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bakugoushotwife · 8 months ago

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𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖔𝖓𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓

↳ cw: minors dni, dark content. proceed at your own risk. sukuna, human!sukuna, historical inaccuracies, murder, npc character death, gore, blood, knifeplay?, marriage, mentions of having children, smut, fingering (fem receiving) size kink, virginity loss, corruption kink, breeding kink, creampie, uhhh making shit up for sukuna's backstory, he's a soft husband kinda? ↳ series masterlist ↳ jjk masterlist ↳ part two

before he was a curse—he was just a man. surely unsightly and terrifying in every way; abandoned from the beginning and forced to learn how to survive the hard way—the powerful sorcerer known as ryomen sukuna had come to extinguish your clan at last. news had traveled fast from the fujiwara clan—the high ranks of the village knew what had happened there—and what would be sure to happen here. you could feel the energy shift all the way from the estate, like a dark, lightning-charged cloud had swallowed you whole. your father was the lord of this clan—the first man. as his daughter and only surviving child, you were expected to be right by his side to greet—and hopefully negotiate with the heian era’s most powerful sorcerer.

so you kneeled next to your father, head bowed deeply, nearly touching the ground. your betrothed mirrored the actions, showing respect to the man they called the disgraced one. your kimono was layered and bright–you were certainly eye-catching. sukuna always did enjoy the fanfare as he made his appearances around japan—the fear was sensational; the way villagers would plead for their lives or for the children to be spared. intoxicating. even smaller praises like this caused a smirk to blossom on his lips. supposed rulers on their hands and knees before him, all in the hopes that he would make one exception.

too bad for this small, hillside citystate. he would brutalize the women, and slaughter everyone else. well, maybe he’d hang on to a few of the women if they were obedient enough. then he’d set fire to the structures your ancestors worked so hard to erect, there would be no trace of your bloodline.

you feel the vibrations of his footsteps on the dais more than you hear them echo. “rise.”

you are the first to move, easing your hands by your sides and straightening your back. your stomach lurches. this was a man? he was humongous, nearing eight feet tall and seemingly just as wide across with a double set of hulking arms and sneering eyes. he was rippled in muscle, broad black markings wrapping around his biceps and thighs, lines scattered across his seemingly disinterested face. one of his four hands clutches a trident-shaped weapon, a second combing through his pink peony colored hair. the other set balances on his hips, carmine eyes combing over you and your reaction to him. unblinking, the both of you.

your father clears his throat, afraid you had committed the sin that would damn your clan’s village. your fiancé elbows you in the ribs to get you to stop staring, to stop blushing at the monster before you. you bite at the inside of your lip, tearing your gaze away.

what an interesting creature you were. it was hard to explain, but no one had looked at him like that before. he wouldn’t say unafraid—it was clear you knew what was potentially on the line. but you didn’t seem…disgusted. so naturally opposed and recoiling away like everyone else. like he wanted from commoners like them–like you. so why did you hold your head so high to look him in the eyes? who were you?

“my apologies, my lord,” your father bows again and then casts a glare at you. “my daughter is still learning how to be a proper lady.” he says, smiling nervously. it’s clear to you and to every one of the villagers watching how spineless your father is. even your fiancé is shaking like a leaf right next to you—embarrassing. you wouldn’t be surprised if sukuna murdered you all simply because of this pathetic showing.

his gaze just trails over to you again. he says nothing, mouth almost in a pout his lips were so downturned. you feel your body grow hot under his examination, at this point you feel it more rude to look away. that coupled with the wimpy performance your men were putting on had you raising your chin again, even splitting your cheeks into a smile. “it is ladylike to look our honored guest in the eyes.” you refute, and that has his attention. you speak out–you fight back. he’s always liked his women feisty.

that simpleton to your immediate right puts a hand on your arm, gentle eyes begging for you to keep your mouth shut. your eyes narrow in argument, and before you can speak again…the said guest speaks.

“what do you want.” his voice is a silky deep pulse, bored in every way. your father starts to wring his hands.

“your excellence, we would be of your greatest debts if you would consider sparing our people…i-i-in exchange for whatever you may desire!”

how pathetic. and absolutely stupid. “do you think you are the first to ask mercy of me? or do you think i owe you a favor…? i have the means to take what i want. i am wasting time even entertaining your stupid pleas.” he seems so aggravated–it’s such a shallow solution. he could request every woman in the village—he could take the lord’s daughter in front of everyone here and now. boring—where’s the creativity? clearly the man didn’t care for his people with more effort than this half-baked plan—

“my lord, if you’ll excuse me weighing in..” you say, your satin voice wrapping around his very thoughts. “you’ve conquered every territory that you have set your eyes upon. if we yield our lands and our rule to you with peace…we could assist with trade and labor.” you hum, hands folded before your stomach. your painted lips are pursed, he can tell even you are annoyed with the lame fodder your father provides. sukuna enjoys your boldness–even if women are oftentimes if not usually the weakest beings present, you seem to carry the intellect of your clan. but your father has had enough interruption.

“insolent woman!” your father says, turning to spew more, but it doesn’t come. you hear a blade whip against the wind, and he’s decapitated at the mouth, his body falling toward you with a sloshy thud. the crowd screams–your fiancé leaps back in horror. your body twitches with surprise, a splatter of blood painting your cheek.

“waste of skin and bones and my precious air.” sukuna sneers, his attention now fully crowned upon you—the new leader of your village. you turn away from the cross section of your father’s face and towards the man that did it without moving a muscle. no, it was his technique—a set of words that made it effortless. you can’t tell if it’s shock or genuine gratefulness that floods your veins. “is this your husband?” the conqueror asks, jutting his chin towards the man cowering behind you. his eyes nearly glow with something you would call excitement.

you were your father’s only child–and regrettably a woman. you had no say in your betrothed. heaven knows you wouldn’t have picked the coward using you as his shield. you had no say in a lot of things—but maybe thanks to this vile man, your luck may have changed.

