Archive of Our Own

Deep within the Realm of Gods lay Fôlkvangr, a heavenly paradise woven with luscious forests, sparkling rivers that cut through flourishing valleys and mountains, and ornate temples and villas fit for the gods. This domain was ruled by Freyja, the goddess of love, war, and seidr—the magic of seers.

Currently, Freyja sat upon her throne, sifting through the visions of other realms that reflected on the surface of her seidr pond. One vision lingered in the mist: a woman with wind-swept golden hair who bore a striking resemblance to her. The deity sighed, a shallow wind that swept across her domain and caused all beings to tremble in fear.

“I have let that child roam free for far too long. Bring her back to me, Satoru, before the next Dísablót festival begins.”

Satoru lowered his head and bowed, the six eyes on his wings closing in reverence. “As you command, My Lady.”

As the only angel possessing Six Eyes—three pairs of omniscient eyes that could glimpse the past, present, and future—Gojo Satoru was the strongest valkyrie within the Realm of Gods. His ability to see and manipulate fate made him near invincible, untouchable in a way only the Aesir Gods were.

As for why he chose to be in service to Freyja—well, that was a tale for another day.

After receiving his mission, Satoru waltzed through the gilded halls of Sessrúmnir and headed for the Hall of Prophecies. There resided the Disir, divine seers from whom he would receive his blessings before leaving for his assignment. Upon entering their territory, the seers greeted Satoru warmly and ushered him toward the main seat of honor.

Satoru thanked the Disir and informed them of his reason for visiting. “I have a mission from the Goddess, and hope to receive your blessings for the journey.”

“Your mission is to retrieve Gersemi from the other realms,” a second voice chimed in.

Turning around, Satoru spotted a female seer covered in a floating black veil held by four songbirds. Satoru’s expression brightened, and he dropped all pretenses, exclaiming, “Utahime! Long time no see!”

Utahime sighed as one of her birds landed atop Satoru’s head and began pecking at him. “Do not address me by my personal name, Six Eyes.” She lifted her hand toward the angel. “Come forth, let me see what your fate entails.”

Therein lay the reason and necessity for Satoru’s visit; although he possessed the Six Eyes ability, he could not foresee his own fate. This shortcoming made Freyja and his fellow valkyries extremely protective of him. He was a glass cannon, or so they claimed, but Satoru thought he was perfectly fine. Even without knowledge of his own future, he could take down any foe with ease.

The senior oracle lay her palm against Satoru’s forehead, eyebrows creased as she glimpsed into his destiny. Her expression twitched, once, twice, before pulling into a disgruntled frown. Satoru had never seen that face before. Curious, he asked, “What is it?”

Utahime looked at him with exasperation, puzzlement, and was that envy he saw in her eyes? She sighed again before shaking her head. “It is nothing you need to concern yourself with. In any case, your journey will be safe and without any…major complications. You may travel with our blessing.”

Satoru clicked his tongue at the vague answer. “Can’t you be more specific?”

Utahime raised an eyebrow. “Are you certain you want me to? Divulging the details of one’s fate will invariably cause it to change.”

Just what was this songstress trying to say? Squinting his eyes, Satoru scoffed and grabbed the blessing pendant on the offering table. “Fine, don’t tell if you don’t want to. I’m leaving now, don’t miss me too much.”

Utahime pursed her lips and observed him stroll away without a care in the world. Before he exited the chamber, she left one last word of advice. “If you have not decided on which realm to visit first, might I suggest Midgard? The lower realms have changed much since your last visit. Be patient, be unprejudiced, and perhaps you will discover yourself a treasure.”

Midgard was, for lack of better words, overpopulated and overstimulating. Utahime was right; the lower realms had changed much since he last visited. Perhaps a bit too much.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going, dumbass! Fucking pedestrians these days…”

Satoru glanced back warily as a black metal box zoomed past him, nearly knocking him to the ground. How rude, couldn’t they see he was standing there? He took a step forward, only for another metal contraption to blast his eardrums with a shrill honk. The noise startled him, causing him to stumble backwards.

“Oi! Don’t stand in the middle of the fucking street!”

A few more honks followed as more metal vehicles weaved back and forth around him. Just as he was about to use his powers to clear a space around him, an elderly woman walked toward him.

“Dearie,” she began, holding out her hand to Satoru. “It’s not our turn to cross yet. You need to follow the rules of the road.”

Confused, Satoru let himself be led to the side of the road. He listened as the woman explained the road signs and laws, and what those fast-moving metal boxes were. The more he listened, the more he realized how unprepared he was for this world. Damn Utahime and the others, why didn’t they give me this knowledge ahead of time?

