୨୧ — You knelt gently on the cool stone floor of his temple, your delicate hands arranging a bouquet of colorful blooms in a vase. Your soft melodic humming weaved through the air and turned the usually oppressive temple into something almost… domestic.
"Still cluttering my temple with this worthless garbage?" Sukuna growled, though his eyes never left the gentle sway of your movements. "Must you insist on filling every corner with these weeds?"
"They're not garbage, they're flowers!" You held up a bloom for his inspection, completely unfazed by his scowl, "This one kind of reminds me of you- all thorny on the outside…" you smiled sweetly at the flower, a tint of pink dusting your cheeks, "but the petals are so soft."
The mouth on his stomach let out a derisive snort.
"Comparing the King of Curses to a common weed? Your boldness knows no bounds, does it? I could burn them all to ash with a thought," he threatened, multiple hands clenching, "Turn your precious flowers to nothing but dust."
"Buuut you won't," you sang out, struggling slightly to stand with your swollen belly. Before you could wobble and lose balance, his hands were there, steadying you. The moment he realized what he’d done his gentle touch turned into a somewhat harsh grip, the action of tending to you making him bare his teeth in self-disgust.
"Pathetic," he spat, though his hold remained carefully mindful of your condition, "You're as weak as these weeds you love so much." He clicked his tongue, "Tch, and I don’t believe I gave you permission to move, know your place… woman."
"Hmmm~?" You arched your brow at him, "And where is my place?" You asked playfully, leaning into his touch despite his harsh words. Your hand reaching up to caress the curse marks on his arm.
The mouth on his stomach snapped its teeth, "At my feet, where you belong."
"Funny," you mused, "that's not where you kept me last night~."
His grip tightened, just shy of painful, "Watch your tongue, little lamb.." One hand found your throat, thumb pressing against your pulse point in warning, "That tongue of yours grows bolder by the day," Sukuna snarled, another hand tangling in your hair with barely contained violence. "Perhaps I should I finally rid myself of that mouth of yours..." his nails drags across your neck, "rip it out and feed it to-"
You merely tilted your head, exposing more of your neck to his threatening grip, "rip it out with those hands that hold me so carefully?" You pressed closer, fearlessly touching the mouth on his stomach, which immediately ceased its smirk.
"You're nothing but a temporary amusement. A warm body to entertain me. A vessel for my-"
The mouth on his stomach started to add something undoubtedly vicious, but fell traitorously silent when Sukuna heard the next words that slipped from your lips, "Is that why you check on us every night?" You asked, eyes looking at him knowingly, "To inspect your vess-!"
He cut you off by pulling you roughly against him, four hands positioning you exactly where he wanted you, "You talk too much." A vein pulsed dangerously in his temple before The king of curses releases a sound of frustration, "I'm ensuring what belongs to me remains intact. Nothing more."
"And you pretend too much," you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his clenched jaw, "my fearsome lord who also waters his "vessels" wilting flowers as she sleeps soundly with his growing child."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I do no such thing..."
He should have pulled away. Should have done what he’s done to others and remind you exactly why he earned the title King Of Curses... Instead, he found himself drawing you closer, allowing your warmth to seep into his cold existence.
"Your weeds are still worthless," he muttered against your hair, but all four of his arms continued to cradle you protectively.
Sukuna Ryomen wanted to destroy you. To erase your existence…
This pure, ridiculous woman who dared to mock his threats with smiles and gentle touches. But as you turned back to look at your arrangement of wee- flowers…, humming contentedly in his embrace, he knew with sickening certainty that he would tear apart anyone who tried to harm you and his unborn brat before he ever laid a violent hand on you himself.
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୨୧ — You knelt gently on the cool stone floor of his temple, your delicate hands arranging a bouquet of colorful blooms in a vase. Your soft melodic humming weaved through the air and turned the usually oppressive temple into something almost… domestic.
"Still cluttering my temple with this worthless garbage?" Sukuna growled, though his eyes never left the gentle sway of your movements. "Must you insist on filling every corner with these weeds?"
"They're not garbage, they're flowers!" You held up a bloom for his inspection, completely unfazed by his scowl, "This one kind of reminds me of you- all thorny on the outside…" you smiled sweetly at the flower, a tint of pink dusting your cheeks, "but the petals are so soft."
The mouth on his stomach let out a derisive snort.
"Comparing the King of Curses to a common weed? Your boldness knows no bounds, does it? I could burn them all to ash with a thought," he threatened, multiple hands clenching, "Turn your precious flowers to nothing but dust."
"Buuut you won't," you sang out, struggling slightly to stand with your swollen belly. Before you could wobble and lose balance, his hands were there, steadying you. The moment he realized what he’d done his gentle touch turned into a somewhat harsh grip, the action of tending to you making him bare his teeth in self-disgust.
"Pathetic," he spat, though his hold remained carefully mindful of your condition, "You're as weak as these weeds you love so much." He clicked his tongue, "Tch, and I don’t believe I gave you permission to move, know your place… woman."
"Hmmm~?" You arched your brow at him, "And where is my place?" You asked playfully, leaning into his touch despite his harsh words. Your hand reaching up to caress the curse marks on his arm.
The mouth on his stomach snapped its teeth, "At my feet, where you belong."
"Funny," you mused, "that's not where you kept me last night~."
His grip tightened, just shy of painful, "Watch your tongue, little lamb.." One hand found your throat, thumb pressing against your pulse point in warning, "That tongue of yours grows bolder by the day," Sukuna snarled, another hand tangling in your hair with barely contained violence. "Perhaps I should I finally rid myself of that mouth of yours..." his nails drags across your neck, "rip it out and feed it to-"
You merely tilted your head, exposing more of your neck to his threatening grip, "rip it out with those hands that hold me so carefully?" You pressed closer, fearlessly touching the mouth on his stomach, which immediately ceased its smirk.
"You're nothing but a temporary amusement. A warm body to entertain me. A vessel for my-"
The mouth on his stomach started to add something undoubtedly vicious, but fell traitorously silent when Sukuna heard the next words that slipped from your lips, "Is that why you check on us every night?" You asked, eyes looking at him knowingly, "To inspect your vess-!"
He cut you off by pulling you roughly against him, four hands positioning you exactly where he wanted you, "You talk too much." A vein pulsed dangerously in his temple before The king of curses releases a sound of frustration, "I'm ensuring what belongs to me remains intact. Nothing more."
"And you pretend too much," you whispered, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his clenched jaw, "my fearsome lord who also waters his "vessels" wilting flowers as she sleeps soundly with his growing child."
Sukuna's eyes narrowed dangerously, "I do no such thing..."
He should have pulled away. Should have done what he’s done to others and remind you exactly why he earned the title King Of Curses... Instead, he found himself drawing you closer, allowing your warmth to seep into his cold existence.
"Your weeds are still worthless," he muttered against your hair, but all four of his arms continued to cradle you protectively.
Sukuna Ryomen wanted to destroy you. To erase your existence…
This pure, ridiculous woman who dared to mock his threats with smiles and gentle touches. But as you turned back to look at your arrangement of wee- flowers…, humming contentedly in his embrace, he knew with sickening certainty that he would tear apart anyone who tried to harm you and his unborn brat before he ever laid a violent hand on you himself.
୨୧ — “Hey.” Valko's voice is rough, scratchy, but he's trying for lightness, “You still in there, sweetheart? Or did I fuck you into another dimension?”
“Mmm.”
It's the only response you can manage. Your brain is still offline, your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. You feel boneless, liquid, like someone has scooped out your insides and replaced them with warm honey.
“M’good,” you finally manage, the words slurring together, “‘M’really... really good.”
A soft huff escapes him- almost a laugh, edged with disbelief. Valko's palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing a tear track, smearing salt and sweat- and then he really looks at you.
His golden eyes travel slowly down your body.
The bruises blooming on your hips. The red marks circling your wrists. Your cum smeared thighs, your puffy, fucked out hole still weeping his seed onto the already ruined sheets, cunt gaped and swollen from his knot. Body absolutely limp against the mattress, trembling faintly with aftershocks…
The playful smile on his face... falters.
“I…” He swallows hard. His hand hovers over the finger shaped bruises on your hip, not quite touching, like he's afraid to cause more damage. “...I lost control again.”
