigh. better luck next time.
ac: (see alt text!) @ to00fu
DISTRACTIONS, end.
HEARTKAJI. do not steal, copy, edit, translate or reupload.
gentle!gojo takes his time with you. he worships you from head to toe, trailing kisses down your body. he traces your scars and asks you how you got them. he whispers softly to you: "you're beautiful" and "my pretty girl" until you turn away in embarrassment.
gentle!gojo loosens you up before slipping it in, using his fingers and his tongue to stretch you out. he's sure to make you come at least twice before he's satisfied. your pleasure was his pleasure.
gentle!gojo lovesss missionary because he can watch your face twist in pleasure as you take him. he showers you with praises to keep you going and checks in to make sure you're doing okay. he buries his face in your neck and breathes you in. you smell like sex and your sweet vanilla perfume, his absolute favorite.
gentle!gojo also gets pussy drunk. he presses kisses into your thigh and talks to your pussy. "so pretty, so soaked, just for me? what did i do to deserve all this," he slurs before nuzzling his head deeper in between your thighs.
gentle!gojo understands the importance of aftercare. he runs you a warm bath, lights your favorite candles, and holds you close to his chest. pressing his lips closely to your ear, he tells you how good you did for him and how proud of you he is. he thanks you for trusting him enough to have you like that.
on the other hand..
rough!gojo will fuck the attitude out of you if he has to. he pins your hands up and makes you take everything he gives you. "you done?" he asks, fingers tilting your chin back up when you tried to look away. if you dare to not reply, he snaps his hips against yours and taunts you. "what happened baby? you had a lot to say earlier."
rough!gojo uses you as an outlet to take all his anger out. he pounds into you at a relentless pace, gripping you so hard that you were sure to leave marks in the morning.
rough!gojo is the jealous type. he goes real quiet when he’s jealous, keeping a firm hand at your lower back possessively if a guy even looked in your direction the wrong way. the second you got home, he reminds you exactly who you belonged to.
rough!gojo degrades you in bed. he swears calling you a filthy slut or a dirty whore got you even wetter. he chuckles when you clench around him each time he whispered those words in your ear, balls slapping against your ass with each thrust, hitting that sweet spot deep inside.
rough!gojo loves to edge you. he brings you so close to the edge you could practically taste it, before pulling out randomly. "'toru," you whine. "please," you hiccup, tears forming in your eyes as you realize just how close you were. "i need to co—"
slamming back into you, he smirks as you yelp in response. "i tell you when you get to come. lemme hear baby, let go for me. for real this time."
rough!gojo has the stamina of a horse. he can go multiple rounds with little to no breaks. all he needs is to feel is your cunt fluttering around him and he flips you over onto your stomach, prepared to go again and again and again.
both sides of the same coin! been a minute since i've posted smut 🤔
series synopsis - in a world where soulmates were real, fate ties you to ryomen sukuna like some cruel and twisted joke. where people felt their soulmates in soft touches and quiet comfort, all you’ve ever known was phantom pain, sleepless nights, and a violent rage that didn’t belong to you. by the time you finally meet the man ruining your nervous system, the city already knew him as its most feared underground boxer. how would you survive? [mdni 18+]
chapters
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ prologue
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ one - coming soon
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ two - tbd
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ three - tbd
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ four - tbd
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ five - tbd
⚡︎ ⋆.˚ six - tbd
i haven’t decided if there’s going to be a taglist, i’ll let you know if there is one!
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: MDNI 18+, greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye
art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.
It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain.
He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls.
Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.
But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.
Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices.
As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?
And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind.
Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.
Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze.
But not you.
You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully.
Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.
He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.
Soon, he started coming more often.
The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.
There, you always seemed to be his.
His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.
For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.
Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.
Until one day, you were left alone.
No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.
And, well, him.
He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.
He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head.
Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.
He didn't dare to open his eyes.
As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.
Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.
Him.
And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair.
"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."
A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping.
But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.
Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.
Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.
"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."
Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.
Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.
And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin.
He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!
To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.
A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.
Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:
"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."
When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues.
No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water.
But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.
And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"
Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."
Liar.
You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.
And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land.
At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.
But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.
And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.
The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.
Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.
Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body.
All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists.
"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head.
And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.
"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"
You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.
You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.
And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk.
As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself.
So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.
The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth.
The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.
No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.
"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin.
A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."
It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.
Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.
The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed.
"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"
Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."
Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.
You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.
It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.
Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers.
The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom.
When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape.
But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.
"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.
You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."
Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."
"The Gods?"
His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."
You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.
But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.
For you, it was a matter of life and death.
For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate.
Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.
"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"
Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."
"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"
Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair.
The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love.
But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.
He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.
"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.
"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.
Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"
Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.
Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.
In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.
At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.
Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.
Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.
Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.
Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.
"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.
He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."
"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"
His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."
And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.
Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.
But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.
Pomegranate.
And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.
Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."
Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.
And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.
You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.
"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.
Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.
Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.
And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.
"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.
His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.
His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.
But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.
And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.
Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.
"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.
You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"
He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.
Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.
He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.
A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.
A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.
Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.
"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.
You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."
Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.
His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.
He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.
"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"
At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.
His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.
To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.
As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.
But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.
"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.
"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"
"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"
Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.
"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.
His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.
Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.
"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."
It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.
He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.
That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.
Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.
Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.
Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.
He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."
Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.
His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.
"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"
"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."
Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.
"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."
His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.
"My God–" you barely muffled.
"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."
His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.
"My God–"
"Do you understand me?"
"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.
"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."
With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.
His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.
It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.
"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."
You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.
You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."
Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"
You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."
And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.
The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.
There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.
The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.
It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.
He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.
Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.
Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.
He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.
For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.
For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.
The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.
It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.
And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.
And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.
But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.
"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."
And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.
Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.
When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.
It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.
But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.
Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.
During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.
Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.
One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.
"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."
"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.
Oh, you were so, so fucked.
"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."
Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"
Both you and Uraume shrugged.
"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.
You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.
"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.
Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."
Fuck.
The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.
The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–
"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.
"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.
He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.
"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?
Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.
"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"
His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.
Well, it usually could.
"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."
You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."
Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.
He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"
"They looked sad."
His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"
You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"
"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.
"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."
Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.
And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."
You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."
"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."
You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.
Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."
Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.
"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.
Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.
"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."
And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.
As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.
At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.
During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.
Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.
On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.
One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.
Something… alive.
The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.
Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.
"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.
There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."
And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.
And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.
Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"
Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."
Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.
You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.
And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.
With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.
You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.
That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.
The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.
Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.
Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.
"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"
She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"
"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"
She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.
"I came to take you back, of course."
A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.
Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.
And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.
To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.
"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.
"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."
She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I'm bound to the Underworld."
Lie.
But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.
"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"
Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."
She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"
"I love him."
And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.
As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.
Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."
Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.
Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."
There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.
Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.
You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.
Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.
Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.
You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.
"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"
"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."
His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."
Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.
He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.
With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.
When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.
His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"
His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."
And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.
In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.
All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.
Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.
The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.
"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."
Of course, you lied to your mother.
And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.
What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.
Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.
You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."
Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.
Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"
A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."
With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.
"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."
And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.
"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."
He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.
"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."
"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.
But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.
His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.
Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.
Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.
"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."
Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."
With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.
Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.
"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."
With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.
With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.
"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."
Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!
And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.
Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.
"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.
Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."
You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"
Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.
Both?
An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!
When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.
"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."
The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.
"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."
And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.
Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."
Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.
Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."
He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.
A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.
The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.
Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.
"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.
But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."
"No, you don't get it, I–"
The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.
You came.
Or maybe, gushed.
With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.
It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.
Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.
And this time, you knew that it was over.
He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.
Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.
"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."
The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.
The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.
His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.
"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."
Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.
The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.
"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.
His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.
A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"
He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.
"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."
Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.
You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.
When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."
"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"
His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."
The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.
A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.
His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.
"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."
He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."
Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.
But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.
And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.
Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.
Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.
Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.
୨୧ ― The flickering neon sign outside Toji's shitty little apartment paints his sweat slicked back in a red glow as he slams into you, bare with no condom this time. His rough calloused hands bite into your hips hard enough to bruise, the smack of skin on skin drowning out the choked whimpers you can't stop.
"Look at you," he growls, voice gravel drenched and smug. A thick vein pulses along his cock as he drags it out slow -too slow- just to watch your pussy flutter, desperate and empty, "Clenchin’ like a fuckin’ virgin around me every goddamn time. Beggin’ me to stay." His thumb swipes through the mess dripping down your thigh, shoving two fingers past your parted lips without warning, "Taste that? All you. No rubber bullshit ruining the flavor... Or fun."
You gag around his digits, tears pricking your eyes as he rams back in with a squelch. The obscene wetness of him splitting you raw makes your toes curl. He’s right -fuck he’s right- every drag of his bare cock lights your nerves like kerosene.
"Shoulda seen your face," he laughs, hips snapping forward to nail your cervix in a way that makes you see stars. The headboard cracks against the wall, your nails scratching red angry lines into his back. It's too good, so fucking good, but the thought of him filling you up like this- "Eyes wide, screamin’ ‘Toji, please, I’m not on the pill-!" His mimicry of your panic is vicious, mocking, "Too late now, princess, I'm gonna pump your womb full 'til it takes."
You feel him swell, thicker, hotter. Panic claws up your throat, "Wait-wait, I can’t-!" Despite your protests you can't help but pull him closer, thighs wrapped tight around his waist as he hammers home again and again, a broken mantra of, "Oh fuck oh fuck oh~-"
Toji cuts you off with a snarl, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tight enough to make your pulse hammer under his palm, "You can."
It’s the way he says it -like a vow, like a curse- that unravels you. Your legs tremble around his waist, heels digging into the muscles rippling across his lower back, "S'too good- T-Toji~♡!!! Please don-don't stop!! D-Don't p-pull out~♡! Make me a mother~"
He grins, all teeth, "There it is."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Toji Zenin hates condoms because he needs you to feel it- the primal, filthy truth of him branding your insides. The schlick of your juices mixing with his cum, the way your walls spasm when his tip kisses your cervix. He wants you dripping him for days, every step a reminder of how he utterly ruined you. No one could ever satisfy you the way he does.
But more than that?
He hates them because latex can’t give you his kid.
His favorite girl, you- the woman he can picture with a tiny diamond on your ring, belly swollen and soft. The idea of you carrying his brat makes his cock ache and his teeth grind. He imagines you walking around, round and glowing. Your tits, heavy with milk, aching for his mouth.
"S’why you keep comin’ back, right?" he mutters later, holding your limp body close as he licks the sweat from your neck. He rubs your stomach, still flat, but not for long, "Deep down… you want me to put a baby in you."
Toji can see it now- a boy, with his jawline and his eyes. A girl, with your smile and his nose. A handful of tiny brats, all perfect.
He knows it would be a mistake. A kid deserves better than a monster, a man who can count his friends on one hand. Toji will never be anything more than a glorified hired body. But the thought is tempting.
"Imagine my brat, growin’ in that pretty belly. Havin' family dinners… Soccer games… Movie nights…"
He's not the kind of guy you can build a life with. Too rough, too wild, too dangerous. But Toji can't deny the way his heart clenches at the idea.
"Fuck, baby… That'd make me so fucking happy…"
Toji Zenin hates condoms because, maybe, just maybe… He'd like a family to actually call his own.