Just what was so sensitive about this mission and his fate that prevented them from disclosing even the bare minimum information? Grumbling, Satoru decided to look into this kind elder’s life, using her memories as a way to learn about this world.

When the crosswalk light turned on, Satoru quietly changed her fate so she would no longer have cancer in the future and waved at her with a bright smile. “Thanks, Ogami! See you around!”

Ogami looked dumbfounded as the young man she had just met walked away, confused as to why he knew her name. “Have we met before, young man?”

From the memories of Ogami and a few others he glimpsed into, Satoru quickly understood the basic principles of this world. First and foremost, he needed to earn money. Without money, he couldn’t go anywhere or do anything in this society.

Thus, he found himself standing in front of a small coffee shop, where a ‘We’re Hiring!’ poster was plastered outside its glass windows. He took a deep breath, giving himself a pep talk before heading in. Alright, Satoru. You got this. Just think of it as a mini mission.

“Welcome– Oh wow, welcome.”

Satoru glanced at the bob-cut girl who just answered and gave her a small wave. “Hi, I’m here to apply for the job you guys posted?”

Bob-hair raised an eyebrow and looked Satoru up and down. “You sure? The modeling agency’s one street over.”

Modeling was too restrictive and wouldn’t give him enough free time. Plus, he didn’t want his face broadcasted everywhere, lest Gersemi or an enemy recognize him and flee. Satoru grabbed the shop employee’s hand and emphasized, “No, I want to work here.”

“Huh…alright. Let me get my boss.”

The interview went smoothly. Aside from the shopkeeper, Yaga, being slightly suspicious of his identity, he was hired without a problem. He received a tour of the shop and, after miserably failing latte art by somehow drawing a dick instead of a heart, was assigned to be a cashier.

“Your shift starts tomorrow morning,” Yaga said before ushering him out the door.

Satoru left the shop in bright spirits, teeming with hope and anticipation for a successful, smooth-sailing mission. He’d earn some money to make a living here, search through the memories of each customer he met for any signs of Freyja’s daughter, then grab her and head back home.

— ∞ —

The next morning, Satoru pranced into the cafe in a great mood and cheerfully greeted his colleague. “Morning!”

His dark-circled, fatigued colleague responded back, “Ah, you must be the newbie.”

“Yep! I’m Satoru.”

“Shoko,” the woman replied tiredly, looking one foot from the grave. After introducing herself, she continued with her tasks and ignored Satoru.

Satoru blinked. Hm, okay. So his coworker wasn’t very enthusiastic, but that was fine. He wouldn’t let it put a damper on his mood. Making his way to the back, he grabbed an apron and began to prepare for the shop to open. He had a feeling today would be a great day.

While Shoko didn’t dampen the mood, the customers sure did. Most were friendly, and some a little too friendly; a few people had slipped their numbers to him or gotten a bit too chatty. But a few were downright rude, making a scene out of nothing. Case in point, the middle-aged man with a crappy wig who was practically spitting into Satoru’s face.

“What do you mean there’s a surcharge for credit cards?? You trying to scam me, eh? Well, I’m not falling for it!”

Satoru grit his teeth, resisting the urge to pummel the guy to smithereens. He was an angel, for fuck’s sake. And not just any angel, but the strongest, most respected valkyrie in the Nine Realms. If it weren’t for the mission, this man would have already been burned to a crisp for daring to talk back to him.

Putting on a fake smile, he forced out, “Sir, it says on the sign here that we have a 2% extra charge for credit card purchases.”

“Two percent!? I’ve been to plenty of coffee shops, and this is the first one that’s charged such a ridiculous amount!”

And what did the guy expect Satoru to do about it? He was just a regular employee who only started working here today. Just as he was considering whether to mess with the man’s fate so he had a sudden bout of the runs, a suffocating aura filled the air, raising his hackles.

Ring.

The door opened, bringing with it a walking calamity. Dark, blood-red mist crawled across the ground, bleeding through the cracks in the wood. Satoru froze, his fight-or-flight instincts in haywire. What was a dragon doing in Midgard?

No, upon second glance, this wasn’t a true dragon, but a half-blood. And it had a familiar scent to it, something that only belonged to the Vanir gods. A descendant of a dragon and a god? Just what kind of mythical creature—and love scandal—had Satoru crossed paths with?

Although most mortals couldn’t see what Satoru could, everyone in the shop seemed to sense the danger emanating from the new arrival and quieted down. Even the problematic customer seemed to cower as he quickly paid for his coffee and scurried to the side.