“S’okay-”
Look at her. Wrecked. Because of me. Because I couldn't- …She's pregnant, the thought slices through him. She's carrying your pups and you still couldn't- you still-
“Valko.” Your hand finds his jaw, weak and trembling but there, “M’okay. Promise.”
He doesn't look convinced, “I should've been more careful. You're-” His gaze drops to your belly, the swell of it unmistakable now. “-you're pregnant. With twins. And I just-”
“Fucked me exactly how I wanted?” You manage a tired smile, “Yeah. Terrible. How dare you.”
A laugh escapes him, “Brat.”
“Hmm~ But I’m your brat.”
His thumb traces your cheekbone, impossibly gentle, “In my defense, you make it really hard to hold back when you beg like that.”
You try to swat at him, but your arm just... flops. Pathetically.
He grins, “Cute.”
"Sh'up."
“Make me.” He leans down, pressing a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead, “Actually, don't. You can barely move. It wouldn't be a fair fight.” Another kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. “Don't move a muscle, not one. Doctor Valko’s orders.”
“You're not- not a doctor-”
“Hmph, well i’m your personal one tonight.”
He vanishes into the bathroom -click of the light, hiss of running water- before returning with a warm washcloth draped over his shoulder and a glass of water in hand.
“Drink first.” He tips the glass to your lips, patient, waiting while you take small sips.The first swipe of the warm cloth across your cheek is heaven. He works with focused gentleness that steals your absolute breath away- wiping the mascara threatening to stain your cheeks, the pearly streaks from your belly, the slick mess from your inner thighs.
But his movements are almost too careful now. Like you're made of glass. Like he's terrified of breaking you further.
The cloth moves higher, and his expression shifts again- guilt flickering through the warmth as he reaches your collar. The bite mark there has dried, crusted with blood, the perfect imprint of his teeth purpling against your skin.
“Shit.” He winces, dabbing carefully at the wound. “I really did a number on you here, huh?”
“I liked it, felt good~” you mumble.
“Yeah?” A hint of that playful smirk returns. “Liked getting marked up by your big bad wolf?”
Then his gaze falls on something in the corner of the bed, “Oh, perfect.” a silly gift he'd given you months ago that had somehow become a permanent fixture in your shared space. The little stuffed wolf has button eyes and an embroidered smile, and it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever purchased.
He loves it. (He loves that you love it.)
“Look who's here,” he says, voice warm and playful as he makes the stuffed wolf bob and weave in front of your nose. “Mr. Wolfie was very concerned. He heard all that screaming and thought something terrible was happening.”
You snort weakly.
Valko pitches his voice higher, making the plush nod sagely. “‘Are you okay?' Mr. Wolfie asks. ‘That big mean wolf wasn't too rough, was he? Should I bite him?’”
“Oh my god-”
“‘I'll protect you,’” Valko continues, completely shameless, pressing the little grey snout against your cheek in a playful kiss, “‘I'm very brave. Very fierce. Grr.’”
The childish gesture is so at odds with the man who just fucked you senseless- who'd knotted you so deep you'd sobbed- that you can't help but giggle. “Valkooo,” you finally manage, pinching his nose weakly, “I'm okay.”
Then you look up at him, one hand drifting to rest on your belly, “We're all okay. All three of us. I promise.”
His ears perk up at that- both standing tall and alert, swiveling toward you like satellite dishes catching the most important signal in the world. Something in his expression cracks open, the playfulness still there (never fully gone, with him) but bleeding into something rawer underneath. Something that looks like home.
He stretches out beside you, gathering your tired body against his chest and tucking Mr. Wolfie securely in your arms. His face nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in like you're the only air worth having.
“All three of you,” he repeats softly. His palm spreads warm over the swell of your belly, right where his pups are growing. “My little pack”
His lips brush your forehead as his tail wraps around your legs and hips like a living blanket, soft fur warming every inch it touches.
“My pups,” he whispers, quiet and wondering, thumb tracing slow circles over your bump. “My beautiful wife. All mine.”
His chin comes to rest atop your head. The tail curls tighter, cocooning you in red softness,
Safe. Loved. His.
When sleep finally pulls you under, it's to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and the soft rumble of some half remembered lullaby hummed against your hair.
୨୧ — “Hey.” Valko's voice is rough, scratchy, but he's trying for lightness, “You still in there, sweetheart? Or did I fuck you into another dimension?”
“Mmm.”
It's the only response you can manage. Your brain is still offline, your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. You feel boneless, liquid, like someone has scooped out your insides and replaced them with warm honey.
“M’good,” you finally manage, the words slurring together, “‘M’really... really good.”
A soft huff escapes him- almost a laugh, edged with disbelief. Valko's palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing a tear track, smearing salt and sweat- and then he really looks at you.
His golden eyes travel slowly down your body.
The bruises blooming on your hips. The red marks circling your wrists. Your cum smeared thighs, your puffy, fucked out hole still weeping his seed onto the already ruined sheets, cunt gaped and swollen from his knot. Body absolutely limp against the mattress, trembling faintly with aftershocks…
The playful smile on his face... falters.
“I…” He swallows hard. His hand hovers over the finger shaped bruises on your hip, not quite touching, like he's afraid to cause more damage. “...I lost control again.”
“S’okay-”
Look at her. Wrecked. Because of me. Because I couldn't- …She's pregnant, the thought slices through him. She's carrying your pups and you still couldn't- you still-
“Valko.” Your hand finds his jaw, weak and trembling but there, “M’okay. Promise.”
He doesn't look convinced, “I should've been more careful. You're-” His gaze drops to your belly, the swell of it unmistakable now. “-you're pregnant. With twins. And I just-”
“Fucked me exactly how I wanted?” You manage a tired smile, “Yeah. Terrible. How dare you.”
A laugh escapes him, “Brat.”
“Hmm~ But I’m your brat.”
His thumb traces your cheekbone, impossibly gentle, “In my defense, you make it really hard to hold back when you beg like that.”
You try to swat at him, but your arm just... flops. Pathetically.
He grins, “Cute.”
"Sh'up."
“Make me.” He leans down, pressing a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead, “Actually, don't. You can barely move. It wouldn't be a fair fight.” Another kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. “Don't move a muscle, not one. Doctor Valko’s orders.”
“You're not- not a doctor-”
“Hmph, well i’m your personal one tonight.”
He vanishes into the bathroom -click of the light, hiss of running water- before returning with a warm washcloth draped over his shoulder and a glass of water in hand.
“Drink first.” He tips the glass to your lips, patient, waiting while you take small sips.The first swipe of the warm cloth across your cheek is heaven. He works with focused gentleness that steals your absolute breath away- wiping the mascara threatening to stain your cheeks, the pearly streaks from your belly, the slick mess from your inner thighs.
But his movements are almost too careful now. Like you're made of glass. Like he's terrified of breaking you further.
The cloth moves higher, and his expression shifts again- guilt flickering through the warmth as he reaches your collar. The bite mark there has dried, crusted with blood, the perfect imprint of his teeth purpling against your skin.
“Shit.” He winces, dabbing carefully at the wound. “I really did a number on you here, huh?”
“I liked it, felt good~” you mumble.
“Yeah?” A hint of that playful smirk returns. “Liked getting marked up by your big bad wolf?”
Then his gaze falls on something in the corner of the bed, “Oh, perfect.” a silly gift he'd given you months ago that had somehow become a permanent fixture in your shared space. The little stuffed wolf has button eyes and an embroidered smile, and it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever purchased.
He loves it. (He loves that you love it.)
“Look who's here,” he says, voice warm and playful as he makes the stuffed wolf bob and weave in front of your nose. “Mr. Wolfie was very concerned. He heard all that screaming and thought something terrible was happening.”
You snort weakly.
Valko pitches his voice higher, making the plush nod sagely. “‘Are you okay?' Mr. Wolfie asks. ‘That big mean wolf wasn't too rough, was he? Should I bite him?’”
“Oh my god-”
“‘I'll protect you,’” Valko continues, completely shameless, pressing the little grey snout against your cheek in a playful kiss, “‘I'm very brave. Very fierce. Grr.’”