God of the Dead was always alone. With the coldness weighing his heart and the stench of gastly doom clinging to his skin. But then, one day, the world under his feet shifted. Heart bloomed with bizarre fondness. And the Lord of the Underworld soon started to wish for nothing but to taste Spring Goddess's sweetness every single day. Even if he were to accomplish it by force.
requ ested (pray forgive me for waiting so long)
included in Tales, Myths, Romances
pairings: Hades!Trueform Sukuna x Persephone!Reader
content/warnings: greek mythology au, mythologically accurate, possessive behaviour, slightly dark romance, kidnapping, devotion, obsession, heavy smut, Sukuna is his own warning, proper use of belly mouth, double penetration, belly bulges, mating press, oral sex (both), facesitting, yearning, symbolism, Cerberus is just a baby, pussydrunk Sukuna, he's down bad, but he's also toxic
WC: 13.7k (the visions have plagued me)
a/n: I think we all know the story of Hades and Persephone, so this time there's no need for a history lesson! I just hope you'll like it because I had lots of fun writing it! And thank you, dearest anons, for the request <3
divider by @/diviniye
art by @/phantomosis on x
It was a universal truth that opposites attract.
Knowledge older than the Gods themselves.
Carved in marble and rivers, bending under the Greek sun in crystal serpentine. Crossing the lands, fields and meadows, with single droplets caressed by nymphs and fair birdies playing in the calm waters.
Everyone knew that opposites work together.
Everyone could look up and see the sun and the moon frolicking in the same sky. Brush their feet against the hard, stony paths covering the mountains, and yet see little snippets of flowers breaking through the surface. To experience sadness and joy, two contradictory feelings, yet impossible to exist without each other.
Everyone could enjoy the sharp breeze from the thunderstorms, preceded by the sizzling warmth coating their sweating skin.
Everyone knew the night had no meaning without a day. That spring couldn't exist without a death.
Everyone knew it.
Or did they?
Or was it maybe something that one, love-possessed God simply wished to believe in? That opposites could attract even in the most impossible-to-imagine scenarios.
It's not that the Gods of Olympus weren't paired in a rather bizarre manner. For there was a beauty of Aphrodite who cherished the brute God of War dearly. Zeus and Hera, so different and yet ruling over the divine world. And also Dionysus, who haunted by love towards a mortal, made her a goddess.
And yet, Lord Hades couldn't shake off the feeling that his love was plagued by a tragedy from the very beginning.
As how could it be that the Lord of the Underworld's heart, after thousands of years of being burdened by coldness, suddenly bloomed with restless warmth?
With a feeling so unknown and strange, his hand rested on his chest as if in desire to breeze the burning skin up. Long fingers tried to grab the muscle and tear the rosy flesh that separated him from it. But even the God of Death couldn't stop the lovely beating of his heart and mind tormented solely by a thought of… you.
It happened on a sunny day, when, usually hidden in the depths of hell, the Lord of the Underworld decided to take a stroll. Around the spring meadows, with the air carrying the flowery scent of blooming nature. So strange and bizarre, never floating around the endless plains of his domain.
He didn't show his face often up there, as God of the Dead was much, much busier than one could think! Humans were weak, reckless, dying like flies and flooding the Underworld with their restless souls.
Heron crossed the Styx like a madman, and Cerberus couldn't close his eyes even for a second, as the hell was a mad and troubled place.
But then, that one day when the sunlight finally blessed his crimson eyes, Hades, or Sukuna as he much rather preferred, could finally pleasure himself in breathing the air not stained by a musty smell of death.
Each of his steps left the lush grass withered, and the air bent under the heaviness of his aura. Birds would fall silent whenever the God of the Dead passed through the trees they sat in, as if in fear of being taken by the Grim Reaper too soon. Fruits hanging off the branches would suddenly fall rotten, not allowing God to taste the sweetness of their pristine juices.
As there was no sweetness or warmth in Sukuna's life and it had been a long time since he learned how to live with it. For why would anyone care about the wellness of the Lord of the Underworld himself?
And so the world withered and shattered around him, but God truly didn't mind.
Until he saw you, the Goddess of Spring.
Beautiful, alive, with sun smooching your laughing cheeks and eyes curving under the golden rays. Little flowers were tucked in your hair sweetly, and single strands framed your face heartily. Sukuna enjoyed looking at blooming plants, although they quickly withered under his bloody gaze.
But not you.
You quickly became his most dearest petal, with loose, light robes always in a riot of pastel hues and lovely laughter carried by spring winds through the vast meadows. Bare feet ran through the fields of flowers without any worries, and eyes always glanced somewhere over the horizon. Somewhere, towards the seas and trees and frolic nymphs playing near the rivers. Fingers weaved wreaths one by one, and a cooing voice helped the flowers grow and blossom beautifully.
Your robes were always slightly dirty from the earth, warm cheeks marked by pollen, eyes bustling with warmth and kindness, that touched every plant, every animal that cuddled into your open arms.
He usually lurked among the trees. Tall, broody, with a massive body covered by dark robes and a grim aura clinging to his skin. Four arms crossed on a wide chest and two pairs of eyes fixated on a young Goddess frolicking with her friends.
Soon, he started coming more often.
The usual workaholic, a gloomy God who liked nothing and no one, a brute, as some liked to call him, suddenly found something that started haunting his mind. His dreams and nightmares, as even there, you always seemed to smooch his cheeks like a soft petal.
There, you always seemed to be his.
His lovely, dear wife. A Queen of the Underworld.
For all those days he watched you carefully, you've never noticed him.
Not even once, as if completely blinded to everything else outside the walls of your little world.
Until one day, you were left alone.
No friends chirping to your ear, no animals warming your legs – just you.
And, well, him.
He didn't know when and how, but a warming tiredness fell on his eyes, and oh-so-mighty God of the Death slipped into a light slumber. With withered grass lulling his heavy body and birds ogling him from the thick branches. Wind whirred quietly, brushing his pink hair, slipping between the strands and massaging tired temples.
He could almost swear that he fell asleep on the grass. Hard ground moulding under his even harder body and green tuft giggling his cheeks. And yet, after turning and squirming like a restless child, he felt something softer under his head.
Something plush, squishy, beaming with the sweetest, flowery fragrance he's ever smelled. The wind's murmur turned into a lovely hum. A melody that coiled his senses and flooded down his spine, filling his body like the sweetest wine.
He didn't dare to open his eyes.
As he knew, the sight of the lovely Goddess brushing gently through his hair would lead to his death. For Sukuna was rather sure that the only thing in this world that could truly stop his heart was the graceful look of your eyes fixed on him.
Not on flowers, not nymphs, nor animals.
Him.
And thus he lay quietly, with your thighs dipping under his head and soft fingers playing with his hair.
"The Lord of the Underworld in my spring domain," you hummed, swirling a pink strand around your finger. "What a bizarre sight, I must admit."
A chuckle slipped from between your lips when his brows furrowed. Slightly yet rather openly stating that the God of the Dead, with his colossal body bending your earth, has not, in fact, been sleeping.
But there was no need to out his silly manner, and your fingers continued soft curls around his temples. As everyone, no matter their origin, was most welcome in your domain.
Something changed around him. The air, the melody, the structure of grass.
Your presence brought life back to the withered plants and silenced animals that feared him. The birds sitting high on the branches slowly flew down, huddling shyly on his chest. Decayed grass turned lush once again, smooching his skin with its plushness.
"There's no need for fear," you whispered warmly, seeing how wary the animals were of his presence. "He is a good creature too."
Forest animals started to come closer, and closer, and closer, with deer sniffing his body and frogs clumping on his shoulders. Their little, sticky toes left traces of gluey slime, but he didn't mind.
Because God of the Dead rarely felt a life embrace his body.
And thus he decided to cherish it and pray that this single, intimate moment would last forever. With your thighs beaming warmth under his head and animals cuddling to his limbs. Surrounding him in a tight circle with furs and feathers tickling his skin.
He couldn't open his eyes, to not destroy the moment, although, heavens, he truly wished!
To see your hearty face up close. To brush the lower lip coloured with fresh berries and tuck a single strand of hair behind your ear. To see the way pastel robes clung to your skin like a mist, and eyes peeked down at him. But instead, he could only lie quietly and listen to the melody slipping past your lips, curling around his mind like a viper.
A moment has passed, and the deep slumber began to coo his senses. He tried to fight it, longing to stay in your embrace a little longer. To remember the melody of your voice and the pattern of fingertips massaging his temples. The flowery, honeyed fragrance clinging to your skin and filling every corner of his body, taking away his privilege to smell anything else for the next few days.
Before the darkness blanketed his mind and breath became shallower, he could hear the last whispers of your voice:
"Go to sleep, my God. Allow me to accompany you for a while."
When he woke up, you were no longer there. Just a withered grass bending under his body and the warmth of the setting sun bathing his hair in red hues.
No sign of you or animals, and the God, once again, felt devastated. As if deprived of something he should hold onto with all his strength. He was a divine being, after all, and yet your misty figure slipped between his fingers like flowing water.
But his mind recalled those few words. Allow me to accompany you.
And thus, Sukuna decided to take this wish too faithfully.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
"Stop going out there alone," your mother has sighed, looking at your figure swirling around the wooden hut. "It's dangerous, the Gods are unpredictable–"
Your head shook, lifting the little willow-wined basket used for gathering flowers. "I am a Goddess, mother," you chirped in with a giggle, before glancing at the woman's creased forehead. "And you are too. There's simply no need to fear anything. Besides, we're safe in the spring domain."
Liar.
You didn't tell her about the God of Death crossing the border between the Underworld and mortals much more often than he should. Than he used to. With his gloomy aura beaming off the woods, although he thought that you didn't notice it. Crimson eyes followed you every single day for the past few weeks, and whenever he appeared, one side of your domain suddenly went quiet. Withered, under his death-bringing feet and the silent atmosphere he spread around himself.
And as a Goddess of Spring, you knew of everything happening on your land.
At the beginning, you thought it was rather funny. To see the animals and flowers frightened by his sole presence. You didn't give it much thought, as various Gods had strolled through the plains of your earth and chit-chatted whenever they spotted your figure hunched over the flowers.
But Lord of the Underworld wasn't the talkative type, nor did he engage in any closer relations. In fact, you didn't know much about him aside from what you'd managed to notice over the past weeks.
And you've noticed a lot. His body was built like a mountain, with a heaviness that couldn't be put into words. Two pairs of crimson eyes, lidded like sweet almonds and framed by rather long lashes. Pinkish hair reminding you of blushed peonies, and you wondered whether it would feel equally soft under your touch. Four muscular arms carried the little birdies up their trees when he thought you didn't see, and black stripes curled around his body – like deathly mist, tattooed all over his chest, back, and cheeks, as the God of the Dead didn't mind relaxing his beastly, naked body in the nearby rivers.
The water spilt over the grassy edge, and four arms rested on drenched earth. Crystal water looped his body shyly, smooching the sun-kissed skin with cold kisses. He couldn't see your hazy figure lurking in the bushes.
Your eyes glimmering like two fresh peaches and lips curling in a sly smile, upon seeing muscles upon muscles bending on the God's back. Slick and bulging, stripped of the heavy, dark robes he usually wore and enjoying the kisses of the Mediterranean sun.
Sometimes a nymph would notice him bathing at the river and coo shyly at the handsome but rather intimidating God. You've always observed those interactions from the tree, lurking curiously, with birds perched on your shoulders. All the encounters always ended in a rather pathetic failure, with the Lord of the Underworld ignoring the sweet chirps of little nymphs and their promises to warm his cold body.
All of them flew quickly upon seeing a grave grimace twisting the God's face, and all four palms curling into fists.
"Always so, so angry," you murmured to the red bird sitting on your finger, as it nodded its little head.
And so you didn't tell your mother about these few encounters, for there was no need to worry her. She kept you away from the Olympian Gods as long as she could, yet couldn't stop you from becoming a Goddess too. Truly unfortunate, if she had to admit it, as she had tried for a whole life to keep you well hidden in the far, far corner of Mount Olympus, in your own little spring domain.
