a bouquet of brambles | ryomen sukuna
pairing: god!sukuna x priestess!reader (+ a hint of god!gojo x reader)
summary: greek myth au. being sukuna's priestess is all you've known, and you've spent a lifetime alone in his temple, devoting yourself solely to him and his needs.
when a different god appears at your door one day with promises of more than a life in the darkness, both you and sukuna find yourselves in uncharted territory
word count: 10.7k
content: 18+ mdni, greek myth au, smut, dubcon/noncon elements due to power imbalance, loneliness, rejection, devotion, abuse, worship, violence, mean!sukuna, piv, attempted cucking, fingering, biting, rough sex, hurt/comfort, sukuna is bad with feelings and satoru is a little shit
a/n: in honour of this blog's one year anniversary I wanted to pay homage to one of the first fics I wrote on here: this blindness I'm condemned to! so here's another god!sukuna fic with a florence and the machine title hehe
also i want to give a big shoutout to @liahcharms for reigniting my passion for myth fics with all her brilliant works! please go and read everything she's written asap
Sukuna always smelt of blood, drenched in that metallic scent that would infest your nostrils, sticking around long after he’d departed your side. He’d always appear in the dead of night, whenever the temple would fall silent, looking more like a beast than a god. He’d take up the whole doorway with his mighty stature, four arms hanging loose at his side, his twisted face laden with mania.
It was you that he’d come to see - his sweet, devoted priestess. He’d waste no time with niceties, for you both knew what it was that he wanted, appearing before you to ensure that you honored your oath of service in whichever manner he deemed appropriate.
Things always played out the same way, with his crimson soaked hands wrapped firmly around your slender neck, sharp fingernails drawing blood while his fingers left pretty little bruises against your skin. He’d grunt as he bent you over his altar, guttural sounds of pleasure leaving his lips as he pressed his mouth against your ear.
You’d sob and shake beneath him, hands raking desperately against the marble beneath you, tears dripping down your cheeks as you let him sink deeper into you than you’d ever allowed any man to go.
He’d give you a taste of divinity, of real purpose. He was your god and you served him well, offering yourself fully for his own pleasure and entertainment, and he ate it up every time, filling you up with his seed and leaving you there once he was satisfied, with no regard for your own gratification.
And there you’d remain in the oppressive silence, shivering at the foot of your shrine to him, awaiting his next visit with rapt enthusiasm. That was your role in this world, your only genuine purpose - you were to give yourself to him and in the times between you were to yearn for his return.
You were to tend to his temple, greet his worshippers, and provide him with offerings. You were to sleep on the cold marble every night just in case he required your services, you were to have no family, lay with no man, for you were his in every sense of the word.
Even if he would never be yours.
Maintaining your oath had never caused you much trouble, for it was the only life you’d grown to know. You had been raised to be a priestess, had tended to the temple since you were eighteen - Sukuna, and your devotion to him, was the only thing that existed in your narrow worldview.
That was how it was supposed to always be.
Until one morning a different deity appeared at your door.
It was a pleasant spring day, and the forest beyond the temple’s walls was brushed with rays of gold, so filled with life in stark contrast to the confines of your shrine. It was always cold in there, tainted with the vague scent of blood and death that followed Sukuna wherever he went.
Even though you had never seen another of his temples, nor met another of his priestesses, you were certain that the uneasy darkness lingered in any place where he was worshipped.
And yet, that darkness, which usually extended to your patch of woodland, seemed woefully absent on that temperate morning. On the contrary, the forest seemed more alive than you’d ever seen it, teeming with colour and life - a beauty that felt utterly foreign to your eyes.
The cause of the change appeared without warning, manifesting between the trees, blue eyes alight with mischief as he strolled towards your humble temple. He had an otherworldly glow about him, a power akin to that of your own god, but rather different in nature. The air around him felt light and airy, like his mere presence could strip away any sense of despair.
You didn’t know him. You didn’t know any god but your own. You weren’t supposed to.
Nervously, you’d flinched back, stepping over the threshold back into your temple, peering past the open doors at the figure who came to a halt on your doorstep, a pleasant smile lighting up his handsome face.
“Good morning,” he hummed, his tone chipper. “I hadn’t expected to find any humans out here - especially not a beautiful woman.”
“Are- are you here to make an offering?” You asked, struggling to find your voice. You’d found yourself captivated by his ethereal beauty, your eyes skimming over his toned body and the beautiful white toga that adorned it. There was nothing monstrous about him like your own master, he was gorgeous in the most conventional of ways.
“An offering? To him?” The god snorted as he gestured to the carvings littering the outer walls of the temple. “Absoultely not.”
Fear fluttered in your heart as you took yet another step back into the comfortable darkness of your home. It felt like Sukuna was draping himself over you, keeping you safe from the stranger before you. For him to so casually put down your god was the gravest insult in this setting, and you wondered if Sukuna might strike him down where he stood.
Perhaps he’d strike you down too, for even allowing yourself to bear witness to such heresy.
“I don’t think you should be here.” You tried to sound as confident as you could, to turn this god away before he could cause any issue. You didn’t want any trouble, didn’t want to find yourself breaking any of Sukuna’s rules.
“You don’t need to sound so afraid, I mean you no harm.” He took another step forward, his toes brushing against the threshold, peering into the darkness at you. “Come and step into the light, so that we can talk properly.”
Even though you knew it was wrong, you found your legs obeying his command. There was something about the way that he spoke which commanded the same authority that Sukuna did, filling you with a terrifying desire to do as you were told no matter what your brain truly wanted. This god didn’t wield his authority with the darkness that your own master did, but the underlying implication was still there.
He would have what he wished, and would employ any method to get it.
Your legs carried you back outside, eyes wide as you observed the man before you. His blue eyes dragged over your form and you caught the way that they seemed to light up with glee. “You’re a gorgeous creature, aren’t you? Typical of Sukuna to keep such secrets to himself. What do you call yourself?”
You told him meekly, averting your gaze down to the floor. Now that you were standing before him you found your heart racing unfathomably quick, oddly taken by his immense beauty. You’d allowed your mind to wander, to wonder what it would be like to have his delicate hands hold you.
It was a thought that you were quick to chase away, for fear that Sukuna could hear every one of your deepest desires and punish you for the slightest deviation away from him.