The childish gesture is so at odds with the man who just fucked you senseless- who'd knotted you so deep you'd sobbed- that you can't help but giggle. “Valkooo,” you finally manage, pinching his nose weakly, “I'm okay.”
Then you look up at him, one hand drifting to rest on your belly, “We're all okay. All three of us. I promise.”
His ears perk up at that- both standing tall and alert, swiveling toward you like satellite dishes catching the most important signal in the world. Something in his expression cracks open, the playfulness still there (never fully gone, with him) but bleeding into something rawer underneath. Something that looks like home.
He stretches out beside you, gathering your tired body against his chest and tucking Mr. Wolfie securely in your arms. His face nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in like you're the only air worth having.
“All three of you,” he repeats softly. His palm spreads warm over the swell of your belly, right where his pups are growing. “My little pack”
His lips brush your forehead as his tail wraps around your legs and hips like a living blanket, soft fur warming every inch it touches.
“My pups,” he whispers, quiet and wondering, thumb tracing slow circles over your bump. “My beautiful wife. All mine.”
His chin comes to rest atop your head. The tail curls tighter, cocooning you in red softness,
Safe. Loved. His.
When sleep finally pulls you under, it's to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and the soft rumble of some half remembered lullaby hummed against your hair.
୨୧ — “Hey.” Valko's voice is rough, scratchy, but he's trying for lightness, “You still in there, sweetheart? Or did I fuck you into another dimension?”
“Mmm.”
It's the only response you can manage. Your brain is still offline, your thoughts scattered like leaves in a storm. You feel boneless, liquid, like someone has scooped out your insides and replaced them with warm honey.
“M’good,” you finally manage, the words slurring together, “‘M’really... really good.”
A soft huff escapes him- almost a laugh, edged with disbelief. Valko's palm cups your cheek, thumb brushing a tear track, smearing salt and sweat- and then he really looks at you.
His golden eyes travel slowly down your body.
The bruises blooming on your hips. The red marks circling your wrists. Your cum smeared thighs, your puffy, fucked out hole still weeping his seed onto the already ruined sheets, cunt gaped and swollen from his knot. Body absolutely limp against the mattress, trembling faintly with aftershocks…
The playful smile on his face... falters.
“I…” He swallows hard. His hand hovers over the finger shaped bruises on your hip, not quite touching, like he's afraid to cause more damage. “...I lost control again.”
“S’okay-”
Look at her. Wrecked. Because of me. Because I couldn't- …She's pregnant, the thought slices through him. She's carrying your pups and you still couldn't- you still-
“Valko.” Your hand finds his jaw, weak and trembling but there, “M’okay. Promise.”
He doesn't look convinced, “I should've been more careful. You're-” His gaze drops to your belly, the swell of it unmistakable now. “-you're pregnant. With twins. And I just-”
“Fucked me exactly how I wanted?” You manage a tired smile, “Yeah. Terrible. How dare you.”
A laugh escapes him, “Brat.”
“Hmm~ But I’m your brat.”
His thumb traces your cheekbone, impossibly gentle, “In my defense, you make it really hard to hold back when you beg like that.”
You try to swat at him, but your arm just... flops. Pathetically.
He grins, “Cute.”
"Sh'up."
“Make me.” He leans down, pressing a feather light kiss to your sweaty forehead, “Actually, don't. You can barely move. It wouldn't be a fair fight.” Another kiss, this one to the tip of your nose. “Don't move a muscle, not one. Doctor Valko’s orders.”
“You're not- not a doctor-”
“Hmph, well i’m your personal one tonight.”
He vanishes into the bathroom -click of the light, hiss of running water- before returning with a warm washcloth draped over his shoulder and a glass of water in hand.
“Drink first.” He tips the glass to your lips, patient, waiting while you take small sips.The first swipe of the warm cloth across your cheek is heaven. He works with focused gentleness that steals your absolute breath away- wiping the mascara threatening to stain your cheeks, the pearly streaks from your belly, the slick mess from your inner thighs.
But his movements are almost too careful now. Like you're made of glass. Like he's terrified of breaking you further.
The cloth moves higher, and his expression shifts again- guilt flickering through the warmth as he reaches your collar. The bite mark there has dried, crusted with blood, the perfect imprint of his teeth purpling against your skin.
“Shit.” He winces, dabbing carefully at the wound. “I really did a number on you here, huh?”
“I liked it, felt good~” you mumble.
“Yeah?” A hint of that playful smirk returns. “Liked getting marked up by your big bad wolf?”
Then his gaze falls on something in the corner of the bed, “Oh, perfect.” a silly gift he'd given you months ago that had somehow become a permanent fixture in your shared space. The little stuffed wolf has button eyes and an embroidered smile, and it's quite possibly the most ridiculous thing he's ever purchased.
He loves it. (He loves that you love it.)
“Look who's here,” he says, voice warm and playful as he makes the stuffed wolf bob and weave in front of your nose. “Mr. Wolfie was very concerned. He heard all that screaming and thought something terrible was happening.”
You snort weakly.
Valko pitches his voice higher, making the plush nod sagely. “‘Are you okay?' Mr. Wolfie asks. ‘That big mean wolf wasn't too rough, was he? Should I bite him?’”
“Oh my god-”
“‘I'll protect you,’” Valko continues, completely shameless, pressing the little grey snout against your cheek in a playful kiss, “‘I'm very brave. Very fierce. Grr.’”
The childish gesture is so at odds with the man who just fucked you senseless- who'd knotted you so deep you'd sobbed- that you can't help but giggle. “Valkooo,” you finally manage, pinching his nose weakly, “I'm okay.”
Then you look up at him, one hand drifting to rest on your belly, “We're all okay. All three of us. I promise.”
His ears perk up at that- both standing tall and alert, swiveling toward you like satellite dishes catching the most important signal in the world. Something in his expression cracks open, the playfulness still there (never fully gone, with him) but bleeding into something rawer underneath. Something that looks like home.
He stretches out beside you, gathering your tired body against his chest and tucking Mr. Wolfie securely in your arms. His face nuzzling into your hair, breathing you in like you're the only air worth having.
“All three of you,” he repeats softly. His palm spreads warm over the swell of your belly, right where his pups are growing. “My little pack”
His lips brush your forehead as his tail wraps around your legs and hips like a living blanket, soft fur warming every inch it touches.
“My pups,” he whispers, quiet and wondering, thumb tracing slow circles over your bump. “My beautiful wife. All mine.”
His chin comes to rest atop your head. The tail curls tighter, cocooning you in red softness,
Safe. Loved. His.
When sleep finally pulls you under, it's to the steady thrum of his heartbeat and the soft rumble of some half remembered lullaby hummed against your hair.
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୨୧ — Valko was sprawled on his stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, hair an absolute disaster, ears twitching occasionally at sounds only he could hear. His tail had escaped the covers sometime in the night and lay flopped over your legs like a furry anchor.
It wagged once. Twice. Even in sleep, some part of him always knew you were there.
You'd been awake for an hour already- crept out at an ungodly time to execute your master plan, then slipped back in to wait. The apartment smelled like vanilla and sugar and slightly burnt frosting (you'd scraped off the evidence), and the living room was housing a mountain of wrapped presents you'd been secretly hoarding for weeks.
His nose twitched.
There it is.
You watched his brow furrow, still mostly asleep, processing the unusual scent data. His tail started wagging faster. Then his ears perked up- one, then the other, swiveling toward the bedroom door like little radar dishes.
“Mmrph” A grumble. His arm reached out blindly, patting the mattress until he found your thigh and latched on, “Why's it smell like... cake?”
“Good morning to you too.”
One golden eye cracked open. Then the other. He squinted at you suspiciously, clearly not trusting his own senses this early, “‘S not my birthday.”
“It literally is.”
He buried his face back into the pillow, “Birthdays are for people who age. I refuse. I'm eternal.”
You snorted and scratched behind one ear. His whole body went boneless, a low rumble building in his chest.
Cheater, he thought hazily. Using the ears against me.
“Made you a cake,” you said in the sweetest fucking voice.
His head lifted. Both ears now at full attention, pointed directly at you with laser focus.
“…What kind?”