"Just be careful," your mother whispered, pushing back a few loose strands of your hair. A small basket hung on your back, and robes clung to your skin. "You know how Gods can be…"
You knew. For you heard of Apollo and Daphne. Of Medusa and a curse sent upon her for being a maiden far too beautiful. About Zeus and Callisto, and more, more Goddesses, who suffered a terrible fate from the hands of Gods themselves.
You understood your mother's worry. Why she tried to tie you up to this little hut hidden in the woods of Olympus. Why she was the Goddess of Agriculture and tried so, so hard to keep her dear spring flower hidden from the prying eyes.
And yet, the serpent flow of destiny was truly twisted and unpredictable. Bending under the Moirai's deathly whispers, with a thin thread slipping between their bony fingers like a river of silk.
As many Goddesses before you, you too were soon to learn that playing with Gods – particularly those who seemed to take a special fondness for you – was a treacherous path. That approaching them cheekily, taking pleasure in keeping them in your arms and cooing like a wounded animal, was simply foolish. Mad, in every deep sense of the word, as out of the many Gods in this world, you particularly should not play like a fox with the Lord of the Underworld himself.
So, on the same day, as golden rays dribbled down your figure hunched over flowers, hands picking the season's most beautiful blooms, the earth suddenly burst open. With a raw, brutal rumble, unleashing chaos across the peaceful meadow. Birds rose from the lush branches, and all the forest animals that were cuddling near your body ran off.
The heavy dust had covered your eyes, smooching flimsy dress and delicate petals that bent under the heavy, little droplets of curled earth.
The obsidian chariot harnessed with three black horses appeared right in front of your eyes. Tall and eerie, still carrying the coldness of the Underworld and a man whose crimson eyes stared down at your figure.
No words could slip past your lips as one muscular arm lifted you up and easily flipped you over the shoulder. Locking you in place with the sheer strength of one hand, until your head hung down the man's back.
"Wait!" Rolled in a scream as the world in front of your eyes started to spin.
A voice you hadn't heard yet punched you like a bucket of cold water. "Don't be afraid, my Goddess," Sukuna said, before whistling to his horses. "You'll soon be able to run through the meadows of the Underworld."
It tasted raw, heavy, so, so low, licking your ears with flamed tongues. A voice truly worthy of the God of the Dead himself.
Before you knew it, the earth had swallowed the chariot once again. The rumbling tore through your spring domain, causing vast fields of flowers to vanish as if slowly devoured by the sky. The horses sped downward, pulling the chariot deeper into the earth, until only a faint glimpse of the familiar sun remained – a warmth you wouldn't see again for the next few months.
The darkness engulfed you, wrapping your skin with icy, deadly touches. It felt as though the three sisters had already severed your thread of fate, sending you to the Underworld sooner than anticipated and plunging you into the claws of the beast you inadvertently unleashed.
"My God," you mumbled, trying to wriggle under his heavy arm. "Where are you taking me?"
Sukuna chuckled lowly, his whole body trembling with a laugh that made your spine tingle. "To home, my dearest Queen."
Deathly whispers curled around your body with curiosity, as if the air in the Underworld had tasted such a sweet life for the first time. Dark clouds filled the sky, and the chariot plunged even lower. Soon, a vast, grimy land spread beneath you, with a thick river curling around the dark soil.
You have never seen the Underworld and have never shown any interest in it. Yet, from that point, with the obsidian chariot soaring high in the sky, it looked mesmerising. Almost magical, with deep, dark forests and withered meadows stretching across the land, lit only by the pale blue light of the moon and little gleaming shadows wandering aimlessly across the plains.
It wasn't difficult to spot Hades's temple. Or maybe you should say a castle.
Sitting quietly on the cliff, with Styx's calm waters flowing beneath its heavy walls. It towered over the whole domain, glimmering in blue light under the moonlight's kisses, and something in your breath has hitched upon seeing an enormous garden filled with withered trees looming over the dead flowers.
The air was biting cold, and yet the closer you were to the temple, the warmer it seemed to smooch your skin. It didn't carry the familiar flowery fragrance, but rather a heavy, woody scent, as if something alive still lingered in the bleak land filled with agony and doom.
When the chariot came to a halt on the dark grass, Sukuna set you down gently. With one strong arm still stalling on your back, as if afraid the moment your feet touched the earth, you would try to escape.
But there was no chance for it, as the Underworld was a trickery and a dangerous place.
"From now on, this is your home. My Queen," his crimson eyes never left your face, even when the hand showed towards the temple looming deathly.
You moved a step away, trying to slip from between the heavy fingers brushing your waist. "It is not my home, and I will not be your Queen. Now take me back to my domain."
Looking up was a mistake, for the gravity of his gaze almost pulled you down to earth. Four eyes stared down at your fuming face before one hand lifted and fingers traced the softness of your warm cheeks. "I cannot do it, my Goddess. That's what I decided, and that's what the Gods accepted."
"The Gods?"
His big thumb brushed your lower lip, and you smacked his hand away. A low chuckle slipped through before he pushed you towards the temple. "Zeus agreed, and that's all that matters. Neither you nor even your mother has any say in it."
You tried to move away again, but his strong arm only pulled you closer to his massive body. Twice your height, with four arms ready to manhandle you like a beast – you knew standing up to him would be foolish. And yet, you tried.
But he didn't mind, as you weighed less than a feather and lifting you was not a sweat for a God of his calibre. Your body once again rolled like a sack over his shoulder, but this time you tried to fight. With nails dragging down his back and teeth digging into the muscles bulging under his robes.
For you, it was a matter of life and death.
For him? A flimsy, sweet teasing from his dearest Goddess, who was yet to accept her fate.
Oh, his heart swelled with the purest joy at the sight of your misty figure wrapped in his arms after weeks of yearning. It didn't matter whether you wanted to stay here or not – Sukuna aimed to use every possible means to soothe your mind and pamper you like his precious wife.
"You ignorant brute, a beast, freak!" Rolled furiously, as you once again left the bloody, tooth marks on his back. "You cannot do it!"
Another throaty chuckle escaped from his side, with his arm cuddling around your waist with fondness. "I can, my Goddess. That's how love works."
"And what can you possibly know about love, my God?"
Sukuna didn't know much, but his greedy desire to always keep you in his sight and worship you as if you were the only Goddess in the pantheon must have been close to what love felt like. To get drunk on your laugh and the plush skin of your body every single evening, as if his whole world twisted around nothing but you. To hear your chipper run with stale wind through his decaying land and once again feel your fingers brush through his hair.
The God of the Dead, the elder of the mightiest brothers, harbinger of death, wished for nothing but to taste the nectar of your love.
But with a frown you looked at him, your teeth digging deeper into his skin – for now, it seemed rather fruitless.
He entered the temple and moved towards the massive stairway curling to the heavens themselves. Your furious shouts could be heard throughout the whole land, but it seemed that neither he nor the servant who suddenly appeared seemed to mind.
"Uraume, prepare a bath for the Queen," Sukuna said, glimpsing quickly towards the woman. Her white, short hair curled around her slim face, and deep eyes blinked in amusement at your sorry state.
"My Lord, I don't think the Queen likes this position," she muttered, sending you a pleading look.
Sukuna scoffed, correcting your body on his shoulder. "The Queen acts like a brat, so she will be treated like one"
Uraume nodded before going down the stairs and disappearing somewhere in the deep chambers of the temple.
Thus, it was the two of you again, and Sukuna moved slowly through the dark corridors, with blue flames licking your writhing body. He didn't mind the shouts, the nails scarring his back through the dusky robes till crimson droplets formed under the material and bites that your teeth have left on his shoulders.
In fact, the God of the Dead took a bizarre pleasure in feeling your flaming touch on his skin. Something in his chest swelled whenever your lips travelled to his neck, and it didn't really matter that they left the bloody bites and not the nectar kisses he yearned for.
At some point, you've finally entered the big chamber. The weird warmness crept through the tall windows, bending in heavy, marble arches. Vast plains of the Underworld rolled like waves on the horizon, and you stopped scratching Sukuna's back when the full land came in view.
Beautiful, endless, mesmerising, so different from what you grew up with. With only a pale, blue moon constantly shining upon the lost souls and deep, agonising cries coming from the Tartarus.
Sukuna finally put you down. "That's our chamber," rolled almost proudly, and you looked around the bedroom.
Dark, draped in misty veils, with a huge bed covered with crimson sheets and a baldachin moving together with gentle swooshes of wind. Warm flames have lit the place, with torches and long waxed candles glimmering shyly around the whole chamber.
Just behind the crimson curtain, you've heard the dripping of water and Uraume's hushed voice. So that must've been the bath.
"I will not be sleeping with you in one bed, my God," you barked, but Sukuna seemed not to care at all.
He pushed you towards the balcony, with a heavy hand placed on your lower back. "That's the garden. I made it for you," your chest squeezed. For you. "You can do anything you want with it, of course."
"It's impossible to grow life within your domain," slipped harshly, before your eyes looked up. Crimson moons stared down at you. All the time. "So you kidnapped me to grow you a garden?"
His sharp jaw tightened. "I did it for your own good," he muttered, hand lifting to brush away your hair. "For our good. I want you to be the Queen of the Underworld. My wife," fat thumb kissed you fuming cheek. "My Goddess."
And as much as you wished to stay angry, it felt impossible to hide the special fondness rising in your chest. A mix of hate and curiosity, as it was difficult to imagine why the Lord of the Underworld himself was such a desperate beast to lock you in his clutches.
Your eyes went back to the garden, taking in the withered earth and flowers bending in death.
But then you've noticed something – a tree. Dark, yet looking rather alive, blooming with red, round fruits that looked as if ready to burst.
Pomegranate.
And you, as the Goddess of Spring, knew why it seemed to be the only fruit growing deep within this deathly domain.
Sukuna followed your lidded eyes before a low hum filled the air. "You'll eat it at some point," seeing a sudden shock bathing your face and a slow shake of your head, he added. "Even if I have to force you."
Soon, you would discover that there were many, many other things the God of Death would force upon you, just to keep you within his touch.
And as surprising as it seemed, eating the pomegranate seeds to bind you eternally to the Underworld would be the last.
You didn't say anything, looking at the pomegranate tree with a grim expression ripping your lips. A Spring Goddess you were, and yet the single look of this rich fruit made you want to burn it right here and there.
"My Lord, my Queen, the bath was prepared," Uraume slipped in politely, before once again disappearing into the darkness.
Sukuna came inside, and you followed, passing under his heavy arm as he lifted the curtains between the chamber and bath.
Multiple candles licked dark walls, and the steam curled in the air. The big, marble pool filled with hot water called your name like a madman, and you were ready to tear your dress in half just to dip inside. The air in the Underworld was much, much colder than up in your domain, and after the eventful day, you truly wished for nothing but a simple bath.
And yet, even this was to be wrecked by Sukuna's four hands slipping the misty robes of your shoulders. Your trembling finger caught the dress in front of your chest before it could fall.
"My God, may I know what you are doing?" There was no trace of madness in your tone, only simple weariness and irritation.
His lips curled in a smirk, and if not for both hands gripping your dress, you would surely smack his cheek. You would try at least, as bending your head back to meet his gaze was already difficult enough.
His dark robes hit the floor before you've noticed it, exposing you to the view that – rather unfortunately – made your thighs clench. Massive thighs bulged under muscles, and it seemed clear that he could snap your neck with a single clamp.
But it wasn't the thighs that hit your cheeks with a maddened fever. No, rather two, fat cocks, with shafts so heavy they barely stood straight. Droplets of sticky pearls curled around two pulsing heads, sticking like a net to his pubes. The smooth, reddened skin glimmered under the dimmed flames, and your breath hitched while taking in the inhumane size.
