𝄢 summary. a pack of alphas stumble upon the princess running away from her betrothed. instead of sending her right back to the crown, they begin to take a liking to her.
𝄢 series warnings. NSFW/MDNI, DUB-CON, explicit smut, omegaverse, a/b/o dynamics, medieval au (reader is a princess), sub/dom dynamics, light royal politics, this could be seen as cheating but also not really, forced marriage, light angst, hurt/comfort, massive polycule, porn with plot, like this has minimal plot and lots of smut, but that’s what you guys are here for, group dynamics, loss of virginity, corruption, knotting, teasing, perversion, more tags tba.
𝄢 a/n. happy happy happy Valentine’s Day. what’s better than being a princess in a medieval time period AND an alpha trying to get in your panties? SIX ALPHAS!!!! this shall be the start of a (basically) purely smut series where sweet princess!reader shall be defiled each chapter by hot, ripped, primal alphas. each chapter will be marked by their specific content warnings. cross-posting on ao3 soon. dividers by honeyluvsw and dollywons.
Warnings: pure, filthy, degrading, smut, threesome, aged up characters
Synopsis: Yuji is your boyfriend, and you always look forward to him coming home from a mission or training. Tonight, he comes back home with his best friend, Megumi, and he has a hungry look in his eyes.
You're sitting on the bed, scrolling through your phone as you hear the door unlock. You jump up, running to the door to greet your boyfriend.
The door opens, and you throw your arms around Yuji, but you let go when you see Megumi walk through the door, closing it behind him. You give Yuji a confused look.
Yuji softly miles sweetly at you, putting a finger under your chin and tilts your head up. He leans forward and kisses you oh so sweetly.
Yuji places a hand on your lower back and guides you into your shared bedroom (since you became adults, Gojo finally allowed you to share a room). You are followed into the room by Megumi, who, once again, closes the door behind him.
It starts the way it always does, with Yuji kissing you and running his hands over your body. You forget for a moment that you have a guest present. You pull back suddenly as Megumi takes a step forward and places a hand on your waist.
You look back and forth at them, confused.
"Yu? What's going on...?"
He just hums, eyes scanning your body and then looking over at Megumi. They share a knowing look, and you're starting to get worried.
"Yuji, seriously. What's going on?"
His hands gently knead your ass as he talks, his voice like velvet.
"Megumi's gonna be joining us tonight, sweetheart."
Your eyes widen and your turn your head to look at Megumi. His face hasn't changed, hes still wearing a stoic expression, but his eyes are dark, dangerous.
Yuji takes a step back and before you can blink, Megumi's hands are in your waist and his lips are on yours. He backs you up against the wall, his tongue slipping past your lips.
You melt into the kiss, your hands finding his hair. He steps back and shares a look with Yuji.
Yuji reaches out, grabs the hem of your shirt, and pulling over your head. You weren't wearing a bra, since you were just comfortable at home.
"Is this okay, angel?"
You nod immediately. You squeeze your thighs together as you glance at Megumi. You've never realized how hot he is, or how much you want him.
Yuji smiles at your desperate attempt for friction as need finds it's way into your stomach. He picks you up and carries you to the bed, tossing you onto it. He quickly pulls off your pants and underwear in one movement.
Yuji drops to his knees and grabs your thighs, draping them over his shoulders. He pulls you to the edge of the bed and sinks his tongue into you. Your back arches and you whimper as he eats your sopping cunt.
You open your eyes slightly and see Megumi standing over you. One hand pets your head, fingers slipping through your hair, and the other slowly palms his hardening cock.
After a couple minutes, Yuji stands, wiping his lips with his hand.
"You're gonna such a good girl, right baby?" He practically purrs at you.
You nod your head quickly. You had never thought about having two men at once, but right now, with them both looking at you like you're delicious, you want nothing more.
They both strip and Yuji turns you so your head is on the pillows and he's between your thighs at the foot of the bed. Megumi stands at your head, his hard cock in his hand.
Yuji slips the tip in and groans. "You're already so wet, angel. I've barely touched you. Maybe you're dirtier than I thought." He suddenly pulls back slightly and shoves his cock all the way into your pussy. You cry out, your head falling back.
Megumi watches as Yuji begins fucking you slowly. Inch by inch he pulls almost the whole way out, before sinking back in. He gives his own cock a few strokes and groans.
His hands grab your hair and turns your head to the side. Your eyes fall on his length looming over your face.
"Open up, " he grunts, his voice husky. You immediately drop your jaw, your tongue falling out. He pulls your head to him and pushes into your warm mouth.
He let's you get a few good licks in before shoving all the way in, down your throat, without warning. You choke, your eyes filled with tears immediately.
"Yuji told me you were a slut, but I underestimated you."
You groan.
Yuji begins to speed up, moaning praises as he fucks you deep. Megumi starts face fucking you, matching Yuji's pace.
Megumi groans as he slips in and out of your throat, degrading comments spilling from his lips. "You're a fucking whore, aren't you?"
Your moans are muffled around Megumi's cock as they both fuck you at a brutal pace. Yuji grips your thighs tight enough to leave bruises and he fucks you fast and deep, like he'll never get to be in you again.
"Such a pretty, pretty pussy, sweetheart. You take me so well."
Yuji's thrusts become harder as he reaches his orgasm. He slams all the way into you, groaning your name loudly, and pumping hot cum into you.
Megumi follows a few seconds later, shoving your face down, your nose rubbing against his hair. He twitches as he cums down your throat.
He pulls back and looks down at you through his dark lashes. He gives you a simple command, "swallow." You obey instantly, swallowing his hot, nasty cum and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to show him. He smiles slightly.
Yuji stands, his cock coated in a mix your yours and his juices. He nods once to Megumi and walks to the head of the bed. Megumi grabs you, flipping you over onto your stomach. He grabs your hips and roughly pulls then up, and shoves your head down, arching your back. Yuji sits down in front of you, petting your head softly as he strokes himself.
Megumi snacks your ass, drawing a whimper from you. "You're so fucking wet. You like taking us both at once? Huh?" You whimper weakly and nod your head fast.
He smacks your ass again, earning a groan from you. "You're such a fucking whore. I never knew you had this in you." He grabs the base of his cock and slams all the way into you with one motion. You moan loudly, whimpering his name over and over again as he starts fucking you fast.
Yuji runs a thumb over your cheek. "Don't forget about me, pretty girl." You open your mouth, and greedily take him in, running your tongue over the tip. He groans and grabs your hair, moving your head up and down. "So, so good for me, baby. Always so good."
"She's a fucking slut. Look at her, taking it from both ends and she's still soaked."
Megumi grabs your hips and pounds into you, hard and deep. He's longer than Yuji by a couple inches, but Yuji is thicker. With every thrust, he hits your cervix, causing you to moan in slight pain every time.
Yuji starts trembling as he nears his orgasm, moaning your name like a prayer. He thrusts his hips up into your mouth and groans your name loudly as he cums, filling your mouth.
You obediently swallow all of it, just like you already know he wants. He leans his head back against the wall, panting praises for you.
Megumi gets a few more thrusts in before he's following suit. He moans as he cums, fucking you through it. "Fuck, fuck fuck. Oh my godddd."
He pulls out, and your legs give out, your hips falling onto the mattress. You are completely dazed, your swollen pussy leaking a mix of yours, Megumi's, and Yuji's cum.
They glance up at each other, smiling and satisfied. Yuji pets your head, and Megumi rubs your back.
"You did amazing, baby. You were so good for us. So good, angel."
Megumi nods, humming. He walks to the other side of the bed, and lies down next to you, massaging your lower back.
Yuji leaves the room and quickly returns with a glass of water for you. You take a few sips and sit it on the nightstand. He settles in the bed on your side, leaving you sandwiched between them.
Megumi massages your body as Yuji runs his hands through your hair, peppering your cheeks with soft kisses. You rest your head against Yuji's chest as your eyes grows heavy.
They share a slight smile before Yuji reaches over and turns off the lamp on the nightstand. The room quickly fills with soft snoring as the three of you get some much needed rest.
aphrodisiac chocolates with best friend!yuuji ⭑.ᐟ mdni, characters in their twenties ᭝ accidental aphrodisiac usage, protected sex *gasp* - wc 3.2k
"don’t tell me you ate the whole row.”
“you said help,” you mumble, tongue chasing the last traces of chocolate from your molars. “i helped.”
“i meant, like… one. maybe two. fushiguro’s gonna murder me if these were, i dunno, imported or something.”
