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theangeltopaz · 6 days ago

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You’re not his pet anymore. He’s yours.

gender neutral + toxic reader x traumatized whitney

post underground brothel scenario, roughly 1.2k words! no NSFW + canon typical mentions of rape/violence

Whitney isn’t the same anymore. He hasn’t been since the day he’d been thrown into that van, sobbing and struggling against a man far bigger than both of you, to pay for what he had tried to do to you.

You don’t know what happened to him in the underground brothel, but you know it couldn’t have been good. That’s why you helped him, after all. Because he was suffering and you have a conscience, right? Because even bad people don’t deserve something like that, to be pawned off to even worse people for scraps of cash, right?

That must be right. You aren’t a bad person.

You brush a lock of hair away from his pale face and feel the way he flinches with his whole body, the tremor jolting your lap where his head is warily resting. His eyes are red around rims — they often are nowadays, like he can’t bring himself to sleep or stop crying — and his cheeks are a little sunken. They didn’t feed him much down there, you guess. He probably didn’t have an appetite to begin with.

You’ve tried to get him to try broth to put some weight back on his bones, since solid meat is out of the question, but he just coughed it up, sobbed, apologized for the mess. Then he tried to lick it off your lap.

Whenever he begs for your forgiveness like that, your heart twists up in your chest. The poor thing. He’s so scared, so pathetic, and the only thing in the world he can rely on is you. And he hated you so much before, enough to want you dead. Now you’re his savior and all he can do is kiss the ground you walk on, and pray you don’t leave him behind.

Your lips tremble up into a smile but you force it back down before he can see. There’s a sort of satisfaction in his fall from grace. Or there would be, if you were a bad person. You pet his hair as a silent apology.

Still, you can't waste the day away doing nothing but reminiscing. It’s almost noon on a Saturday. You’re sacrificing time and money just to take care of this pitiful creature you’ve taken responsibility for. You keep your voice soft and low, like he’s an animal you don’t want to scare away, and you speak to him. “Whitney,” you murmur and he jumps like he’s frightened anyways. “Is there anything you’d like to do today?”

He doesn’t respond for a moment. His eyes dart up and run over your face like he’s gauging what your mood is, what the best response is going to be. They’re still a pretty shade of blue but they’re always glazed over nowadays.

He seems to realize you’re actually asking for a response and not just creating an opportunity to wedge something between his lips. Or making up an excuse to hit him. “I…” His shoulders tense before his head tilts on your lap, lifeless. “…There’s nothing. Sorry. Thanks.”

Sorry, thank you is his mantra recently. If he’s hungry, tired, needs to use the bathroom or speaks aloud, even, it tumbles from his mouth. Sorry for existing. Thank you for dealing with me. He’s so cute it’s almost painful.

“There’s really nothing?” You ask, cupping his cheek. His whole body freezes and you relish it, the stiffness of his neck and shoulders pressing into you and you have control, even if you would never abuse it. Not like he would’ve done to you before. “We can go on a walk. The cafe by the beach is open now, and it’s got a pretty view of the water. Or we can visit the docks. You used to like watching the ships come in, didn’t you?”

He shivers. It’s a little tremor, starting at his fingertips, and he can’t quite repress it. “N-No, thank you. I don’t… I-I want to stay here. With you.” His voice cracks and his cheeks color. It’s progress that he’s asserting his own will but he’s embarrassed. Even when he’s been so thoroughly broken he still finds the idea of begging you repugnant. That, too, is adorable.

You keep pushing him. “Really? It’s okay. You don’t have to lie to me.” You lean over him, and your hair brushes your cheeks. The shadow it casts feels like a curtain separating the two of you from the rest of the world. “We can do whatever you like.”

“There isn’t…” he croaks. He looks nervous now. Like he’s picking the wrong answer. He’s waiting for a punishment, or to be forced onto your mattress. You wonder what other sorts of things they did to him there. The tense winding of his body tells you he’s ready to escape, although it’s been beaten into him not to try.

You lean down even further. His heart is thumping so hard that his pulse is visible through his skin, the twitching on his neck fascinating to witness. Your fingers caress his skin — it’s clammy yet soft from where you’ve been taking care of him. “I know,” you say. You fake having a light bulb moment, as if this wasn’t your intention all along. Your eyes meet. “Why don’t we go visit your friends? I think they still miss you.”

You don’t just think that’s the case. You know it. The missing poster you've ripped from the wall at school and plastered above your own bed is evidence. They’ll never know he’s here with you. Yours.

That soft comment is enough to push him over, to make him jolt upright, almost knocking your foreheads together. He doesn’t outright grab your shoulders but he knocks you to the bed, leans over your body and cages you with his arms. His eyes are wide and desperate. Before his kidnapping, he always looked so flawlessly put together. Wild, but calculatedly so. Now his hair sticks up in every direction even though you brush it every morning and night. “No!” He pleads. If anyone were next door, they’d have heard it. “Don’t you fucking dare! I don’t want — nobody, nobody can see me like…”

Like this. All fucked up and broken. Whitney catches a glance of himself in the reflection of your eyes and all of the color drains from his already pale face.