“Chocolate. Three layers. Homemade buttercream… There may also be irresponsible amounts of presents. That leather jacket you've been staring at for six months? Those limited edition headphones that sold out in three minutes?" You grinned. "Oh, and I contacted that artist you like for a custom commission- it won't be ready for weeks so you're getting an IOU with a badly drawn wolf on it. Don't judge my art skills."
His tail was going insane now- hard enough to shake the bed. But his face was doing that thing where he tried to look cool and unaffected and was failing spectacularly.
She remembered, he thought, something warm and overwhelming expanding in his chest. Every stupid little thing I mentioned once. She was listening. She planned this. For me.
You didn't get to finish the sentence.
Valko moved fast and suddenly you were pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face inches from yours.
“You,” he said roughly, “are so annoying.”
“Rude. I made you cake-“
“The most annoying person I've ever met.” He kissed your forehead. “Insufferable even.” Your nose. “Absolutely unbearable.” The corner of your mouth.
You cupped his face in both hands.
“Happy birthday, my little wolfie.”
He made a small, undignified sound. His tail drooped. His ears flattened.
And then he buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you tight enough to squeeze the air from your lungs, and just... stayed there. Breathing you in.
You held him tighter, scratching at the base of his ears as his whole body melted against yours.
His tail started wagging again- slower, softer.
Best day, he thought. Best person. Gonna marry her.
“So,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “wanna see your presents? Orrrr is it still too early?”
He bit your shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.
“Five more minutes.” He lifted his head, flashing that sharp grin- still slightly watery but getting cockier, “Then presents. Then cake. Then I'm gonna show you exactly how grateful I am. Repeatedly.”
“...It's eight AM.”
“And? I've got all day. You gave me three layers. That's at least three rounds.”
“That math doesn't-“
He dropped back down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, “My birthday. My math.”
୨୧ — Valko was sprawled on his stomach, one arm dangling off the edge of the bed, hair an absolute disaster, ears twitching occasionally at sounds only he could hear. His tail had escaped the covers sometime in the night and lay flopped over your legs like a furry anchor.
It wagged once. Twice. Even in sleep, some part of him always knew you were there.
You'd been awake for an hour already- crept out at an ungodly time to execute your master plan, then slipped back in to wait. The apartment smelled like vanilla and sugar and slightly burnt frosting (you'd scraped off the evidence), and the living room was housing a mountain of wrapped presents you'd been secretly hoarding for weeks.
His nose twitched.
There it is.
You watched his brow furrow, still mostly asleep, processing the unusual scent data. His tail started wagging faster. Then his ears perked up- one, then the other, swiveling toward the bedroom door like little radar dishes.
“Mmrph” A grumble. His arm reached out blindly, patting the mattress until he found your thigh and latched on, “Why's it smell like... cake?”
“Good morning to you too.”
One golden eye cracked open. Then the other. He squinted at you suspiciously, clearly not trusting his own senses this early, “‘S not my birthday.”
“It literally is.”
He buried his face back into the pillow, “Birthdays are for people who age. I refuse. I'm eternal.”
You snorted and scratched behind one ear. His whole body went boneless, a low rumble building in his chest.
Cheater, he thought hazily. Using the ears against me.
“Made you a cake,” you said in the sweetest fucking voice.
His head lifted. Both ears now at full attention, pointed directly at you with laser focus.
“…What kind?”
“Chocolate. Three layers. Homemade buttercream… There may also be irresponsible amounts of presents. That leather jacket you've been staring at for six months? Those limited edition headphones that sold out in three minutes?" You grinned. "Oh, and I contacted that artist you like for a custom commission- it won't be ready for weeks so you're getting an IOU with a badly drawn wolf on it. Don't judge my art skills."
His tail was going insane now- hard enough to shake the bed. But his face was doing that thing where he tried to look cool and unaffected and was failing spectacularly.
She remembered, he thought, something warm and overwhelming expanding in his chest. Every stupid little thing I mentioned once. She was listening. She planned this. For me.
You didn't get to finish the sentence.
Valko moved fast and suddenly you were pinned beneath him, his weight pressing you into the mattress, his face inches from yours.
“You,” he said roughly, “are so annoying.”
“Rude. I made you cake-“
“The most annoying person I've ever met.” He kissed your forehead. “Insufferable even.” Your nose. “Absolutely unbearable.” The corner of your mouth.
You cupped his face in both hands.
“Happy birthday, my little wolfie.”
He made a small, undignified sound. His tail drooped. His ears flattened.
And then he buried his face in your neck, arms wrapping around you tight enough to squeeze the air from your lungs, and just... stayed there. Breathing you in.
You held him tighter, scratching at the base of his ears as his whole body melted against yours.
His tail started wagging again- slower, softer.
Best day, he thought. Best person. Gonna marry her.
“So,” you finally said, breaking the silence, “wanna see your presents? Orrrr is it still too early?”
He bit your shoulder. Not hard. Just enough to make you yelp.
“Five more minutes.” He lifted his head, flashing that sharp grin- still slightly watery but getting cockier, “Then presents. Then cake. Then I'm gonna show you exactly how grateful I am. Repeatedly.”
“...It's eight AM.”
“And? I've got all day. You gave me three layers. That's at least three rounds.”
“That math doesn't-“
He dropped back down, pressing a kiss to your pulse point, “My birthday. My math.”
thank you so much for writing for valko!! we’re fighting to keep him alive 🥺 will you still write for him? i know it’s difficult since we don’t have much content of his to go off, but i think you captured the character we all had in our heads perfectly!! <3
Hello my sweet little love bug (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶) ♡ I appreciate your kind words xoxo! I fell head over heels for Valko the very moment he was announced, and like so many of us… my heart aches more than I can say ʚ₍ᐢ ›̥̥̥ ༝ ‹̥̥̥ ᐢ₎ɞ. His flower is Lily of the valley toooo which is a flower my family has grown in our gardens for years!
Please, please keep fighting for our sweet pup, because I know in my soul he would move mountains and face anything to protect us!!! I will be continuing to write for him, and only him when it comes to LADS. He became such a gentle comfort to me in those fleeting, precious moments we shared… and that feeling? It just felt right ♡ ♡
୨୧ — You were drooling, eyes rolling back as you dug your nails into his shoulders trying to slow Valko down. Useless. Your legs wrapped around his waist, heels digging into his lower back as he drove into you, his name falling from your lips like a prayer between desperate pants.
“V-Val- hhahh- Val-ko- s'too- m'gonna- too m-much-“
Words? What were those? Your brain had turned to mush about three orgasms ago.
A whimper caught in your throat. Tears pricked at your lashes at the stretch, at being so fucking full, like he'd shoved your organs aside to make room.
“Hah-“ His voice broke, and you could feel every muscle in his body trembling, fighting something feral as his tail lashed wildly behind him. “Tryna be gentle but you-“
He fucked you like a beast anyway. Forehead pressed to yours, ears flat against his head, panting into your mouth. Your slick made the filthiest sounds every time he thrust home and when his teeth found your neck hard enough to break skin, the noise you made had his rhythm stuttering.
“Sorry- ngh- didn't mean-“ But he didn't stop. Couldn't.
His hand slid under your back, arching you up into him. The other pinned your wrist to the mattress. Blood smeared across your throat from his lips.
“That's it, that’s my good girl-“ Completely gone. Ruined.
You came screaming and do you think that made him slow down? Fuck no. He didn't slow down even a little.
“Again.” Barely a whisper. Begging. Pleading for just one more scream from those pretty lips…
“Valko- can't- no more-“
His ears drooped, this wounded little sound in his chest, “I know babe, m'sorry-“ His hips snapped forward anyway, “what’s a pup supposed to do? You just feel so good- cant- shit- can’t stop-“
Your cunt was a sloppy, ruined mess at this point- syrupy strings of your cum and arousal coating his cock, smearing creamy across your inner thighs. You could feel yourself dripping between your ass, making a puddle beneath you.
Then something big started pressing at your entrance.
You felt it before your sex stupid brain could process it- this thick, swelling pressure at your already stuffed hole. Stretching you wider. Wider. Too wide-
His knot.