Satoru gulped and eyed the creature as he prowled forward, praying that Utahime’s pendant was strong enough to hide his identity from a demi-dragon. He didn’t dare pry into the being’s fate, for fear of retribution.

“Welcome. What can I get you?”

The demi-dragon glanced down at Satoru—down, because the creature was a head taller than him, and spoke in a voice that rumbled through his soul.

“You.”

A shiver went down Satoru’s spine, and he clenched the counter to stabilize himself. Should he just call it quits and teleport back to Fôlkvangr? If he did so now, he’d have a good chance of escaping this half-deity’s clutches.

He examined the other and found no hostile intent, only intense curiosity, interest, and—no, he must have misread the last emotion. Since the creature had no desire to attack him, Satoru took a deep breath and powered through. “We have light, medium, and dark roast, as well as decaf.” He slid a laminated menu over and pointed at the coffee options. “You can choose from these options.”

Instead of looking over the menu, the man continued to stare at him. “What would you recommend?”

Honestly? Satoru had never tried coffee until yesterday, and the only thing he liked was a decaf latte with lots of syrup and milk.

“The lattes are pretty good. The pumpkin oat latte is a popular one.”

That finally got the man to look down, and he scrunched up his nose in distaste. “No, I don’t want that.”

Satoru resisted the urge to say something snappy and asked in a fake, sugary voice, “What would you like then?”

As soon as he finished speaking, the unnerving gaze was back on him. The demi-dragon fixated on Satoru’s face and uttered in a daze, “Toasted vanilla and sweetened milk. With a hint of something fruity. Maybe peach.”

That was oddly specific, and something their cafe definitely did not have. Satoru frowned. Was the dragon purposely giving him a hard time?

“Sorry, we don’t have the flavor you want,” Satoru deadpanned, not sorry in the slightest. “But we do have a vanilla latte. You could try that.” The faster he got the man’s order, the sooner this creature could leave.

The dragon leaned over the counter, his forearm flexing and nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air around Satoru like a dog. “You sure about that? I can practically taste it in the air. Got me salivating the second I walked in here.”

Satoru raised his eyebrow. He had heard from his fellow angels of how dragons had a unique physiology. They had secondary genders and the ability to identify people by some invisible scent known only to them.

Perhaps the customers in the store smelled like this flavor profile to the dragon. Nevertheless, he reiterated, “I’m positive we don’t have what you’re looking for. Perhaps you could find it at another cafe.”

Perhaps you could leave this shop and me alone, was the hidden meaning behind Satoru’s words. Nevermind that this dragon was his type and looked absolutely ravishing; dragons, especially their descendants, were risky business.

The said dragon looked offended at the notion of leaving and slapped his hand against the menu, inches away from Satoru’s own hand. “I’ll have the vanilla latte, then. In large.”

Nodding, Satoru selected the drink on the terminal and grabbed a large cup. “Name?”

“Sukuna,” the dragon replied, tapping his phone against the card reader. When Satoru didn’t respond, he narrowed his eyes and pressed, “And yours?”

Satoru worried his lips, before slowly replying, “Satoru.”

“Satoru,” Sukuna purred, rolling the valkyrie’s name against his lips. “Pretty name for an even prettier angel.”

“...Thanks.” Well, there went his plans of staying hidden. Satoru grimaced at his identity being outed and pointed to the corner of the shop. “You can pick up your order there. Next in line, please.”

Sukuna seemed disappointed that Satoru had waved him off without a care, but did as he was told and stepped to the side. Satoru eyed the man warily as he took the next customer’s order.

Contrary to what he had hoped, Sukuna did not leave the store after getting his coffee. Instead, he leaned against the wall counter, sipping his latte while his eyes followed Satoru’s every movement like a predator studying his prey. It left goosebumps across Satoru’s skin, and he had to stop himself from shoving Sukuna out the door, or worse, shoving Sukuna on top of him until their tongues were down each other’s throats.

It went on for so long that even Shoko couldn’t help but comment, “That hotshot’s been checking you out for a while. Want me to shoo him off?”

Satoru laughed awkwardly and shook his head. “It’s fine, thanks though. I don’t mind.” That was a fucking lie; he minded very much. But it also felt nice, the same way a piping hot shower felt nice.

Shoko glanced dubiously at Sukuna, then back at Satoru. “Hm. If you’re sure. Say, are you really an angel?”

Satoru shrugged, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “What do you think?”