Instantly, what he’s done catches up to him. He recoils so severely that he falls backwards off the bed and onto the floor with a loud thud. You stay in place and merely listen as he begs for your forgiveness. Fuck, I’m sorry — no, I didn’t mean to — please, don’t do it, it was an accident — I won’t touch you again just don’t make me do it I don’t want to do it anymore, I’m sorry — !

You can't help it. Laying back where he’d tackled you over, you lock eyes with the bright eyed Whitney on the poster hanging on your wall. And a big smile breaks out across your face.

Because, maybe just a little bit, you’re a bad person.

#more pathetic Whitney!!!#we are in a desperate drought of pathetic Whitney #whitney dol #whitney the bully #dol whitney #whitney degrees of lewdity #degrees of lewdity #dol #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪𖤐 reblogs

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theangeltopaz · 1 month ago

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SMOKE & CARAMEL !?

synopsis. sukuna has never believed in soulmates by scent. but when an incident ends up with him in heat and in the care of you, the campus fuckboy, his omega starts reacting strangely to your scent and only yours. wc. 6.5k

tags. top alpha! reader, bottom omega! sukuna. reader has a cock, sukuna has a pussy. porn with plot. service top reader. soft sukuna. rough vaginal sex, creampie, unsafe sex, scent kink, primal behaviour, slight predator/prey, implied size difference, knotting, marking, fingering, slick-eating, breeding kink. catching feelings, obsession with scents, jealousy, mild angst, attempt at humour, domestic fluff, hoodie-stealing, sukuna drowning in your clothes for at least 2k. you call each other alpha & omega. literal whipped behaviour. reader’s more of a loser than a fuckboy but he has insane dick game so it makes up for it. general overuse of the word 'fuck'.

a/n. get ready to be romanced (or not)

Sukuna hadn’t meant to eavesdrop at first. It had only been an accident.

It didn’t help that there was no way in hell to avoid the latest and hottest talk of the campus—some alpha slash fuckboy who apparently had a reputation for bedding more than half the premises, and was now rabidly tearing his way through the bag of fresh meat he had recently discovered: the IT Department.

Namely, Sukuna’s own.

He’d seen you on campus more than a couple times himself, all sunlit smile and crescent-shaped eyes, your pretty face and friendly demeanour a façade for your astronomical body count. Just another regular alpha who walked around with his dick slung across his shoulder, and had ballsacks for brains. There was nothing inherently special about that.

The omega side-eyed the two blondes gossiping animatedly in his peripheral vision, doing anything, anything to distract himself from the sticky beads of sweat building on the back of his neck, now slithering downwards, each droplet seeping into the warm collar of his shirt, each one reminding him of his coming heat.

Fuck. Sukuna feels like a wet sopping mess, and he hates that one fucking alpha already.

The taller one—a beta?—with the ginormous rack was saying something. Sukuna couldn’t help but sneak a self-conscious glance at his own chest beneath his virtually soaked-till-see-through top, silently comparing, before returning his attention to the shrill, feminine voice.

“Don’t get me wrong, he’s a great fuck, but he’s just, you know… way too intense? It’s not a bad thing or anything, but the last time we spent the night together, I could barely walk straight nor sit down properly for a week afterwards despite how insistent he was with aftercare. It was awful, let me tell you.”

More obnoxious giggling. Fucking pests. Sukuna wanted to squash them with his fists.

What bloody luck, to be caught up in both his pre-heat and the damned weather and now having to endure whatever-the-fuck this is. Sukuna thinks he might have massacred a village or two in his past life to be subjected to such torture.

Glasses Girl to his right looked positively dumbfounded. Sukuna couldn’t blame her. The aftermath of one week was a lot, after all.

“So he wasn’t even in his rut or anything? He just got into it straight away and made you take his knot, ground and pound? Damn it, I’m sooo jealous! My ex couldn’t even get it up for me—his sex drive sounds like literal heaven.”

“You know he literally fucks anything that walks on two legs, right? You could always just ask him.”

They shared an ear-piercing laugh, and Sukuna wanted to maybe set himself on fire.

“No way! I’m too shy. He’d probably tease me for it, and that’d be embarrassing…”

“He’s not that kind of person! Believe it or not, he’s really gentle when we’re not having sex. Not what you’d normally expect from an alpha like him. I swear, if he wasn’t such a fuckboy, he would have a whole line of people queuing up for a chance to date him. It’s a shame that he can’t keep it in his pants for more than a day.”

Who the hell was this guy and who did he think he was?

