Sweet as the Harvest ┅ 𝖥𝖺𝗋𝗆𝖾𝗋! 𝖲𝗎𝗄𝗎𝗇𝖺 𝖱𝗒𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗇 & 𝖶𝗂𝖿𝖾! 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋
𝘉𝘦𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘚𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘯𝘢’𝘴 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘢 𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘰𝘴, 𝘧𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘺, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯, 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘮.
﹙𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭﹚
one: ✶ two: ✶ three: ✶ four: ✶
WARNING: nsfw, explicit scenes.
NOTE: here I am feeding my hungry children who yearn for farmer Sukuna.
That night, after the house finally went quiet, you found him sitting on the edge of the bed, broad back turned toward you as he tugged his work shirt over his head. The fabric peeled away slowly, revealing skin still warm from the day’s heat and muscles that shifted with every small movement.
He froze when he noticed you watching.
“What?” he muttered, tossing the shirt aside.
You leaned against the doorframe, arms folded loosely.
“You’ve been acting weird since earlier.”
“I haven’t.”
“You have.”
He grunted, clearly aware he’d been caught, but too stubborn to admit it. The mattress dipped as you climbed onto the bed behind him, your fingers brushing lightly across his shoulder blades.
The reaction was immediate. His entire body tensed, breath catching as your nails traced the faint scars scattered across his back, little reminders of years spent working harder than anyone else.
“You do that on purpose,” he rasped.
“Do what?”
“You touch me like that and then pretend you don’t know what you’re doing.”
You smiled against his skin, pressing yourself closer.
“Maybe I just like how you react.”
Sukuna huffed, but his hand came up to catch your wrist, calloused fingers wrapping around it as he pulled you around to face him. His gaze dropped to your lips for just a moment before he forced himself to meet your eyes.
“You said maybe,” he said quietly. “Earlier.”
Your heart fluttered.
“About a baby.”
His voice was rough, uncertain in a way that didn’t match the intimidating farmer everyone else knew. It was just Sukuna now, your husband, the man who gets flustered when you kiss his cheek in public.
You nodded slowly. “I mean it.”
Something in his expression softened so deeply it almost hurt to look at. He reached up, cupping your face with one large hand, thumb brushing your cheekbone with surprising gentleness.
“…Then we shouldn’t waste time,” he murmured.
Heat rushed up your neck.
“Sukuna-”
He kissed you before you could finish, the motion clumsy at first, but was soon replaced with unyielding hunger. His lips were warm and a little rough, but the way he held you, like prey, made your stomach flip.
You giggled softly when his nose bumped yours.
He scowled. “Don’t laugh.”
“I’m not laughing at you,” you whispered, leaning in again. “You’re just…very serious about this.”
“I’m serious about everything that involves you.”
The words hung between you, heavy and honest.
This time when he kissed you, there was nothing clumsy about it. His hand slid down to your waist, pulling you onto his lap like you weighed nothing. The mattress creaked under the sudden shift, and you squeaked in surprise, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself.
“Careful,” you murmured, though you made no move to get off.
His breath fanned across your collarbone as he nuzzled closer, voice low. “You said you wanted one.”
Your face burned.
“…You’re impossible.”
“And you married me anyway.”
You couldn’t argue with that, even when he has you with your legs resting on his shoulders, and the fat head of his cock lined up, nudging at your entrance.
Your mouth opens in a quiet scream as he sinks in, his thrust looong and slow.
“That’s it–got you right where I want ya…” He grumbles into your ankle, giving it small kisses in between.
His slow and sensuous rhythm didn't last long, and soon he was going at a violent pace. The lewd sounding wet plaps of your skin meeting each other bounced off the walls of the room.
Your hair and everything else is a tangled mess of pleasure and sweat.
“K-kuna…slow down-” He was fucking you stupid.
He ignored your plea and flipped you up, straddling him. “Can’t mama, gotta do my husband duties right?” From his position looking up at your trembling form, he wrapped his hands around your waist, the same hands you can't help but imagine holding a small baby one day, your baby. Maybe five or six, however many Sukuna will let you have.
Sukuna groans and tightens his grip, bringing you back to reality from your daydream. “Your pussy’s tightening too much, relax baby you might snap my dick in half.”
“Oh…m’sorry”
“Shh…jus’ let me do all the work, you just sit there and take it hm?”
He starts snapping his hips up, while his hold around you works hard to bring you down. He’s hitting the spongey spot inside you, making your eyes roll back.
His grunts don’t stop, and neither do his thrusts. “Can’t quit early wife, gotta make sure you milk me dry.”
You whine at his words, and by the end of multiple sessions your cunny is brimming with his cum, and your legs tremble closed trying to keep it all from flowing out. Although his fat finger that was constantly pushing the mix of fluids back in was doing a better job.
–
The days that followed were filled with stolen glances, lingering touches, and quiet moments that felt charged with a new kind of anticipation.
Sukuna started coming inside earlier from the fields, claiming he needed to “check on things in the house,” though you both knew the chores could wait. He’d corner you in the kitchen while you were washing dishes, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and pressing his face into your neck like he needed the contact just to get through the day.
Toji noticed, of course.
“You look tired,” he drawled one evening, eyeing Sukuna’s slightly disheveled appearance. “Not sleeping well?”
Sukuna choked on his drink while you nearly dropped the serving spoon.
Yuji blinked between you both, completely oblivious.
“Uncle, your face is red.”
“It’s the heat s’all,” Sukuna snapped, even though the sun had already set.
–
One afternoon, while the boys were down by the creek and Toji had gone back to his own property, you found Sukuna in the barn stacking feed bags.
Dust floated through the slanted sunlight, settling over his hair and shoulders. He looked up when you stepped inside, eyes softening immediately at the sight of you.
“You shouldn’t be in here love,” he said automatically. “It’s dirty, you're gonna get dust in your eyes.”
You ignored him, walking straight up and tugging lightly on the front of his shirt.
“You said we shouldn’t waste time,” you reminded him shyly.
His breath hitched.
The barn was quiet except for the distant buzz of insects and the faint rustle of hay. Sukuna stared down at you for a long moment, like he was trying to memorize every detail of your face.
“…You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered.
“Probably,” you agreed sweetly.
He groaned softly before pulling you into him, large hands settling on your hips as he lifted you onto a nearby bale of hay. The motion was practiced, years of farm work making you feel featherlight in his grasp.
The world outside seemed to fade away, replaced by the warm scent of straw and the steady thud of his heartbeat under your palm as he lifted your dress over your waist and saw the sweet sticky mess he left inside of you that morning.
“Women, you'll kill me one day.” He groaned into the kiss.
“W-what do you…mh…mean?” You say back, feverishly kissing him.
“Nothin’ just spread those legs nice and wide for me yeah?”
The harvest season was still weeks away, but already, something new was beginning to grow. If the fucking marathon wasn’t enough to insinuate that.
Taglist: @cookispark @sukunasl-ttywh0re @ssrist