When the sun set and the cafe neared its closing time, Sukuna was still in the shop. He didn’t bother the customers or staff, but instead leaned against the wall, silently watching Satoru work. Satoru had to admit that his presence reduced the number of troublesome customers to zero, making the rest of his first day at work much easier. All Sukuna had to do was clear his throat and shift his shoulders for the impolite guests to behave.

Even by closing time, Sukuna still refused to budge. He remained inside even as all the other customers left, slipping a wad of bills to each staff member as they left their shift. This made it even harder for Satoru to ask him to leave. Satoru was poor, alright? He’d take whatever he could get, even if it were handouts from a very suspicious, potentially life-threatening dragon.

“See you tomorrow, Suguru!” Satoru waved to his coworker, a dark elf who had recently moved to the city. Suguru waved back with a subdued smile before turning back to clean the coffee machine.

As soon as Satoru took off his apron and left the supply room, Sukuna straightened up and walked toward the counter. He placed a bill in the tip jar for the elven staff and followed after the valkyrie. Satoru listened to the footsteps behind him and made it to the end of the street before teleporting into the sky, where no one could see them. “Alright, what do you want?”

Sukuna raised an eyebrow. “Nothing. Just walking you home.”

Right. Very believable. With a roll of his eyes, Satoru snorted, “Stop with the charade. We both know each other’s true identities, so what do you really want from me, demi-dragon?”

The words elicited a sharp cackle from Sukuna. “No, you don’t know who I truly am yet. But no matter, for I will tell you now.” He took a step closer, his expression turning serious as his eyes glowed like lava.

“I am Ryomen Sukuna, son of Gersemi—daughter of Freyja—and Ryomen, the guardian dragon of fire.”

Was this the “fate” Utahime foresaw? If so, Satoru really wanted to smack her in the head. No major complications, my ass. He felt his world crumbling, unsure of whether to run toward or away from the figure before him.

Either way, he was sure that Freyja would be very unhappy about this result.

Sukuna smiled, seemingly pleased by Satoru’s reaction. He reached a hand toward the angel’s chest and plucked the blessed pendant from his neck. It broke too easily under the might of a dragon and a god.

“I was sent by my mother to persuade you to call off this mission and return to my grandmother. But after seeing you, I am much more inclined to keep you here.”

With the pendant broken, six resplendent wings materialized behind Satoru. Each wing held a bejeweled eye, all of which were focused on the demigod. Sukuna’s hand moved closer until it stroked the tips of the valkyrie's wings. His face pressed against Satoru’s, a breathless whisper escaping his lips.

“What do you say, Six Eyes? Won’t you come home with me?”

— ∞ —

Satoru agreed. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice to begin with, what with the dragon destroying his pendant and dropping this bombshell of a revelation on him.

Gersemi has a son…a son with a dragon…and not just any dragon, but a Guardian. Lady Freyja will not be happy to hear this.

Feeling very depressed about the future, Satoru glumly followed after Sukuna, his wings drooping behind him. There was no way he could win a fight against a goddess of war, a guardian dragon, and their son. At least, not without losing over half of his cherished wings.

At least Sukuna’s home looked decent. And Sukuna, for his part, acted surprisingly respectful after forcibly inviting Satoru into his home. He held the entrance open for Satoru and dipped his head as a butler would. “Welcome to my humble abode, Satoru.”

Satoru ruffled his feathers and took a step inside with equal parts caution and curiosity. It was his first time inside a dragon’s lair, after all.

Instead of an inhospitable, dreary cave, the demi-dragon’s home was a mansion equipped with the finest furniture and Midgard technology. It looked comfortable and lived in, if you ignored the overabundance of shiny gold objects, jewels, and random expensive paintings lining the wall. No matter the time or place, a dragon’s desire for hoarding treasures always prevailed.

Sukuna strolled over to the kitchen and put out two gold goblets and an ornate bottle of red wine. “Care for a drink, angel?”

Satoru scrunched up his face and shook his head. “I’m good.” He hated alcohol and its spicy, bitter taste that burned his throat. Vanaheim nectar was his preferred drink of choice. With his nose turned up, he made his preferences clear. “I only drink nectar from the fields of Vanaheim.”

There was no way Sukuna had access to this elusive beverage. It was called the Nectar of the Gods for a reason, after all.

“Hm. Is that so?” Sukuna hummed and twirled his hand with a flourish. A golden amphora materialized in his palm, emanating a faintly sweet aroma. He poured some into a goblet and held it out to Satoru. “Have some.”