Fucking alphas. Fucking fuckboys. Sukuna swore under his breath for the umpteenth time that day. Sukuna loathed them. He didn’t need them. He didn’t need you, either, no matter how attractive you looked, or how appetizing the prospect of taking your knot sounded, or how you were the disgustingly right amount of rough and grabby with your partners, or, contrastingly, how gentle you were with them outside of the bedroom.

He didn’t need any of that—he had always managed just fine by himself. Right? Right?

He would take such good care of us, his heat-sick omega crooned. He’d be the perfect alpha for us. The perfect father for our pups. Our alpha. Ours.

The smell of burnt caramel penetrated the air, the scent sweet and striking, making his own knees buckle and passersby turn their heads in shock. Stars spiralled across his vision in fizzles. There was a wetness steadily building between his thighs. An image of you appeared in his head, with you looking down at him from between his spread legs, hulking and predatory as you cooed omega at him.

And before Sukuna knew it, he was in heat, and it was all because of you.

So good, his omega warbled on, even in his dreams. He’s taking care of us so well, so good.

Waking up in an unknown bedroom was the last thing Sukuna expected when he blinked his eyes open. After all, he wasn’t exactly the nicest, most reputable guy on campus—whoever had been willing to take him in after he had hardly managed to half-crawl, half-drag himself back to where the dorms were before his legs gave out, must have had a heart of gold.

The bed was comfortable, that was for sure, warm and cozy with soft pillows stuffed all around him, distracting him from the uncomfortable sweat that clung to him like a second layer of skin. He wouldn’t be surprised if whoever took care of him was a fellow omega, considering how they knew exactly what to do.

There was one thing that stood out in particular, though. It smelt so fucking good.

Woodsmoke and spicy pine, with a hint of honey beneath. It was addicting, and the pillow his head rested on practically oozed the mouth-watering scent. Sukuna groaned, turning his head to press his face into the cushy goodness, the thick, tangy smell of smoke attacking his nose as a surge of warmth zapped down his belly and welded itself into his throbbing crotch.

Right. He was still in heat, albeit it wasn’t as strong or prominent as before. Sukuna flexed his aching thighs, parting them to examine the wetness, only to discover that his old shirt had been removed—he was drowning in a snug hoodie with the same smell as the pillow roughly two, three times bigger than his own size, his likely slick-saturated pants gone and replaced with a pair of shorts.

It took him less than five seconds to analyse the situation.

Sukuna’s heart thudded rapidly in his chest as he pushed away all thoughts of his lust-clouded omegan brain. This was the fucking worst. Whoever took him in must have touched him, seen him at his most vulnerable. And the scent itself was strange enough. It wasn’t sweet, nor floral. Not omega-like. It spread out in the room like hefty, clustered clouds on a stormy night, like it was establishing territory instead of home.

Whoever owned this room wasn’t an omega. Whoever owned this room was anything but omega.

Sukuna screwed his eyes shut, trying to get his breathing under control. He wasn’t aching anywhere inside, despite the usual muscle contractions that came with his heats. He was fine, he hadn’t been taken advantage of. But that didn’t change the fact that this entire ordeal was weird.

Why would any alpha willingly help out a heat-crazed omega—providing him with all the right nesting materials, dressing him in clothing items soaked with his scent, and leaving him to himself despite the pheromones he was pumping out by the second, that his body produced to attract, to mate?

Sukuna was beyond confused. His head hurt, the heat and sweat making it hard to think. But he couldn’t stay here forever, lazing on some stranger alpha’s bed, like helpless prey waiting for a predator to lose control and pounce. He gathered himself the best he could, collecting his phone and dorm keys that were placed on the nightstand, hastily wiping his slick on the bedsheets, before making his way towards the door on wobbly legs.

Until something caught his eye.

Stuck onto the wooden desk was a bright-coloured sticky note, the light and tidy scrawl unfamiliar. He squinted, before ripping it off to read it properly.

Hey. I found you on the floor in front of my dorm. You seemed exhausted, so I took you in and gave you some clothes to change into. I tried asking around for help, but nobody knew who you were.

Please help yourself to the snacks and water on the counter. I’ll be home soon, little omega.

He glanced up, and surely enough, there was an abundance of candy and chocolate as well as water bottles piled neatly on the counter in the corner of the room, like the alpha who set them there actually wanted to dote on him like a loving mate would. Like Sukuna actually was his little omega.

And if that wasn’t humiliating enough, Sukuna wanted to cry when he read the sign-off at the bottom of the note with the stupid ‘:)’ emoticon next to it. What the hell, nothing about this outcome was happy. Out of all the alphas on campus, of course it had to be you. The campus fuckboy. What was this, fucking fanfiction?

He couldn’t believe it.