It shoved inside with a wet POP and you shrieked, back bowing clean off the mattress, nails carving bleeding trenches down his spine. The sudden fullness -that fat bulge locking him in, plugging you up, pressing against every sensitive nerve- had your vision whiting out again. Your cunt spasmed around him, another orgasm cresting before the last one even finished, milking his knot in desperate fluttering clenches.
“Huh? What happened?” Total confusion. His ears shot up, head tilting, “You alright babe? Did I do something?”
“Your- your fucking knot- fuckfuckfuck-“ you choked out.
“What?” He blinked down at you, all golden puppy eyes while his monster sized knot split you in half, “What's wrong with it?”
“Ser -seriously? Sh’too- It's s’too big-“
“It is?” As he smirks he shifts his weight and you damn near passed out, “seems fine to me?”
You laughed -or sobbed, hard to tell- and it broke into a moan when he rolled his hips experimentally. You grabbed his hand and shoved it down between your bodies, pressing it against the bulge in your lower belly. Obscene. Fucking obscene.
“Valko.”
He looked down. Blinked. His tail started wagging. Actually wagging!
“Oh wow.” Like he'd found something mildly interesting, “That's pretty crazy.”
“YEAH.”
“Does it actually hurt?” He pressed against the bulge with genuine curiosity and your eyes nearly rolled back into your skull. Tail still going.
“Do you- hahh- do you seriously not know- how huge-“
“Dunno, never measured?” He dropped a casual kiss on your forehead, sweet as anything, while his fat fucking knot throbbed like it was trying to reshape your insides. “Always been like this. Annnnd those noises don’t really convince me you’re in pain.”
You were gonna fucking murder him. Right after you finished losing your mind on his cock.
He ground down into you and you came so hard you forgot your own name, pussy clenching around him like a goddamn vice.
“Oh- shit- shit-“ Finally cracking, his voice going high and whiney, “Squeezing me so tight, you’re gonna make me-“
He buried his face in your neck and came with a broken whine, and you felt it- pulse after pulse of hot cum pumping into you, filling you up til your belly rounded out even more. His arms caged you in, tail thumping against the mattress as he bred you full.
“S'good,” he slurred against your throat…
“Valko,” you whimpered, brain leaking out your ears., “M'so full-“
“Mm?” He sounded so pleased with himself.
Still absolutely clueless.
Way later -who even knows how long- he was still on top of you, weight braced on his elbows so he didn't crush you. His knot pulsed lazy and another warm gush filled you up.
“Hey,” he mumbled into your hair, and you could hear the grin in his voice.
“Mm.”
“So...” His fingers walked playfully up your side, making you squirm- which only made you clench around his knot and whimper, “You think my knot's big, huh?”
“Shut up.”
“Nah but like-“ He propped himself up to look at you, smirking, tail swishing, “You were really loud about it. Pretty sure the neighbors know now.”
“I hate you.”
“Mmhm.” He rolled his hips just slightly -enough to make you gasp- and his grin widened. “That why you're still milking my cock right now?”
Your face burned, “I- I can't- it's involuntary-“
“Sure it is.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, nuzzling, “S'okay baby. I think it's cute how much you love my huge knot.”
“I never said-“
“‘S'so fucking big Valko,'”he mimicked in a breathy voice, and you smacked his chest while he snickered. “'Your knot Valko, oh my god-“
“I do NOT sound like that.”
“You kinda do.” Another lazy grind. Another gush of cum. His eyes glittered. “Wanna hear what else you said? Got real creative toward the end there.”
You shoved at his shoulder uselessly. He didn't budge, just laughed and buried his face in your neck, pressing smiling kisses to your skin.
“M'just teasing, babe” His tail curled around your thigh, “youre cute when you're embarrassed.” He nuzzled the tippy top of your head.
“I'm gonna kill you when your knot finally goes down.”
“Mm, that's fair.” He snuggled closer, entirely unbothered, “Gives me like twenty more minutes to annoy you though.”
His hips shifted again, lazy and deliberate, and the noise you made was mortifying.
୨୧ — The soft splashing of water and gentle scrapes of your nails against his scalp made Sukuna's eyes grow heavy, lashes falling shut as you worked behind him. Your presence was… soothing, he admitted privately in his head- a word he’d never associated with anything before you.
"You’re quiet tonight," you murmur, your breath warm against his ear. The gentle curve of your stomach presses against his back, and he could feel his unborn child’s curse energy- what little he could feel promised that the brat was going to be strong.
He didn’t answer immediately, too lost in the feeling of your fingers threading through his hair. The king of curses, feared across lands, reduced to this- nearly purring under a pregnant woman’s gentle ministrations. The thought should have enraged him. Instead, he found himself leaning further back, his massive frame carefully controlled to avoid crushing you and that belly of yours.
Truth is, Sukuna couldn’t find the words to explain how your simple touch was undoing centuries of telling himself he couldn’t feel anything. How the sound of your humming as you focused on him made something in his chest constrict painfully… and how your swollen belly against his back filled him with a terrifying kind of joy and pride.
"Does it feel good at least?" You asked softly, working through a particularly stubborn tangle. The mouth on his stomach merely sighed in contentment.
"Mm," was all he could manage as he felt your smile against his shoulder, your lips brushing his skin in a whisper of a kiss.
Water droplets caught in his lashes as he opened his eyes partially, watching your shadow play across the room. Your fingers traced one of the black markings that adorned his body, and he tch’d at the fact he had to suppress a shudder.
"Sukuna..., tell me what troubles you, I can practically hear you thinking," your voice was barely above a whisper this time, your hands stilling on him, and for a moment, only the sound of dripping water filled the silence.
His multiple hands clenched into fists, "You're making me weak," he accused, "ruining me," he muttered.
Your hands moved to his shoulder, working a knot he hadn’t even realized was there, "m’not," you smiled, "I'm loving you. There's a difference."
Love... that dreaded word, and of course his child chose that moment to kick against your belly, as if agreeing with you. The little shit wasn’t even born yet and it was already picking sides.
"I should have killed you, spread your legs open and fucked your corpse," Sukuna sneered.
Sukuna could feel it, how that innocent smile of yours seared against his spine, followed by the melodious sound of laughter escaping your lips. Before you could think, the world shifted and you found yourself beneath his towering form, the waters surface fracturing into a thousand ripples around your bodies. His massive hand tapped your wrists above your head, another gripped your hip while the remaining two pressed where you womb was- where his child flourished, his hands trembling ever so slightly with the effort of gentle restraint.
He stared down at you, the water dripping from his hair leaving tracks along your face and neck, almost like blood from a fresh kill, but your eyes held no fear - only understanding. The mouth on his stomach hung open breathing heavily, "What have you done to me? I want to tear your heart out and rip your head off, but I also can't bear the thought of losing you, or that brat."
Slipping your arms around his neck, you smiled up at him, "Nothing you haven’t allowed."
"Watch your tongue, little lamb." The threat was hollow, and you both knew it. The kiss that followed was ever so desperate, sloppy and violent in its tenderness, but damn did it taste like the sweetest sin… Your response back- how you kissed him in return, your spit mingling with his, a soft moan on your tongue… It was better than any scream of terror he’d ever drawn from human lips. And he knew from that alone, you’d been right.
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୨୧ — Sukuna leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed over his chest as he watched his daughter carefully water each plant with the child sized watering can she'd insisted on bringing. At least she was focused on something, giving him a moment of peace.
Raising a kid was exhausting in ways that even running his territory wasn't. At least with his men, fear was a reliable motivator. His daughter, unfortunately, had inherited his utter lack and complete disregard for authority- a combination that was aging him prematurely…
The moment of relative calm shattered when she finished tending her sunflowers, and without warning, bolted toward the playground equipment.
"Oi!" Sukuna called after her, pushing off from the tree with an irritated grunt.
Either she didn't hear him or -more likely- was selectively deaf when it suited her... She scrambled up the ladder to the tallest slide structure with the agility of a monkey, her ponytail bouncing with each movement.
By the time Sukuna reached the playground, his daughter had bypassed the regular slide entirely and was instead perched precariously at the edge of the platform, tiny hands gripping the top of the fireman's pole that led straight down to the ground ten feet below.