And then your eyes followed up to his belly, mouth grinning mischievously, torso wide as mountains and four arms, just waiting to grab your flimsy body.
Sukuna was… terrifying. Alluring, feral, obscene, but oh so beautiful. With a body worthy of a God and an almost tyrannical aura that clung to him like a second skin. The mortals have feared him, Gods always tried to keep the relations as polite as possible, and yet you somehow found a wisp of fondness coiling in his gaze.
"I'm planning to bathe with my Queen, of course," Sukuna murmured, tilting his head with a cheeky grin. Four crimson eyes burned your skin, and you've never, ever felt as small and helpless as now. "Let me help you with it." Fingers tugged on your dress, trying to slip it down.
You took a step back, gripping the robe even tighter. "My God, I'm fine. But please enlighten me why we should take a bath together?"
He, however, was relentless, and it took a single, harsher tug to let your robes fall down the marble floor. A gasp slipped past your lips as you tried to cover yourself with pathetic moves.
Sukuna lifted your body with a single arm, and soon both of you sat on the little bench carved in a pool.
He took a deep, deep sigh, leaning against the edge. Two muscular arms kept you in place, with your back plastered to his chest and ass brushing against the massive cocks, while the other two started to soap you up.
A shiver ran down your spine, feeling big, yet soft hands smooching your skin in gentle circles. Slowly, tenderly, massaging your shoulders and back, going down, and down, to the swell of your wet breasts.
A quiet, shy moan escaped your feverish cheeks when his thumbs brushed the perked nipples. You wriggled under his touch, as if fighting against itself to give into the warmness beaming from his body and heavy fingers washing your tired skin.
Your hips jerked again when he pinched your nipples, sending a sudden, electrifying wave down your spine.
"My Queen, try to keep yourself in place," he said with a low voice, and only then did you notice that your ass had been bumping against his cocks for this whole time.
You didn't look back, as if in fear that even a single glance could pique Sukuna's curiosity and test the dangerous waters of your patience. "Is it necessary, my God? I can wash myself."
Two hands gripped your hips, quickly turning you towards him.
Your hands rested on his shoulders as he sat you right on his muscular thighs. The water spilt over the pool's marble edge, and crimson eyes stayed fixed on your face. On your slightly parted lips and hair sticking to your cheeks.
His upper arms slipped up to your waist, while the lower ones started to massage your thighs. In slow, gentle circles, dangerously close to the naked pussy that bounced against the fatness of his shafts.
He played a dangerous, oh so dangerous game, but took a maddened satisfaction in observing the changing looks on your face. Anger mixed with delight, as if you wanted to hit him and nuzzle into his touch at the same time.
"What's wrong, my Queen?" he muttered, soaping up your waist. "Why would you wash yourself alone if your husband is here?"
At this point, both of you knew that the bath was a mere, foolish excuse for the Lord of the Underworld to finally enjoy the sight of your naked body. To take a pleasure in feeling your naked skin against his and test his own patience, feeling the warmth of your cunt brushing against his cocks.
His moves were deprived of any sexual manner, and yet your insides burned with the most wicked flame. Your drenched fold were bumping against his cocks, yes, and the fat shaft brushed against your clit, maybe, but even then, he didn't try to push you.
To force himself on you, as if waiting for your consent.
As if he wished you craved him as much as he did you.
But even then, every few seconds, he would move closer. His fingers would brush your trembling nipples, hips move beneath yours, and he would always take in your muffled moans with a sly smile.
"You're not m-my husband," rolled embarrassingly weak, and Sukuna hummed, brushing your lower lip with his thumb.
"Not yet. I'll give you time to make yourself at home," thick digit slipped inside your mouth, and you quickly bite it. Hard, feeling his bones crack under your teeth, although he only smiled. Like a man possessed. "As I was saying, I'll give you a month–"
"And what then?" you mumbled, with lips still curled around his thumb. "What if you won't tame me after a month?"
Pink strands of hair stuck to his wet forehead, and you needed to dig your nails into his chest, not to lift the fingers and brush them away. Four crimson eyes – two big, lidded in slyness and two smaller, curved like a moon – drank in the sight of a sweet little Goddess squirming on his massive body.
"Then I'll force you to love me," spilled calmly, without hesitation. And maddening yearning in his eyes told you that he was ready to do it. That his understanding of love was far from the sweetness and kindness you've known of.
His fingers travelled up, through the breasts, collarbones, and neck, till the second hand joined your face. He cupped your cheeks gently yet lined with restrained violence.
Possessiveness, madness, that filled his flamed eyes.
"Don't test my patience, my Goddess," he murmured softly, pulling your face closer. His lips nearly brushed against yours, and a wave of warmth washed over your body. "Let me love you in my own way, and I promise to make you happy. Within my domain, you can be as free as you desire."
It was difficult not to have your heart flutter upon hearing those words.
He knew how crazy your mother was about you. That you spent most of your life chained to her leg, never leaving the spring domain, never feeling the winds of freedom.
That's why his promise sounded so exhilarating. Wild, absolutely insane, and yet letting you let out a deep sigh. Because finally, after so many years, you were alone.
Without your mother, without the prying eyes of Gods, without the same meadows caging around you like a prison.
Only with a much, much bigger, heavier, and mind-spilling problem, of a God of the Dead who seemed to take a special, wicked interest in you.
Your hands, still trembling on his chest, pushed yourself away. Hips slipped from his cocks, but not before giving two, feverish heads one last brush. As if you wanted to push him over the edge.
He groaned and squinted his eyes. "Where are you going, my Goddess? We're not done yet."
Four hands shoot towards you, fingers trying to catch your slippery body. It curled at the end of his fingertips, teasing him mischievously with full breasts dripping with crystal droplets and soft skin glimmering under the gentle flame of candles.
His cocks moved, eyes tried to take the wholeness of your divine beauty, and yet, after weeks of watching you every single day, he still couldn't believe that a woman of your sort truly walked this earth.
"I am done with you…" your eyes curved cheekily as you slowly moved back. "My God. I agree to a monthly trial–"
"It's not a trial, you'll be staying here forever."
Your back hit the pool's edge, but Sukuna didn't move. Instead, he observed you. Like a predator, preparing for a deadly attack.
"As I said, I do agree. But if you won't manage to persuade me to stay," slipped in a whisper, and you smiled even wider, seeing a furrow creasing his forehead. "I will simply kill myself. Just like Daphne did."
His heart nearly stopped, crimson eyes bloodshot. Before you could escape the pool, two arms yanked you back, pressing your chest against his. He lifted you, wrapping your legs around his waist. Finger gently squeezed your face with a slight pinch, until salty fog blurred your sight.
"My God–" you barely muffled.
"Don't ever," he growled, gripping your cheeks harsher. "Ever say that in front of me again. I will break your legs if I have to. I will tie you up to bed if you force me to," something warm spilt from his belly, and just then, you remembered about his mouth. Heavy tongue took a long, fat drag of your wet cunt, and you cried within his brutal embrace. "You are mine. Every dream of yours, every part of your body, every single laugh, all of it belongs to me."
His grip on your cheeks was too strong to let you shake your head, but light enough to allow another moan to spill from your throat. In sweetness and pain, feeling the teeth of his belly mouth pinch your clit.
"My God–"
"Do you understand me?"
"I-I–ahh," a cry filled the foggy bath, feeling his tongue slurp on your wetness. It felt heavy, girthy, tasting you with a maddened pleasure as if feasting on the honeyed juices dripping down the water.
"Do you understand?" he gritted through his teeth, loosening up his grip on your cheeks. "I don't like to repeat myself."
With another sweet mewl, your head lulled to one side in a nod, and he finally released you from his clutches. You stood right in front of him – wet, trembling, with slippery thighs and cunt already missing the swirling of his tongue on your clit.
His thumb followed down to his belly, gathering traces of your cum. A second later, thick digit found its way to your lips, pushing the stickiness right onto your tongue.
It tasted sweet, almost milky-like, clinging to the muscle like a spider's web while his thumb smeared it all over your insides.
"Tastes delicious, hm? That's what you're keeping away from me," Sukuna groaned, drinking in the sight of your teary face. "I am not a patient man, my Goddess, but my heart belongs to you, and I wish to treat you the best I can," he lifted up your face, creaming your cheeks with the rest of the cum. "But I do warn you, dearest. When the month passes, I won't be holding myself anymore. So you'd better accept this fate and just let me love you."
You didn't nod, didn't even blink. Just observed his devilishly handsome face with teary, wrecked eyes beaming with fury.
You tried to snap back, but his thumb pushed harder on your tongue. "Uraume," he called, looking somewhere over your shoulder. "Take the Queen back to our chamber. I think she's a bit tired."
Light, white robes curled around your shoulder, before Uraume gently pulled you away from Sukuna's clutches. "My Queen, allow me to–"
You shook off her hand, wiping the rest of your cum from your cheek. "Thank you, I know how to tuck myself to sleep."
And so you left your future husband alone, with rage and ecstasy still mixing beneath your chest.
⛥ ⛥ ⛥
The next few weeks passed with silence and tension binding the Goddess of Spring and the God of the Dead like a thin thread of fate. Only the three sisters were able to cut it swiftly and release you from the torment, and yet no one ever came to save the poor petal.
The first few days you spent mostly in the garden, lying under the pomegranate tree and observing the darkness blanketing the sky. The withered plains of the Underworld have never been touched by sunlight, and the lack of it started to bother you too.
There was no way to tell day from night, as the air was always slightly cold and the sky never turned any colour other than dark blue. Sometimes a sudden fog has risen over the horizon, curling above the parched trees.
The agonising screams from Tartarus could be heard over from your balcony, although after complaining to Sukuna about your lack of sleep, they somehow quieted down. You didn't pry into his methods, nor did you need to exactly know how he accomplished it.
It was difficult to grow anything in the garden, and after days of trying, you finally gave up. Well, not entirely, for you spent more and more days trying to think of a plant that would not need sun nor much water to bloom and if Sukuna could let you out even for a few days, surely you could find something.
He, however, was fully relentless at your begging as there was nothing binding you to the Underworld. Yet.
Fresh pomegranates whispered sweet sins to your ears as you looked at the round fruits bursting with crimson seeds. You wondered what they tasted like. How pristine their juices were.
Sometimes your finger would trace their hard skin with delicacy and quickly pull away, feeling Sukuna's heavy gaze drilling the hole in the back of your skull.
He seemed to always have you in his sight. It didn't really matter whether you strolled around the garden or went deeper into his domain – he was always there. Somewhere, lurking at your misty figure, the only colourful thing in his vast world, even if you didn't see him.
For the first few days, you didn't talk at all. And he was oh so angry with your nasty mood swings, even though it seemed he truly tried to be on his best behaviour.
For a while, you even refused to sleep in the same bed. He would wake up in the middle of the night only to find you cuddled into Cerberus's massive, soft body, snoring like a little baby and nuzzled under his heavy neck.
The beastly dog quickly became your favourite creature in the whole domain, and Sukuna couldn't count the times when you strolled with it through the dark plains and meadows, giggling sweetly whenever it rolled in withered grass.
It seemed the beast was particularly fond of and protective of you, so that even the God of Death himself could not approach you without the beast's shiny, sharp teeth growling his way. Crimson eyes observed him carefully, as if ready to rip his heart out if his lone finger brushed your silky skin.
And whenever Sukuna reminded you that Cerberus also had his role in the Underworld, the loveliest pout would twist your lips, and a dog's low growl would slash through the air.
And because Sukuna was softhearted only for you, he didn't have another choice but to allow you to adopt Cerberus as your own, exclusive pet.
But he absolutely couldn't stand waking up to the coldness wrapping around his body, and thus, for the first few days, in the middle of the night, he would travel all the way to Cerberus's cave only to take his Goddess back.