“they’re just chocolates,” you say, even as warmth is already blooming low. “not a weapon.”
you pop the last one in your mouth just to prove a point... big mistake. for a couple of minutes, it’s fine. then the heat spreads.
it starts behind your sternum, a slow, syrupy spill, then oozes down—between your ribs, under your skin, pooling heavy. every beat of your heart pushes it lower until there’s this throbbing, insistent pull right between your legs.
you shift—your shorts drag against your thighs, fabric rough in a way it usually isn’t. your panties feel damp, sticky, like you’ve been turned on for hours instead of… what, five minutes?
you try to focus on the movie playing, but your eyes keep cutting sideways. yuuji’s sitting cross-legged at the head of the bed, shirt a little wrinkled, sweats slung low on his hips. he laughs at something on the screen, and his throat works, adam’s apple bobbing, the tendons in his neck flexing.
your mouth goes dry—you swallow, but it doesn’t put the fire out... it just fans it. your nipples are tight under your top, sensitive enough that when you cross your arms, you flinch.
okay. maybe this is… something.
yuuji's got a smudge of chocolate at the corner of his lip, and when his tongue comes out to get it—quick, thoughtless, a swipe over his bottom lip—your whole body clenches.
you want that tongue in your mouth. you want his fingers on your skin. you want—
oh.
you sit there for one more heartbeat, shaking, nails digging into your own thighs like that’ll help.
“you good?” yuuji asks, not looking away from the screen. “you’re quiet. that last stunt didn’t even get a ‘that’s dumb’ out of you, i’m worried.”
one second you’re at the foot of the bed, the next, you’re crawling up the rumpled blanket, knees digging into the mattress, and then you’re in his lap, straddling him.
he yelps, hands flying out to catch your hips. “whoa— uh. what’re we—”
you don’t answer. you grab his jaw, tilt his face up, and kiss him. it’s clumsy at first, your teeth knocking his, noses bumping. you don’t care, honestly. his lips are soft and warm, and you press in harder.
he makes a muffled little “mmh!?” sound, fingers tightening on your waist. you open your mouth against his, chasing the taste of chocolate, and his breath catches. your tongue slides over his bottom lip, licking that last smear away, and something in him goes loose.
he kisses back.
his hands drag from your waist to the backs of your thighs, palms spreading over bare skin where your shorts end. you can feel the heat of them, the way his fingertips dig in like he wants you closer even though you’re already pressed chest to chest.
his mouth opens under yours, accepting your tongue, then meeting it. a low sound rumbles out of his chest, vibrating into you, and you whine straight into him.
you break away for air, and there’s a thin sheen of spit slicking both your mouths. you watch his chest heave, his lips red and wet, then you’re diving back in, chasing the contact.
“h-hold on,” he pants against your mouth, trying to talk and kiss at the same time. “you’re— wait, slow down a sec—”
you fist your hand in his shirt, grinding your hips down without meaning to, chasing pressure against the throbbing ache between your legs.
“what’s— ngh— what’s gotten into you?” he manages when you pull back another breath’s worth. his pupils are blown, cheeks flushed. “did nobara text you something? did i die in an alternate timeline? are you—”
“yuuji,” you blurt, voice wrecked. “shut up and kiss me.”
his brain buffers just long enough for you to get your mouth back on his. he makes this little huff that turns into a moan when you suck gently on his tongue.
his fingers push higher under your shorts now, big hands spanning the curve of your ass, dragging you more firmly into his lap. heat flares when you feel a solid shape under you, the press of his cock starting to fill out his sweats.
he breaks the kiss with a gasp, eyes squeezed shut for a second. “okay,” he says, breathing hard, “okay, hang on. we gotta—” he swallows, looks up at you, gaze flicking between your eyes and your mouth. “you’re… really worked up.”
“no shit,” you breathe. everything feels too much—his hands, his mouth, the way every tiny shift makes your panties drag across your soaked pussy. “you’re not helping.”
“what did i do?” he protests. “i was literally just sitting here.”
you want to laugh. you want to cry. you want to ride him until you stop shaking.
instead, you grab one of his hands and drag it higher, shoving his palm under the hem of your shirt and pressing it flat against your sternum so he can feel how hard your heart’s pounding.
his eyes go soft and wide at the same time. “hey,” he says, quieter, hand sliding down to the side of your ribs. “seriously. are you okay? did something happen?”
“yeah,” you say, and your laugh comes out thin. “you fed me sex chocolate, apparently.”
his brows knit. “what?”
you jerk your chin toward the abandoned box on the comforter, lid half open. “label, yuuji. maybe read it next time.”
he twists just enough to snag it, squinting at the tiny lettering. “oh my god, i’m gonna kill fushiguro... for couples only?” he reads under his breath, then louder, panicked, “aphro— aphrodisiac content?!”
you let your forehead drop to his shoulder with a groan. “yeah… no kidding.”
he slaps the lid back on like that’s going to stop anything. “i only had one,” he mutters, more to himself. “you inhaled, like, four. shit.”
he sets the box aside carefully, then his hands are right back on you, one at the small of your back, the other cupping the back of your head.
“okay,” he says. “i’m really sorry, i swear i didn’t know. we can just… chill. i’ll get you water, we can put on something boring, i’ll go sit on the floor or something—”
you drag your face up off his shoulder, breathing hard. his concern makes something warm unfurl under all the frantic need, but it doesn’t take the edge off. “i don’t want water,” you say, and your voice comes out rough, desperate. “it’s not going away.”
his jaw flexes. you can tell he believes you—his gaze keeps dipping to your mouth like his own self-control’s hanging by a thread. “still,” he says, stubborn. “i don’t wanna… take advantage. you’re all—” he gestures vaguely at your whole body, ears pink. “blame fushiguro, not me.”
you stare at him. at the way his grip says he’s two seconds from yanking you back down if you move. the heat pulses between your legs again, almost painful now.
something snaps.
“yuuji,” you say, and your own bluntness surprises you. “if you don’t fuck me, i’m actually going to lose my mind.”
the room goes very, very quiet.
“you can’t—” he starts, voice cracking.
you grab his wrist. before he can pull back, you drag his hand down—over your stomach, to the waistband of your shorts. his fingers flex like he’s going to stop you, but you push anyway, sliding his hand under the elastic and pressing his palm down, right where the ache is worst.
and god, you’re soaked. your whole body jolts just from the contact.
his breath punches out of him—his eyes go wide, and you feel his hand go rigid, fingers trembling just a little as he realises exactly how worked up you are.
“see?” you whisper, and your voice sounds wrecked, even to you. “it hurts, yuuji.”
you rock into his hand, chasing that little pressure. his throat bobs. he curls his fingers just the slightest bit, not really touching you properly, but enough to make your hips jerk.
“shit,” he breathes. his hand starts to move on instinct, and then he snatches it back like he’s been burned, dragging it out of your shorts and pressing the heel of it to his own forehead.
“okay, okay,” he mutters, like he’s talking himself down. “you’re really turned on, i get it, but this is the chocolate talking, and i don’t wanna do something you’re gonna freak out about tomorrow.”
you slide off his lap. for half a second, he looks relieved—until you hook your thumbs into your shorts and shove them down, panties and all, stepping out and kicking them toward the side of the bed.
he makes a sound you’ve never heard from him before, somewhere between a gasp and a swear. you crawl right back into his lap, bare now, thighs bracketing his hips. the fabric of his sweats drags against your skin, and you shiver, nails catching on his shoulders.
“i’m not gonna freak out,” you say, breathing hard. “i can’t… i can’t turn this off. and you’re my best friend.” you lean in, nose bumping his. “help me. please.”
that last word lands. his hands find your waist again, fingers digging in. you can feel him under you now, properly—thick and getting harder by the second, trapped under soft cotton.
“you can’t use the ‘best friend’ card on this,” he says, but it sounds weak, already surrendered. “that’s cheating.”
“so cheat back,” you say, and then you’re kissing him again. this time, he doesn’t hesitate.
he meets you halfway, mouth hot and eager, one hand sliding up your spine to the back of your neck, holding you there. the kiss turns messy fast—teeth grazing, tongues tangling, both of you breathing too hard through your noses because neither of you wants to pull away. there’s a wet little sound when your mouths part for half a second, a thin line of spit catching before you chase it back down, licking into him like you can drown the ache that way.
“you’re killing me,” he mumbles against your lips, but his hands are already moving—one staying on your neck, the other dragging down, over the curve of your ass, gripping bare skin.
you reach between you with shaking fingers, fumbling with the waistband of his sweats. he lifts his hips just enough to help you shove them down, and you finally wrap your hand around him.
he groans into your mouth, the sound wrecked and helpless. his forehead pressed to yours, eyes squeezed shut, like that simple touch almost undid him.
“you’re not making rational choices right now,” he says, even as his hips tip into your grip. “we should… we should at least think about this for, like, ten seconds.”
you stroke him slowly, feeling his cock pulse in your hand, feeling the way his breath stutters with every pass.
“i’ve been thinking about it,” you shoot back. “and all it’s doing is making it worse.”
“you’re sure?” he asks. “if we do this, you don’t get to pretend it never happened.”
your chest squeezes, something hot and fond threading through all the need. “i don’t want to pretend,” you say. “i want you to fuck me until this stops hurting.”
he swallows hard. then something in him just… lets go.