“How lovely. You can call me Satoru.” The name meant nothing to you. You’d been raised largely in isolation, taught by your parents your role at the temple and abandoned to silence at eighteen. If Satoru was some well-known god, it meant nothing to you.
He didn’t seem offended by your lack of knowledge. Perhaps he’d expected it.
“Are you out here all alone?”
You were, the people in the closest town would bring supplies to you once a fortnight, and beyond that you were left purely to your own devices. It probably wasn’t wise to tell a strange man such a thing, but you got the sense that he’d know if you were lying.
“I am.”
“Oh, how I abhor the cruelty of your master, always keeping his poor worshippers in the worst of conditions. If you were my priestess you’d get to live in the most lavish quarters in some lovely city, surrounded by like-minded folk. No woman should have to linger alone in some dark forest.”
“It suits me here,” you whispered. “I’ve always been here.”
Satoru scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. “Then you simply don’t know any better than what your master has taught you.”
You were certain that you didn’t need to know. With Sukuna the rules for your life were clear, what more could there be? It was an honor to serve him in the way that you did, it was what you were made for. You didn't need pity from some stranger.
“Look at you, all confused by my words.” A hand reached out for you, your body shaking as a finger tapped the centre of your furrowed brow before withdrawing. “You can’t even begin to comprehend the unfairness of your life.”
“It's not unfair,” you bit back, quietly. You mostly believed your words, but you’d be lying if you were wholly satisfied. You had no qualms about living in this place, or about serving your lord, but in the times between Sukuna’s visits you were hollow, desperate for him, caught up in wondering what he was doing, wondering how many other priestesses he treated just like you.
You wanted him to be yours just as you were his, wanted his devotion to you.
An impossible ask.
“It is, but you can’t allow yourself to see it,” he said with a sigh, fingers dragging through his soft white hair. “You’re a great prize of his, you know. One of his favourites. He always likes to brag about your beauty but never wishes to share - he isn’t a man who likes others playing with what belongs to him, even when he has so much.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, not sure what to make of that. You wanted to be flattered but your joy was unraveled by the use of the phrase ‘one of his favourites’. For now he treasured you, saw you as something valuable amongst all he had. One day you’d slide down that list, once your looks started to fail you.
“I’m here because I had to gaze upon the one that even a monster would desire so deeply.” Your eyes widened in surprise, studying the look on his face. You could sense no trace of dishonesty, his expression open and welcoming, his thoughts written across his face.
The complete opposite to Sukuna’s perpetually guarded frown.
“You were certainly worth the journey,” he continued, when you offered him nothing but silence. You should’ve told him to stop when he reached for you once more, but you remained frozen, completely dumbfounded as his hand traced along your soft cheek. It was a caress gentler than any that Sukuna had given you.
“You shouldn’t be doing this,” you murmured, terrified of what the consequences for his actions would be. You were surprised to find that you didn’t want him to stop, your heart battering against your ribcage at being shown such careful attention for once in your lonely life.
It was a dangerous feeling.
“I would provide you so much more than he ever could,” he whispered, leaning forward. “I’d give you a place in the light, a place at my side. Beauty like yours doesn’t deserve to be hidden away, it should be celebrated.”
Your breath hitched as he closed the gap between you. His nose brushed against yours, lips inching closer, and for a second you almost gave in, almost allowed temptation to win out over the oath that you’d bound yourself to. But you had lived a life of discipline, and when you pushed him back with all of your strength, it was your body acting on instinct.
Kissing him wasn’t right. It would be a betrayal of everything that you lived for. Besides, your parents had warned you about schemes of other gods, warning that if you were to ever encounter one, you would find that they took great enjoyment in playing with humans.
That was what this was. This man didn’t know you, didn’t care for you. You could feel the dislike for your master rolling off him in waves. He was here to humiliate his opponent, to claim something of his.
You would be no pawn in his game.
“I wish for you to leave,” you said as firmly as you could, your heart still fluttering in your chest. “My master would not want you here."
There was a flicker of hurt in Satoru’s eyes, but he dropped his hands to his sides all the same, stepping back with a somber nod. “He wouldn’t, you’re right. But you should not wish to be here either, for you deserve more than the darkness he shrouds you in.”
“It- it is what I have chosen.”
“It is what has been forced upon you,” he countered, offering you a sad smile. “But when you one day choose to free yourself of it, I will be waiting.”
And just like that, Satoru disappeared, taking the brilliant light of the morning away with him. For some reason you felt cold, an empty emotion not unlike that which would plague you whenever Sukuna would leave you broken and naked on the temple floor. It had been nice to talk to someone, nice to feel the sun on your skin.
Even if it was all just trickery from some malicious man hellbent on separating you from your duty.
It was a week after that encounter that Sukuna darkened your door again, in the manner he always would.
Your encounter went much as usual, speaking no words of greeting as he approached, his hands tearing at your clothes, fingers holding you with a bruising grip as he took you beneath him. He was as rough as ever and you enjoyed it all the same, soft whimpers echoing around the temple as you chanted his name like a prayer.
But when he was done, he didn’t leave in silence as he usually would. Instead, he drew himself up to his full height, towering over your frail body which he’d discarded so carelessly on the cold floor. His red eyes were fixed on you with an unusual intensity, two of his hands resting on his hips while the other two crossed firmly over his chest.
“You had a visitor this week. Didn’t you?” The question came out as a deep rumble, sending fear coursing through your vulnerable form.
“Yes.” You kept your eyes down. You weren’t supposed to look up at him without his permission, he was too divine for your eyes to gaze upon openly.
“And what did you think of him, this visitor?”
You weren’t quite sure what to say. If you were to tell him the truth, to suggest that you found Satoru captivating in any way, you feared the punishment that may follow. On the other hand, if you tried lying only for him to realise that you were attempting to deceive him, that could land you in even deeper trouble.
The last thing you wanted was to disappoint him.
“He was…strange. He was like you but not.” You chose your words carefully, omitting your feelings on the matter.
Sukuna let out an amused huff. “There is no one like me, little priestess. But to your untrained eye I can understand what you’re trying to say - he held a power beyond your comprehension, and by extension you find us to be similar.”
Disagreeing with him would be foolish so you simply nodded in agreement, your gaze still trained upon the ground, even as you heard him shifting before you. He crouched, one of his lower hands pressing against your chin and raising your face to look at him.