Sukuna choked back a growl, tearing the sticky note into shreds before he violently swung the door open, an embarrassing whimper leaving him when the force made his shoulder ache. Immediately, a cacophony of scents from the hallway attacked his senses to the point where it made him balk, bile rising in his throat. The woodsmoke spilling out from the room behind him shrouded his frame, soothing his distress like a balm.

Sukuna let out a shaky sigh, letting his omega take comfort in it for a brief second. In the next, he was making his way down the empty hall, ignoring the throbbing ache between his thighs to the best of his walking ability, the yearning and sorrow threatening to consume him wholly, of leaving the den of the one alpha that had protected him and taken good care of him, in the tempest of his heat.

In the span of the next couple of weeks, Sukuna could not physically bring himself to part with any of the clothing items you had borrowed him.

Especially your hoodie. The fleece was perfect for trapping warmth, and it stretched deliciously all the way down his thighs, your smoky scent enveloping him like a bubble of year-long balmy weather. His heat had gradually faded away, but his omega had gotten so attached to your scent already, having spent hours scent-drunk on it. Multiple times he had found himself walking in the wrong direction of the hallway while spacing out, following the faint scent trail of smoke to your dorm, rather than his own.

It was infatuation, he concluded. There was no other explanation for the raw, blistering obsession that ravaged his being, thoughts of you filling the entirety of his day and night, swarming his dreams in a haze of frantic heat and acidic smoke, where he would wake up every day with his hand between his legs and his sheets soaked-through with slick.

Sukuna wasn’t insecure in his own identity as an omega. In fact, Sukuna had never been insecure in any aspect of his life regarding his sub-gender and whatnot. He was no stranger to alphas being attracted to him, relished in this power, even, but never in his life had he ever felt desire for an alpha so strong to the point where he could feel it writhing and alive in his insides, like someone had planted a seed of heat in his belly and it had taken root.

Ever since that day, like an itchy parasite finally digging itself into his skin and spreading its pathogens, Sukuna started noticing you everywhere.

The slightest hint of your scent and presence made him snap his head in your direction, his heart sent into a pulsating frenzy, his core already aching and spilling. He wanted you to the point where he felt as though he were drowning with it all, like all of his blood had been drained out and replaced with an aphrodisiac, like he was suffocating and you were his last possible breath of air.

It was all kinds of fucking sad, really, because probably didn’t care about his existence more than you cared about any of your bed partners. And the thing was, Sukuna wasn’t even a bed partner to you. Just another little omega you happened to find on your doorstep and had taken pity on.

There was nothing inherently special about that.

Class ended in a blur and Sukuna headed to the campus cafeteria for lunch, pretending not to hear the now-familiar laughter ringing from behind, a sign that you were close by with your rambunctious friend group that he pointedly avoided. He grabbed his tray of curry and rice and found a spot where he could eat peacefully, preferably alone—until a warm palm settled on his shoulder.

Sukuna choked down his bite of food and spun around with the nastiest glare he could manage.

“What do you fucking want?”

Woodsmoke and pine.

Oh.

Your hand retreated before Sukuna could even mourn the loss of its warmth, and you brought them up in mock surrender, careful not to agitate the omega further. “Sorry. I was just wondering if you were Sukuna?”

“Yeah,” Sukuna muttered, throat dry. And to make matters worse, “You didn’t answer my question.”

It was overwhelming. You were so close, and yet so far from him. The spice in your scent overpowering the sweet, woodsy undertones of honey. Shoulders hunching in like a wary animal, so very conscious of your body language and posture so as to not come off as a perpetrator to a disconcerted omega.

He’s so attentive, our sweet alpha. Always so good to us, his omega trilled, and Sukuna scowled, suppressing the voice until only static ran rampant in his head.

“Ah, I thought so. I asked around for your name.” You nodded, giving him a warm smile. Sukuna hadn’t yet the opportunity to appreciate how darned handsome you looked, but now you were right there, smiling in front of him, and it was going to be the death of him. “Sorry for approaching you like this. I’m not sure if you recall, but a few weeks ago, you were, well…”

Some fuckboy you were, fumbling over your words at the mention of an omega in heat, like it wasn’t simply routine to you at this point. Sukuna bit down a laugh.

“In heat?” He cut you off, and you brightened, nodding. “Yeah, I’m aware. What about it?”

“I’m so glad you remember. Well, when I came back to the dorm, you were gone? And if I’m not mistaken, I think you took the clothes I borrowed to you? It’s okay if you want to keep them, they’re not that important, but I just—”

“You’re rambling, alpha.”

You froze.

“Just say that you want them back. I’ll wash them and return them to you tomorrow.”

Sukuna wasn’t even looking at you anymore, his gaze bored as he feigned checking the scraped black paint on his nails, but the slightly bitter edge in his scent told a different story. How lousy, you scolded yourself. You’ve made him upset.

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you began slowly, carefully. “You can keep them. If it helps.”