"Where is she?" the God would growl, with all four arms folded on his chest and eyes lidded with sleep. "Give her back, she'll come back to you in the morning anyway."
And the dog would usually ignore him, with three massive heads pretending to be plagued by a heavy slumber. Sukuna would sigh and slip a soft plea, trying to resonate with a beast he raised himself.
Three pairs of bloodshot eyes would glare at him deathly, but after a few quite embarrassing and yet desperate pleadings, the dog would lift his head up, only to reveal your peacefully slipping body. Curled against his fluffy neck, with fingers gripping the soft fur and shallow, peaceful breaths coming from your parted drooling lips.
Sukuna would lift you up with utmost care and bring you back to your chamber, wrapping himself around your body with all six limbs.
When the "morning" came, he was always the first one to slip from the bed. But not before getting himself untangled from your body. Lying serenely on his broad chest, with a drool pooling right above his heart and soft strands of your hair tickling his chin.
It was his most favourite sight during that month, and the only chance to see your face without a pout or crease forming on your lovely forehead. No matter how hard he tried, he still couldn't get close to you as much as he wished to.
But at least, after the few weeks of constantly going back and forth between your chamber and Cerberus's cave, you finally stopped escaping from his clutches and slept in his embrace for a whole night.
Moreover, during those weeks spent in each other's presence, you seemed to enjoy nothing more than pissing the God of the Dead off.
During one eventful night that both he and Uraume would recall in the future with a painful headache, you sat quietly at the long table. The wooden furniture bent under the heavy supper, with meats, fruits and vegetables prepared in feast portions.
Sukuna loved to see your cheeks stuffed full, and sometimes you would even joke that he tried to fatten you up only to eat you for dessert. He chuckled lowly, every time answering that if only you spread those thighs nicely, my Goddess, I would gladly eat you for breakfast, lunch and dinner.
An embarrassed, nasty slip from your lips, as you tried to ignore the warmth blooming in your lower belly.
One evening, however, Uraume interrupted your supper with a heavy panting and trembling gaze.
"My Lord, my Queen," she said, taking a few deep breaths. "Forgive me for the intrusion, but something deeply concerning has occurred."
"What is it?" Sukuna mumbled, not even looking her way. Instead, he poured you another cup of wine, while you tried to hide your flushed cheeks behind a curtain of hair.
Oh, you were so, so fucked.
"All the souls lingering on the river's banks have entered the Underworld."
Sukuna suddenly stopped and put the jug of wine back on the table with a loud thud. "What?!"
Both you and Uraume shrugged.
"Charon took them all," she said, glimpsing your way.
You, however, looked down at your plate, as if trying to completely erase yourself from this conversation.
"All of them were buried with a coin? How is it possible?" Sukuna growled.
Uraume took a deep sigh, with deep, sorry eyes still lingering on your hunched figure. "He said that…" She hesitated, biting down on her lower lip. "The Queen ordered to let them in."
Fuck.
The air suddenly stilled, and a moment passed before Sukuna's crimson, angry eyes looked your way. But it's not like you could see the rage blazing in his gaze, as you still carefully observed the fresh fig lying on your plate.
The fact that he somehow got delivered all your favourite, fresh fruits down to the Underworld was truly–
"Do you want to tell me something, my Queen?" he asked with utmost politeness, although you sensed the displeasure bubbling in his throat.
"No, not really," you murmured, playing with a juicy fruit.
He took a deep sigh, curling all four of his hands into fists. A soft vein popped on his forehead as he truly, really tried to keep himself calm.
"I will ask you again," slipped softly, before his two hands pulled your chair closer to him. Your thighs brushed against each other, and his fingers lifted your chin up. Till you were forced to meet his heavy, bloody gaze. "Is there anything you wish to tell me?
Oh, lying to him like that was much, much harder.
"Listen," you started, and he already sighed. "I don't see any problem with it. Why would you keep them there if Charon can just take them all to the Underworld? Isn't that the whole point of your domain?"
His fingers tightened on your chin because, dear-fucking-heavens, he really struggled to hold it together. Four bloodshot eyes looked down at your pouty lips and doe eyes, as if your pure loveliness could melt his anger.
Well, it usually could.
"They cannot enter Hades if they do not get buried with a coin. That's the rule all of them must obey," rolled harshly, and your pout became even sweeter. Fuck. "How did you even force Charon to do it? This old man is stubborn as hell."
You nestled into his palm, attempting to ease his heart with a gentle, pleading look. "It turns out most of the creatures here are quite afraid of Cerberus," you giggled, even though Sukuna was clearly unhappy. "Um, and they’re also afraid of you. The threat of reporting to the Lord of the Underworld himself tends to work quite effectively."
Sukuna pulled away with a heavy groan and started massaging his temples. One side of him was rather happy that, after weeks of fighting, you decided to use both your title and him to get what you wanted. But the other wanted to curl his fingers around your neck and snap it clean, for the mess you have caused with your need to piss him off.
He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths. "Why did you do it?"
"They looked sad."
His crimson gaze once again snapped to your face. "Sad? The souls?"
You nodded. "Well, all of them wanted to enter Hades so–"
"My Goddess, you can't do such a thing!" Uraume cried, looking out the tall window as if all those souls were travelling up Hades' temple.
"Why? I thought I was the Queen of the Underworld." A cheeky smile curved your lips, and Sukuna almost lost it. "I can do whatever I want. Your own words, my God."
Well, he did tell you that from now on, this domain was under both his and your control, but his mind ran far too short to predict that you, in fact, wouldn't know the most basic rules of this land.
And thus, he could only swallow his rage and look back at Uraume. "Catch them all and bring them back to the shore. Also, tell Charon that from now on he's forbidden from listening to the Queen's orders."
You scoffed, crossing arms on your chest. "I'm just going to set Cerberus on him."
"Right," Sukuna growled, sending you a short, angry look. "And also chain the dog to his cave. This beast has forgotten who his real master is."
You could forgive him mistreating the poor souls and Charon, but a line had to be drawn regarding your beloved dog.
Your fingers grabbed his forearm, eyes bulging in worry. "Wait! Leave Cerberus out of this," Sukuna looked at your nails digging into his skin and a jittery gaze. "I'm sorry, okay? Just…" There was a thread linking you both – dangerously thin, leading to an emotion your relationship hasn't yet discovered. Forgiveness. "Please don't hurt him. It's my fault. Cerberus listens to everything I say, he's just a silly dog. So let him be. If there's someone who should be punished, it's me."
Sukuna didn't say anything for a while, staring at your pleading eyes with a furrowed brow. A storm of feelings coiled in his head, and you noticed his gaze soften slightly. He often acted like a brute, of course, but you believed that somewhere, deep, deep beneath his chest, there was still a man who placed the little birds that had fallen from the trees back in their nests.
"Fine," he finally muttered and oh, how shocked he was when you chuckled and wrapped yourself around his neck. For a moment, he sat frozen in place, but soon all four arms curled around you, as he inhaled the sweetness coating your skin.
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Uraume looked away to hide a little smile tugging on her lips, as it was a long, long time since she had seen the God of the Dead blushing like a virgin nymph.
Sukuna coughed, sending her a deadly gaze. "But I still believe that you and Cerberus could use some time away from each other. I'm tired of raising two brats at the same time," he mumbled, and you giggled into his neck.
"Well, my God, try to suggest it to him, and we'll see what happens," you pulled away, with hands still wrapped around his neck. "I'm afraid your beast found himself a new owner."
And so, since that evening, a little, hopeful grain started to bloom in Sukuna's heart.
As it seemed that his lovely Goddess had finally begun to warm to him. During the evening baths, you chirped into his ear like a fair birdie, sometimes even washing his muscular back and massaging his always-creased forehead.
At night, your body instinctively nuzzled into his. Legs wrapped around him tightly, hands curled around his arms, and a slightly wet cheek left a small puddle of saliva on his chest. He always beamed with warmth, and you, like a cat, used his body as a heater.
During the shared breakfast, you kept talking while he fed you the sweetest, juiciest fruits. What's more, your roles would shift, with your fingers occasionally placing a piece of orange onto his lips – sometimes upper, sometimes lower.
Whenever you stole a few apples for Cerberus, as he's tired of eating raw meat, he would only scoff and wave his hand. The beast has been living on meat and water for thousands of years, and yet, a few weeks after your appearance, he suddenly developed a lavish taste for fruits picked only by you.
On some afternoons, when Sukuna would nap under the pomegranate tree, you would creep to his side. Carefully place his head on your thighs and hum a lovely melody, just like you did back then in a forest. He would always try to stay as still as possible, just to prolong those precious moments – your fingers brushing through his hair and flowery fragrance coating his skin.
One special afternoon, your hum was interrupted by something else.
Something… alive.
The high trilling of crickets, soft chirping of birds and muffled croaks of the frogs, coming from the little pond Sukuna has built up for you.
Your fingers suddenly stopped in their tracks, and the God coughed quietly, wriggling under your touch. Like a dog, begging for more pats.
"How is it possible?" you asked, looking down at his "sleeping" face.
There was a minute of silence before he slowly, carefully opened his eyes and sighed heavily, meeting your solemn gaze. "The animals also need to enter Hades. Just on different rules," His eyes fell on something crawling up your hand. "Look there."
And to your surprise, you've noticed a grasshopper sitting serenely on your skin. It wasn't as lush and green as you remembered it to be, but misty, almost like a cloud, with only his foggy soul still crawling up your arm.
And then you've noticed birds sitting high up on the pomegranate tree, with their little wings looking like a shadow.
Something heavy formed in your throat and heart stirred with affection. "You brought them for me?"
Sukuna hummed, closing his eyes and gently placing your hand back on his head. "You can say that. Most of them were already here. I simply ordered to be bring them to our garden."
Your fingers started working through his hair again – scratching and massaging his head, till the beastly God stretched on your thighs like a cat and nuzzled into the softness of your belly.
You didn't push him away but rather giggled and whispered a sweet thank you. A little smile tugged on Sukuna's lips, and he purred softly my pleasure, Goddess.
And thus, for the first time in your life, you have felt free.
With Underworld's woeful air smooching your cheeks and shadowy animals following you around the withered plains.
You have never felt more alive than in the realm of the dead.
That's why when Sukuna called you into the main hall one day, your heart froze. With dread and fear, upon seeing your furious mother standing right next to him by the altar.
The altar, decorated with your small marble figures and fresh flowers, he ordered to be changed daily since no plant in the Underworld could survive longer than a day.
Your fingers curled in fists, lips fell in line, and somehow, even though you loved her dearly, you simply couldn't take a step closer.
Sukuna stood still, with four arms crossed on his chest and eyes looking carefully at your trembling body. As if he could read all the thoughts coiling beneath your furrowed brows.
"My darling, oh Gods," she sighed, crossing the distance between you two in a few steps. Before you knew it, she pulled you into a hug, although your arms hung loosely by your sides. "I thought I'd lost you forever. Can you believe that I needed to threaten Zeus himself to finally find you?"
She pulled away and grabbed your cheeks, only to meticulously ogle your face. "Oh my, you're so pale! This place did you no good, but at least you're fine. This brute…" she looked over her shoulder, glancing at Sukuna's stony face. "My heart almost stopped upon hearing that he was the one who kidnapped you. Did he touch you? Are you okay? Did he, you know, force you to–"
"Mom," you quickly interrupted her and wriggled yourself out of her embrace. "Why are you here?"
She looked dumbfounded – with warm eyes bulging in shock and lips slightly falling open. When you stepped back, her forehead creased.
"I came to take you back, of course."
A gentle sigh echoed through the vast temple hall as you glanced over her shoulder. Somewhere nearby, a man was attentively listening to you, with a heart pounding loudly in his throat. Filled with fear, anticipation, hope.