“he is promised to be.” you answer, the unpleasant cock of your jaw when you answer tells the demonic sorcerer all he needs to know regarding your affection for him. his smirk grows into a genuine smile—pointy white teeth flashing at you. something about him makes your insides bubble. and not in a way akin to fear.

“he is an utter embarrassment.” he snorts, and you smirk for only the faintest second. “very well. i shall accept your proposal. your people can live if you serve me. you will be the crown ruler.” he steps closer, body towering over you and heat radiating between you both in proximity. you don’t step back, and a certain hunger develops in his vision. you’re fiery, even bold enough to meet with him without flinching. you are impressive, even down to your cursed energy. “what is your technique?”

“black widow…i have webs, poison, and superior…childrearing capabilities.” you redden only slightly when you have to explain the perks of your technique. it’s an ancient one, known to form powerful breeds in the past as well as stand on its own in battle. his eyes turn feral, and his undressing gaze is shameless this time as he looks over your body. you are an interesting little thing indeed, and if he hopes to take over this world…he will need a strong wife to produce a long line of strong heirs to forever rule. you are beautiful and spirited.

one of his hands reaches for your face, two thick and calloused fingers tilting your chin up higher so he may see your face in its entirety. yes, you would make good heirs for him. they would be plenty attractive if they took after you as well, something crucial for the success of his bloodline. your cheekbones are shapely and your eyes set in a beautiful bedroom stare. your lips are pouty and full, teeth perfectly indenting your fatter bottom one. his touch is searing your skin in a way you’ve never known. he is at least three times your size and a mystical beast in your world…and your insides are throbbing at his closeness. you’ve never experienced this with your fiancé.

you look at him in a way that’s foreign. he doesn’t know quite what to make of it, except that he enjoys it. he smirks, eyes trailing to your body. it’s covered by the many layers of your kimono, but if your chest was any indication—you’d have no issues bringing heirs for him either. his fingers tighten around your chin, pressing your cheeks together. it pouts your red-painted lips, and you giggle at the carnal enjoyment he seems to get from it.

“u-unhand my b-be-betrothed!” your cowardly fiancé finally says. peeking over your shoulder.

sukuna never looks away from you, only thrusting his trident out into flesh—into the face of the man you’re supposed to marry. he didn’t drop his hold on you, keeping you from looking at the gore.

“you’ve a new betrothed, little thing.” he grins cockily, admiring how you never got fully to your feet. your father had been dumb enough to do so–and your fiance decided to challenge the wrong man at the wrong time. but you, you only rose to your knees, thick lashes batting up at him, one hand still occupied in cupping your soft skin. the trident lowers to your face–not an aimed weapon. a gift. he grins, teeming with insatiable desire and excitement. his mind was made up ages ago–the moment you spoke. he has found his wife, and now he wants her to accept him wholly–to perform for him and him only. “clean the hiten.”

the flame climbing in his eyes made you tingle, even sent a wave of vertigo to your head. you feel the need to please him, the idea of becoming his bride was desirable to no one more than you. he had freed you from a life of serving your father and miserable husband-to-be. he was a powerful ruler–the most feared man alive. and he was strikingly beautiful to you, hence the craze in your stomach when he looks at you in this way. you have always liked to play with fire and the unknown. with your entire clan watching, you lean forward and flatten your tongue against the sharp metal of his weapon. the steel is cool, and the wet liquid warm. if not for the temperature difference, you may not have been able to tell the blade from the blood.

oh he could give you an heir right here. the seductive nature you possess, on your knees and looking up at him so obediently, tongue out and splattered with blood so red it outmatched your lipstain. his thumb strokes your cheekbone, his grin turning wicked. this shall be the capital of his new kingdom, and he would build his legacy alongside you—the perfect mate, handcrafted just for him. clearly, no other man would have been enough to satiate you anyhow. the wife of a man such as he would be widely revered and respected, by none more than himself. he would give you a proper ceremony, he would give you the next little prince or princess once your souls have been bound, and no sooner, even if it’s a torture to himself. it’s a gift he could spare for the woman he shall keep forever. “we will marry by the new moon.”

you lick your lips, leaning back with a nod, “it is my honor, my lord.” you bow your head again, but even that doesn’t hide the eager smile on your lips. you have to be the weirdest woman alive—and it intoxicates him. he leans in, one hand tilting your chin back up to meet his bedroom gaze.

“no. from today on—i am a king. and you…will be the queen of my hard work. and you all,” he turned to your people–now an integration of his own people, “are invited to the wedding.” his sarcastic voice carries over the crowd. he is smug, but you can tell the pride is real. this is…more than mere conquest for him. he would not marry you for sport. something in your heart softens at this, at his proclamation. you know you do not need to fear him at all.

“we will get straight to organizing the ceremony.” you nod, waving in some guards to clear the bodies. no one in the congregation moves–no one speaks. you have to look closely to make sure anyone is even breathing. the silence insults you. you know they’re scared–but can’t they see? this union has saved their lives—has turned them from peasants to lords and ladies in their own right. upon seeing the angry look on your face, your new husband-to-be hoists you to your feet, red eyes zeroed in on the men dragging the corpses away–threatening them to comply.