“If it helps?” Sukuna echoed, glancing up at you through his lashes.

“I know how some omegas find certain scents comforting to them,” you clarified quickly, despite the thoughts of heat heat heat omega heat parading through your mind, memories of him writhing and whimpering in your scented hoodie having monopolized you every thought for the past several weeks. “If mine helps with… that, then. I’d be happy to lend you my clothes.”

You stared at him, waiting for his answer, your face hot and heart jackrabbiting in your chest.

And something miraculous happened.

Sukuna laughed.

“You don’t even know me,” he said. “And you want to lend me your clothes? Isn’t that a bit bold, even for an alpha like you?”

You frowned, mildly insulted. “What do you mean ‘an alpha like me’?”

“Are you denying it?”

You couldn’t even if you wanted to.

“... No.”

There was something different in his gaze, then, when it settled on you, something like amusement but a touch fonder. It squeezed itself into the cage of your ribs, made you want to burst, bones clattering to the ground and freeing the bluebird trapped within, the one that sang out for the one omega you couldn’t manage to forget no matter how hard you tried.

“You’re cute,” Sukuna said, like his own heart wasn’t in disarray. “Give me your number. I’ll text you whenever I feel like making you lend your clothes to me.”

You sucked in a breath, and high-fived yourself internally. This was progress, no matter how strangely he worded it.

You passed him your phone and you exchanged numbers quickly, and Sukuna turned back to enjoy his lunch. You clenched your eyes shut and held back a groan when you read the contact name he entered on your phone. Was he trying to kill you?

Little omega

“Hey, Sukuna?”

“What?”

“My scent. Is it really comforting to you?”

“Yes, alpha,” the omega replied, easy as day, as though his words didn’t have an iron grip on your insides, constantly sending your heart into turmoil, wave by wave. “It’s a comfort.”

The next time Sukuna saw you (that was neither to pick up nor return certain clothing items), it was at a frat party.

He couldn’t help that it was just so damn easy to spot you in the crowd. And you looked so fucking good, as usual, to the point where it drove him up the wall, made his blood boil with want. It was barely the start of the night, but he was all wrapped up in your oversized sweater and just the smoky scent of you was, albeit faint, right there across the room. It was enough to get him wet with slick.

Sukuna sipped idly on his cheap corner store liquor and lukewarm soda concoction, and it tasted positively disgusting, but at that point, he was already too tipsy to give a fuck. You, on the other hand… fuck. He wasn’t even sure how many fucks he’d give if only it could finally get your hands on him, all over him, inside him.

And yet you were so far away, absorbed in conversation with someone else.

Someone else.

Sukuna scowled, a petty snarl rising in his throat. Was that fucking Glasses Girl you were talking to? The one who said your sex drive sounded like heaven? The one who said she wanted to fuck you? That Glasses Girl?

Shit. Was she shooting her shot at you?

He watched as Glasses Girl tucked a strand of pretty blonde hair behind her ear, clearly flirting. Watched you smile at her. Give her the fond look you would give him whenever he would slip into one of your hoodies in front of you, nuzzling his face into the scented fabric. Like she was someone to you.

Someone you’d be taking to bed later that night, anyway.

Were you being serious right now?

Sukuna couldn’t help the hurt whimper that tore from his throat.

You know he literally fucks anything that walks on two legs, right?

Of course, he lamented in his head. What did he even expect of a fuckboy? All that show and Sukuna had actually let himself think, for a second, that you were courting him. Turned out he had just been fresh meat skewered on two sticks, and now you’re bored of his taste and moving on to someone new. Someone better, someone prettier.

Sukuna really fucking hated Glasses Girl. He really fucking hated you, too.

You never deserved him.

He knocked back the last of his solo cup and tossed it away, the bitter blend making him gag. He needed to get out of here. He only came for you in the first place, anyway.

But before he could move much, someone shifted in front of him, blocking his way to the entrance. Sukuna snarled at the thick, tangy smell of woodsmoke filling the space around him, his omega immediately warbling and pumping out feel-good pheromones that clashed with his distress.

“Move, alpha, before I make you.”

Your brows furrowed, nose wrinkling at the strange sweet-and-sour scent coming from the omega. “What? You’re leaving already? But you just got here not long ago.”

“Funny how you still had time to watch me while you were eye-fucking Glasses Girl.”

“Glasses Girl?”

“That.” He pointed one sharp, painted fingernail into the distance at the girl you were just talking to, his face contorting with disgust.

“I wasn’t eye-fucking her. You’re misunderstanding. She was hitting on me alright, but I said no.”

Sukuna paused, your words fuzzing through his brain like static.

“You said… no.”

“Yes, omega. I said no, because I’m not interested.”

Sukuna took his time to digest that. You’re confusing the fuck out of him.

“She is a pretty omega.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, and Sukuna frowned, heart twisting uncomfortably in his chest. “But she’s not what I want.”