Sukuna rarely looked at you with that gaze – filled with love and dread, as if he understood that neither anyone else nor he himself was truly worthy of your heart. He scarcely ever seemed so weak and afraid, as if his mind, soul, heart were fully, completely wrapped around your finger.
And thus now, after so many of his threats, you could make a choice.
To stay here, with him, or go back to your mother.
"Let's go, darling, I'm getting nauseous just from being here," she tried to grab your hand, but, once again, you stepped away.
"I'm not going back," slipped in a whisper. "I can't go back."
She looked shocked, and her lips curved in a nervous smile. "What do you mean, you can't?"
"I'm bound to the Underworld."
Lie.
But oh, how good it felt in your heart, lifting the weight of all the mixed emotions you've buried over the past few days.
"Bound? What do you–" she started, and then, as if suddenly enlightened, gasped. A sharp cry escaped her throat, and her eyes looked back at Sukuna with a frightened, intense gaze. "You! You forced her to eat the seeds!"
Before she could step closer and smack his cheek with an open palm, you grabbed her. "No, mom. I did it myself."
She stopped, turning back your way. With disappointment filling her eyes and trembling lips. "You did what?"
"I love him."
And that, well, that was a confession no one expected. Not you, mother, and particularly not Sukuna. His breath hitched, eyes bulged, and he almost, almost took a step closer.
As his heart, mind, and soul were consumed by a desire to hold you and caress you yearningly until your lips swell from the sweetness of the kiss.
Your mother quickly interrupted, holding your cheeks. "You don't. Don't say it. You don't love him. He's a beast who manipulated your mind, love has no place here. Don't act foolishly, that's not how I raised you."
Your heart shuddered in wretchedness upon her words. As you knew how much she hated all the Gods. How hard she tried to keep this sweet, yet so foreign feeling away from you, as if the little seed growing in your heart was something shameful.
Crystal droplets trickled down your cheeks, wetting her pads. "But I do, mother. And I will stay here, with him. That's my home now."
There was no need to listen to her further. Sliding her trembling hands from your cheeks, you turned and quickly disappeared into the comforting darkness of a temple you used to hate that much.
Her low pleadings filled the main hall, but you could only ignore them. Seeing her again, after a whole month, brought dreadful memories of years spent in her golden cage.
You entered the chamber and sat down on a plush bed. Your hands still slightly wet from nervousness, eyes taking in the cosiness and warmth of the bedroom you shared with… him. Candles licked your skin sweetly, and moon lurked through misty curtains.
Even the usual shrieks coming from Tartarus were mild that evening, allowing you to enjoy the little crickets slipping from the garden.
Cerberus barked somewhere deep within your domain, and a smile tugged at the corners of your lips. You were on your way to give him his daily dose of apples when your mother suddenly appeared.
You sat on a bed, hunched and frozen, not noticing a massive shadow that swooshed closer. Dark robes appeared in front of your feet, and soon a heavy, musky fragrance followed.
"My Queen," Sukuna started, not quite sure what to say. A silence has fallen – pleasant, warm, homey. He sighed and crouched to meet your gaze. "Are you okay?"
Only then did he notice crystal droplets still dripping down your cheeks. "My Goddess, why are you crying?"
"Don't allow her to take me," slipped in a crying whisper, before a muffled choke followed. His big hands gripped yours, trying to stop the trembling. "Please, let me stay here."
His fingers lifted to gently cup your face. "What are you talking about? Of course, I won't let you go," crimson eyes softened as a large thumb brushed your lower lip. "Have you forgotten my words? You're never leaving my side."
"Never?"
He shook his head. "Never. I will stand against all of Olympus if that's the price of loving you."
Another sharp cry rolled from your lips as you nuzzled into his hand.
He changed your positions, sitting on the bed and letting you climb onto his thighs, only to push your crying face into his neck. Four hands embraced you before he began to cradle you like a baby.
With soft whispers and kisses placed on your forehead.
When the first shock rolled away and the tears finally stopped, you pulled back. With swollen lips and puffy cheeks, that made Sukuna's heart swell with fondness.
His tongue lapped up the last salty droplets before big palms cupped your hips. "You'll stay here, with me," plush lips peppered your cheeks, nose, and the slightly trembling chin. "And you'll let me love and worship you as you deserve," his hands rolled your hips against his, drawing a moan from your throat. "No one will take you away from me. Not now, not ever."
Your arms wrapped around his neck, back bent in a delicate arch. You looked at him with a plea, taking in the divine beauty of his beastly face. "What if Zeus himself comes for me?"
His lips were barely brushing against yours, and a woody, heavy smell of his body tickled your heart. "I'll kill him. My Goddess, you truly underestimate me. I will move heaven and earth to keep you by my side."
And then, with a last longing gaze connecting your starving souls, your lips have finally crashed.
In a slow, gentle, yet raw kiss, with his teeth biting down on your lower lip and throat swallowing all your sugary moans.
All four hands quickly found their way around your body – caressing, holding, gripping the swell of your ass and moving your hips in harsher rolls.
Misty robe hanging on your shoulders slipped down with a gentle tug, and soon his two upper hands lifted to cup your breasts.
The softness of your skin made Sukuna's mind spin, and a craving to sink himself into your warm cunt felt almost maddening. His cocks, still clothed by a dark tunic, brushed against your folds and the sweetest, purest moan rolled right into his lips.
"Feed me, my God," you murmured, pulling away slightly. "Feed me the pomegranate seeds and tie me to the Underworld. To you."
Of course, you lied to your mother.
And Sukuna knew it too. He observed you for a whole day and night, never leaving your giggles out of his sight, and thus he was aware of your little, desperate lie.
What he hoped for, however, was that your confession was sincere.
Tasting the sweetness of your lips, he realised how truly doomed he was – completely entangled with the scent of your skin and the beauty of your eyes. His heart skipped a beat when your fingers pulled his pink hair, causing his hips to buck instinctively, seeking the intense pleasure.
You pushed his chest, forcing his massive body to lie down on the mattress. "Feed me, and I shall let you have a taste too."
Your lips met his cheeks, jaw, and dropped down through the bulging throat and collarbones, while fingers slipped from the dark robes. He wore nothing beneath the long tunic, and soon your lips curled around his nipple, biting it softly with a hum.
Two upper arms swiftly pulled you up to his face, while the lower ones still held your bare hips. "What will you let me taste, my Goddess?"
A cheeky smirk tugged on your lips as you placed your leaking cunt right over his open belly mouth. "Your favourite fruit, my God."
With a loud moan, you lowered down onto its tongue, feeling the heavy muscles giving you a long, nasty lick. A shudder washed over your spine, and Sukuna drank the next cry that escaped your throat.
"You taste even better than I remembered, my Goddess," he groaned, feeling the saccharine droplets coat his lower tongue. Sticking to his teeth and inner cheeks like the sweetest honey. "But I have a much better idea."
And with that, you quickly found yourself facing his massive cocks and hovering over his face. Your puffy, drenched folds hang right above his lips, and he looked at your dripping cunt with a low groan.
"Fuck, my Goddess," two fingers parted your folds, only for a small, sticky droplet to drip down his chin. "You smell so fucking good, lower yourself a bit."
He didn't wait for your answer as two big hands pulled your hips down with a single, strong move. A groan slipped past his lips and went straight to your cunt, sending a wave of trembling pleasure straight to your clit.
"That's right, my sweet fucking Goddess," he mumbled, lips curving under the weight of your hips. "Don't be shy, get yourself comfortable."
"I-I'm not shy," and if not for a heat that slapped your cheeks, he maybe would believe you.
But your body was too honest, too inexperienced to hide the way your hips rolled against his tongue. Another pitched moan filled the foggy air when his tongue slipped inside your tight cunt.
His lower hands landed on your back and slowly, slowly bent you down. Till your wet lips met with two, pulsing heads and breasts hang right over the belly mouth.
Oh, he was right, this position was absolutely killing… both of you.
Because the moment big, beastly lips curled around your nipple, your hips buckled, and a sweet moan tickled both leaking heads.
"Nghhh," bounced sweetly off his veiny shafts. "That's–mhmm, my God, feels so good."
Sukuna chuckled, slurping on your swollen clit and pushing another cry from your chest. "Give them a little lick, my Queen. They've been waiting for you whole fucking month."
With a hazy gaze, you glanced at two fat cocks smooching your cheeks. Wet and massive, with droplets of musky precum oozing down the pulsing skin and a strong fragrance making you even wetter. He smelled so heavy, manly, and the moment you gave the first cock a kitty lick, Sukuna groaned straight into your clit.
Your hand grabbed the other one and started pumping it in slow, gentle moves, with your thumb brushing the reddened head. Belly mouth sucked on your breasts as if waiting for something more creamy to release itself onto his ravaging tongue, and you cried even louder whenever the wet tongue travelled between both of your nipples.
"How is it possible, fuck," Sukuna groaned, scooping a hefty gush of your cum and drinking it straight from your fluttering hole. "That you're so sweet everywhere. My beautiful, divine Goddess. Come on, try to suffocate me with your cunt. Put your whole weight into it."
With your cheek stuffed full of his cock, you pulled away with a nasty pop and looked over your shoulder. "My God, please take a deep breath," you reminded, because Sukuna seemed to be absolutely lost between your drenched thighs.
With a single finger thrusting into your tight hole and an open mouth catching all the dripping sap. His teeth grazed your clit, before a warm tongue kissed the pain away. He slurped like a madman, whispering little obscenities straight into your pussy and kissing her with nasty squelches. Gluey cum stuck to his nose, lips and chin, connecting him with your parted folds.
"I can't, I don't have to, she needs me," he groaned, giving you another heavy lick. With tongue covering the entirety of your cunt and finger pushing through your pulsing walls. "So sweet, my Goddess, you're so fucking delicious."
Oh, there was truly no remedy for him!
And thus you went back to his pulsing, almost bursting shafts. Your puffy lips kissed two heads before sucking on one gently. Fingers squeezed his constricting balls, juggling them softly and giving them a shy lick.
Sukuna trembled under your body, so you did it again, and again, and again, kissing, licking and sucking on his balls, while rolling your hips against his tongue.
"My God, are you okay?" you slipped shyly, although a cheekiness shimmered in your haze.
Sukuna pulled away from your cunt, and took a deep breath. "Don't ask me stupid questions, my Goddess. My patience is already hanging by a thread, so unless you want me to fold in half and fuck that cunt raw, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours."
You giggled, biting gently down on his balls. "I'll take that as a ye–ah!" you moaned, when the second finger slipped into your tight cunt. "My G-God, that's too–"
Too much wanted to roll, but Sukuna soon added the third . "You're so tight, my Goddess. I'm afraid both of them won't fit in," he slurped, feeling the desperate squeezes of your walls and juices trickling down his fingers.
Both?
An unsettling, truly frightening thought has crossed your mind. He could tear you apart with one, and using two seemed to be a completely foolish idea!
When his pads pushed something, slightly swollen and plush, your whole body shuddered. Pleasure washed over your spine, dripping down to curled feet, and a sugary moan wrapped around his leaking cock.
"There it is," Sukuna growled, looking at your raw, soaked pussy trying to mould itself around his fingers. "My Queen, you're doing so well. Squeezing my fingers so tight, I can't wait to feel you wrapped around my cocks."
The weird warmth has been coiling in your belly since his lips landed on your clit. But now, with fingers pushing your walls and pads brushing against the plump spot, something warmer, wetter started to plash inside your pouch. Something dangerously pleasurable and ready to burst beneath Sukuna's tongue and his big, stomach mouth sucking sweetly on your tits.