“you should be celebrating. if my father had continued down his path, we would all be dead! now, you’ll flourish! you should be championing his graciousness!” you announce, the showing of your own spirit only cemented his decision. no concubine of his could stand in your shadow—and he has hardly even touched you. his chest…it was tightening right where his heart was. sukuna never realized affection could cause such physical sensation, but it wasn’t a bad one. he was just acclimating to this, to wanting someone around. to wanting this life after being alone for so long. but he saw it when he looked in your eyes. he saw the future he could have, he felt a fraction of the love, of the completion you will bring to his life. he had long moved on from the concept of love. even sneered at the mere mention of such a hideous joke. his own parents hadn’t loved him. who possibly could?

and why was it a little girl from a random village carved out of the side of a hill outside of the big city? why was it a girl with an ancient powerful technique that had the nerve to look him in his eyes and smile kindly? he didn’t mind not knowing why. as long as this is true. as long as you become his queen and promise to give him your all. the sound of your people cheering his name catches his attention, your sweet face looking at him in wait, such pride on your features. you were giving him your all right in this very moment. yes. the month could not turn quickly enough.

however, ryomen sukuna found that the thirteen days you had to organize some sort of ceremony were well worth the wait. you still spent everyday together, showing him your admittedly beautiful lands and estate, though he spent much of the time planning the renovations to truly make the place fit for royalty. you could hardly believe this was the man of legend, the evil and cruel sorcerer that had even his own kind running the other way sooner than fight him. if he hadn’t slaughtered two men in front of you, you’d be like to dispel those stories entirely. sukuna is…harsh, and rough around the edges, yes. but you can tell it’s more out of routine combined with his cluelessness. he doesn’t know how to be a husband, and he worries if he will be a quick enough learner. all internally, of course. he would not share such insecurities with anyone. it was hard enough to find a willing lover—a wife! you saw past his looks, even his base beastial nature…so could he run you off if he wasn’t a good enough listener or was too protective?

you planned picnics in gardens and walks along the forests. you showed him nests of baby bunnies and crouched in bushes to feed doe. you planted potatoes and peonies alike, and he was enchanted by you. your soul—he felt like he could see it at times. like a bright glow in your chest, a happy yellow that gave you such an angelic glimmer he couldn’t believe that you of all people held such tremendous power over him, such a dark and devastating omnipotence that had never lost a battle. except this one. laying amongst a bed of moss by a lake, your tiny frame snuggled into his side, secured by his right two arms. the sun has started its retreat, the hazy pink and orange complimenting the natural brightness you possess, the black widow of darkness that you are–still shining like the day. it seems you know how to sort your powerful black away from your brilliant brightness—an impressive split to you that he admired; the power to control yourself–to not be consumed as he has been.

the frogs croak in a pitchy symphony, but you’re as happy as can be. you brought a book, one you’ve been reading to him all day. he found the sound of your voice peaceful, the lively way you theorized and asked his opinions was as entertaining as the story itself. under the leafy willow trees, he almost didn’t feel like a bad man at all. he almost felt reborn, at peace. in love. he had accepted this but had not yet said it. it was clear to you that he felt it anyway. a man like him would not tolerate you in the way he does if he was not crazy about you.

the book snaps closed and you’ve turned on your side so that you could meet his eyes. “we’re getting married tomorrow.” you say with a breathy gasp, your smile mending his very soul every time he witnesses it. he nods, giving you that same deadpan look he normally does.

“yes, this is true.” he raises a brow, prompting you to say more. his head is propped up on one of his arms, the other hand caressing your cheek as he is prone to do.

“well–aren’t you excited?” you huff, knowing damn well he just expresses himself with a certain…emotional stuntedness. if the man had it his way, you’d be a week into your honeymoon by now.

“of course, you pest. you have been mine since the day i arrived—but i will be grateful to make this official and binding.” he hums, pinching your cheek affectionately. you scrunch your nose and balance an arm on his chest, crawling closer still. the adoration–that’s it, the foreign look in your eyes. it’s adoration—it makes his own chest flutter. a feared man—now bowed to a mere tiny woman. he’s annoyed by himself, so he rolls his eyes as you approach.

you match the gesture, raising a brow. “how romantic, my beloved.” you snicker, and this time he tugs your hair. “hey! i meant all the eye rolling and grumbling!” you squeal, laughing. he didn’t pull hard enough to hurt–just to annoy you like you annoy him.

“brat of a woman. seems tonight’s sleep alone will be my last peaceful one.” he smirks, closing his eyes to enjoy the peaceful scene–even if you two are mercilessly taunting each other. he appreciated the humor.

you scoff, playfully pouting. “only cause you’ll be so enticed by me every night–”

it was his turn to scoff. “you couldn’t handle me every night. you’re an idiot.” he says, peeking an eye open to see you scowling at him. even that was ridiculously cherished to him.

“tch–you don’t know for certain. but i will be pleasing my husband every time he needs.” you purr, holding his eyes. it was only now that it hit him; you are attracted to him. you’re not looking past his grotesque form, you love what you see. until now, he assumed the power and promise of safety was enough, the companionship he could provide. but no, no, that adoration has always been there. that want, since the day you seduced him in the first place.

“mm. i’m sure. i have no doubts, kozō.” he hums, his deep voice a comfort to you–as well as the lazy grin that spreads across his features when you lean up to bite his bicep—well what parts of it you could fit in your mouth.

the next day, he was the first to arrive to the scene of your ceremony. it was nicer than most, even he knew that. weddings of the time were often not love related at all. just practical arrangements between the aristocrats. so there were no cheering townspeople, no lofty ceilings and stuffy rooms. just the sakura tree with her leaves rustling in the sweet gentle breeze that blew through the gardens as he strolled up to it, following your cherry blossom path to his spot. it was scenic–he should have known that you would opt to marry in the open, in love with the outdoors as you are. the sky is so clear today, another good omen in his eyes. you didn’t leave him waiting long, a different kind of rustling catching his attention—coming from the corner of his eyes.

there you are, in all your beauty. jūnihitoe and all, you looked every bit the queen you would soon become. your heavy layers sway with you as you walk to meet him, that sweet grin pulling at your cheeks that makes his skin crawl–in a good way. he reaches hands out to greet you, and you slide your hand into the one nearest you–his bottom right. you are stunning, even your makeup was subtle, only highlighting your mesmerizing beauty. there wouldn’t be another girl like you for a thousand years.