"No." The single syllable carried a warning that would have stopped his most hardened criminals in their tracks. His voice was calm, almost bored sounding, but with an unmistakable edge of command.
To his shock -though perhaps it shouldn't have been shocking anymore- her little face scrunched up in defiance, and she shouted back as loud as her little lungs would allow, "NO!!!"
Sukuna's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking with hers in a silent standoff… This was the second warning, and they both knew it. Her little legs dangled over the edge, hands still gripping the pole, poised to slide down a drop that was far too high for someone her size.
"You heard me," he said, voice dropping lower.
"NOOO!!!" came the high pitched response, followed by a pink tongue poking out between her teeth in blatant disrespect.
Sukuna's eyebrow twitched, a muscle in his jaw clenching visibly. Several nearby parents, now actively gathered their children and moved further away.
"You're going to fucking fall," he growled, not bothering to censor his language -not that he ever did-... "Don't. Do. It." Each word was punctuated, deliberate. The final warning.
"MOMMY WAS RIGHT! YOU ARE A MEANIE!!"
Sukuna's vermillion eyes widened. The fuck did this brat just say?
Had you actually called him that behind his back? No- impossible. You wouldn't undermine him like that. This was a new manipulation tactic from his increasingly cunning offspring… He might have actually been proud of her if he wasn’t so pissed off right now.
He tsked, a sharp sound of irritation, "Fine. If you want to break your neck, go ahead. The big bad monster's getting tired of saving your ass every time you do something stupid." Sukuna made a show of closing his eyes, head tilted back slightly.
He didn't have to wait long. The moment his eyes closed, he heard the whoosh of her small body sliding down the pole and the telltale sign that she had accidentally lost her grip. Without hesitation, without even looking, his hand shot out, catching her tiny ankle just before she hit the wood chips… He dangled her upside down in front of him, her face now level with his.
Far from being frightened, his little girls face split into a delighted grin, her ponytail hanging toward the ground, cheeks flushed with excitement rather than fear.
Sukuna arched an eyebrow as understanding dawned, "This what you wanted?"
She beamed at him while still upside down, nodding vigorously, "Yup yup yup!!! I wanted to see if you would catch me!!!"
Her grin faltered slightly, looking somewhat guilty, "Mommy doesn't actually think you're a meanie... I- I lied a-about that."
Something in Sukuna's gaze softened. He flipped her upright in one smooth motion, setting her on her feet but keeping a firm grip on top of her head to prevent any more escape attempts.
"Tell me something I don't know," he said dryly, "Your mother's got questionable taste, but she's not stupid."
She giggled, reaching up to grab the hand that was resting on her head, "So you're not mad?"
"Oh, I'm fucking furious," he replied, but there was no real anger behind the words... "You think you're clever, manipulating me like that?"
"Yup!" she chirped, swinging his hand as they walked away from the playground.
"Tch, you get that from me, ya know?" he muttered, half proud despite himself, "The manipulative shit… and it’s annoying as fuck."
She grinned up at him,"But you love me anyway!"
"Unfortunately." He sighed.
…
"…Can we get ice cream?"
"After that stunt? Absolutely fucking not."
Ten minutes later, they were sitting on a park bench, his daughter happily licking a chocolate ice cream cone while Sukuna pretended he hadn't just completely caved to her demands.
"Don't tell your mother," he warned, "I don’t feel like dealing with her lectures today about how you shouldn’t have this shit before dinner."
"Don't tell her what?" She asked innocently, chocolate already smeared across her cheek.
Sukuna wiped it away with his thumb, a gesture so casually tender that the few remaining parents nearby did double takes.
"Smart answer," he said with a smirk that matched her own, "guess you are my kid after all."
"Duuhh," she replied, rolling her eyes in perfect mimicry like he does, "who else's would I be?"
୨୧ — The morning started innocently enough- or as innocent as anything could be with Sukuna.
You were standing at the kitchen counter, still half asleep, nursing your coffee when his hands found you from behind. Large, warm, utterly shameless… You hadn't even heard him approach- bare feet silent on the tile, the only warning the shift in the air before his chest pressed flush against your back.
He didn't even look up from his own phone when his palm slid beneath the loose fabric of your sleep shirt, fingers spreading across your bare chest like he was staking a claim.
His thumb found your nipple immediately -no hesitation, no searching- just knew exactly where it was, and pressed.
“Sukuna-“
A soft pinch. His forefinger and thumb rolling the sensitive bud between them like it belonged to him (because it did in his mind). Like this was just part of his morning routine now. Coffee. Phone. Your tits.
The noise you made was embarrassingly small. A little mnh that died in your throat before it could fully form, your coffee mug hovering halfway to your lips. Your back arched involuntarily, pressing into his chest, and you felt the low rumble of satisfaction in his ribs before you heard it.
“Morning,” he said flatly against the top of your head. Unbothered. Like he hadn't just short circuited your entire nervous system before 8am… like his fingers weren't still working you over- circling, then tugging while he scrolled through whatever meaningless bullshit had caught his attention.
You could feel him scrolling. Actually scrolling through something on his phone with his free hand while the other one played with you like you were background noise. Like you weren't trembling against him, coffee going cold, nipple pebbled and aching under his attention.
And then -just like that- he released you.
His hand slid out from under your shirt as casually as it had slipped in. Before you could even process the loss, warm lips pressed against the crown of your head. Soft. A tenderness reserved only for you and his daughter. The kind of kiss that made your stupid heart melt in your chest…
His palm connected with your ass in a sharp smack that echoed through the quiet kitchen.
“Gonna be late opening your little flower shop if you keep standing around,” he said, already walking away. His voice carried that infuriating drawl, dripping with amusement, “chop chop.”
You stood there like an idiot, coffee going cold in your grip, nipple still tingling, ass stinging, heart pounding in your chest.
God, he was annoying…
The smirk he threw over his shoulder -like he knew exactly what he'd done to you and found it hilarious- made you want to throw your mug at his head. Insufferable, but you loved it.
୨୧ — When his daughter brings home her first potential boyfriend at fifteen, Sukuna doesn't say a word. He simply sits across from the terrified boy at the kitchen table, his fork clinking against the plate, the sound sharp in the tense air. The entire time, he maintains unblinking eye contact while you attempt to salvage the rest of the dinner conversation with meaningless small talk.
After about twenty minutes, Sukuna finally speaks, "You touch her wrong, they won't find enough of you to bury. Got it, boy?" The boy is out the door just as you bring out the dessert, and your daughter doesn't speak to her father for three days. But when rumors start to circulate that the same boy pressured another girl into something she didn't want, his daughter quietly finds him outside sipping on his favorite whiskey.
Sitting next to him -her shoulder pressed against his-, she whispers, "How did you know?" Sukuna just shrugs, but there's understanding in the silence between them. After that, she doesn't fight his "inspections" quite so hard. He's always been her protector after all.
︵︵︵ ๑❤︎๑ ︵︵︵
୨୧ — During a parent teaching conference, his daughter’s literature teacher suggests she might be "troubled"… due to her persistent interest in writing dark, violent stories… The teachers eyes flicker towards Sukuna’s tattoos and scars, suggesting it might be due to the home environment.
Wrong choice of words.
Before you can intervene, Sukuna leans forward and asks with a deadly calm, "You ever read Dostoyevsky? The fucking Bible?"
The teacher nods, shrinking back in his seat…
"All full of violence. All considered genius. My daughter’s writing isn’t the problem." His voice never rises, but the temperature in the room seems to drop a whole ten degrees as he continues. "Your small mind is."
Two weeks later, your daughter rushes home holding her regional writing trophy. Sukuna has her piece professionally framed and hung in the living room next day.
Because at the end of the day, that’s still his little girl.
୨୧ — You were in the back of your flower shop arranging an elaborate wedding order when you heard it- a high pitched wail that made the fine hairs on your neck stand up. Your daughter's cry of distress was distinctive, even from a distance.
You dropped the roses you were trimming and moved towards the sound, only to collide with Sukuna who had materialized from nowhere, seemingly conjured by his daughter's cry. His entire body was tense, eyes scanning for threats, hands already forming into fists as he looks for his little girl.
"What. Happened." he demanded, voice dangerously low.