“What of your opinion on him? Did you enjoy his visit? Do you yearn for him to return with all his foolish light and greenery?”
“No.” The lie slipped out before you could stop it, before you had the chance to truly consider your answer.
He blinked, a slow grin spreading across his tanned face, his canines pointed and sharp, still dripping with blood he’d withdrawn from your neck minutes prior. “No? Such a well trained little thing,” he hummed, a hand coming down to your hair and stroking it with something akin to affection, like an owner praising their pet. “Though, I thought you’d know better than to lie to me.”
The grip in your hair tightened, strands pulling at your scalp. A soft yelp left your lips, eyes welling with tears, your gaze still fixed on him as he’d commanded.
“I can hear your heart fluttering, your blood rushing through those delicate veins of yours. I think you wish to see him again, perhaps you yearn for him to visit you in the way I do.”
You shook your head as best as you could while still confined within his firm grip. Even if you were curious about your visitor, infatuated by the light which he seemed to bathe himself in, you had no desire for his visits to be even remotely similar to Sukuna’s. The humiliation of being taken and abandoned by one god was enough, your heart would not cope with a second.
“I’m loyal to you, master. Only to you.”
There was a soft tremble to your voice, your skin prickling with fear. The look on Sukuna’s face was manic, like it always was when he’d fuck you, or when he’d dump a corpse on the temple’s doorstep. There was an electricity to him that told you he had little tolerance where Satoru was concerned, and as his hand twisted in your hair, you felt certain he’d tear your head from your shoulders.
“Is that so?” He asked, his booming voice echoing around the temple. For a moment, a look which seemed almost conflicted flickered in his red eyes, but it was gone before you could truly verify its existence, replaced by his usual hardened gaze.
“Yes. I take joy in nothing but serving you.”
You were starting to grow cold, the chill of the temple’s marble seeping into your exposed skin. He’d seen you in this state time and time again, but to kneel naked before him and talk was different to being fucked by him, it felt too vulnerable, building an urge within you to cover yourself from his gaze.
Fortunately, your mind stopped you from attempting to draw your arms across your breasts. You were his property and he could gaze upon you as he pleased, you had no right to obscure what had always been his.
Releasing his grip on your hair, he let you crumple down before him. He then brushed the strands tenderly over your bare shoulders, gentle enough for you to mistake it for the touch of a lover. The coolness of his tone dispelled any such illusion as he whispered in your ear.
“Make sure to remember it. Lie to me again or find comfort in that fool, and I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your pathetic little life.”
And just like that, he was gone, the warmth of his breath still hot against your ear, your stomach churning with guilt beneath the weight of his bitter disappointment.
Satoru visited again the following day.
He was already waiting for you outside as you threw open the doors to the temple at dawn, leaning against a tree, skin glistening beneath the sun’s gorgeous rays. Doves were flittering around him, whistling away with some merry tune that seemed so out of place within the shadow of your temple.
Once more, you found yourself faltering, glancing back towards the safety of your temple and wondering if you should barricade yourself inside, your master’s threat hanging heavy in your mind.
But the warmth and comfort that the god before you exuded was attractive, pulling your feet towards him just like the first time, a moth to his brightly burning flame. He seemed overjoyed at the sight of your nervous figure before him, shuffling about and avoiding his gaze, jumping at every shadow in the forest behind him, as if Sukuna would emerge from the trees.
“So nervous.” Satoru commented, blue eyes skimming over your form. “You have nothing to fear from me, lovely priestess.”
“It is not you who I fear.”
“Ah, of course not.” Pushing the subject no further, the god offered you a soft smile before lowering himself down onto the grass before you, sitting cross-legged on the ground. A flicker of confusion registered within you, for service to Sukuna had taught you that he was never to be beneath you, it would always be him towering over you.
Satoru seemed to hold no such views, looking up at you easily.
“Sit with me.”
Glancing around once more, you shook your head. “I cannot. I told you before, you should not be here.”
Satoru scoffed, a playful glint in his cerulean eyes. “He doesn’t know I’m here. We’re not all-knowing, and he’s off dealing with some war right about now, his attention couldn’t be further from you.”
“He knew you were here before.” You pointed out, shuffling your bare feet awkwardly in the grass, pretending to find interest in the way your toes wrapped around the blades to avoid meeting the gaze of the being before you.
“That was my error. I had been callous in my approach here the first time, unbothered by the idea of him knowing that I’d gone to look at what was his. For that I apologise. I had not realised the way in which it would impact you.” Satoru seemed genuinely sorry for his actions, worry creasing on his otherwise perfect face.
Part of you wondered if it was an act, but you didn’t linger on the thought for too long. You hadn’t experienced kindness in a very long time, and that alone had your resolve wavering.
“Please sit. I brought you an offering.” He patted the grass beside him, and you hesitated for just a moment before doing as he asked, intrigued at the thought of a god bringing you an offering. Sukuna had never given you anything, why should he? And yet, Satoru snapped his fingers and a whole spread of food appeared on the ground before you.
It was a feast for Kings, an exorbitant amount, the likes of which you’d never witnessed in your lifetime.
Stale bread and the odd bit of cheese had become the staple of your diet over the years, that was all the people from the nearby village were willing to spare for a priestess of a war god, especially when your region had been experiencing peaceful times for as long as you’d lived.
“This is too much for you to offer me,” you said politely, trying to decline. You were concerned that indulging in wines and meats would be apparent to Sukuna on your breath, perhaps even on your body, for it might stop your skin from stretching uncomfortably over your bones like it did currently.
Satoru shook his head, beaming at you. “This is nothing. Eat. You’re such a frail little thing, he clearly doesn't feed you enough, so let me help you.”
You knew it was wrong, knew that you should turn down his offering just like Sukuna would want you to. After all, if your master believed your diet should be so limited, you were in no position to question his judgement. But your piety did little to override the desires of your body, and humiliatingly you could feel yourself starting to salivate.
He didn’t have to know. You’d eat just enough to sate your hunger and that would be that. You didn’t need to overindulge.
Hastily stuffing some grapes into your mouth, the pleased look on Satoru’s face emboldened you to continue. Even if he wasn’t the god you were supposed to serve, there was something about him that led you to desire his approval in the same way you desired Sukuna’s. Perhaps it was the knowledge that he could kill you just as easily as your own master could, if he so wished.
