𝐆𝐨𝐝'𝐬 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐞𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐝𝐠𝐞𝐫 ~ 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐒𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

Sukuna’s morning routine is simple: wake up, drag you out of bed, and ruin you before the day even starts.

Today is no different.

You barely get a moment to breathe before he’s got you caged in the bathroom, the steam curling around his broad frame, water trailing down hard muscles inked in black. He’s grinning, already dripping from his own shower, and you know what’s coming.

You always know.

Your fingers clutch the towel around your body, a feeble shield against the inevitable. His gaze flicks down to it, then back up to your face, amused.

“The fuck is that for?” His voice is thick with sleep, lazy and deep.

You step back. “I-I just need a—”

He snatches the towel in an instant, yanking it off, leaving you bare, exposed—helpless.

A sharp inhale, your arms flying up to cover yourself. His hand catches your wrist before you can, twisting it behind your back. His chest meets yours, skin-on-skin, water slicking between your bodies as he presses you against the cold shower tiles.

“No more excuses, princess.” His breath is hot against your ear. “You know the rules.”

The rules.

There are no fucking rules.

Only his rules.

He forces you under the spray, water drenching you, stealing the air from your lungs. You shudder, heart hammering as he grips your chin, tilting your face up.

“Relax,” he drawls, thumb smearing water down your cheek. “You act like I don’t do this every morning.”

You do know.

And yet, you still flinch when he turns you around, pressing your front to the cold marble wall.

Still, you gasp when he drags his cock against your slit, teasing, spreading your wetness that has nothing to do with the shower.

Still, you whimper when he forces himself inside you—slow, inch by inch, making sure you feel it.

The first thrust is deep, punishing. You arch against the tile, a choked cry escaping as he fills you, stretching you too much, too fast.

He groans, fingers digging into your hips.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, dragging out before slamming back in. “Let me hear you, baby.”

You don’t want to.

You can’t.

But he doesn’t care.

He grips your throat from behind, forcing your head back against his shoulder as he fucks into you, the slap of wet skin obscene against the walls.

You claw at his wrist, struggling, choking on moans you refuse to let out.

He laughs.

“You’re so fucking cute when you try to fight.” His teeth graze your ear. “Like you actually think you have a choice.”

His pace picks up, ruthless, brutal, forcing your body to take him whether you can handle it or not. Your legs tremble.

He doesn’t stop.

Not until you’re gasping.

Not until he breaks you.

Not until he’s satisfied.

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