Before you could answer, your daughter came running around the corner, face streaked with fresh tears, breath coming in hiccupping sobs. The moment she spotted her father, she launched herself at him with the bling trust of a child who had never known anything but absolute protection.
Sukuna caught her easily, large hands lifting her as if she weighed nothing. His eyes continued to look around over her head, seeking for whatever had caused his daughter's distress.
"Tell me," he asked, the gentleness he forced into his voice at odds with the murderous look in his eyes, "what-" you saw how the muscles of his arms tightened, bracing himself for violence, "or who, made you cry."
She buried her face against his neck, her small body trembling, "Th-the c-clown," she managed between gut wrenching sobs. "Daddy... p-please make him g-go away!" her tiny fingers dug into his shirt, tears and snot smearing across his collar as she pressed herself impossibly closer, "He's sc-scary!"
Your shoulders sagged slightly with relief as you heard why your baby was crying. It wasn't a real threat... Which was good. The city festival had started yesterday, and performers of all kinds were wandering the streets, entertaining those who were out and about enjoying their day.
That relief died the moment you saw Sukuna's expression flicker through a range of emotions before settling on one you knew all too well: rage.
"Where." The single word carried the weight of an execution order...
"O-outside," she hiccupped again, pointing with a shaky finger towards where the clown was making balloon animals, "D-daddy he made a b-alloon and it exploded in m-my face!" her voice hitched on another sob. Watery eyes locking onto his which were now glowing a brilliant crimson as he held her protectively against his chest- watching this painted fuck of a man who was now grinning broadly at the new wave of children. "H-he laughed at me crying..."
You stepped closer, hand settling on his arm trying to draw his attention to you- it was a lost cause… this you knew. The only thing he cared about in this moment was his daughter and the man who'd dare to upset his flesh and blood...
"Don't." He said sharply.
"Sukuna, it's just a street performer. From the festival. She's not actually hur-"
The look he turned on you was arctic, the force of it freezing the words in your throat, "He. Made. Our. Daughter. Fucking. Cry." Each word was enunciated perfectly, a low snarl of fury, "And no one, makes my girls cry."
This wasn't the man who helped with bedtime stories. Nor the man who picked you up with one arm when your legs ached and held you tenderly against him… This was the man who had ripped out hearts, who'd torn men apart with his bare hands- a man who had no qualms about spilling blood in his wake. A ruthless, vicious tyrant who did not tolerate threats when it came to his family, even if it was just a street performer.
Your eyes flickered to your baby girl, her wails- her tiny voice cracking each time she tried to speak… You decided that if the man had scared her that badly, then he had it coming… Right?
"Go," your voice was gentle, "Do what you do best-" you leaned up, placing a gentle kiss to his jaw, "and keep us safe."
The smile that graced his lips was dark, twisted, a hint of madness dancing across his handsome face as his gaze turned back to the clown who was oblivious to the fate that was about to befall him.
"Stay with your mother," Sukuna's voice was soft- a rare tone reserved only for the two of you as he began peeling her arms from his neck.
"NO!!!" she shrieked, clinging tighter, fresh panic washing over her, "D-don't leave me, daddy!!" Her voice was filled with genuine terror, "Y-you can't go! You can't!"
Sukuna struggled internally- a war between the father he'd become wanting to stay by her side and continue holding her until she was calm, and the monster he's always been, demanding retribution.
He stroked her hair once, "I'm not leaving you... Just going to make the painted fuck go away."
"Sukuna," you warned, "I know I'm backing you on this but…" you glanced towards the clown, "it's a children's entertainer doing his job in the middle of the day. There's a lot of people here… You can't just walk up to him and-"
"I know exactly what i'm going to do," he cut you off, finally transferring her to your arms despite her desperate protests.
"What are you going to do?"
"Whatever it takes." He was already moving toward the front door of your shop, shoulders set, a confident stride in his steps, hands shoved in his pockets, his expression darkening the further he walked away from the two of you.
Your daughter pressed her face against your cheek, "Is daddy going to make the bad man go away?" she whispered, her arms locking around you, fingers tangling in your hair, "Daddy always makes the scary things go away."
"Yeah, sweetie," you murmured, watching Sukuna through your shop window, "he does doesn't he?" you nuzzle into her, bouncing her once, "Your daddy is always there to shield us, and to take care of us… even when it comes to the small things."
"Uh huh," she sniffled, wiping her eyes, "Daddy's strong."
You smiled at that, "The strongest," you agreed.
Through the glass, you watched him step onto the sidewalk, his presence immediately carving a path through pedestrians who recognized him. Even from this distance, you could see the exact moment the clown sensed death approaching. His hands faltered on the half twisted balloon, painted smile freezing as something screamed in his brain, danger.
In one fluid motion, Sukuna draped an arm around the clown's shoulders. The balloon that had been moments from becoming a dolphin slipped from his hands, squealing as it flew into the air and landed on the pavement.
"Hey, buddy," Sukuna said loudly, his voice pitched for the benefit of the parents and children nearby, dripping with absolute false warmth... "My little girl loved your act. Mind if we get a private performance?" Without waiting for consent, he tightened his grip around the clown's neck, steering him away from the crowd.
The clown stumbled alongside him, forced to move by Sukuna's iron control. To onlookers, they looked like old friends... No one noticing the clown's growing terror as they disappeared around the corner.
The moment they were alone, Sukuna's mask shattered. He slammed the clown against the brick wall with enough force to crack the man's skull, leaving just the right amount of blood smeared behind as a reminder of his strength. One tattooed hand crushed his throat while the other gripped his jaw, forcing eye contact.
"Listen very fucking carefully you painted piece of shit," Sukuna growled, face inches away, "you made my daughter cry. You scared her. The last person who did that lost everything from the neck down."
The clown's eyes bulged, breathing ragged as Sukuna's grip slowly crushed his windpipe, "I-I-I'm sor-"
"I could kill you right here," Sukuna continued, voice dropping to a whisper that promised agony... "Peel you apart piece by piece. Feed what's left to the stray dogs behind the market." His grip tightened until the man's face began purpling, eyes rolling back. "No one would even notice you were gone until the smell got bad..."
Just as consciousness began slipping, your face flashed through his mind- that same soft, loving smile you always wore… And then his daughter… the way her little cheeks dimpled when she smiled at him, the trust she put in him. You were both waiting for him to return. He could almost hear your voice, feel your arms around him, your hands cupping his cheeks as his daughter clung to his pant leg…
Fuck…
Killing this guy would take forever… Longer than he'd like to be away from you both…
God dammit…
"But I'm feeling generous today," Sukuna released his throat, letting him suck in desperate air. Before the man could recover, Sukuna's fist buried itself in the man's stomach, folding him in half. "So i'm offering you a choice. Leave this city. Never work as a clown again. And if ever see your ugly face- painted or not… I'll carve a permanent smile from eat to ear," the tip of his finger dragged along the man's cheek, cutting a thin line through the makeup before forcing his chin up, "Do i make myself clear?"
The clown nodded frantically, tears cutting tracks through his makeup.
Sukuna's thumbnail dug into the corner of his mouth, "Answer me. With words. No nodding."
"Y-yes-" The clown managed, his voice hoarse, "yes. Pple-please... Yes. Th-thank you."
"Get out of my sight." he snarled, tossing him by the face to the ground.
Sukuna waited until the guy was out of sight before pulling the black bandana from his pocket, wiping the white greasepaint from his hands. Only then did he stroll casually back around the front, his face bored- neutral, the one he typically wore.
When he reentered, his eyes immediately sought out you and his daughter. The relief on his daughter's face when she spotted him made his heart tighten... He was .
"Problem solved," he announced, holding his arms out for her to transfer herself from your embrace to his without hesitation.
"What did you do?" you asked, your voice quite enough so that she couldn't hear.
His eyes met yours- and you smirked knowing the look...
The clown had survived, but only because killing him would have taken too long.
"Softie~" You chuckled, leaning against his arm.
"M'not," he muttered, pressing a kiss to his daughter's hair as her eyes fluttered shut, "Just had other things to do today…"
His daughter's tired voice rose from the crook of his neck, "Did you make the bad clown go away," she smiled sleepily, "just like you promised?"