“That’s it,” he chirped. “Enjoy it.” You grew so preoccupied with your feast, luxuriating in a range of flavours that you’d never known, that it came as a surprise to you when a warm hand brushed your neck, long fingers trailing delicately down your nape.
You withdrew quickly, jumping like some frightened stray cat, eyes wide and worried, unsure of the god’s intentions. He remained unfettered, dropping his hand and studying you like you were a matter of greater interest than some common priestess.
“Are you sure you’re no nymph? Perhaps some forgotten daughter of another god, cast out into the fringes of our minds?” The honeyed words had your pulse racing, unsure what to make of the compliment. It felt pleasant to be praised, but he was not the man you should be seeking praise from. “You’re so fair, it makes me want to hide you away from Sukuna.”
He spat out your master’s name like a curse, something dark and unbefitting of his light and lovely voice. You said nothing, peering back at him as you remained crouched in silence. There wasn’t a chance that you’d even acknowledge such a statement, for you knew acknowledgement tended to count as consent amongst gods.
Satoru shuffled closer once more, “this mark on the back of your neck, he left it on you?” His fingers were back on your skin now, pressing down on what you assumed must be a bruise. You hadn’t kept track of the marks on your body in a long time, aware that Sukuna would often leave them in his wake. They had never really bothered you.
And yet, Satoru looked concerned.
“I suppose so,” you mumbled.
Scoffing, he shook his head. “What a barbarian.”
Again, you found yourself glancing into the darkness of the trees, despising the idea that Sukuna might potentially be listening in on the exchange, waiting for you to slip up. If he was, you wanted him to be certain that you weren’t going along with Satoru’s complaints towards him.
“He’s not…a barbarian,” you whispered. Despite Sukuna’s treatment of you, it wasn’t so easy for you to cast aside your master. You loved him, you’d always loved him, it was practically built into your body. If he wanted to use you, he was free to do so, if he wanted to kill you, that was up to him.
Satoru looked sad, carefully withdrawing his hand and dropping it into his lap. It was evident that he’d thought this conversation would go a different way. “Do you enjoy my company?” He asked.
“I do.” There was no point in being dishonest. The green, airy atmosphere that he brought along with his presence was pleasant, and the opportunity to speak aloud to someone for once in your lonely life felt freeing, even if you knew it to be wrong. But that was where your rule-breaking would stop. You could dip your toes in the pools of possibility, but there were lines you would never cross.
“I was here last night, you know.” He spoke.
A chill ran through you at his words.
“Is that how your visits from him always play out? Letting him have his way with you without so much as a hello? Receiving everything he could possibly want and then leaving you cold and shivering on the floor, praying for a sliver of his affection?”
You wondered if Sukuna had known that Satoru was watching, if he’d revelled in the idea of an audience. Perhaps he simply didn’t care at all, why should it bother him if there was someone watching him lay claim to what was his?
“That’s my role,” you said mechanically, upon the realisation that Satoru was waiting for an answer.
“And again I must ask, you’re happy with that role?”
“Yes.”
“Happy for him to leave you in solitude? To take you with such violence and then berate you for talking to another, all while he’s free to do as he pleases?”
“Yes.” You lied, more than happy to pretend that you didn’t spend your nights dreaming of more, fantasising about a life in which you could stay in Sukuna’s embrace, rather than wrapped in the cool emptiness of his temple.
“And when you grow older? When your looks start to fail you and he ceases his visits, how do you think you'll feel about your role then?”
The anxiety gripped your heart like a vice. The thought of Sukuna discarding you entirely was something you’d often considered, seeping into the cracks of your mind on your loneliest nights. There was nothing you could do to stop it, for time would march on and you would age, and he would find some new beautiful priestess to have as his favourite.
“You’ll miss him.” Satoru said, answering the question for you. “You’ll lament and suffer and wish that he’d given you something to keep. You’ll realise that all your faith and devotion meant nothing to him, while he meant everything to you.”
Tears began to stream down your cheeks before you could stop them, and you found yourself recoiling away from Satoru, feeling suddenly cold.
“There will be no worth to your life, no honor given to you for your devotion and service. He’ll discard you, just as he discards everything that no longer qualifies as interesting to him. If your loneliness is strong now, it is nothing to what it will be when he’s gone for good, fascinated wholly with another while you wither into obscurity.”
A whimper escaped you, tears dripping onto the grass below as the god before you laid out the future that you’d never wished to consider. Perhaps he was the god of prophecy, witnessing your fate even before it could play out, but he didn’t need to be for your path to stand clear - it had always been obvious to you that things could only end one way.
Sukuna would cast you out, and that would be that.
“I don’t- I can’t-”
“Shhh.” Satoru moved closer, curling around you in a gentle embrace. “Not all is lost.”
Shoulders shaking, you let him hold you, overwhelmed by such a lovely show of warmth and affection that you’d lacked your whole life. He was cooing quietly, stroking your hair with one hand and wiping your tears with the other. It was like he’d ripped your broken heart from your chest just so he could prove to you that it was in pieces, and you weren’t quite sure what to do with that.
You shouldn’t have huddled up against him, shouldn’t have allowed his comfort, but what was a mere human supposed to do? Whether you obeyed Sukuna or not, the outcome of him casting you aside one day wouldn’t change.
At least for now, if you disobeyed him, you could experience comfort for once.
The two of you stayed there for a long time, long enough that by the time Satoru was pulling away, you felt like you’d almost melded into his slender form. “I can make you my priestess, I can make you my world. Beauty like yours is rare, and would never cast it aside like he does, not in old age. I would leave you not in solitude, but keep you in the warmth of my arms for eternity if you’d allow me.”
“I can’t, I’m his, I want to be his, I-”
“He’ll never be yours.” His blue eyes were sparkling as he regarded you with a serious look, one filled with desire. “But I can be. I have gazed upon you for longer than I should admit, have stalked about in these woods and watched Sukuna mishandle beauty that deserves more. Let me give you more.”
Your stomach was churning with anxiety, not sure what to do. Your mind and heart were screaming away about your loyalty to the only master you’d ever known, to the god that you loved, reminding you of the consequences for even hearing Satoru’s offer to completion.
But there was no denying the desire in your body.
You felt warm for the first time in eternity, and you didn’t want the softness of Satoru’s touch to leave you. If you couldn’t be held by the one you loved, then it was better to be held by another than abandoned to loneliness when Sukuna grew tired of you.