“You want everything,” he accused, sneering. “You want to stick your dick in everything that walks on two legs.”

You choked. “Now that’s just mean.”

“Big Tits said so.”

“What?”

“I said—”

“You know what,” you cut him off, “I don’t even want to know. You’re drunk, and if you’re leaving, I’m taking you home.”

A heavy fist landed on your chest, making you wince.

“Stupid alpha,” Sukuna cursed under his breath, “always making my heart fucking hurt.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you crooned, pulling him into your arms, wanting nothing more than to kiss his face, your pretty omega’s face. “Alpha’s sorry. Let’s get you home.”

“Your room?” he asked, quietly, face smushed against your shoulder.

“Yeah. My room.”

Sukuna woke up drowning in fluffy pillows and wearing your freshly scented hoodie again, and he decided, in less than a split second, that it was more than enough to compensate for last night.

He shifted to his side to face you, squinting at the sunrays leaking through the windows, casting a golden light on your skin. His head didn’t hurt as much as he expected it to, nor did he smell like cheap alcohol—you must have made him take a shower and drink plenty of water before letting him sleep.

Good alpha good alpha good alpha so good to us always so good

It was still way too fucking early for his omegan brain to start acting up again, but you were making it so hard not to with everything you did. So much for the fuckboy reputation, when this was what you really were. Some strange gentle alpha with a soft spot for him.

The longer he stared at you, the harder his heart ached. Sukuna had never known this feeling before. It was something so impossibly all-encompassing, something that ran all the way from the tips of his toes to his muddled-up head, made his blood course fast and hard, body warm all over, heart trembling and shaking with the intensity of it.

Sukuna had never believed in soulmates before, but now, but now…

I love you

He flushed at the thought, jerking away from you, his heart drumming in his chest. Fuck, you were driving him crazy.

And you just had to pick that moment to blink your eyes open, pupils dilating at the sight of him as you stared at him sleepily.

“S’kuna?” you rasped, choosing not to be confused by his startled reaction. “Did you sleep well?”

He nodded. “Gonna brush my teeth.”

And of course you already had a new toothbrush set aside for him next to the sink, a cup for him to rinse his mouth with. He squirted toothpaste on the brush and shuddered when the bathroom started filling up with the smell of smoke and two warm palms settled on his waist in tandem, the heat seeping into him through the layer of fabric.

It was one thing to sleep on the same bed as you in an open room, and another thing to be crowded against the sink, the only lungfuls of air he could take in being tainted with your heavy scent. He finished brushing his teeth, spitting out the water before looking up the mirror to meet your smouldering gaze.

You stepped closer, and his breath hitched when your morning wood pressed against his ass.

“Brush your teeth,” Sukuna ordered, lowly. “I am not kissing you without.”

He shoved you away when you grabbed at him, fixing you with a stern glare, to which you complied with, grabbing your toothbrush with a defeated sigh.

Fuck, he was getting wet. Had been, for a while, since he woke up with his senses drenched with spicy woodsmoke and now he was downright soaked. He had roughly thirty seconds before you were done, and once those thirty seconds were up, you were going to come for him.

He flung off his sodden shorts and briefs, leaving them strewn across the floor in a messy pile, wanting to take off your hoodie but then deciding against it. His hands expeditiously fixed the nest of pillows and blankets that had gotten dishevelled when you left the bed, before climbing into it and carefully settling in the middle, facing the entrance of the bathroom where you were going to come out any time now.

And you did, stepping out in all of your naked glory, pupils blown to the point where there was hardly any space left for the irises, a golden tint within, something wild, something feral.

Sukuna smiled at you then, sharp and sinister. And then spread his legs at you.

An onslaught of burnt caramel assaulted your face, and you seized a breath, trying to control yourself as you looked at your omega in his beauty, all naked and bare for your eyes.

His cunt was glistening prettily with slick, his hard, wet clit peeking out cutely between messy folds, the surrounding pink pubic hair sticky and matted and begging to be licked. Your hoodie had ridden up with the action, exposing his soft, bare thighs that were opened invitingly, and you wanted to bite and bruise them, mark them as your territory.

Sukuna was the single most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

You wanted to ruin him.

“Well?” the omega asked, smug from your reaction, putting an end to the staring contest between you and his pussy.

“You’re beautiful, omega.”

“I know,” he replied softly, but there was an unmistakable quaver in his voice. “Do something about it, alpha.”

You snarled at the challenge, swiftly making your way over and crawling up onto the bed, looming over your omega, who had his elbows propped behind him. He was glancing up at you, all pretty lashes and something sugary in his usually darker, richer scent, and you grabbed one of his ankles and yanked him towards you, making him yelp and fall flat on his back.