Satoru sneered inwardly. Vanaheim nectar wasn’t something that could be imitated; a sweet juice wouldn’t be able to come close to its heavenly taste. He took a sip, expecting a generic syrupy drink, when the flavor hit his taste buds.

Impossible. He couldn’t hold back his gasp as he examined the drink, his tongue savoring the taste. This was genuine Vanaheim nectar. But how? Dragons were banned from Vanaheim, and Gersemi had not been back to the Realm of Gods for eons. Where did Sukuna procure the nectar from?

He glanced back at Sukuna, who had a shit-eating grin on his face. “Is it just as good as the one up there?”

“How…how did you get this?” Satoru demanded. He couldn’t help but take another sip, and another, until he reached the bottom of the goblet.

Sukuna’s expression softened, and he reached for Satoru’s cup, pouring more of the nectar into it. “A trade secret. Can’t have you snitching to my mother’s family, now can we?”

“Although…” Sukuna trailed off deliberately, eyeing Satoru with keen interest. “If you become my mate, I will divulge all my secrets to you.”

Ah. So this was what it was. Finally, the dragon had peeled back his armor and revealed his true purpose. Satoru recalled Sukuna’s actions in the cafe and everything he had learned about dragons, and calmly took a sip of his drink.

“You want me as your mate, based on what? My scent?”

Sukuna took a step closer to his side, until less than a centimeter separated their shoulders. “A pheromone is much more than a scent. To dragons, it is a spiritual sense, just like your Six Eyes is to you, or a seer’s futuresight is to them. Pheromones give us a glimpse into another’s soul, their traits, and most importantly, their fate with us.”

There it was again, the all-encompassing Fate. Satoru was starting to piece together the puzzle and what his own fate entailed. “So you saw me in your future, is that it?”

Sukuna chuckled, one hand creeping behind Satoru’s back. “No, we cannot see the future like those who wield seidr magic can. Instead, we see potential; a potential brethren, a potential enemy, a potential mate.”

“When I caught your pheromones,” Sukuna murmured, his hand massaging the middle wings of the angel, “I knew I had to have you. Never has someone smelled so divine, so magnificent, so perfectly compatible with me.”

Satoru closed his eyes, letting the dragon murmur sweet nothings against his ear and caress the most sensitive part of his body. It felt too good, too addicting, to be in the presence of this majestic creature.

Sukuna growled against Satoru’s skin, the sharp heat sending goosebumps and heat down his abdomen. “I will savor you and ravish you for eternity. I will worship you and defile you in every way you’ll permit me. I will pillage the Nine Realms and hand it to you on a golden platter, pluck the fields of Vanaheim and make it our garden, so that you will want for nothing.”

“That is how much I am willing to do for you, for the potential future we hold as mates.”

Turning his head to the side, Satoru let out a shaky breath and pushed Sukuna’s hand away. “You don’t even know me.”

Sukuna hummed. “I grew up hearing tales of your feats, of your unrivalled beauty and strength in battle. I have admired you from the very moment I learned of your existence. The strongest valkyrie within the Nine Realms, possessing six wings, one for each seidr eye. Undefeated in the war between Asgard and Vanir—the only angel who can manipulate the past, present, and future.”

He turned until his body faced Satoru and kneeled down. “See for yourself. See my sincerity and love. See our future.”

With trembling hands, Satoru took hold of Sukuna’s face. His lower and middle pairs of seidr eyes opened, burning bright blue and white as they seared into Sukuna’s soul, seeing into his past and present.

Satoru saw glimpses of the dragon’s youth, his loneliness and yearning for an equal. He saw a newborn Sukuna in the Guardian realm, a volcanic land that teetered on the edge of chaos. He saw Gersemi cradling her son as she told him stories from the Realm of Gods. He saw a youthful Sukuna isolated by other dragons for being a half-blood, with golden draconic blood dripping down his body as he fought against his own kind.

Finally, he saw himself through Sukuna’s eyes, with an ethereal light around him as he asked for Sukuna’s order. He stopped there, not daring to look further. The tricky thing about Six Eyes was that it had the tendency to manipulate any fate it saw of the future, something that Satoru took advantage of in battle.

However, if what Sukuna said was true, and there was a chance they would wind up together in the future, Satoru didn’t want to jeopardize it by glimpsing into Sukuna’s, into their, future. Satoru took a deep breath and closed his seidr eyes. “I believe you. But I need time to…to process all of this. And to get to know you better.”

Lowering his head, Sukuna pressed a kiss against the back of Satoru’s hand. “Of course. Move in with me. It will be much easier for us to get acquainted, and I’ll be within arm's reach if you ever need me."