"Yeah..." he whispered into his hair, "No one gets to scare you. Not while I'm around, little one."
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
As night fell you found Sukuna laying sprawled out on his daughter’s tiny bed, his large frame comically oversized for the child sized furniture. There on his chest, she was draped across him like a koala, fast asleep with one small hand still clutching his shirt. His tattooed arm curled around her, dwarfing her little body.
He wasn’t asleep. His eyes tracking your movements as you entered her room, alert as always, though his body remained perfectly still to avoid disturbing the little girl using him as a bed.
"She wouldn't let go," he grumbled, his deep voice barely audible.
You moved to sit on the edge of the bed, gently brushing her hair from her face, revealing the peaceful expression of a child who felt completely safe.
"How violent did you actually get with the clown?" you asked quietly, your fingers lingering on your daughter's cheek.
Sukuna's eyes met yours in the glow of the turtle nightlight, unflinching, "Violent enough."
"You didn't kill him."
It wasn't a question, but he answered anyway, "No." His eyes flicked down to his daughter, then back to you. "Didn't need to. Yet."
You nodded, understanding the unspoken message. The "yet" was contingent on whether the clown was stupid enough to ignore Sukuna's warning.
"You know you're stuck here for the night, right?." you nodded toward her death grip on his shirt, "She won't let go of you, not even in her sleep."
"Yeah… I know. Wouldn't be the first time, won't be the fucking last." He sounded disgruntled, but you knew him well enough to catch the glimmer of contentment in his eyes, "This kid loves me too damn much."
You leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, then, to Sukuna's lips. He returned the kiss, teeth nipping at your lower lip, his free hand coming up to cup the back of your neck.
"She's not the only one," you say under your breath, but loud enough for him to hear, eyes locking onto his. "We're both so lucky to have you, Sukuna. Thank you, for everything. For taking care of us, and for being her protector."
He looked away, uncomfortable with the sentiment despite everything you'd been through together, "It's what I do," he replied gruffly...
You smiled, settling beside him, head pillowed on his broad shoulder, half your body hanging off the tiny bed as he wrapped his arm around you, pulling you to him best he could, "You're going to wake up with an achy back tomorrow."
"Don't give a damn," he grunted, pressing his face into the top of your head, "can't really move when I've got two brats sleeping on me."
You chuckle softly, letting your eyes flutter shut, enjoying his warmth, the steady sound of his heart beating under your ear and the soft sounds of your daughter's breathing, "You could, if you wanted."
"You done yapping? You're keeping me up… Go the fuck to sleep already." his arm tightened around you, holding you against him, his own eyes closing finally.
You smiled, knowing that he'd never admit he loved being in this position- surrounded by the two of you,
You caught one last glimpse of him adjusting his daughter more comfortably against his chest, his large hand cradling her head with impossible gentleness. The most feared man in the city, reduced to nothing more than a pillow for his daughter and her mother.
"Rest well, little lamb," his voice fading as he said the nickname reserved only for you, muffled by your hair as his lips grazed the crown of your head.
୨୧ ― Gojo Satoru just can’t help himself when he see’s you in cute lingerie ~
"Cover those pretty eyes of your! And no peeking or i'm changing back!" You warn, adjusting the cute cow horns atop your head nervously.
"But baaaabbby, im dying over here" Gojo whines dramatically, hand pressed firmly over his eyes as he waits on the bed. "What if you're so cute i actually explode? You'll have to explain to our child why their daddy spontaneously combusted… What if i just use one eye-"
"D- don't you dare!" You huff, cheeks flushing. You knew he was being silly, but… you wanted him to be surprised! You take a deep breath, trying to calm down.
Gojo softens, his heart fluttering in his chest, "what about half an eye?"
"Satoru!"
"Sorry sorry," Gojo chuckles, grinning, "I'm just teasing, babe. I know you're excited~ They're covered, i promise."
"Promise you won't laugh?"
"Could never at you~"
When you finally give permission, his hand drops and his entire expression melts into one of pure adoration, "Oh baby…" He murmurs softly, sitting up from his spot on the bed as he engraves this moment into his memory. How you went out of your way to dress-up just for him, how the cow-print lingerie was practically painted on your skin and that growing belly of yours, how the garter belt accentuated the shape of your hips…
You were perfect.
You fidget nervously, your face flushing. Gojo stares at you, his mouth slightly agape. It wasn't that he was speechless, it was more like he couldn't speak, didn't have the words to tell you just how much you meant to him, how beautiful you were, and how lucky he felt to call you his own.
"Y- you can't just stare at me like that, Toru! I- I feel huge…"
"Really really." He hums, eyes still glued to you, "Actually, i've had a surprise for you too, sweetheart~" He coos, pulling out a box from under the bed, "Now it's your turn to close those pretty eyes of yours~"
You blink, "Satoru, what-?"
"Trust me~" Gojo grins, "and don't peek." he gives you a wink.
Before you can start to feel self conscious again, you feel yourself being scooped up bridal style, "Yeeehaw!!!" he hollers playfully, twirling you around as you giggle and cling to him, "Look what i caught myself, the prettiest cow in all of Japan~"
Your eyes open to find Gojo in nothing but a cowboy hat and a red bandana around his neck.
"Should we see if you're ready to be milked yet, doll~?" Gojo purrs, carrying you back to the bed and gently laying you down.
"You're so ridiculous, oh my god! I can't believe i let you get me pregnant," you giggle as he crawls over you, kissing you tenderly.
"but you love me~"
"i do." you smile as he presses his forehead against yours, "So very much…"
"You're my whole world, baby. Now… Moo-ve over sugar, this cowboy's about to show you a good time~"
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╰┈➤ Toji Fushiguro, but it's those massive hands gripping your throat while he pounds you against the wall, leaving nice handprint bruises that mark you for days while his fat cock stirs up your insides. His fingers squeezing just enough to make your mind foggy and your vision blur as he praises in your ear what a good slut you are, taking his cock so deep.
"Tooojiiii! fuck, i- i can't-hnnnng~ i can't brea-the, i- hah~ p-please-ahn!"
His grip tightens slightly, but he releases it just in time before you can blackout, and you greedily take a few desperate gasps, his cock hitting you so deep you swear you can feel him in your tummy.
"I can feel my dick hitting your womb," he tilts his head back, "going to fuck my little brat so hard, fill your tight pussy full of my cum til' you're overflowing with it. Would'ya like that?
He's grinning, knowing he's got you, and all you can do is nod, mouth open in a silent scream as you cream around him.
୨୧ — Imagine Nanami cradling his newborn daughter tenderly. His blonde locks that were once neatly slicked back now messily frame his face- serving as playthings for tiny, curious hands. The infant giggles, gripping and curling her fingers, attempting to grab at her father's hair with pure delight. Nanami's heart swelled, a genuine smile appearing across his face.
"Ya know... Fatherhood really suits you, you know that?" You murmured, resting your head against his arm.
Nanami looked down at you, his eyes- always so tired from the cruelties of the world and working far too much, were now soft with affection, "I never thought I would have a life like this... I always felt it was far out of my reach..."
"Kento..."
He brought his daughter up to his face, his lips pressing a kiss to her forehead. His voice was a low whisper, yet you still managed to hear his words, "I love you. Both of you. More than anything in the world."
You could see it, not only in his smile, but his eyes as well... they held some fear. Afraid of the life he led, afraid of it coming to take the family he had so lovingly built away from him. Nanami had seen much in his time as a sorcerer. The loss of people dear to him- their deaths never failing to haunt him... He was scared... Scared of leaving you both behind, scared of the what-ifs...
"Kento, you worry far too much. I promise we'll be here, right by your side. Always and forever, okay? You're always going to awaken to me in your strong arms." You give his bicep a soft squeeze, "no way anyone could get past these bad boys."
A low chuckle rumbled in his throat, holding his baby girl in one arm, he used the one you squeezed to bring you into a loving embrace, drawing you even closer to his body. Drawing you closer into his world, a world he once thought would be forever in solitude. This was all a simple moment, but Nanami felt the full weight of this newfound joy- the joy of being a father and a loving husband to you. No could've prepared him for this profound privilege.
You were his home. And for the first time, he allowed himself to relax and trust in your words... that everything would be alright...
