𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐎𝐔’𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐄𝐀𝐑

Sukuna wakes up first.

He always does.

You’re curled up at the edge of the bed, turned away from him like that’ll save you. The sheets are tangled around your legs, your thighs still painted in last night’s sins—purple bruises, the faint imprint of his teeth, and the dried mess he left inside you.

His lips twitch.

Cute.

He stretches, the muscles in his arms and back flexing as he cracks his neck. The room still smells like sweat and sex, the air thick with it, but the early morning light filtering through the blinds makes it almost feel normal. Domestic, even.

He scoffs. Yeah, right.

His gaze drops to you again, and without thinking, he reaches out, fingers drifting down your bare spine. You shudder in your sleep, curling tighter into yourself, but that only makes him grin.

Good. You should be afraid.

He leans in, breath fanning over your ear. “Rise and shine, princess.”

You jolt awake with a sharp inhale, body stiffening when you realize where you are. Who you’re with.

His chuckle is warm against your skin. “Aww. You miss me?”

“Go to hell.” Your voice is hoarse.

Sukuna laughs, rolling onto his side, propping himself up on his elbow. His other hand snakes around your waist, yanking you back against his chest before you can escape.

“You’re cranky in the mornings,” he muses, his lips trailing along your shoulder. “What, still sore? Thought you’d be used to it by now.”

Your stomach twists, heat rising to your cheeks. You try to shove at his arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“I made breakfast.” His teeth graze your pulse, voice dropping to a taunting murmur. “Figured my wife should eat something before I fuck her full again.”

Your whole body locks up.

“What?”

Sukuna grins. “You heard me.” He shifts, swinging a leg over yours, trapping you beneath him with ease. “You’re mine. Always have been.” His fingers trace the bruises along your wrists, pressing down just enough to make you flinch. “Might as well make it official.”

Your throat is dry. “That’s not how marriage works.”

He snorts. “Yeah? And what, you gonna divorce me?” His smirk is all teeth, all cruel amusement. “Try it. See what happens.”

You tremble beneath him, and something in his chest flutters—something ugly, something possessive.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he purrs, rolling his hips against yours. “You’ll make a good little housewife.” His hand slides lower, fingers slipping between your legs, feeling the evidence of last night still lingering. “You already let me fuck you like one.”

Your breath stutters.

Sukuna just grins, pressing a kiss to your temple—mocking, sickly sweet.

“Now be good and spread your legs for your husband.”

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