“okay,” he says, voice rough. “i’ve got you, just— gimme a second.”
you blink as he lifts you clean off his lap, palms under your thighs, and sets you down on the mattress. your whole body protests, reaching for him even as he’s leaning over the side of the bed, yanking his nightstand drawer open.
there’s some clattering, a muttered curse, then the soft rip of foil.
“i’m not knocking you up over chocolates,” he mutters, a little breathless, holding up the condom without quite looking at you. “i like you, but i’m not insane.”
your laugh comes out shaky. “debatable.”
“yeah, well,” he says, cheeks pink as he tears the wrapper. “humour me.”
he shoves his sweats off completely, cock bouncing up against his stomach—thick, flushed, a bead of pre caught at the tip. the sight makes your pussy clench around nothing.
he rolls the condom on with quick, practised fingers, then pats his thigh. “c’mere,” he says, eyes finally meeting yours. “before either of us starts thinking too hard.”
you scramble back into his lap, knees bracketing his hips, bare thighs sliding against the warm skin of his. his hands settle on your waist, thumbs rubbing little circles into your sides like he’s trying to calm you down and hold himself together at the same time.
“last chance,” he murmurs. “if you’re not sure—”
“i am,” you cut in. “i need it, yuuji. please.”
something flickers across his face at that—heat, helplessness, a tiny bit of pride—he nods once. “okay.”
you reach between you, fingers wrapping around him, sliding the tip through your slick folds. “fuck,” he breathes. “you’re… so wet.”
“wonder why,” you mumble, lining him up.
you sink down slow, and it’s a lot—thick stretch, pressure that knocks the air right out of your lungs. your hands fly to his shoulders, nails digging in.
“breathe,” he mutters, forehead bumping yours. “little more. you got it.”
you exhale shakily and let yourself drop the last inch. your thighs meet his, your pussy fluttering around him, stuffed full in a way that borders on too much but hits right where that ache has been screaming.
“holy shit,” he gasps. “you’re so… tight—”
you sit there for a second, both of you just trying to adjust. then you rock your hips—just a tiny shift. “hey— hey, warning,” he croaks, fingers spasming on your waist.
you huff a little laugh and do it again. the drag of him inside you sends a hot pulse right through your core, the tension you’ve been drowning in finally starting to unwind, replaced with something sharper.
you find a rhythm—shallow lifts, slow slides back down—using his shoulders for balance. every time you move, the ache eases, morphs into heat that makes your toes curl. yuuji’s watching you like he’s hypnotised, eyes flicking from your face to where you’re taking him and back up again.
“yeah,” he pants. “just like that. that’s… fuck, that’s so good.”
his hands roam—up your back, down to your ass, squeezing, guiding, dragging you down a little harder when you start to wobble. you’re still strung tight, still buzzing, but the edge stops feeling unbearable and starts feeling close.
and then your thighs start to shake, and he notices immediately. “hey,” he murmurs, thumb stroking over the dip of your spine. “let me.”
before you can protest, he taps your thigh twice, and you let him help you up, cock sliding out in a slick pull that has you both groaning. he lays you back, one hand behind your shoulder, the other cradling your hip.
he moves between your knees in a heartbeat, dragging your hips closer to him. his hands push your thighs apart, and he just… looks for a second—at the mess, at how swollen and shiny you are.
he drags the head of his cock through your slick once, watching it catch on your entrance, then presses in. the angle from above feels different—you whine, fingers clawing at the sheets as he sinks all the way to the hilt, pelvis flush to yours.
“fuck,” he groans, head dropping, arms braced by your shoulders. “you’re hugging me. i can feel every little squeeze.”
“move,” you breathe, voice breaking. “please.”
“yeah,” he says, and starts to. he pulls out slow, letting you feel the drag of every ridge, then pushes back in with a steady, deliberate thrust that makes your vision blur. his pace builds bit by bit, not rough, but not gentle either—just solid, deep strokes that land exactly where you need them.
one of his hands slides under your knee, lifting your leg. he hooks it around his waist, holding it there. the new angle has his cock nudging the spot that makes your mouth drop open on a silent sound.
“there it is,” he pants, hips stuttering. “right there, yeah?”
you nod, useless, nails biting into his shoulders. your pussy keeps clenching around him, grabbing every time he hits that spot. “god, you’re squeezing,” he groans.
“keep going,” you manage. “don’t stop.”
he laughs, short and breathless. “bossy when you’re horny, huh?”
you dig your heel into his back in answer. he swears under his breath and leans down, catching your mouth in a kiss—both of you panting into each other. spit slicks your lips, more breath and sound than any kind of technique.
“you still hurting?” he manages, words muffled against your mouth.
“no,” you mumble. “just— feel like i’m gonna explode.”
“yeah?” he whispers. “that's one way to put it.”
his hand slips from under your knee to between your bodies. his thumb finds your clit, pressing in tight little circles that match the rhythm of his hips. the mix of deep strokes and sharp, insistent pressure is too much, especially stacked on top of everything that’s been burning through your veins.
your orgasm hits like a punch—sharp and electric, ripping a raw cry from your throat. your whole body bows, spine arching off the mattress, thigh tightening where it’s still hooked over his waist. your pussy clamps down around him in desperate, fluttering pulses.
yuuji’s curse tears out of him, broken. “oh, fuck— fuck, i can feel that, holy—” his rhythm falls apart, hips driving in fast and a little clumsy now, chasing the edge as you throb around him.
he slams in one last time, burying himself as deep as he can, and cums with a rough, strangled groan, forehead dropping to your shoulder. his cock pulses inside you, warmth spilling thick into the condom as his whole body shudders. his fingers dig into your hip, holding you right there through every twitch.
for a moment, all you can hear is breathing—his, yours, both ragged and uneven. he stays where he is, chest pressed to yours, still inside you, not quite ready to move.
eventually he exhales, long and shaky, and eases out with a slow, careful drag that makes you both wince. you feel oddly empty without him. he deals with the condom quickly, tossing it into the bin, then flops down beside you, arm hooking under your neck to drag you into his side.
you’re still buzzing, skin hot, the phantom throb of the chocolates still flickering low in your stomach. the orgasm took the edge off, but it didn’t burn it out—it just settled into something slower, deeper, a nagging, molten ache that refuses to let go.
yuuji’s chest rises and falls under your cheek, his heartbeat gradually slowing. “you alive?” he asks quietly, voice rough, thumb drawing lazy shapes over your shoulder. you hum, eyes half-lidded, but your thighs press together.
he notices. of course he does. “hey,” he says, a little more alert now. “you okay now?”
you swallow, heat licking back up your spine as another pulse rolls through your core, embarrassingly strong for someone who just came that hard.
“…yuuji,” you murmur, fingers tightening in his shirt. “i think i still need more.”
likes and reblogs are much appreciated! | jjk masterlist
Warnings: Swearing, suggestive themes, sexual themes, sexual language, you are responsible for your own consumption.
A/N: Sorry for being so absent here lately, angels. Life has me down in the dumps and is kicking me whilst I’m down, but I’m hoping to have a fic up sooner or later. In the meantime, here’s this! I hope you all like this. (Pfp art originally found on Pinterest! Artists’ credits below to cut).
✧A/N: sorry this doesn't include everyone, but damn I've got writer's block and i wanted to post something. I'm working on a sukuna fic tho so get ready cuz it's gonna be gross.
∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧──────✧₊∘∘₊✧───
TOJI FUSHIGURO
“Here comes the airplane, Gumi!” you coo, making mock whoosh noises as the chubby toddler opens wide to receive his yogurt.
“Isn’t he a little old to be fed like that?” your boyfriend complains from behind you, eyes narrowed at his son—not too happy about him stealing all of your attention.
“You need to stop babying him, doll.” Toji mumbles against your shoulder, huge arms wrapped around your waist as he gives his son the death glare.
“But I miss when he was little-“ you pout, wiping some stray yogurt from the corner of Megumi’s mouth. “When we first started dating and he would crawl all over the floor-“
“Can I be excused, mama?” Megumi asks politely, cutting off you and Toji’s hushed conversation with a small smile—the toddler stumbles over his words in an adorable way that’s sure to induce baby fever.
“Yes you may.” you smile back, leaning back into Toji’s embrace once the three year old scampers off to his room.
“The kid is never gonna toughen up with the way you’re treating him, mama.” he mocks Megumi’s words with a pestering laugh.
“He doesn’t need to, ‘ji.” you sigh, leaning your head back against his chest to look up at him. “He’s not even in school yet,” you mutter, clearly unhappy at the thought of Megumi starting preschool next year.
“What are you gonna do when he is, doll?” Toji asks, leaning down to peck your pouty lips.
“Be lonely.” you mumble, turning around in Toji’s hold until you’re facing him—chest to his. “Why are you and Megumi so eager to leave me all by myself?” you whine dramatically, pushing some of his hair back.
“What, you want a whiny baby to dote on for the rest of your life?” he teases, slightly confused by your insistence of slowing down his son’s development.