Satoru’s fingers were grazing your cheeks with the utmost care, so gentle compared to your master’s rough hands. You mewled softly under his touch, pathetic in the way you leaned up against him, letting him pet you affectionately like you were some treasured cat.
You’d never had much of your own autonomy, always reliant on gods to tell you what you needed to be. You supposed whether that god was Sukuna or Satoru made no real difference. But if one’s light would stay, allowing you to bask in its warmth for a time, that was preferable to one who would leave you to starve in the dark.
As Satoru pulled you up from the floor, you allowed yourself to be cradled within his strong arms, too distraught over the matter of your master to register the peril involved as the god crossed the threshold into the temple, a domain where he was surely not welcome.
Seemingly unphased, he took a seat on one of the marble benches just before the altar, holding you carefully in his lap and drying away the last of your tears. “There, there,” he soothed. “Let me look after you.”
Allowing yourself to melt into his arms, you did nothing to prevent the slow brush of his pink lips against yours, mouth parting for his tongue as if it was the most natural thing in the world. You supposed that in a way, it was, Sukuna had taught you nothing but obedience, so with Satoru’s grip so firm and welcoming, what were you supposed to do if not obey?
Satoru’s lips tasted surprisingly sweet, the faintest taste of cherry lingering upon them. One of hands moved to the back of your neck, pulling you in closer, allowing his tongue to explore your mouth in a manner that was more curious than domineering. Your fingers gripped at the fabric of his clothes, anchoring yourself to him, like you might lose yourself in his kiss.
There was no attempt made to prevent his other hand from wandering to the shoulders of your dress, slipping the loose fabric down your arms and allowing it to pool at your waist. Your nipples were perked, whether from arousal or the cool air of the temple, you weren’t quite sure; any thoughts on the matter fled your mind as Satoru broke the kiss and hoisted you up a little, letting his lips find one of your nipples, his tongue flicking against it before taking that sensitive bud into his mouth.
It pulled a pathetic little whine from you as you clung desperately to his shoulders. This wasn’t something that Sukuna had ever done. His focus had never been on your pleasure, but on meeting his own needs - to experience such devoted touch felt strange, but not unpleasant by any means.
One of Satoru’s hands moved up your leg, pushing beneath the remaining fabric of your dress and finding itself in the space between your thighs. His long fingers navigated carefully over your pussy, with a gentleness that your master had never possessed, moving slick through your folds and circling a spot which had you whimpering.
For a few minutes, you were lost in it all. You were off somewhere else in your mind, in some lovely field that befitted Satoru’s pleasant atmosphere, where the two of you could lay beneath the sun and make love amongst the flowers for all eternity.
It was an illusion that shattered quickly.
Satoru was just in the process of repositioning you. He’d discarded your white dress entirely, carrying you over to the altar and lifting you to sit atop something that you’d previously only ever been bent over. He’d spread your legs and knelt down before you, peering up from his place beneath you with an expression laden with desire.
His breath had fanned over your exposed core, your body trembling at his proximity, in desperate anticipation of what it might feel like to have his tongue pressed up against you.
But the moment he leaned in to give you what you’d been awaiting with bated breath, a large hand found its way into your hair and dragged you violently to the ground. You yelped desperately, struggling beneath an unwavering grip, your shoulder aching where it had bashed against the marble.
“Stay still.” The voice was cold and bone-chillingly familiar.
Sukuna wasn’t looking at you, his eyes were fixed evenly on Satoru, who was carefully picking himself up off the floor. His neck and chest was stained with a gold liquid, flowing from a cut which was swiftly closing itself up on his pale neck.
Blinking, panic began to rise up in your chest. You wanted to fidget, to beg Sukuna for mercy and forgiveness, but such an action would be foolish, so you stayed deathly still in his grip, a rabbit accepting its fate within the jaws of a wolf.
“I suppose you find this amusing, an attempt to defile what’s mine within my own temple. Did you think I wouldn’t know?” Sukuna’s voice was calm, with a dangerous edge to it. He was addressing Satoru alone, still not bothering to spare a glance at you.
Satoru shrugged, an impish grin spreading across his face. “I thought you were busy.”
Sukuna scoffed. “If I broke into one of your frivolous brothels that you refer to as temples, you’d know the second I took a step over the threshold. So what was this? An attempt to upset me?”
“Why would you be upset?” Satoru asked, pleasantly.
“You know I don’t like to share,” he said, his grip on you tightening.
“You have any number of lovely priestesses, where’s the harm in letting me have one?” Sukuna’s red eyes flickered with annoyance, and for the first time he looked at you, a mix of fury and disappointment present on his terrifyingly beautiful face.
“And you. How dare you?” He asked, dismissing Satoru’s question entirely, his full attention fixed on your quivering form. “Speak.” He barked when you failed to answer swiftly.
“He- I- I’m sorry-”
There was no explanation for your lack of loyalty, nothing beyond admitting that you were afraid to be alone, that you loved Sukuna so deeply that you could no longer bear the nature of your relationship. But telling him that would make him just as angry as telling him nothing.
You weren’t supposed to want anything. You were nothing more than a servant to him with no will of her own.
You yelped as he slapped you hard across the face, ears ringing at the force of the blow. “I should kill you for this, rip you apart for offering yourself to another. To receive what I give you is an honour, and you’re too much of a whore to be thankful.” He spat.
“I am, I am thankful.” You were mumbling as you tried to sit up, stumbling over your words as one of Sukuna’s hands came to press down on your delicate neck. “I’m sorry, it was a mistake, I didn’t mean to- I was scared-”
“Scared?” Sukuna’s tone was mocking, his eyes alight with fury. “Scared of him?” He asked, jerking his thumb in the direction of Satoru, who was watching on with detached curiosity. The sight made your stomach churn, because that man’s honeyed words had moved and confused you and now he seemed unbothered by the whole matter.
Such was the way of gods, as your parents used to say. Mortals were little more than ants to them.
“Not scared of h-him.” Your answer was honest, because you didn’t truly believe Satoru to be a threat to you. Had you turned him down outside you were certain that he would’ve left you be, the issue was that he’d understood exactly what to say to get you to give in.
You were a fool, falling for nothing more than a silver tongue.
“Then what? Because there is nothing you should fear more than my wrath, little priestess, I thought you were smart enough to understand at least that.”