"My G-God, I–" you moaned, when all of his three fingers bent against the sweet spot and lips slurped on your clit. "I'm going to, mhmm, allow me to cum on your cocks, p-please."
And a single teary look over your shoulder, with hair sticking to your wet cheeks and lips fallen open, was enough to make him lose his mind.
"Whatever you wish, my Queen," he said, quickly pulling you away from his mouth.
Your body turned again, and this time you found yourself back on top, with two massive cocks squirming beneath your drooling folds and his lower hands gripping your thighs.
"You want me to…?"
He nodded, gently pulling your hips up, to help his leaking heads kiss your fluttering hole. "Ride me, my Queen. I want to watch you take it up…" his fingers traced the softness of your belly, before pushing on a spot somewhere just beneath your button. "here. Both of them."
Your pussy was ready to burst any second, and you could already feel something else, other than your normal wetness, drip down his cocks. The fog in your mind grew thicker, sweat coolly lined your neck, as you pressed both hands against his chest and leaned on trembling, feeble arms.
Rough thumb from the upper arm slipped between your folds, rolling gently the puffy clit. "Slowly, my Queen, take a deep breath." You did just that, with eyes looking straight into his. Both heads started forcing their way through your tight walls, gathering the slippery juices on the way. "That's it, that's my good girl, deep breaths."
He talked you through it, with thumb rubbing the sweet button and lower hands slowly, slowly, pulling you down his shafts.
A sharp cry rolled past your lips when both heads slipped inside. Pushing into your contracting walls and ripping you open, till the metallic taste of blood pooled somewhere at the back of your throat.
The water plopping inside your belly was filling you full, together with Sukuna's cocks constantly trying to thrust inside. You could feel every vein, every detailed curve of his shafts lick your gummy insides, as he pushed, and pushed, and took in the maddening beauty of your face, utterly lost in pleasure.
Your pussy squelched around his monstrous cocks. Cried sweetly, with a clit slowly getting much harsher rubs, till the swollen button started to tremble.
"My God, w-wait, something's wrong," you cried, trying to pull yourself off.
But Sukuna's lower hands kept you in place, and his hips bucked up, trying to meet yours. "Everything's good, my Queen. Deep breaths, you're doing so well."
"No, you don't get it, I–"
The heat hit your cheeks, walls clamped down half-thrust, and the alarmingly plopping water, finally, finally, spilt.
You came.
Or maybe, gushed.
With his cocks barely inside, a hefty wave rolled through your spine, spraying Sukuna's hands, belly, and chest with your cum. Your body trembled in pleasure, and he used this short moment of distraction to thrust his cocks fully, till your hips finally met his.
It was brutal, mean, absolutely filthy, with his lower mouth drinking your squirt and crimson eyes glimmering with maddening yearning.
Something in his mind snapped when he noticed a big bulge right under your belly button, and within a second, your position changed once again.
And this time, you knew that it was over.
He folded you in half, till your ass peeled off the drenched bed, and pussy glistened under his fiery gaze. All four arms kept you tightly in place, with lower limbs spreading your soaked thighs and upper ones taking something from the bedside table.
Only then have you noticed a crimson, bursting pomegranate, licked by the candle's warm tongues and dripping down Sukuna's forearm. He ripped it in half with a single, gentle move, before drinking the seeds with eyes never leaving yours.
"Deep breath, my Goddess," he said again, before both of his cocks rammed into your needy, stretched hole and lips crushed against yours. "Swallow it," he muttered into your reddened teeth, pushing all the pomegranate seeds straight into your mouth. "My little slutty Queen. Coming on my cocks when I barely thrusted in."
The fruit tasted sweeter than honey itself and mixed with Sukuna's sweet spin. His tongue trailed against yours, before lips moved towards your cheeks, chin, jaw, leaving all over your face a sweet, bloody trace of the fruit.
The power that tied your body, heart and soul to the God who wished for nothing but to love you like a madman and worship every piece of your skin.
His thrusts became more erratic, brutal, with squelches filling the wet, foggy air and his heavy, massive body leaning on your folded legs. His hips met yours with each roll, and whenever he pulled away, a long, sticky strand stretched between his soaked shafts and your sensitive cunt.
"Open up, my Queen," he growled, digging his fingers into your jaw. "Show me how well you swallowed it all."
Your lips fell open, and a string of drool trickled down his fingers. Big thumb pushed on your reddened tongue, and you sucked it sweetly, with eyes crossing in pleasure.
The long, fat tongue of his lower mouth slid out and gave your clit a long, filthy lick, before its lips sucked on it raw. Irritating the sensitive button and slurping on the last droplets of your squirt. Sukuna groaned, feeling your walls clamping around his cocks and pushed harsher, as if trying to fight the merciless squeeze.
"Fuck, my Goddess, let me–ahh–let get to your womb," he groaned, giving you a single, brutal thrust. You cried around his thumb, but he simply shushed you sweetly. "Don't cry, it's alright. Ngh, squeezing me so fucking hard," he leaned over, licking off the salty droplets.
His hips moved with unbelievably violent motion, rocking your bed against the wall and drawing a loud cry from your throat. Two pulsing heads kissed your womb with squelches till it swelled like a juicy peach and bent under his heartless thrusts.
A familiar warmth once again started to pool in your belly. Your arms curled behind Sukuna's neck, pulling him into another, filthy kiss. "My God, I'm g-gonna… soon… mhmm so good, s-so–ahh!"
He chuckled against your lips, but couldn't ignore the lovely tenderness filling your teary eyes. His heart jumped, and lower hands folded you into an even meaner mating press. Till you could barely breathe under his massive body, squeezing you down.
"Say it," he whispered, letting his cocks rip you raw. "Say it again."
Two fat shafts slipped in and out, smooching every little corner of your tired, swollen cunt. The pleasure filled you from head to toe, overflowing your body in electrifying strokes.
You knew what he wanted to hear. But his thrusts made a mushy mess out of your mind and eyes rolled back each time his hand pushed the bulge forming under your belly. Not even pregnancy could get you that bloated.
When your head lulled to the side, his fingers dug into your cheeks again, forcing you to look into his eyes. "Say it, my Goddess," he said, licking the last red traces of pomegranate juice from the corner of your lips. "I beg you."
"I love you," slipped like a dream. "I–I, mhmm, I love you. My God, I–"
His lips joined yours in a yearning, maddened kiss. "Fuck, my sweet Goddess. I love you so much, so fucking–fuck."
The warmth in your belly spilt again, and watery cum flooded his abdomen. The belly mouth sucked itself onto your clit, drinking each and every bead of your sweet nectar.
A second later, his hips finally stilled. Pulsing heads nuzzled into your womb, filling it with heavy, gluey cum. He pumped you full, with maddened pleasure creasing his forehead and knees digging into the mattress. Everything, just to get as close to you as possible.
His hefty cum filled your belly before bursting outside and buttering your folds.
"My God, at this point, mhmm, you'll knock me up," a sweet, tired giggle slipped past your lips, feeling his seed overflowing your poor womb. "Although I truly wouldn't mind."
He sighed, nuzzling warmly into the crook of your neck. The plushiness of your skin still made his mind spin, and the flowery fragrance haunted him like a spirit. "My Goddess, don't play with fire."
Your fingers brushed through his hair, pulling a low hum from his massive chest. "I'm not afraid to get burned," you said with full seriousness.
But God didn't answer. Just cuddled closer to your body – plush breasts, soft neck, and hair tickling his nose. He reminded you of Cerberus whenever the beast tried to cuddle into your side.
And with the same love and fondness, you kissed his temple, whispering simple yet oh so important, I'm yours, forever.
Forever it truly was for you, as no other couple on Olympus would ever conquer the utter devotion and love of the Goddess of Spring and the Lord of the Underworld.
Such contrary characters and yet relishing themselves in the most maddening obsession the Olympus has ever seen.
Oh god, I'm tired but so, so happy. I think it's pretty good, but please let me know your thoughts in the comments <3 Pray forgive me for any mistakes, the wizard was proofreading it at 11 p.m.
apocalypse - prologue
undergroundboxer!kuna x reader [soulmate au]
series masterlist
∞︎︎
you had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either a felon or a cold-blooded murderer.
you were leaning more towards the latter.
there were only so many times you could wake up with sore ribs and aching knuckles before starting to consider homicide as a genuine career path for your soulmate.
you were sixteen years old when you began feeling what he felt and he rarely felt happiness.
at sixteen, you remembered clinging onto hope, faith that things would change for the better.
at nineteen, you tried denial. optimism even. maybe he just had niche hobbies?
now, at twenty-two, exhausted and running on three hours of sleep and an unhealthy dependence on caffeine, you had finally settled on acceptance.
your soulmate was batshit crazy, absolutely insane.
the realization came to you somewhere between waking up at three in the morning because someone was being beaten up and nearly throwing up on the marble floors of your bathroom after feeling a wave of adrenaline so violent, it couldn’t possibly belong to a sane person.
you blamed him for the dark circles under your eyes, as well as the chronic irritability, insomnia and the emotional damage too.
“hey sunshine!”
you glanced up from your kitchen island to see shoko freely walking into your apartment as if it was her own. which, considering the amount of time she spent there, perhaps it was.
“you look awful.” utahime voiced from beside her as she walked towards your fridge, pulling out a bottle of coconut water, “devils dick wouldn't let you sleep again?”
you stared blankly out at the city skyline stretching beyond the floor to ceiling windows, morning fog curled between skyscrapers while the city below came to life beneath streaks of pale sunlight, almost pink.
“yes,” you replied bluntly, taking a sip of the black coffee in hand, “unless i’m the one suddenly developing anger issues and an overwhelming desire to commit aggravated assault.”
shoko snorted into her matcha at your words, though a thin layer of concern blanketed her eyes as she watched you.
you felt it before you saw him, the soft fur brushing against your ankles as you looked down at the familiar tuft of brown, “hi, ani.”
the cat purred against you lowly, circling your feet once before making his way towards the porcelain bowl filled with his breakfast.
it was a bit sad how your cat was your one companion in the vast penthouse you resided in. technically, the house belonged to your parents who were overseas so often, it was entirely in your possession alongside an absurd monthly allowance and very little supervision.
most people your age would’ve killed for this kind of freedom.
a luxury apartment in the middle of the city, prestigious university and a future already carved out neatly in front of you.
from an outside perspective, your life was perfect.
except for the stain beneath the surface of everything. him.
a constant you despised, yet he was all too impossible to ignore.
most soulmates exchanged softness through their bond. love, warmth and peace.
you exchanged pain, phantom bruises and what you were fairly certain was unresolved psychological trauma.
“how bad was it?” shoko questioned as she sat on the stool by the island.
you considered the question for a moment.
truly, last night wasn’t his worst night but it wasn’t his best either.
“my left thigh kinda hurts.”
“ooh,” she winced, “that’s new.”
“yup. he’s branching out,” you brought your cup up to your lips, “lucky me.”
the soulmate bond manifested differently for everyone, but emotional and physical sensations were universal. tiny things passed between soulmates all the time, including stress, exhaustion, happiness and lust.
utahime once told you soulmates were a blessing.
you’d nearly laughed in her face. did she know what a blessing was?