“my king,” you greet, your voice like liquid gold. “finally, our big day.” you grin even wider–toothy and precious. it betrays just how excited you are, and has sukuna giving you a rare grin of his own, lopsided as it was—you squeeze his hand in appreciation, grabbing his lower left too.

“my queen,” he hums back, bringing his eyes back to your face, “you look beautiful. are we married yet?” he raises a brow, earning a giggle from you. it seems he must be excited as well.

“well you would traditionally have to kiss me to really seal the union.” you tuck your cheek to your shoulder, fluttering those lashes at him in that adorable way you do. he rolls his eyes–too overwhelmed at the warmth that courses through his veins just from looking at you. it’s nearly pitiful. he uses his free hands to cup your cheeks, towering frame leaning down to mash his lips on yours. it’s hard, and you can feel the nip of his teeth, but it’s perfect. he softens into it a second later, his hands dropping yours in favor of gripping your hips, pulling you closer. all you can feel is him; muscles and warm skin–wandering hands and wet mouths gasping for breath every so often just to instinctually pull and lean closer to each other, until your skin is too hot under the layers of your dress and you need relief.

you step back, cheeks flushed, taking your swollen lip between your lip–seemingly thinking of what you want to say. that simple expression has all the blood rushing to his cock, a simple grunt spilling past his lips. he knows what that look means despite this being his first experience, it’s carved into the very marrow of his bones; it’s time to put an heir in you. he steps forward again to close the distance, chest heaving against yours. “your quarters, now.”

you nod slowly, so impatient and needy you can barely stand it—the walk to your room has your knees wobbling. you can feel his intense stare focused on your back–and his cock pressing into it too. your tongue is producing more saliva than usual, head already a little dizzy just from the imagination of what would come next. the heavy doors of your private chambers close with a prominent thud, and his hands cover your frame in seconds. he’s exploring, you realize, combining rough and soft presses over your body with one set of hands; using the other to help you out of those pesky robes. you’re still pressed to his chest, your now bare back soaking in the stability of his decorated abdomen. you can see the pile of fabric on the floor, his hands now pawing at your breasts—feeling them in his palms, pinching and toying with the nipples, chuckling in satisfaction as they harden in his fingers. paired with your pleasurable gasps, he doesn’t have to ask if you like it. your head rolls back to look up at him, leaning all your weight back to give yourself over fully, trusting his will with your body.

he gently shoves you toward your bed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stand much longer. as soon as your back hits the silk below you, his figure looms above you, standing between your legs that dangle off of the plush mattress below you. “my wife…” he muses, fingers trailing down your thighs, undergarments vanishing next. you look so inviting, so warm, it was fitting for a woman like you. he’s read books—he’s not braindead. he has researched the human body–the woman’s body—extensively in his spare time. like any skilled warrior, he had to come prepared for battle. above all, he trusted himself to know what to do to please his queen, and he trusted you to be vocal enough to assist him along the way. his hands slide back up over the swells of your thighs, creeping closer to your cunt, you suck in a sharp breath as his fingers ghost along your clit, tracing his way down your lips, splitting them…everything was slow…exploratory. it still felt shocking and nice, his touch in general had you buzzing—but he’s learning how to touch you, seeing the shift of your brow has his fingers moving faster, confidence bolstered by your little gasps as he rubs little circles over your nerves. his own desire was quickly mounting—outweighing his wishes to be careful and please his new wife. you were a strong woman anyhow, no? you wouldn’t have captured his soul in the way you did if you couldn’t handle the brunt of his devotion, after all…

so his fingers move faster, his top set of hands sliding up your abdomen to knead at your breasts—making your eyes widen at the new rush of pleasure that comes with the simple tweaks and pulls of your nipples coupled with the foreign delicious tingle his calloused fingers evoke with the perfectly timed circles he rubs over your pussy.

“oh—it burns,” you whine, placing a hand over your stomach. he only grins in response, hovering between your legs like a ravenously wild animal, the devilish glint in his eye had every part of that burning fire growing and licking your insides. he finds it so cute that you don’t even know what you’re experiencing, that he gets to give you your first pleasure ever. the sadistic side of him relishes that look of confusion on your face as your orgasm takes you by surprise, your breathy moans are truly the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard—and he thinks that maybe all the pain and suffering was actually worth it; if this is his reprieve. if your soft body and loving eyes would be waiting for him everyday, then surely he would learn how to be the perfect partner for you, and this night is all about the beginning of learning.

it’s a bliss like you’ve never known, a slight fog coming over your brain and vision as your body pulses with delirium, lightning like sparks running through your very chakra, heart picking up again as he lifts your legs to his hips and lets his pants fall to the floor. all you feel is a warm, wet rod of skin resting against your fluttering cunt, but his view is much better. his wide, lengthy shaft is going to tear your virgin hole apart, the angry red tip was oozing—needy. he was just as bad as you, having fantasized about this moment since the day you licked the blood from his blade. you squirmed impatiently beneath him, whining out.

“i’m ready, don’t think too hard.” you giggle softly, knowing something of what to expect. it was to hurt, make you sore—but with time and the proper readying, you would be fine. you could feel your own fluids sliding down the crack of your ass, so you knew you were prepared. “i know it’s gonna sting—but i want to make you feel good…” you nod again, holding around the wrists of his upper pair of arms, which hold your face in their hands. his lower set keeps your legs secured on either side of his hips, and it’s clear you don’t know the inner war waging inside his mind. does he give into his desires and likely destroy your little cunt or does he rein it in and learn how to please you fully…perhaps both are achievable. he is an expert and a warrior–now a king! he can take what’s his and find the pleasure for himself that lurks between your legs.

with your boasts of preparedness, he leans back and sheaths his fat cock in your walls, snapping his pelvis into your hips. you wail out, legs jerking back in his hands, head thrashing from side to side. tears instantly cloud your eyes, and he loves it. the glossy look you give him, full of cock for the first time, he carved it into memory. your hands claw at his beefy biceps, unable to process the shocking pressure you feel all of a sudden. it truly does sting, and you feel yourself squeeze down around the foreign object in order to fully relax. he seems to wait until your squirming stops, until your pussy waves the white flag of surrender and acclimates to his size.