His grip was tightening as he leant more of his weight atop you, keeping you helplessly still. Your lungs started to burn, fingers reaching up to grapple at his wrist to no avail.
You could hardly fend off a human man, let alone the god of war himself.
“I fear- I fear your absence.” You confessed honestly, humiliation filling you at the sheer patheticness of your words. It was an insult to voice such things, to expect that you’d be worthy of his time or attention in any capacity.
Sukuna’s red eyes flew wide at your words and his grip faltered ever so slightly. “My…absence?”
“Yes,” you whispered. “One day you’ll leave me alone in the dark for good and I’ll h-have nothing.”
For a moment he was silent, brow furrowed as if in thought, before seemingly regaining his composure, his expression hardening.
“So you thought to whore yourself out to this fool instead?” He spat. “Forsake everything I’ve taught you, the very vow that you should live by, because you’re afraid of being lonely?”
You nodded as best as you could beneath his grip. “I’m sorry-“
“Pathetic. I’d thought of you as one of my best. I suppose I misjudged you.”
The disappointment in his tone had tears prickling at your eyes, filled to the brim with guilt. In the heat of the moment, Satoru’s points had made sense, had tugged at all your deepest fears. But now, with Sukuna’s weight pressing down upon you, all you could think about was how much of a fraud you were.
How spectacularly you’d failed at the one thing that gave your life meaning.
“Are- are you going to kill me?” Your voice was tiny, for beneath the judgement of your cherished master you were nothing more than a scared girl who understood little of gods and their whims.
Again, there was a flicker of something uncertain on Sukuna’s face, like he hadn’t anticipated those words to fall from your lips. You barely tensed as his fingers tightened around your throat once more, leaving you certain that he was moments from squeezing the life from your fragile body.
Part of you hoped Satoru would step in, but it was clear that he wouldn’t, simply lounging on one of the marble benches, watching the exchange with rapt attention. It was becoming apparent that he hadn’t had your best intentions in mind, no more of a friend to you than Sukuna was.
Perhaps all he’d wanted was to have some fun with some poor, hapless mortal.
Letting your eyes flutter closed, you sank back against the marble, accepting the fate Sukuna had deemed befitting of your crime. But before the sweet release of death could find you, the grip on your neck disappeared along with the weight of his body above you.
“You’re not even worth that,” Sukuna hissed, leaving you crumpled and gasping for breath, utterly confused and broken by his decision. “Drown in your sorrow, for I’ll give you nothing.”
It was the perfect humiliation, a suggestion that you weren’t even worth attention in the form of death, and before you could stop yourself you were sobbing openly, your cries bouncing around the marble walls.
Sukuna paid you no mind, heavy feet slamming across the floor in the direction of the doorway, only to freeze at the sound of Satoru’s calm voice from behind him.
“Like you’ve ever given her anything.”
“What?” Sukuna hissed, peering over his shoulder.
“You heard me. She told you what she feared, why she did this, and you still don’t understand. You’ve always been a fool,” Satoru chirped.
Sukuna remained frozen to the spot as the white-haired god approached you, crouching down behind you and pulling you carefully into his grip.
“How many times have you visited this temple, Sukuna?” Satoru’s fingers were toying with your body, running across your soft skin. His fingers brushed over your nipples and you flinched ever so slightly, your breathing picking up as his hand moved between your legs. Despite the situation you could feel your arousal growing, the sensation only heightened by the crimson eyes fixed fiercely onto your figure.
“What does it matter?”
“Do you remember?” Satoru purred against your ears.
You nodded, struggling to find your voice. “Eighty-three times.” You whispered, meekly. You could remember each visit with staggering clarity, no matter how similar each one may have been.
Satoru whistled. “That’s a lot. How often do you visit your other temples, Sukuna? Once? Twice? Never?”
The fingers dancing over your skin didn’t stop, and you felt that familiar pleasure building beneath Satoru’s touch, a pleasant comfort buzzing through your veins and chasing away the desperate fear which had plagued you moments ago. You saw Sukuna’s throat bob, a flicker of something deeply unhappy in his eyes as Satoru slipped a finger into you once more, all for him to see.
“I don’t see why it's any of your concern,” he said, finally.
“No? I suppose you don’t mind then, that I’m doing this to your favourite priestess. I suppose you wouldn’t mind if I made her one of mine, fucked her over my altar just like you used to.”
“I suppose not. She’s nothing. Just some pretty mortal who can’t even follow rules.” Sukuna’s tone was even, but still he didn’t move. His eyes were watching Satoru carefully, as if assessing his next steps.
“Great.” Satoru picked you up, and sat you down on the altar once more, back in the position that he’d put you in so carefully before Sukuna’s arrival. “I won’t waste any time then.” Discarding his own clothes, he dropped them down onto the marble. Your eyes scanned his form nervously - you were accustomed to being with Sukuna, familiar with his size, and found yourself glad to see that Satoru was smaller.
Not that you meant that in any sort of disparaging way.
He had a pretty cock, still thick and girthy, but the type that would bring you pleasure rather than stretch you out to the point of pain. Satoru smiled as he gazed down at you, a reassuring look that had your heart fluttering. Carefully he cupped your face, running his thumb over the purple bruise blossoming over your cheek.
Fingers clinging to his shoulders, you sucked in a breath as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds. And yet, you couldn’t keep your attention fixed on the man before you, your gaze instinctively drifting to the hulking god standing in the doorway. His red gaze met yours, and there was a moment of terror in which you wondered if he’d kill you for looking at him without permission.
Instead, he held your stare, your heart beating harder as Satoru started to push into you, imagining that it was Sukuna holding you so tenderly, pushing into you with care and desire beyond animalistic need.
“Stop.” Sukuna uttered the word in such a low tone that you weren’t quite sure you’d caught it, figuring it was a hallucination born from your own need for the god. When he repeated it a second time, there was no mistaking its reality, for it came out as a bellow, a new deep cut appearing across Satoru’s back.
And then another.
And another.
Until the white-haired god was covered in a litany of slashes, pulling back from you swiftly, leaving you cold in your propped up position upon the altar. Your body began to tremble, hardly noticing the way Satoru was cursing off to the side of you, desperately trying to heal the damage Sukuna had caused to him.
You were too transfixed by your master storming towards you, wondering if Satoru’s slight had led Sukuna to change his mind about killing you.