“Maybe I do-“ you smirk, an idea popping into your head. You throw your arms around his wide shoulders, rising up to his ear and biting his lobe-
“Would you give me a baby to dote on, ‘ji?” You whisper, your proposal oozing with a seductive drawl.
Toji is stunned—his jaw unhinging the slightest amount, a subtle flush to his cheeks as he processes what you just asked him.
“Can I make you a daddy again?”
“Fuck- this what you wanted, doll?” Toji’s gruff voice barely registers in your fucked out state—his rough pounds to the very back of your cunt has your head reeling.
“Needed daddy to fill you up till you’re- mfm- round with my kid?” he laughs low in your ear, pelvis smacking your ass so hard you swear the soft flesh is turning red.
“Mhmm!” you cry out, tears falling from your eyes—the byproduct of your previous orgasms and overstimulation.
Your hips are propped up by multiple pillows, keeping you at the perfect angle for Toji’s cockhead to spear into your gummy cervix. All you can do is grip the sheets and take everything he has to give you.
“Megumi wasn’t enough for you, huh?” he grunts, both hands pinning you down by the waist, keeping you in a perfect arch. “So damn greedy-“ Toji slams into you particularly hard, leaning down and crushing your body with his.
“Make m-me a proper- ngh- mama- please, Toji!” you squeal, burying your face even further into the sheets and fucking your hips back, back, back into Toji’s ruthless pace.
“Damn- squeezing me so tight, doll-“ he worms his hand underneath your body to rub mean circles on your clit. “Cum for me- cum and I’ll fill you up, babe-“ Toji pants into your ear, harsh thrusts turning into frantic grinds.
You just nod, no longer able to form coherent sentences—you only let out muffled mewls. With a few more rolls of his hips and flicks to your puffy nub, the borderline painful coil in your belly pulls taut-
“Oh- please-“ your voice breaks, body shaking like a leaf and cunt clamping down like a vice around Toji’s dick. Your hips still, back arching into his solid front, practically begging Toji to finally breed you.
“That’s righttt, doll-“ Toji winces, your pulsing cunt trying to milk him for all he’s worth. “Gonna paint this pretty pussy white, yeah?” he groans right into your ear, a beefy arm moving around your neck before securing you in a headlock.
“Gimme my- mfm- baby, ‘ji!” you beg, your vision nearly spotting the longer your orgasm is drawn out. With a few more shallow thrusts, Toji stuffs your cunt to the brim with his viscous seed—some of it overflowing, dripping down your pussy lips.
“Say thank you, babe-“ Toji snorts, squeezing your head just a little tighter. “Thank me for knocking you up, doll.” he bites your shoulder, hips still flush to your ass. He’s got to make sure you stay nice and full, teeming with his cum.
“Mhmm- thank you, daddy!”
SATORU GOJO
“Toru!” you yell across the baseball diamond, trying to catch your husband’s attention.
Satoru had texted earlier to say he’d be staying late at Jujutsu High, which made you think something was wrong—probably another headache involving the elders. Figuring he could use a pick-me-up, you brought along some sweets.
But when you arrived, it turned out he wasn’t dealing with anything serious at all—he was just hanging around, casually supervising his students’ baseball game after the exchange event with Kyoto.
Satoru searches for the source of his wife’s voice, a dopey grin rising to his face once he locks eyes with you. He gives Yuji one last pat on the head before making his way over.
“How’s my wifey doing?” he pushes his sunglasses up to rest on the top of his head, leaning down to peck your lips.
“I thought maybe you were having a bad day, so I brought you these-“ you hand him the box of treats, though not before ogling how dad-like he looks in that blue button-up.
He would look so sexy holding a chubby baby that looks just like him-
“Hey- what’s going on in that head of yours, hun?” he flicks your forehead, giving you a knowing grin.
“Oh- nothing, Toru-“ you gulp, tearing your gaze away from his exposed forearms to meet his eyes. “You just look-“ you pause, reminiscing on how hot he was while interacting with his students.
“You just look like such a dad, that's all.” you laugh, trying to make it sound unserious—although you’re pretty certain he knows what you’re thinking.
“A dad, huh?”
“Fuck- what if someone w-walks in, Toru?” your moans are breathy, hands bracing on your husband’s chest as he fucks into you with a newfound purpose—getting you pregnant.
“Everyone is busy with the game, princess-“ he coos, big arms wrapping around your back to hold you flush against him. “Just focus on making me a daddy,” Satoru winks, leaning in for a kiss to silence your worries (and whines).
The desk you’re sitting on creaks loudly in the dusty classroom, taking the brunt of your husband’s languid thrusts—though, maybe not as much as your pussy is.
Satoru fucks you slow and deep, making sure to rearrange all of your insides with his leaking cock head. There’s the slightest visible bulge of him just under your belly button every time he bottoms out—you’re so utterly stuffed.
“So-so deep, Toru-“ you whisper against his mouth, lips still wet from his tongue. “So- fuck- full-“ you’re whining, eyes watching where the two of you are connected—creamy strings of your arousal are glazing the base of him, pussy lips spread wide to take his girth.
“You’re about to be a lot fuller, angel.” he lets out a low laugh, a hand moving from your back to press down on the imprint of him in your belly. “Gonna be nice n’ round- ngh- righttt here-“ the pressure is intense, making you feel every single shift of his cock inside you.
“Oh my god-“ you mewl a little too loud, hands smacking Satoru’s shoulders as your tummy tightens. “Gonna cum!” you can barely hold yourself upright, your lower half jerking and twitching.
“Fuck- good girl,” Satoru groans, pushing your back flat against the desk with his weight before burying himself to the hilt. “gonna give me so many mini-me’s, yeah?” he murmurs, face pressed into the crook of your neck.
“Mhmm!” you nod frantically, completely overwhelmed—you can feel his heavy balls twitch against the crevice of your ass, the wide circumference of his tip pressed hard into your cervix, and his staggering form pinning you down.
“Please, Toru-“ your meek whisper sends your husband over the edge, filling your pulsing cunt with a hushed whimper—thick ropes of warm cum flooding your insides.
“God- take it all, angel.” Satoru’s hot breath prickles your neck, chilly hands rubbing comforting circles on your sides while the two of you come down from your highs.
Your little breeding session comes to a swift conclusion once Satoru hears distant footsteps down the hallway. He pulls out, pulling your panties back up your legs—keeping his seed right where it needs to be and pecking your lips-
“Gojo-Sensei!”
CHOSO KAMO
“You two have been together for years and ya still haven’t given me any grandkids,” Jin is drunk off his rocker, slurring his words at the family dinner despite his youngest son being in attendance. “bedroom life ain’t up to par-“
“Dad.” Your fiancé silences his father’s next words with a stern tone, gesturing to the existence of little Yuji sitting right next to him.
“That’s enough booze for you, brother- heh.” Choso’s uncle, Sukuna, huffs out a laugh then pries the glass away from the drunkard’s hands and walks off the kitchen with him in tow—though not before smacking your fiancé up the head for the hell of it.
“Sorry, sweetheart.” Choso mumbles while soothing the back of his skull, completely embarrassed by his family’s behavior tonight.
“No don’t worry about it, Cho-“ you giggle, taking a sip of your wine. “I’m thoroughly entertained and…“ your voice drops to a whisper “enlightened.” You have that cheeky smile on your face that makes Choso shiver.
“I think Jin’s got a point, babe.” you reach out to run your nails through Choso’s hair, fixing it from his uncle’s teasing.
“What do you mean, sweetheart?” he asks, looking at you like you just offered him heaven—eyes wide and cheeks flushed. You smirk, rising to your feet and walking over to his little brother-
“Yu, would you be the bestest uncle in the world if Choso and I had a baby?” you crouch next to his chair, giving his chubby cheek a poke.
“Duh!” Yuji shouts, snorting like you just asked him the easiest question in existence.
“Clear enough for you, Cho?”
“Mfmm- if you wanted a baby so b-bad all this time, Cho-“ your breath hitches, a particularly hard pound up into your cunt has you leaning back and clawing for purchase on your fiancé’s thighs. “should’ve just a-asked me-“
“Thought you may have wanted to wait till- ngh- after the wedding, sweetheart.” his strained words are barely heard over the sloppy sounds of your stuffed pussy—Choso’s previous load dripping out of your lewd hole and onto the coarse brown hair covering his pelvis.
“So sweet, Cho-“ you coo, leaning down on top of him to capture his lips. “But you’re never gonna knock me up if all your cum keeps leaking out of me like this, hun.” you murmur, clenching your walls around him on purpose just to see him squirm.
“Fuck- baby, you can’t do that-“ he whines, wrapping an arm around your waist and turning the two of you over—he pushes your knees up to your tits and starts pounding-
“Oh- that’s better, Cho!“ your jaw unhinges, hands clawing at his veiny forearms to ground yourself. The new angle is hitting even deeper—you can feel the filthy slosh of his seed every time he bottoms out inside of you.