Satoru knew this was obviously a trap, a way to lure him in and keep him here. But he wanted to learn more about this enigmatic creature who knelt in front of him with unveiled hope and fear. He wanted to know what it would be like to love a half-god, half-dragon, and to be loved by one in return.

“Fine. For the time being, I will stay with you.”

“Satoru.”

Satoru breathed in, nuzzling deeper into the warmth beneath him. It felt like flying amidst the clouds, swaddled in the gentle warmth of the sun.

“Satoru.”

The voice purring his name in a soft rumble sounded nice too. Satoru smiled, leaning closer into the sound and letting himself drift back into deep sleep—

“Satoru, your shift starts in an hour.”

This time, the heat was no longer gentle, but a blazing flame that threatened to burn him to ashes. Satoru felt his wings begin to tingle, as if he had flown too close to the sun. Frowning, he ruffled his wings and flew down, away from the scorching sun—

“Careful. You’ll fall off the bed.”

Satoru blinked open his eyes, his brain lagging a few seconds as he took in his surroundings. Four ruby eyes gazed down at him in amusement and fondness, roaming over his sleep-mussed figure. A sharp nip to his fingers brought his attention to the belly mouth beneath him, and he moved his hand away from the pesky dragon mouth.

Bewildered, Satoru stared at Sukuna’s half-naked body. Did he fall asleep in Sukuna’s bedroom last night? Last evening, they had watched a movie in Sukuna’s room, which evolved into watching the subsequent movies in the series. He must have dozed off midway through, but that didn’t explain why they were both half naked…

“Your wings were struggling in your shirt, so I took it off for you,” Sukuna explained, as if reading his mind. Then he moved, sculpted muscles shifting like the mountain plains and valleys in Vanaheim.

Satoru wanted to commission a marble sculpture in the dragon’s image and place it in the halls of Sessrúmnir for all to admire. Instead, he averted his gaze from the bronze, sun-kissed body beneath him and muttered, “Oh. Thanks.”

Before he could say anything damning, Satoru quickly rose from bed and made a beeline for his own room, ignoring the fiery gaze that followed him through the door. After entering his bathroom, he stood in front of the mirror and took in his appearance. His flushed face and dilated eyes stared back at him in condemnation.

Six months had passed since he and Sukuna became housemates. Things were going well…a little too well. It was alarming how easy it was to fall into a routine with Sukuna, to let his guard down and play house with the dragon. Their interactions came so naturally that it felt like they had known each other for a millennium, and not for only six months.

To make matters worse, tomorrow was his first check-in meeting with Freyja. Satoru had nothing to show for his time here except the unfortunate news that Freyja’s daughter had eloped with a Guardian dragon and given birth to a son in secret.

A son that he currently lived with and who wanted to mate him.

Maybe I can feign sickness and extend the deadline. No…that would just make Lady Freyja worry and send the other valkyries. Satoru grabbed his hair and let out a frustrated sigh. The last thing he wanted was for Freyja and her army to raze Midgard and the Guardian realm in search of Gersemi.

A knock on the door interrupted his mid-mission crisis. “I’m making breakfast. Any requests?”

Satoru’s mood instantly lifted at the thought of Sukuna’s home-cooked meals and responded, “Anything’s fine!” He loved everything the dragon made for him.

He’d leave the worries to future Satoru to worry about. For now, washing up and getting ready for his shift was his first priority. Although working at the coffee shop was no longer necessary for his mission, he found the routine comforting and looked forward to seeing his coworkers every day.

After breakfast, Satoru grabbed his bottle of nectar and the lunchbox Sukuna packed for him, making his way to the door. Just as he opened the door, a hand lightly fell on his shoulder.

“You forgot this.”

Satoru turned around and grimaced at the offending object in Sukuna’s palm. Grumbling, he grabbed the celestial ring and slipped it on his index finger. As compensation for destroying his blessed pendant, Sukuna had gifted this concealment ring to him. Satoru knew what it implied and wanted to refuse, but he had no choice but to use it to hide his identity.

With a cursory goodbye, he stepped down the stairs of their estate, leaving his housemate behind. Despite his efforts to ignore the man, a soothing voice trailed after him, carried through the distance by the wind.

“Have a good time at work, Satoru. I will come pick you up after your shift ends.”

Satoru made it to the cafe seven minutes after his shift started. Ignoring the glare from Nanami, he rushed to the supply room and grabbed his apron. Then he tapped Shoko on the shoulder, who was currently manning the cashier for him. “Sorry I’m late! Thanks for covering for me.”