“there, you really can fit it all.” he muses, seemingly impressed. you whine softly, words dying in your throat as the tears finally slip past your waterline. he leans in to lick them off your face, long tongue pointedly tracing the salty line up your skin, making you gasp at the sensation. he finally starts to move, short strokes hammering into the little flap keeping him from bullying his cock any further. he grunts out in satisfaction, your tight cavern was obviously made for him with the way you clutch so perfectly around his dick—nothing could compare to the liquid smoke rolling through his body at this very moment, his hips pulling back further as you loosened your grip around his arms, soft moans pouring from pouty lips. “you look so wonderful like this, wife of mine.”

he meant it to, your breasts jumping with every force of his cock, your gorgeously arranged hair now spread out around your head like a built in spotlight, cheeks darkened with heat and eyes rolled back in your head—body overcome with all the ecstasy. he shifts your legs to his shoulders, earning a sharp cry as he leans in, folding you in half and slamming himself into your cervix just to growl angrily at the stoppage. you’re sure you’re seeing colors that don’t exist, floating orbs of color melding your vision, you go cross-eyed. his cock drags through your walls, letting you feel every vein and ridge to the appendage. his hands held your hips, using your own curves as leverage to make you scream even louder—that burning stretch building its way up in your stomach again.

“sukuna!” you yelp, hugging around his neck. your pleas drive him wild. he knew it was attainable, to fuck you like he wanted and give you everything you had ever wanted too. he presses his lips to your neck, nipping and sucking—fully nibbling and biting to leave marking bruises. the tickling pain has your legs jerking and pussy spasming out of control, the clamping rhythm causing your husband to groan your name in response to your chant of his own.

“cum for me again, so i may fill you with my heirs.” he demands, his voice a gravelly purr against the shell of your ear. lightning strikes again, and you have no choice but to obey his command—the idea of growing his children too appealing to ignore. you were so worth waiting for–but he was now greedy and impatient, he would breed you daily, needing you to be round and hobbling before the year’s end. marriage was step one of claiming his woman, impregnating her was another, and your cute cries of begging only made his cock throb inside your choking heat.

“yes!! oh–gonna cum for you, love you so much—give you a whole army’a heirs if you wan’!” you babble back, your brain nearly oozing out of your ears as you melt into the pillow, legs trying to close around his hips, body violently tossing and turning with the force of your second orgasm. he watches how your face scrunches up and your mouth drops open–your little hand pushing at his chest as if you couldn’t possibly take one more stroke of his cock—but you must. he holds your hand against his heart, rolling his hips forward. the little ring of frothy blood at the base of his cock has his own orgasm crashing over him like a tidal wave.

“good little wife, now don’t spill a drop.” he grunts, leaning back to let your body twitch as he uses the warmth of your cum to move without resistance, heaving a deep sigh, his lip between his teeth as he stills—warmth spilling inside of you that eases all the aching, flooding you with relief. it feels so good you moan a little from that alone, swiveling your hips to instinctively milk his weepy cock dry. he assists you, smirking. he knows the monster he’s just created, and now he’ll never get away with cumming anywhere but your gorgeous cunt. his hands map out your curves, his cock plugging you full. he meant what he said. one hand slides up further, petting your hair back. he can’t fight the lopsided smile on his face as he watches your pinched brows ease, your heaving chest calm. you finally open your sleepy eyes, grinning up at him. you were ethereal.

“lay down, want to snuggle.” you whine out in demand. and what kind of husband could deny such a powerful request? it’s easy for two of his hands to slide under each thigh, the other supporting your back as he rolls the two of you over. you grin in satisfaction, leaning up to kiss the corner of his mouth. “that was amazin’...feels so good to..make love.” you giggle a little shyly. his fingers toy with the ends of your hair, a lazy smile on his lips as well.

“mm, it does. you are the perfect woman for a man like me.” he says with as much gentleness as you’ve ever heard from him. your eyes sparkle and that only makes his heart squeeze uncomfortably again. another hand rubs circles against your bare back, and he nods his head to his chest. “rest now, little queen.”

you give him another toothy grin and bury your face against his pillowy chest, dainty fingers tracing the black lines decorating his skin. he never pulls out of you, just as soothed by the feeling of you as the reverse. he’s not sure who fell asleep first, but he does know he cannot wait to wake tomorrow morning. there’s coronations to plan.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @secondos-slut @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul + reply in the comments to be tagged!!

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bakugoushotwife · 5 months ago

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𝖘𝖔𝖚𝖑 𝖇𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖉 // 𝖙𝖍𝖗𝖊𝖊: 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖈𝖚𝖗𝖘𝖊𝖘

a/n: here is the finale to part one!! thanks to everyone being patient with me to get this part out, i've been going thru it lately but we got her done. i haven't proofread everything but will as it goes live, just kinda wanted to put it up. this shit gets dark so proceed at your own risk. cw: gore, blood, murder, major character death, infanticide, smut, cowgirl, pregnancy journey, serious graphic descriptions, etc. dead dove do not eat. series masterlist jjk masterlist part two

he grips your forearms, pink lips parted in disbelief. his touch is gentle, eyes gleaming with emotions yet unnamed. “again. say it once more.” he whispers, seemingly searching for the physical signs already as his eyes dance around your stomach.