“Sooo pretty, sweetheart-“ he groans, gaze locked on the way your perfect tits bounce with every thrust. “Bet you’ll be an even prettier- damn- mommy-“ he leans down, stretching your limbs even further with his weight to take a peaked nipple into his hot mouth.
“Fuck- m’gonna cum-“ you whine, head falling limp on the pillows, nails burying in Choso’s scalp. He mumbles something unintelligible against your tit, freeing one of your legs to snake a finger down to your clit and flick-
You clamp down hard—your quivering walls send your fiancé head first into his own orgasm, filling your cunt with even more of his milky release. You can feel the warm flood being kept at the entrance to your womb—Choso keeping you nice and plugged with his swollen tip.
“Do you think that’ll be enough, sweetheart?” he’s panting, hot breath tickling your chest.
“Hmm, I don't know-“ you giggle, running your nails up and down Choso’s flexed biceps.
“We should probably keep going.”
RYOMEN SUKUNA
“Wife.” your husband greets you as you enter your shared quarters. His hulking form is sat in front of open sliding doors, smoking a pipe and taking in the late night breeze.
“Husband.” you mutter in response, moving across the room to melt into one of his outstretched arms—extended in an invitation that you’re familiar with. You crawl into his large lap, falling into a comfortable silence.
“I just finished my monthlies-“ you finally speak, settling into his arms and inhaling the comforting scent of smoke. “I’m not with child.” you elaborate, a disappointed sigh worming its way out of your throat.
Silence.
“I’m sorry, Ryo-“ you feel tears pricking your waterline, your breaths turning shaky. “Perhaps there’s something wrong with me-“
“Quiet.” he says firmly, taking a deep drag from his pipe and scratching the top of your head adoringly. “You’re in need of some patience, wife.” he scolds, wrapping one of his monstrous arms around your front and splaying one hand across the expanse of your belly.
“Apologies, husband.” you lean your head back on his shoulder, fingers fiddling with the fabric of his tailored robes.
“I’ll give you a child-“ your husband starts, both sets of eyes falling on your disheartened form. “however, it may require us to try something new-“
“New?”
“Hurtsss, Ryo-“ you’re nearly sobbing, struggling to handle the stretch of having both of his cocks in your cunt at once.
On a normal night, your husband would take both of your holes, one of his lengths in each—that fullness alone was more than enough for you, but currently it seems Sukuna isn’t willing to let a single drop of his seed go to waste.
His dear wife wants a baby, after all.
“Oh, but my dear-“ his mocking chuckle sends shivers up your spine. “If this is so painful, how will you ever birth my heir?” he bottoms out with a husky groan, eyeing the way your walls are stretched thin-
“Ah- I don’t know- know if I c-can!” you’re babbling, hands digging into Sukuna’s abdomen as you tremble. Both of his bulbous tips are knocking on the door to your womb, creating a deep pressure in your tummy that has you tearing up.
“You made your bed, wife-“ he pulls out just about half way, then slams right back home. “Now lie in it.” he growls, using his lower set of arms to pin your hips down and starts to fuck you in earnest.
He rests his weight back on his heels, upper arms grabbing your ankles and holding them out wide in the air—you’re completely exposed, left at the mercy of your husband's whims.
“Fuck- slow down, Ryo-“ you whine, barely audible over the squelching and sloshing of your lewdly soaked cunt—she’s taking him so greedily, despite your brain’s inability to keep up with the sensation.
“No wife of mine taps out, dear.” the encouragement is subtle, but enough for you to nod your head profusely, trying to focus on your real goal—having a baby fucked into you.
“I can t-take it-“ you mewl, trying to convince yourself that you’re capable of bearing this monster of man’s offspring—although knowing damn well you’ll likely be ripped apart, you suppose this unbearable stretch will act as practice-
Your orgasm hits you out of nowhere—shocking both you and Sukuna with a gush of clear slick and suffocating pulses of your pussy. You convulse and sob, legs kicking in your husband’s hold.
“It’ll take this time for certain-“ he grunts, the surprise of you squeezing his cocks has him breeding you fast. Sukuna bullies his twitching dicks as deep as possible before filling you up with a hoarse groan—your belly visibly swelling from the sheer amount of cum-
“Mfmm- feels so good, Ryo-“ you pant as you come down from your high, watching the way his abs tense as he floods your hole with his warm seed—eyes glossed over and grip on your body bruising.
── synopsis .✦ after being seperated from your herd during a violent storm, you find yourself on the outskirts of hunter!sukuna's territory. getting caught in one of his bear traps results in his hesitant rescue, promptly followed by a reluctant stay at his cabin in the middle of the forest. however, with heat season around the corner, you can't help but thirst over the pink-haired, hunk of a man!
── contains .✦ female reader, hunter!sukuna, deer hybrid!reader, virgin!reader, graphic descriptions of injury, awkwardness, eventual smut, heat cycles, hurt/comfort, hunter x prey, p in v, praise kink, antler pulling (reader is a caribou), breeding kink, fingering, loss of virginity, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, creampies, mating press, missionary, doggystyle, teasing, mdni!
── word count .✦ 5.9k!
The forest whispered secrets through the canopy of ancient pines, their needles rustling like distant murmurs in the cool autumn breeze.
You had been wandering for days, maybe weeks – time blurred in the endless green haze. Your herd, the tight-knit group of caribou hybrids you’d grown up with, had scattered during a sudden storm.
Panic had driven them one way while fear rooted you in place, and now you were alone. Your doe ears twitched at every snap of a twig, your tail flicking nervously against your back.
The world felt too vast, too silent without the familiar scents and sounds of your kin.
Your bare feet padded softly over the mossy ground, the chill seeping into your skin despite the layers of scavenged clothes: a threadbare sweater and pants that hung loose on your slender frame.
Hunger gnawed at your stomach, but worse was the isolation, a hollow ache that made your steps falter. You pushed on, ears perking at the faint trickle of a stream ahead. Water. Relief.
But as you stepped forward, agony exploded in your right leg.
Metal jaws clamped down with brutal force, yanking you off balance. You crumpled to the forest floor with a sharp cry, the bear trap’s teeth biting deep into your calf. Pain radiated like fire, hot and unrelenting, as blood welled up, soaking your pant leg.
Your tail thrashed in panic, ears flattening against your skull. You clawed at the dirt, trying to pull free, but the trap held fast, chains rattling against a buried stake.
Tears blurred your vision, sobs escaping in ragged bursts: trapped; alone. The forest seemed to close in, indifferent to your plight.
Hours passed – or was it minutes? The sun dipped lower, casting long shadows that danced mockingly around you.
Your leg throbbed, the bleeding slowing to a sticky ooze, but weakness crept in, sapping your strength. You tugged weakly at the trap again, whimpering as fresh pain lanced through you.
That’s when you heard it: heavy footsteps, deliberate and unhurried, crunching through the underbrush.
He emerged from the trees like a shadow given form: Ryomen Sukuna, though you didn’t know his name yet.
Broad-shouldered and towering, his frame filled the space between the trunks. His pink hair caught the fading light, spiked and wild, and his face bore tattoos that twisted across his skin.
Crimson eyes scanned the area with predatory sharpness. He wore simple clothes: a black shirt stretched taut over his muscled chest, pants tucked into boots caked with mud.
A hunter, you realized with a jolt, the rifle slung over his shoulder confirming it.
His gaze locked onto you, and for a moment, the world stilled. Those eyes narrowed, assessing. You froze, ears pinning back, tail curling tight against your body.
He was enormous, intimidating, his presence radiating a quiet menace that made your heart hammer. He stepped closer, boots thudding softly, and you shrank back, the trap’s chain jerking your leg painfully.
“What the hell…” He grumbled, voice low and gravelly, more to himself than you.
Crouching a safe distance away, he placed his elbows on his knees, studying the trap. His eyes flicked to your face, then to your ears and tail, noting the hybrid traits without surprise. The forest was full of strays like you.
You whimpered, trying to scoot away, but the pain shot up your leg, forcing a gasp from your lips. Blood trickled anew, staining the leaves beneath you.
“P-Please,” you whispered, voice trembling, “help…?”
Sukuna’s jaw tightened. He reached out slowly, gloved hands – rough from years of handling traps and rifles – testing the mechanism.
The trap was one of his, set for bears that wandered too close to his territory. He hadn’t expected this.
With a grunt, he pried the jaws open, the metal groaning in protest. You yanked your leg free the instant it gave, scrambling back on hands and knees, ignoring the fire in your muscles.
Freedom hit like a rush, but it was short-lived.
Your injured leg buckled immediately, sending you sprawling. Blood smeared across the dirt as you tried to stand, leaning on a tree for support.
Panic surged: you had to run. He was too big, too dangerous. Hunters like him didn’t take kindly to intruders, hybrid or not. Your ears flicked wildly, catching his steady breathing behind you.
You bolted – or tried to. The first step was agony, your calf screaming as you limped forward, tail streaming behind like a flag of distress.