With your breath picking up desperately, you were sure that you looked utterly terrified as he came to a stop before you, towering over you just as he always did. His shadow completely eclipsed you, and the hairs on your arm were standing on end, the desire to run overcoming you. But you’d seen what had happened to Satoru, a being who couldn’t be killed - one singular slash would spell your end.
“Tell me,” Sukuna said calmly. “What is it that you want? Do you despise me? Do you long for him and his temples of light?”
“No.”
“No?”
You shook your head again.
“Then what?”
“I told you already.” Your voice was soft and small. “I love you, and I want- I want you to love me.” It felt pathetic to say out loud, to give voice to a request so selfish and impossible. What were you to your master?
Nothing more than a mortal priestess.
And yet, after a moment of thought, he answered your question seriously. “I am no god of love. It is not something I could give to you even if I wanted to.”
Before he could say anything further, he was interrupted by the sound of Satoru’s laughter. The sound came out a little odd, making a gargling noise like he was choking on his own blood as he desperately tried to heal his wounds. “You’re such a fool, Sukuna.”
Glaring at him, Sukuna’s brows furrowed and another slash appeared across Satoru’s chest. It didn’t seem to phase him - in the time that you’d spent with him, you’d come to realise that few things did.
“Why do you visit her so frequently? Why indulge in her flesh when you have countless others? What reason can you give?” Satoru pushed. “I have seen you murder for matters most frivolous, but when you find her, your most devoted little thing, in the arms of another you let her go free? Cause her no more injury than a mere strike?”
“I do as I please, I need to offer you no explanation for my actions.” Sukuna hissed, still pinning you beneath his gaze as he dismissed his peer.
“No, but maybe you should try offering yourself one.”
Sukuna was frozen, his expression unchanging as he stared down at you. You weren’t sure what to make of the glimmer in your eye, feeling completely exposed beneath his gaze. You wanted to sink into the floor, didn’t want to endure any further humiliation or dismissal. You understood your place with great clarity, you needed no further confirmation.
“I’m sorry, please, there’s nothing wrong with our arrangement. I’m wrong to be upset. It's my role to serve whatever you desire. I’m sorry.” You chanted out apologies like a prayer, unsure as to what was going through Sukuna’s mind. You were shifting about awkwardly on the altar, feeling too vulnerable beneath his gaze.
“Oh stop, you. That’s not what you really think.” Satoru cut in. “I’ve been watching you long enough to know your mind, and I’ve always known his. I’d appreciate it if you both stop wasting my time.”
“Stop wasting…?” You faltered, falling silent, struggling to understand Satoru’s words. He ran a hand carefully through his hair, gaze flickering between you and Sukuna.
Sukuna's brow furrowed further, finally pulling his gaze from you to look at his fellow god. “I knew you were playing some kind of game.”
“Oh please, you constantly go off to some poxy little temple on an island forgotten by all of us and expect me not to notice something odd? I had to take a look at what had captured your attention, and to see how you were handling it made me feel embarrassed. I figured I’d give you a push in the right direction. Now go on. Stop lying to yourself.”
For a moment, it seemed like Sukuna might make a move to attack Satoru, clear rage smouldering in the crimson of his eyes. But by some miracle, his attention turned back to you, and that anger dissipated, giving way to an expression which you were unfamiliar with.
Shaking, your breath hitched as his fingers trailed beneath your chin. You couldn’t follow what was happening, struggling to piece together the role that Satoru had played here, unclear on whether Sukuna had forgiven you, half convinced that he’d behead you for the annoyance that Satoru had caused him.
Instead, he leant forward, breath fanning against your face.
“Do you even know how to kiss?” Satoru interrupted. “She likes that, you know, seemed desperate for it when I-”
“Silence.”
Sukuna’s thumb stroked along your jaw, and you blinked nervously, eyes darting anywhere but his face. This was uncharted territory, unaccustomed to facing him like this at all, let alone being treated with such tenderness. Anxiety swirled in your stomach, conscious that this act of warmth might be something final.
“Look at me,” he commanded, and you did, staring directly into the deep crimson of his eyes.
The kiss that followed was slow, stealing the breath from your lungs as his lips pressed against yours, almost tentatively. It was in stark contrast to his usual vigor and aggression, the contact careful in nature.
His tongue pressed into your mouth, dominating you as was always his way, but not devouring you completely as he usually would. The exploration was more like a dance, his tongue flicking curiously against yours as one of his hands found your waist, pulling you closer to him.
The warmth of his body was new to you, accustomed solely to the weight of him taking you from behind, completely detached from heat and affection. To feel his chest against yours, radiating heat against your smaller form, had your heart racing.
“Not so hard, is it?” Satoru quipped, only for Sukuna to pull away for a moment and fix him with a glare.
“I will chop you into pieces.”
“Pretend I’m not here.” Satoru raised his hands defensively, and that seemed to be good enough for Sukuna, his attention turned back to you. Your lashes were fluttering, legs pressing against his waist, the sweat forcing your skin to stick against his.
“What-”
“You should stay quiet too.” He spoke, albeit more softly than the sharp tone directed to Satoru. “Lest I change my mind.”
You took his order as gospel, clamping your mouth shut and deciding that you didn’t need an explanation at that moment, despite your confusion. If he was going to treat you with reverence, you’d rather experience such a thing firsthand than force an explanation out of him.
There was no way you’d take the risk of disrupting whatever was currently taking place.
Leaning in once more, you instinctively closed your eyes at his approach, a little surprised as he stalled just before contact, the skin of his lips ghosting against yours. A hand went to your cheek, brushing over the flowering purple bruise. Wincing, you found yourself watching him carefully, like a deer assessing a new being in the forest, one whose level of threat remained unclear.
Caressing the bruise, he let out a heavy sigh before a lovely sense of warmth spread through your face, emitting from his hand. Moments later it was gone, along with the throbbing pain in your cheek, like he’d undone the damage he’d caused.
Before you could question it or thank him, his lips were on yours once again, soft and enticing, pulling you against him in an embrace that felt reserved for lovers, rather than one of a god getting his fill of a servant.
His four hands started to roam over your body, brushing your breasts, squeezing your thighs, feeling you as if it were the first time his hands had touched your flesh. One of his hands moved between your legs, experimentally moving the slick through your folds, a thick finger dipping into you.