“So fucking beautiful,” you whispered, pressing a tender kiss to the spot right beneath the jutting bone of his ankle before letting him go. Sukuna shuddered, wrapping his legs around your waist to pull you closer, just like he had been imagining this exact scene a thousand times over.

Most of your hoodie was scrunched up by his chest, now, exposing his abdomen, and your hands reached out to greedily grope the curve of his hips and waist, feeling the gentle bumps of his ribs, everywhere that they could reach. You wanted to take the entire thing off, but Sukuna stopped you before you could.

“Behave, alpha, and I’ll let you.”

You frowned, your alpha not used to not getting what it wanted, but you would do anything for Sukuna. For your omega. Anything to make him feel happy and safe, even if it came with a cost.

“Let me kiss you, at least,” you muttered. Begged. You weren’t sure how long you would be able to hold back without getting one taste of him. “Please, omega.”

“Okay,” Sukuna agreed, his arms going around your neck. “You can kiss me, alpha.”

You leaned down to press your lips against his plush ones, and it was the newest best thing you had ever felt, because everything you did that revolved around Sukuna was the best—with each one better than the last. Today was kissing.

You held back a whimper when he tugged on your hair, parting his lips and trying to get your tongue into his mouth. You did exactly that, the kiss getting hungry and messy when he moaned and sucked eagerly on the wet muscle like his life depended on it, as though he were trying to give it a hickey of its own.

Saliva spilled down his chin and you wiped it off with your thumb, breaking the kiss to bring it into your mouth, lapping up the excess spit, the display erotic.

Sukuna whimpered at the sight, before parting his thighs again, trying to get your attention somewhere else. “Get your fingers in me, now,” he panted, “Need you in me, inside me right now, alpha.”

You rubbed the pads of your fingers on his pussy, the sweet caramel slick flooding out in copious amounts, making him whine and writh. You had seen all sorts of things before, cocks and cunts alike, but you swore you had never had pussy like this before, pussy this pretty, pussy this delicious—sopping wet and soaking right through the sheets, smelling like the fucking food of the gods.

“I need to- to taste you,” you managed, choking back a sob. “Please, sweet omega. You smell so, so good.”

Sukuna craned his head to glance at you, panting softly. “Alpha,” he let out a soft trill, “I am yours.”

“My good omega,” you praised, and wasted no time in shifting to your knees, his thighs slung over your shoulders to clamp around your head. You could feel your mouth watering, saliva forming a pool beneath your tongue as you slowly pressed your face into his sweet-smelling crotch, his pussy wet and hot and right up against your face. “So beautiful, smells so good.”

You gently traced a finger up the expanse of his pussy all the way to his hard clit, the slick gluing his folds together. Sukuna’s hips jumped, only for you to hold them down. Making eye contact with him, you brought the slick-drenched finger to your lips, giving it a wet suck, the intense flavour of salt and caramel bursting in your mouth. Sukuna whined when you growled, fingers digging into the jut of his hipbones.

“Mine,” you muttered, pressing your face back into the warm wetness before lapping up the slick, the sticky substance steadily seeping out from his hole like a fountain quenching your undying thirst. You pulled away to suck in a few harsh breaths, already drunk on the scent of his arousal. “Must’ve been hard, being wet all the time around me. Don’t- don’t think I didn’t notice, Sukuna. Did you have any idea how hard it was to hold back from just bending you over and taking what I want all the time? Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

You were three seconds from fucking crying, all your past frustrations rushing back to the present, the way he would often press his nose into the collar of your shirt on purpose, drowning in your scent and clothes all the time on campus, making sure you could smell you on him whenever he went over to your dorm to return your clothes, or just any time you saw him, really.

“Did it- on purpose,” Sukuna choked out, throwing his head back and panting. “Did it so I could, haah, get your hands on me, alpha.”

“You’ve ruined me for anyone else,” you whispered, and it’s drawn out of you like water from the depths of a well, a truth coming to light for the first time you had seen your omega and your body and instincts had decided that he was the one. “I can’t- I can’t have anyone else when you exist.”

“Good,” Sukuna whispered, and you pressed a finger inside him, the minimal stretch making him ache just right. “Don’t want you having anyone else when- when you can have me.”

You already have me, Sukuna thought, a silent sob wracking its way through his body when you crooked your finger, pressing against the one spot that made him see stars.

“Don’t you know how much I’ve suffered for you, omega?” you murmured into the tender meat of his inner thigh, deciding that he was loose enough for another finger, to which you slid in next to the first, scissoring them experimentally and making your omega cry out at the burn. “I waited for you. How could you be so cruel to your own alpha? Don’t you love him?”

“Love him,” Sukuna shuddered sweetly, the words leaving his lips without much thought. “Love you.”

His words were thunder, the bolt blasting straight through your heart to the point where you thought it had to crack at some point, but it held through. Love you.