You made it ten paces, maybe fifteen, before your vision swam and your knee gave out. You collapsed against a fallen log, clutching your leg, sobs wracking your body. The forest spun, the pain too much, the blood loss making your head light.
Footsteps again, closer this time. Sukuna stood over you, arms crossed, his shadow engulfing you. He debated it then – you could see it in the furrow of his brow, the way his eyes traced your trembling form.
Leave her, a voice in his head probably said. She’s not your problem. The woods were cruel; strays didn’t last long.
But something held him – maybe the way your ears drooped in defeat, or the blood pooling beneath you. With a heavy sigh, he shook his head.
“Idiot,” he grunted, though whether to you or himself, you couldn’t tell.
Before you could protest, strong arms scooped you up, one under your knees, the other around your back.
You stiffened, ears flattening, a startled yelp escaping as he lifted you effortlessly. His body was warm, solid, the scent of pine and earth clinging to him.
“Don’t squirm.” He commanded flatly, voice devoid of warmth but not cruelty. “You’ll bleed out faster.”
You went limp in his hold, too weak to fight, your tail brushing against his arm.
The walk to his cabin was a blur of jostling motion and throbbing pain, the forest fading into twilight. His log cabin loomed ahead, sturdy and isolated, smoke curling from the chimney. He kicked the door open with his boot and carried you inside, the warmth of a fire greeting you like an embrace.
The interior was sparse: wooden walls lined with shelves of jars and tools, a stone hearth crackling with flames, a worn couch and table.
He set you down on the couch gently – surprisingly so for his size – propping your leg on a stool. You watched him warily, ears twitching, as he fetched a first-aid kit from a cabinet. His movements were efficient, no wasted energy.
He knelt before you, gloved hands peeling back your torn pant leg to expose the wound. It was ugly: deep punctures, torn flesh, but not broken bone.
You winced as he cleaned it with antiseptic, the sting making tears well up. He worked in silence, his focus intense, those four eyes flicking between the injury and your face to gauge your pain.
“Hurts.” You whimpered, more to fill the quiet than anything.
“Yeah, no shit.” He replied curtly, wrapping the bandage tight. No more words.
He stood, towering over you again, and pointed to a door. “Bedroom’s that way. Rest.”
You nodded, hobbling to the small room with its simple bed and quilt. Exhaustion claimed you instantly, the pain a dull roar as sleep pulled you under.
The first week blurred into a rhythm of silence and necessity. Your leg healed slowly, the wound scabbing over under Sukuna’s reluctant care.
He changed the bandages daily, his large hands surprisingly deft, but he never lingered. Meals appeared on the table: stew from rabbit or vegetables he’d grown in his garden, bread baked in his oven. You’d eat while he sat across, staring into the fire or sharpening a knife, the scrape of metal the only sound.
Awkwardness hung thick in the air. You’d catch him watching you sometimes, those crimson eyes giving him an unnerving depth, like he saw more than you wanted. Your ears would perk at his approach, tail flicking nervously, and you’d avert your gaze, focusing on the window where the woods pressed close.
One evening, as rain pattered against the roof, you sat by the fire, leg propped up, sketching idly on a scrap of paper he’d left out: simple lines of trees and your lost herd.
Ryomen entered from outside, shaking water from his hair, his shirt clinging damply to his broad chest. He glanced at your drawing, pausing.
“You draw.” He noted, not a question.
You nodded, ears twitching. "A little, but I’m not any good. Helps... pass time."
He grunted, hanging his coat. "That yer herd?"
“Yeah… I lost them.” You whispered, tail drooping against your back.
Silence again. He poked at the fire, sparks flying. “Woods eat loners.”
You swallowed, the words hitting too close. “I know.”
He didn’t press, just ladled stew into bowls and handed you one. You ate in quiet companionship, the rain a soothing backdrop. His presence was a wall – impenetrable, but not hostile.
Subtly, you noticed things: the way his shoulders relaxed slightly when you didn’t flinch at his nearness, how he’d leave extra blankets when nights grew cold.
By the second week, you could hobble around the cabin unaided, testing your leg on short walks to the door.
The forest called to you, but fear kept you inside: fear of the wild, and oddly, of leaving this strange sanctuary.
Sukuna watched from afar, his debates internal now. Why keep her? But he did, fetching herbs from the woods to brew tea for your lingering ache.
One afternoon, sunlight filtering through the windows, you found him outside chopping wood.
The axe rose and fell with rhythmic power, muscles flexing under his shirt, sweat glistening on his tattooed skin. You lingered in the doorway, ears perked, mesmerized by the controlled strength.
He noticed, pausing mid-swing. “Leg better?”
“Yeah,” you admitted softly, stepping out gingerly. The air was crisp, pine-scented. “Thanks... for everything.”
He wiped his brow, eyes meeting yours. “Don’t mention it.”
You smiled faintly, tail swishing. “What’s it like? Living here alone.”
A shrug. “Quiet. Suits me.” He resumed chopping, but slower, as if inviting the conversation. “You? Herd’s loud, right?”
"Comforting," you admitted, leaning against the porch rail. “But yeah, noisy. Miss it sometimes.”
He nodded once, axe embedding in the block. The silence returned, comfortable now, laced with unspoken understanding. You stayed there, watching him work, the slow thaw between you beginning to crack the ice.
Days stretched into the third week. Your leg strengthened, scabs slowly fading to pink lines.
Interactions grew in tiny increments: a shared glance over breakfast, where he’d push the salt your way without asking; evenings by the fire, where you’d read an old book from his shelf while he whittled wood into shapes: abstract, fierce things that mirrored his character.
One night, thunder rumbled outside, echoing your long-ago storm. You woke sweating, ears flat, tail tucked, the dream of separation vivid. A creak in the hall: Sukuna, checking on you as he sometimes did silently.
“Bad dream?” He said from the doorway, voice rough with sleep.
You sat up, nodding. “Something like that. Just– got reminded of the herd again is all.”
He hesitated, then entered, sitting on the edge of the bed. His weight dipped the mattress, but he kept space between you. “You’re not alone now.”
The words hung, simple but weighted. Your ears lifted slightly, fluffy tail twitching. “I know.”
He stayed until your breathing evened, his presence a quiet anchor. No more words, but the gesture spoke volumes.
As the weeks waned, the awkwardness softened into something tentative, unspoken.
You’d help with small tasks: stirring pots while he hunted, your tail brushing his leg accidentally, sending a jolt through both of you. He’d grunt apologies, but his eyes lingered longer, tracing the curve of your ears, the sway of your hips as you moved.
One crisp morning, you stood at the window, gazing at the woods. Freedom beckoned, but so did the man behind you, his footsteps approaching.
“Thinking of leaving?” he asked, voice low.
You turned, meeting his gaze. "Maybe. But... not yet."
A rare smirk tugged at his lips, tattoos shifting. "Good."
The crisp mornings gave way to warmer days, the forest awakening with a subtle shift in the air. Leaves unfurled brighter greens, and the underbrush hummed with the stirrings of life.
You felt it too – a restlessness deep in your core, a warmth that bloomed unbidden as heat season edged closer. Your body, attuned to the rhythms of nature like the rest of your kind, began to respond.
It started faintly: a flush creeping up your neck when you caught sight of Sukuna across the room, your doe ears twitching more frequently, your tail flicking in short, agitated bursts.
You shifted in your seat during meals, crossing and uncrossing your legs, the wooden chair creaking under the subtle movements.
Sukuna noticed, though he gave no sign of it at first.
As a human, his senses weren’t sharpened like yours, but the cabin was small, the air thick with shared space. Your scent – earthy and sweet, like wildflowers crushed underfoot – grew stronger each day, weaving through the smells of woodsmoke and stewed meat.
It lingered on the blankets you’d borrowed, clung to the air when you passed him in the narrow hallway. He caught it one evening while sharpening his knife by the fire, the blade gliding smoothly over the whetstone.
You sat nearby, mending a tear in your sweater, your fingers fumbling slightly as another wave of heat flushed your cheeks.
He paused, the scrape of metal halting for a beat longer than usual. His eyes flicked toward you, then away, jaw clenching subtly.
The scent hit him fuller now, stirring something primal he shoved down deep. He resumed sharpening, the rhythm faster, more deliberate, as if to drown out the distraction.
“Pass the salt.” He began gruffly when you both reached for the bowl at dinner, his hand brushing yours briefly.
The contact sent a spark through you, making your tail curl tight against your thigh. You pulled back quickly, ears flattening, a soft pink tinting your skin.
“Sorry.” You squeaked, voice barely audible above the crackle of the fire.
You shifted again, tucking your legs beneath you on the couch, the movement drawing his gaze for a split second before he looked back to his plate. He grunted in response, forking into his venison without another word.
The silence stretched, heavier now, laced with an undercurrent neither of you acknowledged.
You could feel his awareness, the way his broad shoulders tensed when you stood to clear the table, your hips swaying just a fraction more than necessary as the warmth pooled low in your belly.