“maybe he’s in jail.’ shoko offered lazily as utahime immediately shot her a look.
you looked up at the girl. jail?
you almost hoped he was, that way the chances of meeting the son of a bitch were practically down to zero. you didn't want anything to do with the sadistic motherfucker.
your friends found your situation significantly sadder than you did, mostly because all of them had experienced their bond the way it was intended.
warm, soft and disgustingly tender.
utahime met sora during your graduation trip to greece. it was in the middle of a beach club and you distinctly recalled the way utahime went all quiet, the way they couldn’t look away from each other despite utahime always swearing that fate had handcrafted him specifically to irritate her.
you don’t remember how they progressed, only that they did. more than you could even imagine.
shoko met percy during your welcome week in freshman year, all anxious minds and bright eyes. you remembered the way shoko used to continuously rub the bridge of her nose because she claimed her soulmate wore the heaviest glasses on earth. then there he was. tousled hair, thick-rimmed glasses and all.
they’ve been inseparable ever since.
sometimes, you felt like the worst person alive because you resented them, just a little bit.
not because they were happy, but because they got softness where you got violence.
if you closed your eyes, just for a moment, you could recall exactly when you'd first felt him.
while walking through the school hall in first year, the most overwhelming sense of fear overcame you. real and true terror, practically paralyzing you in place. dread that was raw and sharp, crashing into your ribs hard enough to steal the air right from your lungs.
then came the pain, something you’d grow all too familiar with.
pain that only got worse with age.
you found yourself continuously trying to make sense of the colossal question mark that was your soulmate. who was he? what was he so afraid of? why was he in constant pain?
still, you learned the rhythm of him.
it was embarrassing, honestly. you knew things about your soulmate that no stranger should know.
you knew he preferred sleeping on his back because his shoulders were always too bruised to lie on comfortably. you knew he clenched his jaw till his molars hurt when he was furious. you knew he rarely slept through the night and how he carried exhaustion like it was stitched into his bones.
and worst of all, you knew exactly what his anger felt like and it was ugly. not explosive or wild in a dramatic sense but controlled.
it sat low in your stomach like a rock, dangerous and waiting.
sometimes, in the middle of lectures, your chest would suddenly tighten for absolutely no reason and you’d know instantly.
those were the worst days and they happened more often than you’d like.
your body would grow tense hours before it even happened, as if it already knew what was coming. your pulse would spike and adrenaline would drip into your bloodstream until your own fingers twitch with restlessness.
then came the impact. a burst of pain and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth that you could never see.
panic used to fill you at the sensation and now, you’d barely flinch.
“again?” utahime would whisper from beside you during your labs.
you’d simply nod.
apparently, your soulmate enjoyed fist fighting at eight in the fucking monring. truthfully, you didn’t know what scared you more. the violence itself or how used to it you’ve become.
because despite everything, the resentment sitting bitter on your tongue every time he dragged you into another sleepless night, you still found yourself searching for him constantly.
in crowds, trains and crossing busy streets. but you never felt his presence around, so you knew they were futile attempts.
you hated that too. the way your body longed for someone your mind already decided was a monster. the devil reincarnated.
sometimes, late at night, when the city outside your windows finally quieted down and the skyline blurred into soft hues of orange and pink, you’d feel him lying awake.
always restless and consistently pained.
there was something deeply unsettling about sharing insomnia with a stranger.
you’d feel him shifting endlessly beneath bedsheets, the tension in his shoulders and agitation under his skin. occasionally, the dull ache of old bruises blooming across muscle.
those nights left you exhausted and you always tried to ignore it at first, but one night, half-asleep and irritated beyond relief, you wrapped your arms around yourself beneath your comforter with a frustrated little sigh. a weak attempt to offer him a semblance of comfort.
go the fuck to sleep.
the effect was so immediate, it had your heart growing erratic.
you felt him still, completely and truly. a calm settled over your chest like a balm on wound.
after that, it became routine.
you’d discovered a hack of some sort.
to get through to him, you have to act as if you are him.
you’d taken up yoga with hime because it seemed to ease his sore muscles.
some nights, you’d feel him spiraling so violently with anger so strong, it crawled beneath your own skin. on those nights, you’d sit on your balcony overlooking the starry night enveloping the skyline in a deep blue. a case of markers in hand along with an adults coloring book. one of those complex ones with multiple minuscule shapes.
and color, you did. because it seemed to soothe him.
you knew it because you could feel it happen in real time.
the slow loosening of tension beneath skin and the steadying of his heartbeat. then the exhaustion would finally pull him under.
it felt strangely intimate.
though it started selfishly because you wanted the rest, you soon began doing it for him.
sometimes, you wondered if he knew it was you.
if he realized that the sudden calmness swallowing him whole at three in the morning belonged to somebody else.
if he knew his soulmate sat forty floors above the city in pretty pink pyjamas and color stained hands trying to soothe a rage she didn’t understand.
the thought made your chest ache because you knew he knew.
despite how badly fate had screwed you over, he was still yours.
and somehow, horrifyingly, you were still his.
despite it all, he still felt so unbearably human.
most nights were spent peacefully from that day on, for the most part.
you could tolerate him now but there were still quieter nights where he couldn’t sleep.
the bond grew restless during those hours, tension humming beneath your skin like static. you’d feel him, his exhaustion weighing heavy in your own bones despite the fact that you’d done absolutely nothing all day besides write up your report.
“he’s awake…” you mumbled one night, shoko glancing up from where she sat on the couch in your room, typing up her essay on her laptop despite the deadline being three hours ago.
“again?” shoko huffed, “does this guy not sleep?”
you simply hummed once because sometimes he does. when you help him sleep.
it was all too intimate in the worst way possible.
at times, you felt like he lived beneath your skin more than inside his own body.
when you wrapped your arms around yourself, mumbling a go to sleep, somewhere across the city, your soulmate listened.
one emotion you both felt was the soul-tying loneliness.
you understood loneliness, grown up and made friends with it.
it seems he did as well. he dealt with his in a different way than you did yours, though.
it happened late one night when you were halfway through your night routine.
at first, it was subtle, a warmth against your lips.
your movements slowed instantly, fingers hovering near your face as confusion knitted your brows together. what the fuck?
then came another sensation, this time featherlight touches across your jaw.
your stomach dropped because what followed was the most excruciating pain you’d ever felt, exploding through your body so suddenly, your serum bottle slipped from your hands and shattered across the bathroom floor.
and you collapsed with it.
a gasp tore from your throat as agony spread violently beneath your skin, hot enough to make your vision blur. it felt all wrong, burning and suffocating.
you knew exactly what was happening.
he was touching someone else.
you remembered shoko mentioning it once after utahime drunkenly asked too many questions about soulmate bonds during freshman year.
physical intimacy with someone who wasn't your soulmate caused backlash through the bond.
“apparently, it feels awful,” shoko stated, “super painful.”
awful? that fucking liar.
this wasn’t just awful. you felt like you were burning.
you curled against the cold marble tiles, arms wrapped tightly around your stomach as another wave of pain hit hard enough to drag a broken sound from your throat. it felt like being split apart from the inside out as tears blurred your vision.
“stop…” you whispered shakily, though you didn’t know who you were talking to anymore.
him? fate?
the pain built as you continued to feel touches that weren’t yours, warm skin that wasn’t yours.
someone else’s hands against him.
it made you sick.
humiliation mixed violently with heartbreak until you could barely breath through it, till you sobbed against yours hands.
messy and continuous tears soaked your sleeves as you sat on the bathroom floor, fury and devastation clawing through you so violently, you didn’t knwo what to do.
“i hate you!” you choked out as your lungs burned.
you felt the sudden stillness instantly, followed by a hollow feeling in your gut.
it hit your ribs so unexpectedly, your chest caught.
guilt. real guilt.
your expression twisted immediately. that sick son of a bitch.
that only angered you more.
you dug your nails into your palms hard enough to break skin and pain shot through you then, wanting him to feel it, to hurt the way he always made you hurt.
you slammed your first against the tile once, twice then again as your knuckles split open eventually but you barely noticed.
then suddenly…warmth.
you went still, breathing shaking unevenly as the sensation wrapped around you in an unfamiliar fashion.
it was a pair of arms, strong as they held you.
your breathing stuttered as you processed what was happening.
was he…hugging himself? like how you would?
he was holding himself because he didn’t know how else to reach you, to console you.
your anger cracked slightly at the edges because for the first time in years, he felt close. not in his usual worrying or irritating way.
and no matter how much you hated yourself for it, you leaned into it.
because after all, you were just as lonely as he seemed to be.
after that day, even following his piteous attempt at comfort, you were vengeful.
gone were the nights you’d hold yourself, him, to sleep. gone were the late night drawings or the yoga classes, the massages for his sore muscles and the relaxing teas.
gone was your gentleness along with any semblance of hope you had clung onto like snow on mountains.
you fucking hated fate.
∞
“maybe he’s dead.” shoko offered as you glanced up at her from the blaring screen of your laptop, illuminating your face in the darkness.
utahime shot her a look as you sighed gently.
you weren’t sure if her words were meant to console you but you weren’t sure they did.
you hated him, yes, but did you want him dead?
the thought sent a pang up your chest. no, you didn’t.
because you hadn’t even met him yet.
where all your friends had already fulfilled their bonds, you were left pondering the possibility of fate playing a sick trick on you,
“i mean, with all the fights he gets into, i wouldn’t be surprised.” shoko continued, her words trailing off as she caught utahime’s glare.
you shook your head once, ignoring the tightness beneath your ribs, “if he was dead, who the fuck am i feeling every day?”
shoko hummed once, as if pondering the thought, “maybe he’s in hell!”
now, that seemed probable.
rain tapped gently against the windows while blond played softly in the background as you returned your attention back to the half-finished page in front of you.
it was oddly peaceful in a way you weren’t used to. which meant he was either asleep or unconscious.
honestly, both possibilities reassured you equally so.
“you need to leave your castle, princess.” utahime smiled mockingly from her place on your carpeted floor as you rolled your eyes gently, fingers pausing atop your keyboard.
“why?” you muttered, thumb absentmindedly rubbing soft circles against your wrist.
“um, because of human interaction?” shoko dropped onto your bed, arms and legs starfished across the plush white sheets atop your king sized bed.
you rolled your eyes once more, “and you guys are…?”
both girls grumbled at your response making you smile softly, looking back down at your laptop as ani purred from his place curled at your feet.
you did leave your home! how else would you shop? or attend your lectures? or get your sixth coffee of the day?
“there’s a party downtown tonight.” shoko grinned at you genty, practically soft-launching the idea as you scoffed once.
“ew.”
“don’t say ew with that stupid face like you’re old!”
“m’not old,” you shrugged, “i’d just rather do anything else.”
shoko huffed, sitting up on your bed before walking towards your place on the couch, "you always do anything else! you’ve been so down recently, just let us help!”
you almost wanted to laugh. a party wouldn’t help by any means.
instead, you swallowed quietly, looking back down at your laptop.
he had been strangely distant lately, ever the rage-filled psychopath, but quieter somehow. you didn’t know if you liked it or not.
“c’mon,” utahime pleaded, “just one night!”
before you could answer, you felt it again.
a rush of adrenaline flooding your veins so suddenly, your jaw clenched.
the room went quiet as utahime’s expression shifted, “devils dick?”
you sighed inwardly, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.
it was a familiar feeling, hot and electric and so fucking alive beneath your skin. you didn’t want to wait for the pain to follow.
“okay.”
the girls exchanged a look.
“okay?!” shoko exclaimed with a grin as you sighed gently.
“that’s what i said.”
her squeals were met with silence as you tried to calm your-his-breathing.
there was this weird feeling in your gut, deep and carved in stone, like tonight was significant.
it felt almost damning.
∞
an - just a little glimpse into this worlddd! no kuna in this yet so :( but u guys will meet him ch1 !! also this is prob gonna be a shorter seriessss like 6-8 parts!
anyways lmk what u guys thinkkkk and if u want more of this au!
also wanna say i read a fic like 7ish yrs ago on here from @/stuckonspidey, i dont think they're on here anymore but they had a soulmate fic that inspired this that i wrote a while ago sooo credits to themmm i remember loving that fic smmmm! :)
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