“i’m pregnant, the healer confirmed it–our heir. he or she is coming!” you laugh in astonishment, a gentle warmth blushing across your cheeks. he pulls you against his broad chest within the next second, a myriad of thoughts occurring in his brain all at once. his wife–his queen, was with child. he was no longer the man he was cursed to be. he was loved by you, and would soon become a father to a loving baby of his own creation. a monster he may be, but solitude had lost its grasp on him, and he would never feel guilt for his monstrous ways now. not with a family to protect. a family. ryomen sukuna—head of a family.

you nuzzle your face against his neck, and his heart physically aches with the emotion he stores in it for you. surely this is something much stronger than love. no one could ever feel as strongly as he does. he sighs softly. comfortably, and sets you back on your feet with a soft chuckle that rumbles inside both of your chests.

“what wonderful news—outstanding news, my love…you have made me the happiest man...what a gift..” he says in a voice nearly foreign to you with its overwhelming gentleness. it conflicts with the look in his eyes. it’s hard to describe—the love and adoration he’s always held is there, with something else lying beneath. a certain icy cruelty that you know he’s capable of—a primal protectiveness. yes, gone were the days of leaving you in the throne room or bed chambers by yourself to be waited on by uraume and the rest of the staff. no, no. he would be attached to you like a second soul, as if you weren’t growing one already.

he just couldn’t bear to risk it. especially as the building plans commenced and more strangers would be around his wife than ever before. his nerves were…heightened so to speak. you didn’t want to call it paranoia, as you can understand exactly where his concerns come from. he’s never cared for anyone. not even a fucking little bit, and now he has an entire universe of feelings stored inside of one person—seperate from himself. it’s terrifying. it’s vulnerable in ways he hates to admit, for any one of his enemies that knows of your existence knows exactly how to break him apart. all the sorcerers he’s wronged, all of the families of those he has personally extinguished—they all have a way to enact revenge. they all have a clear path to ripping his heart out of his chest, and it’s a fate worse than death. even the thought of you falling into enemy hands is enough for sukuna to erect gates with enchantments and veils, laying traps of his own mind’s invention all around the palace grounds to ensure your home remains a free territory for you and his baby.

his baby. his son or daughter growing fruitfully within you. only three people know of the baby’s existence—you, him, and uraume. and this is how the list would stay until it is simply unavoidable. he will cater to your every need himself; and no one else should enter within ten feet of you unless they want to lose their heads. he makes this much clear, announcing the decree to his castle staff. of course they’re curious as to why they can no longer serve their queen–but any questions they have die on their tongues with the feral tone of commands from their king.

you think it’s all a bit much, but you wouldn’t say anything against his wishes. this is what helps him rest peacefully at night, what makes him believe you are totally and wholly safe. besides it’s more relaxing this way. the only hustle and bustle is about the additions to your home, no servants nagging you about the certain tinctures and powders you should be taking to support your baby through the pregnancy; nor them cooing about how dominant and healthy king sukuna’s offspring would be. no. it’s just the two of you and the moment. the first few months were rocky—much more negative than positive with your symptoms and struggles. your husband was a rock amidst the nausea-inducing waters. he may not be inspirational or motivational in his words, and he may not know simply from instinct alone how to comfort you; but do not mistake that for neglect. he is ever curious, and attentive. he can tell when you need something…he just needs you to help him along as to what for the first few weeks into this beautiful journey.

he’s quick to provide you a trash receptacle or to rush after you as you run into the bathroom to puke. he’s the one holding a cool rag to the back of your neck and keeping your hair out of the way, the sound of your seemingly endless retching tugging at his heart. he learns that the term “morning sickness” is really a lie—you’re sick at all hours of the day. he nearly feels guilty over your suffering, keeping you hydrated on water and coconut milk for extra nutrients. you aren’t keeping much food down, but he tries to make sure you’re offered plenty of it. going into the second month of your weak exhaustion and pathetic puking, he’s growing more than concerned.

“i’m calling the doctors, my queen is suffering far too much.” he announces, using a rag to dab the sweat off your forehead as the toilet receives yet another round of your stomach’s contents. another hand fashions your hair into some sort of ponytail, and the other two stabilize your hips. you shake your head, leaning back to sit on your haunches as you wipe your mouth.

“it’s perfectly normal. i’ll enter the second trimester soon, hopefully it will stop then.” you say, chipper. he finds it confusing how you can clearly feel so bad but pretend otherwise. your child isn’t even showing in you yet, you only look as if you’ve had a large dinner. and while you’re ridiculously adorable in this slightly swollen state, he’s left mystified by how such a small babe can disrupt everything about your body. your appetite increases and wanes depending on the day, you cry over a fallen bird's nest and then threaten to light him aflame. it’s a lot for him to wrap his head around, as someone who’s never really been well versed in emotions to begin with. but he is patient above all else—and that’s just fine with you. he’s there for every mood swing, he lets you beat on his chest and yell at him–he lets you crawl into his lap and hold yourself close, to giggle and kiss all over his face only to whisper how horny you are.

at least that much is the same. if anything, it’s increased. and while sukuna has never been a delicate man, nor a submissive one—he is a somewhat changed man. his wife–only for his wife. he can tame the desire to absolutely fuck you apart for the sake of your growing child—he doesn’t know what exactly your body can handle at this time, despite what he may crave. but…you know what you can handle, don’t you? he…can allow you to use his body in this way too. it’s the least he can do, really. he knows he’s not the most caring man in the universe. frankly, he’s spent many a time thinking you deserve someone much more loving and doting than he. but you bask in the love that does flow from him, and your body is being used to grow his offspring. so yes, he clears the throne room of contractors and servants and architects making last minute adjustments, adding rooms fit for children to thrive in and his family to gather in; all because his precious wife made an appearance demanding his attention. yes, he lets you position yourself against his lap and rut against him at your own pace, grinding on his thigh while you beg for his hands to toy with your tits.