Nights grew warmer, the quilt too heavy some evenings. You tossed in the small bedroom, ears perked to the sounds of the cabin settling – the creak of floorboards as Sukuna moved about, the distant hoot of an owl outside.
Your scent intensified with the rising temperature, seeping under the door like an invitation you hadn’t meant to send. He lay in his own room, staring at the rafters, the air thick with it.
Human or not, it affected him: a tightening in his chest, a heat of his own that he ignored by focusing on the hunt planned for dawn.
He rolled over, groaning into the pillow, willing sleep to come.
By midweek, the signs were impossible to miss.
You found yourself lingering near him more, drawn by an instinct you couldn’t name.
While he chopped wood outside, you watched from the porch, your flush deepening as sweat traced lines down his tattooed arms, his shirt clinging to the broad expanse of his back.
Your tail swished restlessly, and you shifted your weight from one foot to the other, the ache in your leg long forgotten but replaced by this new, insistent pull.
He glanced up once, axe pausing mid-air, his nostrils flaring almost imperceptibly. The scent wrapped around him, sweet and insistent, making his grip tighten on the handle.
“Need something?” He asked, voice rougher than usual, eyes locking onto yours – all four piercing, unreadable.
You shook your head, ears drooping slightly as you stepped back inside, the door clicking shut behind you. Heart pounding, you pressed a hand to your warm cheek, wondering if he could hear the rapid beat from outside.
He swung the axe harder after that, embedding it deep into the block with each strike, the physical exertion a barrier against the growing tension.
Afternoons brought small tasks that amplified the awkwardness.
You helped sort herbs he’d gathered – drying them on racks by the window – your fingers brushing his as you passed bundles.
Each time, you flushed, shifting away with a quiet apology, your tail flicking against his leg once by accident. He froze for a heartbeat, the contact electric, your scent blooming sharper in the confined space.
“Watch it.” He warned, not harshly, but stepping back to give you room. His movements grew more deliberate, putting distance between you under the guise of efficiency.
Yet he didn’t send you away. Meals remained shared, silences filled with the subtle dance of avoidance.
One evening, as twilight painted the cabin in soft oranges, you sat by the fire, knees drawn up, trying to read but finding the words blurring. The heat simmered under your skin, making you shift restlessly, the couch cushions sighing under you.
Sukuna entered from the porch, carrying a pail of water, his frame filling the doorway. Water dripped from his hands, and he set the pail down with a thud, the sound echoing your quickened breath.
He caught the scent again, stronger now, mingling with the damp earth on his clothes. It pulled at him, testing his resolve, but he crossed to the kitchen, back turned, pouring the water into a pot with unnecessary focus.
You watched his shoulders, the way they rose and fell with controlled breaths, and felt your own flush spread, ears twitching forward. It was obvious, you knew – your shifting, the way your eyes lingered – but so was his effort to remain unaffected, the subtle clench of his fists at his sides.
“Cold out there?” You questioned softly, breaking the quiet, your voice laced with the warmth you couldn’t hide.
He glanced over his shoulder, eyes narrowing slightly. “Not really.” A pause, then he added, “you warm enough?”
The question hung, double-edged, and you nodded too quickly, tail curling around your ankle. “Yeah. Fine.”
He turned back to the stove, stirring whatever simmered there, the spoon clinking rhythmically. Neither pushed further, the tension coiling tighter in the unspoken space between you.
Heat season loomed, promising more, but for now, it simmered in glances and silences, building like the fire before you.
The days blurred into a pattern of restraint. You’d catch yourself staring when he whittled by the window, the knife carving precise lines into the wood, his large hands steady despite the undercurrent.
Your scent filled the cabin more each morning, greeting him upon waking, and he’d open the windows wider, letting the breeze carry it away – or so he told himself.
But it followed him into the woods during hunts, a ghost that made his steps heavier, his focus sharper on the prey to distract from the pull back home.
One afternoon, rain returned, soft and steady, drumming on the roof. You paced the living room subtly, unable to sit still, the flush permanent now on your skin.
Sukuna returned soaked, shaking off his coat in the entryway, water pooling at his boots. The fresh rain mixed with your scent, creating something headier, and he paused, inhaling deeply before schooling his expression.
“Wet out.” He pointed out flatly, hanging the coat and avoiding your eyes as he toed off his boots.
You nodded, shifting from foot to foot near the fire. “Smells like it.”
Your ears perked at his approach, tail swishing once before you stilled it. He moved to the hearth, adding logs with efficient motions, his arm brushing close enough that you felt the heat radiating from him.
A shiver ran through you, not from cold, and you stepped aside, cheeks burning.
He didn’t comment, just stoked the flames higher, the warmth chasing the chill but amplifying your own. Dinner passed in near-silence, forks scraping plates, your leg bouncing under the table until you caught his glance and forced it still.
Obvious wants hung in the air: yours in the flush and fidgets, his in the way he lingered at the table after, eyes tracing the fire instead of you.
As night fell, the rain a lullaby, you retreated to your room, the door a flimsy barrier. Your scent permeated everything now, a silent confession.
Sukuna sat up later, alone by the dying embers, rubbing a hand over his face. Unaffected? Hardly. But he wouldn’t act – not yet.
Heat season arrived without mercy, your body igniting from the inside out.
You didn’t fully understand it – clueless to the full implications, your deer instincts overriding any sense of propriety. The cabin felt smaller, the air thicker, and every brush of fabric against your skin sent sparks racing through you.
You paced the living room in nothing but one of Sukuna’s oversized shirts, the hem skimming your thighs, your scut wagging erratically behind you. Your ears flicked at every sound, and a persistent ache throbbed between your legs, making you shift your hips without thinking.
Sukuna watched from the kitchen, his eyes narrowing as you bent over to pick up a fallen book, the shirt riding up to expose the curve of your ass. Your scent flooded the space, heady and intoxicating, pulling at him like a tether.
You straightened, oblivious, and stretched your arms overhead, the motion arching your back and pressing your breasts against the thin fabric. Nipples hardened visibly, and you let out a soft, unwitting whimper, rubbing your thighs together as you moved to the couch.
He gripped the edge of the counter, knuckles whitening, forcing his gaze away.
“Gonna cut wood.” He decided, voice gravelly, grabbing his axe and stalking out the door before the temptation grew any stronger.
Alone, the heat clawed deeper. You tried to distract yourself, but your body betrayed you: fingers trailing absently over your collarbone, down to the hem of the shirt, lifting it slightly as you sat on the floor by the fire. Legs parted just enough to ease the pressure, you rocked subtly, a flush painting your cheeks rosy.
It wasn’t deliberate; you just needed relief from the fire building inside. When that failed, you wandered, drawn to his room by the familiar scent of him on the sheets.
Climbing onto his bed, you buried your face in his pillow, inhaling deeply. The ache intensified, and before you knew it, your hips ground down against the soft mound of fabric, a desperate friction that made your tail flag up.
Tears pricked your eyes as the motion brought fleeting sparks of pleasure, but it wasn’t enough. You humped the pillow pathetically, soft sobs escaping as your body wept for more. Clueless to how vulnerable you looked – shirt hiked up, ass in the air, ears flattened in frustration – you kept moving, chasing the elusive release.
Outside, the axe bit into wood with rhythmic thuds, each swing a release for Sukuna’s pent-up tension. Sweat beaded on his brow, his muscles flexing under inked skin, but your scent clung to him even here, a ghost in the breeze.
He worked longer than needed, trying to outrun the pull, but eventually, the pile of logs satisfied him enough to head back. The cabin door creaked open to silence: no soft footsteps, no shifting on the couch.
“Sweetheart? Where are you?” He called, voice echoing off the walls. No answer. Frowning, he checked the kitchen, the porch, then pushed open his bedroom door.
There you were, on his bed, hips rolling against the pillow in desperate, uneven thrusts. Tears streaked your face, your doe ears trembling, tail flicking in distress.
The sight hit him like a punch – your flushed skin, the way your pussy glistened with arousal, lips parted on quiet mewls. His cock twitched hard in his pants, blood rushing south as he stood frozen in the doorway.
“Kuna… mmh!” Your voice came out small, broken, as you lifted your head, eyes glassy with need. You didn’t stop moving, hips grinding down instinctively, but shame flickered in your gaze. “Help... please? It h– hurts…”
He crossed the room in two strides, the door clicking shut behind him. Towering over you, his broad frame cast a shadow, vermillion eyes dark with hunger.
“Fuck, angel…” He growled low, sitting on the bed’s edge and pulling you up by your arms.
You whimpered at the manhandling, body pliant in his grip. “W-Wait—”
“I’ve been holding back for weeks. Watching you tease without even knowing it, and that damn scent everywhere…”
His hands cupped your face, thumbs brushing away tears, and he kissed you then: gentle at first, lips soft against yours, tongue coaxing your mouth open. You melted into it, mewling softly, your hands clutching his shirt as the ache pulsed hotter.