Shoko chuckled and moved aside. “No problem. That’s what friends are for.”

They shared a smile as Satoru whispered conspiratorily, “If you need to swap shifts again, just let me know.”

Shoko hummed and answered, “I might take you up on that when my forensics finals come around.” Pulling off her apron, she made her way to the office to clock out. “See you tomorrow, Satoru.”

“See ya, Shoko!”

The hours passed by quickly as Satoru continued to greet each guest with a cheery smile. His colleagues thought he was crazy to enjoy speaking to customers, but Satoru loved peering into their memories and learning about the world through their eyes. To preserve his sanity and their dignity, he took care to only glimpse into non-sensitive and public memories. Be that as it may, his “voyeurism” would likely come off as creepy to the Midgardians, so he kept it to himself.

He smiled at the next customer and prepared to take their order when a familiar being caught his eye. A woman wearing a cream-colored dress and furry coat glanced around the room, her voluminous golden hair catching the sunlight as it swished around with her movements. When their gazes met, the woman’s expression brightened, eyes sparkling as she hurried over to the counter and clasped Satoru’s hands.

“Oh my dear, you really are here!” she gushed, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. “How lovely it is to see you again.”

Satoru stood frozen, mouth open in shock. Gersemi. Did Sukuna tell her I was here?

The other customers were beginning to stare and whisper among themselves. Noticing the commotion, Satoru quickly went on his break and brought Gersemi to the side. Staring at his mission target, Satoru began to ponder what to do. He was at a crossroads. Should he kidnap her now and bring her back to Fôlkvangr?

Clearing his throat, Satoru asked, “What brings you here, Gersemi?”

The goddess beamed at her favorite valkyrie and grabbed his hand. “Why, to see you, of course! I forced—no, asked my son for your whereabouts. To think that Sukuna was hiding you away from us. Just what was he thinking?”

Satoru listened to her berate Sukuna and silently prayed that his housemate was still in one piece. Having trained and fought alongside a younger Gersemi, he knew how much strength the goddess possessed.

“But enough about my unfilial son. How are you adjusting to Midgard? Is there anything you need?” She glanced around the coffee shop and huffed, “If money is an issue, I can transfer as much as you need. You can come stay with us or find your own place, instead of staying with that doltish child.”

Before Gersemi could launch into another spiel, Satoru hurriedly cut her off. “I’m doing fine, really! Sukuna has been…very good to me.” He thought back to this morning when he woke up next to Sukuna and blushed, averting his gaze from the goddess.

Upon hearing this, Gersemi frowned and crossed her hands over her chest as she muttered, “Good, you say…”

Suddenly, she blinked, and her expression morphed into one of panic. Grabbing Satoru’s hand for the umpteenth time, she pressed, “That rascal hasn’t done anything discourteous toward you, has he? If he tries to court you, or god forbid, harps about true mates, do not hesitate to cast him into Nilfheim!”

Now it was Satoru’s turn to panic. Did Gersemi know about their plan—no, Sukuna’s plan to marry each other? Flustered, he shook the goddess’s hand off and feigned ignorance. “W-what mates? We are merely housemates.”

“That’s good, that’s good…” Gersemi sighed in relief. She smiled wryly at Satoru, wringing her hands together in nervousness. “It’s my fault for telling him stories of your feats and my treasured memories of you in the Upper Realms. Because of this, he idolizes you. Perhaps a bit too much—”

A sudden, violent bang erupted in the cafe as the entrance door flew open, the sheer force causing the surrounding walls to shake. The air turned suffocating, the illusion of rotten death and fire emanating from the creature who just entered. Sukuna’s eyes first met Satoru’s, before they darkened when they shifted to Gersemi. Clenching his jaw, he prowled towards them and squeezed his body between the two immortals. Then he turned to Satoru and grasped his hand, specks of guilt and fear in his eyes as he declared, “I’m here to pick you up.”

Satoru watched in awe as his housemate transformed from a furious asura into a gentle giant. He tilted his head back to catch Gersemi, who looked a second away from beating her son to Nilfheim herself. Before such a travesty could happen, he pulled Sukuna a distance away from her and slowly answered, “Thank you, Sukuna. You’re a bit early, though.”

“I was worried something would happen.” Sukuna side-eyed his mother. “It looks like my fears weren’t unfounded.”

A manicured hand yanked Sukuna’s ear back as Gersemi snapped, “You should be with your father right now. Head back, I haven’t finished speaking with Satoru.”

Sukuna scowled at his mother and swatted her hand away. “Father and I already talked and reached an agreement. You should head back to him first, Mother.”