“please–i need more, my king~” you pout, pawing at his wrists, dragging them up to your chest.he finds you enchantingly adorable, and this neediness is such a good look on you. not being able to throttle you nearly makes his bones ache, but he uses his lower set of hands to guide your hips over his defined thigh–his top set of hands giving into his sweet wife’s desires.

and he always knows exactly how to touch you. he kneads at your breasts, the sore fat of your tits melting into his hands so perfectly you hiss and let your head fall back, rolling across your shoulders at just the simple enjoyment of his fingers tweak at your swollen nipples. he loves how sensitive you’ve become, how your brows pinch together and your cheeks darken the closer you get to soaking your panties. he knows you’ll plunge yourself on his cock over and over again–letting him coat your insides with the seed that’s already taken root in your gorgeous little womb.

“of course. my naughty little queen can’t sleep without her husband’s cock pressing into her?” he coos, the words so taunting but so loving at the same time. you howl with excitement, ripping his pants down after several seconds of effort, your animalistic growls of need so pleasing to his ears and ego. you take as much of his cock inside as you can, thighs tightening at the effort.

“mm–nuh uh, can’t help it–just need you all the time!! ‘s your fault–you did this to me!” you pout, bottom lip swollen from the amount of times your teeth have dug into it. your belly, just barely bloated with the sign of pregnancy, just glistens in the candlelight of his throne room, everything about you was calling out to him—as always. he doesn’t know why the sensation still surprises him every now and again. so he helps you, hands on your waist to help lift you up and down along the shaft of him, watching your face contort and ease with bone-deep pleasure. “oh, yessss~”

your hands scramble to hold something, his wrists, his chest–anything with purchase as your orgasm shakes through your entire body. he only uses your tight walls for a few more lengthy strokes, erupting thick white ropes that paint your insides in the best way–the way that makes your legs tremble and buckle, so spent from your attempts at riding him that you’re leaning into his chest and closing your eyes to sleep. this has been your routine for about three weeks now, not that he minds.

but the second trimester…oh how golden. this was the first time that sukuna really understood the beauty of pregnancy. with all of the nights of puking and bad sleep and weird cravings and mood swings and the list goes on—he was wondering what exactly was the big glow with babymaking aside from your sex drive and the overall concept that you get a baby out of it. but now, as your bump develops and grows everyday, as your energy evens out somewhat and all you want to do is nest and decorate for the baby—he gets it. uraume brings bigger robes so you may dress comfortably, and sukuna passes along your every demand to the builders. the baby’s nursery is being painted by hand, the crib by the finest carpenters that japan has to offer. sukuna wouldn’t be sukuna of course unless he threatened to kill every worker on the project if they spilled the news of what they were working on to a single soul.

the fields outside the palace have become your favorite place to be. you enjoy laying in the sun, plucking the wildflowers that grow on the hillside and weaving them into a flower crown, and watching the animals sprint around in the treeline below. sukuna would watch from the castle some days, letting you bask in nature under his careful oversight. some days he joins you, listening to you prattle about the birds that like the sugar water you lay out. the peace that you bring to his life is something astounding. he never would have imagined himself enjoying listening to someone so bubbly and optimistic. you have always been a light he had never known existed, and he sees you as a literal angel. the way the summer skies cast a glow down on you—glowing up your hair and skin and highlighting that beautifully round bump.

this day, he sits outside with you–watching you lean back, robes unbound to drink in some more sun. he’s proud that he’s able to make it such a safe place for you–your happy place. you can hear him approach, a joyful grin spreading across your face as you look over at him.

“the baby knows you’re here~” you coo, supporting the underside of your rounded bump. the king lays beside you, a smirk on his face at the greeting. “say hello to your spawn.” you add, snickering. and dutifully so, he leans in and places his hand on your stomach. the broad paw spans most of the stretched skin, life and wonder sparkling in his ruby red eyes as he feels it, the repeated soft flutters against his palm make his heart skip a beat. his son or daughter is so active, and very strong. and they seemingly feel him, like you claimed. they like his voice and his touch, his gentle brush of his hand inspiring another tirade of kicks that send you giggling.

it just makes things that much more real for him. his child is on the way, halfway grown already. he can’t wait to meet them, to see if they resemble you or himself more closely, to have a mini-him to take under his wing and entrust his philosophy to. he can’t wait to watch you be a mother either. just what his limited imagination can conjure up warms the coldness in his chest. the idea of you swirling around a sweet nursery with the baby smiling with gums and lips, cheeks rosy from being so loved.

“hello, little baby of mine.” sukuna hums, leaning down to kiss below your navel.

you smile sweetly, eyes crinkled in the corners. “we need to think of names!” you hum, running your fingers through his hair. it soothes you to have him so near, your protector and greatest advocate. he hums at the feeling, resting his chin on your breastplate, right before the swell of your stomach. those eyes melt you every time, especially when they look at you with such fondness.

“their name will come to us when we look upon their face. no need to rush.” he hums softly, rubbing your stomach absentmindedly. he hadn’t even realized he was doing it.

“i suppose so, but i would like to call them something aside from the baby.” you hum, twisting the pale pink strands around your fingers, wondering if your child would get this uniquely colored hair.

“then let’s call them ayame, for now.” he decides, the corners of his lips twitching upwards in a smile. the word has so much significance in love and beauty, and he knows it’s the right one to bestow upon his unborn.

“you’re so sweet, i love it. ayame–for now.” you hum once more–nodding your agreement, resting your hand atop his own. before long, the sun begins to set and the king ushers you inside for dinner—relieved your appetite returned.

everyday after that was just as beautiful. you worked tirelessly daily to craft ayame’s clothes, knitting in neutrals to ensure the pieces would suit either gender of child. your excitement grows with your stomach, and so does sukuna’s protectiveness. you hardly use the bathroom by yourself. your pregnancy is now common knowledge amongst the castle staff–widespread across your kingdom. so naturally, sukuna is even more scrutinous of anyone coming in and out. the construction is nearly complete, but enemies could be lurking anywhere. and no one is more aware of that than your husband.

he’s more than relieved whenever the construction reaches its final days as you’re about to pop. he still hovers, don’t misunderstand, but he can take a breath. any day now, you’d go into labor and the heian era’s new prince or princess would make their grand entrance. the nursery was fully prepared and the doctors and midwives had arrived as the construction workers were leaving, everything was in place.

imagine his surprise when he’s thrown out of sleep in the middle of the night—one of his veils have been breached. moments later, uraume rushes into the room.