He broke away, breathing ragged. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart. But tell me if it’s too much.”
You nodded frantically, pleading with your eyes, and he eased you back onto the bed, stripping the shirt from your body. Naked now, you shivered under his gaze, but the heat made you bold – legs parting slightly, inviting him without words.
He shed his clothes quickly, his thick cock springing free, veined and heavy, tip already leaking. Your eyes widened, clueless innocence mixing with raw want, and you reached for him tentatively.
“Gentle, pretty thing.” He murmured, praise lacing his voice as he settled between your thighs.
His large frame loomed over you, the warmth of his body contrasting the cool sheets beneath. One hand stroked your hair, fingers tangling gently in the soft strands near your deer-like ears, which twitched at the touch.
You felt exposed, your hybrid tail flicking nervously against the mattress, but his presence grounded you, making your core ache with need.
He didn’t rush to claim you fully. Instead, his free hand trailed down your side, tracing the curve of your hip, then dipping lower to your inner thigh.
“So ready f’me, aren’t you?.” Sukuna said, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through your spine.
His fingers brushed against your slick folds, and you gasped, hips bucking instinctively toward the contact. “Mmf!”
He chuckled softly, the sound dark and approving. “Easy, pretty. Don’t wanna hurt you yet..”
His thumb parted your pussy lips gently, exposing your clit to the air, and you whimpered, your antlers scraping lightly against the pillow as you tilted your head back. He watched your reactions closely, his crimson eyes intense, drinking in every quiver and soft sound you made.
“Tell me what you want.” He commanded, his tone firm but laced with that teasing edge that made your heart race.
“T-Touch me... please.” You breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation.
Your hands clutched at the sheets, nails digging in as his finger circled your entrance, gathering your wetness. He pressed one thick digit inside slowly, the intrusion stretching you just enough to make you moan.
It was nothing like his cock, but the sensation was electric, your walls clenching around him immediately.
“Like that?” Sukuna asked, his lips curving into a smirk as he crooked his finger, brushing against that sensitive spot inside you.
You nodded, a whine escaping your throat, your tail thrashing side to side. He added a second finger, scissoring them carefully to open you up, his movements deliberate and unhurried.
The stretch burned faintly, but it melted into pleasure as he began to pump them in and out, his thumb finding your clit and rubbing firm circles over it.
Your breath hitched, legs spreading wider to give him better access. “S-Sukuna... it feels... ah!”
The words dissolved into a cry as he increased the pace, his fingers thrusting deeper, curling with each withdrawal to hit that bundle of nerves again and again. Wet sounds filled the room, obscene and intoxicating, your arousal coating his hand.
He leaned down, his breath hot against your ear, nipping at the soft fur there. “You’re soaking my fingers, pretty girl. So tight and perfect for me.”
You arched into his touch, your breasts heaving with each ragged breath. His other hand left your side to cup one, thumb flicking over your nipple, pinching just hard enough to make you yelp.
The double sensations overwhelmed you: his fingers fucking into your pussy, stretching and filling you, while his mouth descended to your neck, sucking a mark into the sensitive skin where your pulse fluttered wildly.
“More... gimme– gimme more,” you begged, your voice breaking, hips grinding against his hand shamelessly.
He obliged, adding a third finger, the fullness making your eyes roll back.
“Greedy little thing, aren’t you?” He growled approvingly, his fingers pistoning faster now, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every thrust.
You could feel the pressure building, a coil tightening low in your belly, your deer ears flattening against your head as pleasure bordered on too much. Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, not from pain but from the intensity, your body trembling under him.
“P-Please..!” You
“That’s it, let go for me.” Sukuna urged, his voice husky as he watched your face contort in ecstasy.
He twisted his fingers inside you, rubbing relentlessly against your g-spot, while his thumb pressed harder on your swollen clit. The combination shattered you – your walls clamped down on his fingers, pulsing as the orgasm crashed over you like a wave.
“Mmh– Ryo!” You cried out, body convulsing, thighs quaking around his wrist as slick gushed over his hand, soaking the sheets beneath.
He didn’t stop immediately, drawing out your release with slow, gentle strokes until you whimpered from oversensitivity, your tail curling around his arm in a weak attempt to pull him closer.
“Good girl,” he praised, withdrawing his fingers with a wet pop, bringing them to his lips to taste you. His eyes locked on yours, dark with promise.
He flipped you suddenly, manhandling you onto your hands and knees with effortless strength, your body pliant under his touch. You scrambled to steady yourself on the mattress, palms sinking into the soft fabric, knees spreading wider as your tail lifted instinctively, baring yourself completely to him.
The cool air kissed your dripping folds, a brief respite before he positioned himself behind you, the head of his cock teasing your entrance.
“You want it rough, pretty thing? Begging like that.” His voice was a gravelly command, laced with amusement and hunger.
Before you could respond, his hand came down on your ass – a light slap that stung just enough to make you yelp, the impact sending a ripple through your flesh. Heat bloomed across your skin, mingling with the ache between your legs.
Then he thrust back in from behind, the new angle allowing him to sink even deeper, his cock spearing into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs.
“Oh! Kuna… so– so big!” You sobbed in pleasure, the stretch more intense now, every inch of him pressing against your sensitive spots as he bottomed out.
Your arms trembled, threatening to give out as you pushed back against him, desperate to feel him everywhere. The slap had left your ass tingling, a warm contrast to the cool sheets, and you arched your back further, presenting yourself like the submissive hybrid you were.
Ears flattening completely, you let out a string of moans, each one higher pitched as the pressure built anew. His hand moved to your antlers, tugging them firmly to guide your head up, forcing you to arch more, your neck straining in the best way.
“Hah, fuck, crying for my cock, hm? Such a good girl, taking it all.” Sukuna’s praise washed over you like liquid fire, igniting your emotions – pride in pleasing him, a deep-seated need to submit, to be his.
He kept the pull steady, not painful but insistent, making you feel owned as he rutted into you. Each thrust was deliberate, pulling almost all the way out before slamming back in, the drag of his veined length against your walls making obscene squelching noises.
Your pussy fluttered around him, juices coating his shaft and dripping down your thighs, the physical sensations overwhelming: the burn in your muscles from holding the position, the slap of his hips against your reddened ass, the way his cock throbbed inside you, hot and unyielding.
You rocked back to meet him, your tail brushing loosely against his thigh in an instinctive gesture of affection amid the roughness. The orgasm you’d felt building earlier surged closer now, coiling tight in your core, your clit throbbing untouched but stimulated by the indirect pressure of his invasions.
Sukuna’s breaths grew ragged, his hand on your hip sliding forward to press against your lower belly, feeling the bulge of his own cock moving inside you.
“Shit, you’re tight... milking me so good.” He muttered, his voice strained with his own rising pleasure. He released your hair momentarily to deliver another light slap to your other cheek, the sound sharp in the room, making you clench harder around him.
The duplicity – pain and pleasure – pushed you closer, your sobs turning into keening cries as the tension wound unbearably tight.
He tugged your antlers again, gentler this time, but enough to keep your gaze forward. His thrusts lost a bit of their rhythm, becoming erratic as he chased his release, but he didn’t let up on the depth, each one punching the air from your lungs.
You felt him everywhere: the heat of his body over yours, the possessive hold, the way his cock pulsed with impending climax.
Emotionally, it was intoxicating; you were his, completely, and the thought alone made your walls spasm.
“Gonna fill you up, angel. Pump you full until you’re bred, carrying my scent forever.”
The words made you whine, clenching harder, and you came again: shaking, tears streaming as waves crashed over you. “Ah! I’m gonna– cumming!”
He chuckled, voice strained. “Fuck, listen to you. So desperate for my cum. Nghh– an’ you’re shy now? After slutting out on my—haah—bed?”
You hid your face in the pillow, flushing deeper, but your hips ground back, asking for more without words. He pulled out briefly, flipping you onto your back once more, hooking your legs over his shoulders.
The position folded you, letting him drive in deep, balls slapping against your ass with each rough pound. His eyes – the prettiest, deepest red – locked on yours, wild and possessive. “Don’t hide, sweetheart. Want you looking at me when you cum again.”
Pleasure dumbed your mind, thoughts scattering into nothing but him – his cock stretching you, his grunts, the pull on your hair as he leaned down to capture your lips.
You came a third time, crying out his name, body convulsing as he chased his own release.
“That’s my girl.” He praised, thrusting erratically. “Milk me dry, pretty thing. Gonna breed this pussy.”
With a final, deep shove, he buried himself and came – hot spurts flooding you, his groan rumbling through his chest. You felt every pulse, the warmth spreading, and it triggered one last, shuddering orgasm from you, tears of pure bliss soaking the sheets.
He collapsed gently atop you, still inside, peppering your face with soft kisses. “Good job, angel. Took me so well.”
You panted, cockdrunk haze settling, shying into his neck with a whimper.
He chuckled tiredly, stroking your back. “Heat’s not over yet, sweetheart.”