“Alpha,” he whimpered, and you hadn’t noticed, but he had slid his own finger along your two, inserting it deep into his own cunt. “Three fingers already. I’m ready.”

“Are you su—”

“You better mess me up real fucking good, just like this,” Sukuna cut you off, “No more stretching unless you want to make your omega upset, alpha.”

The decision was not yours. None of it was ever yours, in the first place. You were so fucking whipped for this omega you had no idea what to do with yourself anymore.

You fervidly shook your head to his warning, briskly clambering up to settle between his legs once again, this time hooking your palms behind his knees to bend his knees to his ribs, his ankles right by his ears, folding him properly. You took a moment to admire the breathtaking sight of your omega spread out and open, pretty cunt facing you, stretched out and ready to be taken.

“I’m ready,” Sukuna repeated impatiently, nudging his hips up so that the thick tip of your cock smushed against his slicked-up folds, making the both of you moan.

You loosely tapped the head on his cunt a few more times, until it was getting torturous for the both of you—positioned it at the entrance, and pressed in, in, and in—and somehow you’d properly stretched him but it’s still so fucking tight, his wet pussy clenching around your shaft with a ferocity alike the omega himself, and for a moment you thought your dick was about to snap right off.

“F-fuck it into me real good, alpha,” Sukuna moaned, “I want everything you’ve fucking got.”

You could feel your libido starting up at his words, the engine almost roaring to life as you bucked your hips harder, ramming yourself deeper inside as Sukuna whined and yelped at the huge, sudden stretch—you didn’t let him off easy, he asked for everything, after all—pushing and shoving and forcing your way in until you were positive you had him completely speared on your cock, everything tight and wet and perfect and there was hardly a millimetre of space between the two of you.

“Tight,” you grunted, the thick blend of caramel and smoke clouding the air making your brain drunk and body hot, the sweat trickling down your chest and all the way down to your crotch, adding to the wet mess beneath you. “Gonna fuck your tight pussy so hard, omega. Rail you right through the bed. Might have to end up wheeling you out of the room. Is that what you want? Everything I’ve got, pretty omega?”

“Yeah,” Sukuna sobbed. “Fuck me till I can’t walk, alpha.”

You snarled at the blatant filth he was spewing, pulling out until only the tip stayed inside before dropping your weight forward and penetrating him as deep as you could manage, his ass ringing loudly with every single pound of your hips, music to your ears.

“I love you so fucking much,” you hissed out, pressing your forehead into the mattress next to his head, because it was true, because you could, because you would do anything and everything for him, and if he didn’t get it by then, now he did. “Love you, need you, everything, Sukuna.”

“Love you too, f-fuck- alpha!” Sukuna cried out, trembling in your grasp, tears leaking out and you licked his face clean of salt because you could, because he was yours. “Please, I love you, I’m s-so damn c-close—”

“I love you more,” you rasped, your hips stuttering and thrusts becoming less pronounced, knot thickening at the base and limiting your movements, but it’d be alright, Sukuna was right there, and you were more connected than anything, and he would take everything you’d got, because he was perfect. “My fucking everything. Gonna cum so deep inside your pussy, put a pup in you, pretty omega—”

“Love you the most,” Sukuna mewled, “gonna take all your pups, alpha, and I’m going to f-fucking kill you if you don’t put them in me right now.”

With those words, Sukuna crossed his legs behind your waist, forcing your cock deep inside of him, the muscles in his thighs jumping and toes curling with overstimulation, cumming around the all-too-big knot shoved up in his spread, aching cunt with a scream.

You held him throughout, continuing to jackrabbit into his pussy until you could feel cum starting to trickle into the searing-hot confines, the churn of arousal in your gut making it hard to breathe, and when he tilted his head to bare the length of his neck to you, a clear invitation of what your omega wanted—you let your alpha take over for a second, fangs sinking into soft, supple flesh before you blacked out completely.

When you came to be, you were still lodged deep inside your omega, your knot heavy and thick and likely not going down anytime soon.

You were barely coherent enough to register Sukuna’s fingers carding through your hair with your face resting on his chest, but the pleasure and comfort were imminent, and you let the soothing mixture of your smoke and his caramel wash over you. Ground you to the present.

And for the first time in your life, sex didn’t feel like sating an addiction, nor chasing a high, only to end up rock bottom the morning after. You lapped at the fresh wound on Sukuna’s neck, the twin blood-red marks of your canines staring right back at you, finally a proper claim on your omega, your mate.

Something in you finally settled, the newfound bond tight and imperishable for the days to come, of lazy mornings and quiet afternoons and heated nights, the strange taste of forever.

You just happened to find it in Ryomen Sukuna.

masterlist!

#holy shit #the things I read instead of writing #this was so good tho #jjk #jjk x male reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna x male reader #jujutsu kaisen #.𖥔 ݁ ˖ִ ࣪𖤐 reblogs #dom male reader

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