Such attention had you whining against him, a sound that was swiftly swallowed by his lips. His finger was thicker than Satoru’s had been, working you open carefully, an action he had never thought to take in the past. You couldn’t understand the effect that Satoru had created within him, unsure as to how he’d gone from hitting and rejecting you, to offering you affection he’d never allowed before.
He slid another finger into you, stretching you out until he was satisfied, his lips locked against yours until he was pulling his fingers back. “Suck.” He ordered gruffly, a trace of his old self present in the way his fingers pressed against your lips, forcing their way into your mouth.
Satoru made a sound of disapproval in the background, reminding you of his presence, but if Sukuna heard, he paid the man no mind. He seemed too focused on your body spread out before him, your wide eyes looking up at him nervously.
He shed his clothes in a single action, letting the fabric pool on the floor beside yours. Your eyes instinctively moved down to where his cock hung heavy between his legs, the monstrous size never failing to steal your breath away. You could hardly believe the number of times he’d sheathed the thing within you without any effort of preparation, your body adapting because it was what he required.
This time was different.
Mirroring the treatment that Satoru had given you earlier, Sukuna carefully ran the tip of his cock through your folds, red eyes fixed on your face. You felt shy, eager to turn your face away. It was easier to do this in the manner he usually would, with you bent over while he took you from behind. Gazing upon him so openly felt too vulnerable for your liking, even if the lust in his eyes had your heart racing.
“You are my favoured one.” Sukuna’s voice was deep, “understand that, because I do not wish to speak more on the matter.”
Lips parting, the question of what that meant dangled on your tongue. To you it suggested the situation was the same as before - for now he favoured you, in a few years time the matter would be different.
He seemed to understand your concern before you could voice it.
“I will not toss you aside for something as trivial as old age. To attract my attention is something significant, not a matter of simple youthful looks.” A yelp fell from your throat as he pushed himself into you, easily filling you to the brim, just like he always would.
You had a million questions running through your mind, wondering where his true feelings towards you lay. It was clear that Satoru understood him better than you did, pushing him to some sort of conclusion that he wouldn’t have stumbled upon on his own.
“Do not betray me again.” He huffed in your ear, breath warm against your skin. “Do so and I will not forgive you, you’ll receive no more mercy than my enemies would. But cling to your loyalty and I will give you what you seek. You’ll have my attention, my affection, for as long as you deserve it.”
“I’ll offer you everything.” The words came out breathy, your body twitching as he withdrew himself from you only to fill you up once more, rewarding you with long deep strokes that held far more affection than the frenzied fucking that you’d usually receive from him.
You found your nails digging into the skin of his shoulders, drawing blood and marring his perfect form with each brutal thrust, simply trying to cling onto him. Your cries were loud, echoing within the marble just as they always had, but the nature this time was different, for your cries were ones of pleasure rather than desire for more.
Sukuna’s breaths were heavy, rasping hard against your ear with each smooth movement of his hips. The passion had your eyes rolling back in your skull, babbling out his name pathetically, demonstrating your loyalty to him in your ecstatic reaction to his actions.
This was all you’d ever wanted.
An opportunity that had once seemed impossible.
His fingers were bruising your thighs, pulling you closer with each stroke, and as your thighs tightened around his hips, one of his hands slipped down between the two of you, rubbing that sensitive nub that he’d never deigned to touch before, always too focussed on chasing his own gratification.
Lights danced in your eyes at the contact, a desperate cry of his name ripping from your throat as you squeezed around him, cumming on his cock. It felt almost humiliating to find pleasure before him like that, something that he’d never been interested in witnessing in past visits.
If you ever came with him inside of you before, it was an accident rather than intention.
This time, he seemed to have driven you to it, nipping at your neck and circling your clit carefully, even after you’d gushed all over him.
Of course, his hips still didn’t let up, fucking you fast and deep until he reached his own release, his arms wrapped tight around your smaller form, pulling you as close as humanely possible as he poured his own seed into you, finding satisfaction in the way that it dripped down your sweaty thighs and onto the altar below.
Past experience led you to believe that he’d pull away immediately, dropping you down unceremoniously onto the ground, with little regard to the damage it might cause your fragile body.
But this time he did no such thing.
He lifted you carefully, cradling you within his muscular arms and sitting down upon the cool floor, keeping you warm within the confines of his lap. Your heart was speeding at one hundred miles a minute, your fingers pressing against his chest, clinging to him as if he’d disappear if you let go for even a moment.
A hand was brushing your hair, another stroking your thigh, while two were wrapped firmly around your midsection. All four of his eyes were fixed on you too, no distractions in the manner you’d come to expect from him, his focus was on you alone.
You were his, and at least to some extent, he was yours.
“How sweet.” Satoru’s saccharine voice sounded from across the room. The god was leaning his face on his hand, blue eyes sparkling as he watched the exchange. Sukuna straightened up ever so slightly, fixing him with a glare.
“Leave,” he commanded.
“Aw, not even a thank you? You’re so ungrateful.” The white-haired god stood up, a pout fixed on his pink lips.
“A thank you for doing your job? No one thanks me for starting wars, so why would I thank you for orchestrating a union? Love is nothing special.”
“I could’ve sabotaged your love. Kept that pretty little thing all to myself.” He pointed in your direction, offering Sukuna a toothy grin. “In fact, if you cross me I still might. I can make people fall out of love too if I so wish, irritate me and I’ll put a curse on your favoured mortal.”
Sukuna’s face was stormy, his grip tightening on you in a manner that felt almost protective. “Meddle in matters of my heart ever again and I’ll cut you to pieces and spread them across the corners of the globe. I’m sure no one would miss a few centuries without you.”
“So prickly.” Satoru rolled his eyes. “I hope you’re kinder to her. How she could ever fall for you is beyond my reckoning.”
Sukuna peered down at you, and through the centuries of malice lining his ancient, war-scarred face, you could see it - the soft twinkle in his eyes as he met your gaze. The sharp edges of a god of massacre, tempered only for you.
He would keep his promise.
His affection would not be altered by lines of age on your face. Despite all his shortcomings, he was loyal to his word, and he had offered you a piece of his heart no matter how shrivelled and blackened it may be.
And you would cherish that gift for as long as you drew breath.
a/n: NEED HIM BAD <3
anyway to any crazy in love readers I'm currently working on the next chapter and am planning to have it up in the next week or so
thanks for reading! reblogs and comments are appreciated as always <3
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