“my king–the perimeter guards caught someone…they had weapons. ordered to kill the queen.” they pant, out of breath from hustling here so quickly. and with that one sentence, his every worst fear is confirmed. people are after you—they want to kill you. kill his baby and his wife in one fell swoop.

he sees red.

he looks over at you–sleeping deeply beside him. he can’t disrupt your rest, not when the baby will be coming so soon..so he leans over to kiss your lips softly before following uraume to the throne room to torture the infiltrator that thought they could get away with such a thing.

he doesn’t think he’s ever been this bloodthirsty before, either. love like this makes you do crazy things–feel crazy things. the perpetrator is being held on his knees, head forced forward to look at the floor.

“my servants tell me that we’ve caught a roach. let’s hear it.” he spits, intent on torturing this cretin slowly—send a message to everyone else that tries to come after his family. that if you attack—you will be dismembered and scattered across the continents with the breeze.

“or maybe you just caught the fall guy, and you didn’t stop anything at all.” the man smirks boldly at the king, a shuffle upstairs catching his attention.

you wake up when the last traces of your husband’s warmth has dissipated. you blink awake, feeling around in his spot to confirm his absence. huffing, you roll to your back, seeing his shadow shuffle around the room. “my love? are you having trouble sleeping tonight?” he’s been known to periodically wake up and patrol the place to make sure that nothing’s slipped past his other defenses.

“notcha love—you can’t bring that demon to life, whore.”

and those are the last words you ever hear.

there’s a slash across your gut, deep. you can hear your blood splatter on the ground—similar to what you had always imagined your water breaking to sound like. you don’t even feel the pain, really. just the fear. just the realization—that you’re too late, that all sukuna had done was for nothing. you’re dying. you’re going to die today–here. alone, and scared, the slash that comes next nearly decapitates you, and you can’t use your technique. you never even got out of bed, only your legs had touched the floor. you hadn’t even been able to stand before they slaughtered you.

the baby…the baby is gone just as grotesquely as you are–pulled from the gash in your midsection to fight these grown men on their own. ayame was a girl. and she was suffocated before her eyes ever opened, blood strewn about the room.

the two murderers flee before sukuna makes it to the top floor, able to cascade a rope out of the window and sneak right out, now that all of the security is distracted.

seconds later, he throws the door open. he nearly sprints forward to check on you–your form visible on the bed. but as he gets closer, he slips. his feet slide on something wet, warm—and he knows. he knows he’s lost the only person that ever mattered. his heart pounds faster as the staff rush in with the candles–revealing the gruesome scene.

he sobs. it’s a foreign feeling, crying. he had only felt this once before—when he knew he was going to be a father. that was certainly more pleasant than…this. you’re gone. his light–his eternal sunshine…slaughtered like cattle on his bed. you’re gutted, the scent of iron finally hitting his senses. had he been in shock before? is that why he didn’t immediately notice? your head is barely attached to your neck—eyes wide open with horror, mouth hung open to scream. there’s so much blood. dripping out of your mouth, gushing over your chest and out of your abdomen–soaking your pretty lavender nightgown. he reaches for you, emotions heightened to levels left undocumented. that’s when he sees—his eyes focusing on the lifeless lump that was his baby daughter. he reaches for her too–little ayame. he cradles his girls to his body, absolutely wailing. his body spikes in temperature—cursed technique going haywire. he’s inconsolable. his cursed energy is spiking to heights unknown, body shifting—growing larger–rage flowing like a new source of energy all on it’s own. his soul is shattering, twisting and knotting up in his body–heart aching like never before. it was one mistake—he left for two seconds, to let you sleep and now you are gone forever. his baby is dead—his wife…he’ll never speak to you again. never feel your hands on his skin or the warmth of your kiss. he can’t go on like this—no. he has no desire to live.

the love of his life, his first born child—ripped away from him in an instant. all the peace and happiness and joy you showed him existed has turned into the deepest and darkest personal hell he has ever known. he looks around him—even more blood than ever before. his technique—it killed everyone. he can’t find it in himself to consider it again, too focused on the mangled mess they made of his queen. he will avenge you—he will murder everyone in his path until someone can put him out of this misery. until then–he will take every other soul out of this world. if he can’t be happy–if he doesn’t get to live this life in peace–then no one else will either.

the entire castle is consumed with the raw force of his cursed energy, shattered in an instant. as if he was a natural disaster in and of himself. perhaps maybe know he is…for he is no longer a man. ryomen sukuna never was quite just a man–the king of the heian era. but now, he is the king of something else. of all things bad and evil—of all the things that can help him enact revenge. the king of curses.

tags: @neon-crow @skypperlegacy @gis4greenandgreenisgre4t @alastors-radio @alltimenogoaway-blog @tragedyofabrokensoul @gojosukuna2268 @hannas16 @alwaysfreakingout @thepurpleempath @pelicanpizza @aenishas @satsuk-jjk @catobsessedlady @gucci-basura @eiaaasamantha @asukahiriko @t4naiis @thejujvtsupost @mymelx @maskedpacific @berranurates @enchantingartisanwitch @celena-alanze

#kyleewritessukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #sukuna #kyleewritesjjk #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna #jjk ryomen #dead dove do not eat #cw pregnancy #cw death #cw gore #sukuna series #soul bound

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