A staring contest between the mother and son ensued, with neither willing to yield. Seeing that they were beginning to attract too much attention, Satoru sandwiched himself between the two and held his hands up to placate them. “Gersemi, why don’t you head back? I have to report your appearance to Lady Freyja by tomorrow. Perhaps it would be better if you spoke to her before my report.”

At the mention of Satoru’s mission, Gersemi finally broke the stare off. She sighed and relented, “I suppose you are right. I’ll speak to her myself. We shouldn’t burden you with our family matters.”

After saying her farewells, she wrapped Satoru in a tight embrace and gave her son a warning glare. “Behave.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes but promised nonetheless, “I will not do anything against Satoru’s wishes.”

— ∞ —

That night, Satoru stood in the kitchen working on his latte art. He had made some progress over the past few months, but he still wasn’t as good as Nanami or Suguru.

His hand moved slowly, eyebrows pinched together as he tried to make the perfect heart. Half a minute later, he set down the coffee cup and slid it toward Sukuna. “What do you think?”

Sukuna grabbed the handle, his thumb lightly circling the rim of the mug. “It’s lovely.”

With a pout, Satoru complained, “You say that every time!” He leaned over the counter to scrutinize his own artwork and sighed. “Looks more like a peach than a heart. Another failure, then.”

“I love peaches,” Sukuna comforted, his eyes flitting to Satoru’s collarbone. “It is my favorite fruit.”

They rarely talked about it, but Satoru knew he exuded a certain scent to Sukuna. The dragon had described it on their very first meeting; something akin to vanilla and peaches, if he remembered correctly.

“If only I could smell myself the way you do,” Satoru mused. “Peaches and vanilla, right? I bet I would taste good as a drink.” Maybe not as good as Vanaheim nectar, but Satoru did enjoy a sweet vanilla and peach drink.

Sukuna stilled, his eyes darkening as he roamed over Satoru’s body. “You can,” he said, low and hypnotizing. “I can make it happen.”

Satoru knew this was another trap. But like a cat, curiosity got the better of him, and he licked his lips, matching Sukuna’s intense stare. “How?”

The demigod shifted forward, right hand creeping forward until it held Satoru’s. “If we are bonded, I can share my senses with you. You’ll be able to enhance your smell and taste, whenever you wish to.”

Lowering his head, he kissed Satoru’s hand and inhaled deeply, a shuddering breath that tickled the angel’s hand. “So let me mate you,” he murmured, voice dripping like nectar and eyes glowing with red, hot desire. “Let me love you the way you deserve. Allow me to lavish you, to drink in your nectar, and I will show you how exquisite you taste.”

Satoru squeezed his legs together, refusing to entertain the possibility and the arousal that threatened to drip down his thighs. But it was too late, for Sukuna’s nostrils flared as his pupils dilated and snapped to Satoru’s groin. Ah, fuck. Did he smell that, too?

The next few seconds were a chaotic blur. The moment Sukuna moved, Satoru reacted immediately, his battle sense activating. White wings beat frantically in the air, knocking glass jars astray as he flew up and escaped from Sukuna’s grasp. Sukuna mounted the kitchen island in pursuit, a dragon chasing his target.

When Sukuna’s eyes glowed like blood, his canines elongating into sharp fangs, Satoru knew he had to act fast if he wanted to stop this from escalating. “I’m sorry,” Satoru whispered softly, before he spread his wings and his Six Eyes flared open, eyes glowing an unnatural blue.

Time within the estate seemed to stop as all objects froze. Satoru let out a breath and dropped back down onto the floor, bare feet padding softly toward his frozen housemate. His hand reached out to brush Sukuna’s hair away from his eyes.

Satoru almost jumped back in shock when Sukuna’s lower set of dragon eyes opened, twirling around once before locking onto his face. As expected of a dragon-god hybrid, not even Six Eyes can fully stop him.

He didn’t know how long he could keep this suspended domain up before the dragon broke through, so he quickly said his piece. “Gersemi informed me that most of your infatuation with me stems from the stories she told you as a child. I reckon most of them exaggerated my feats, making me appear greater than I truly am.”

The truth was, Satoru was no longer in his prime. Those days of fearlessly charging into battle, slaying dozens of gods and monsters in one blow, were far behind him. Even though he still possessed monstrous strength and skill, he had already passed the baton to his students, the next generation of valkyries.

Satoru took a deep breath and looked the dragon in the eyes. “Sukuna, you’re still young; there’s so much of this world you have yet to explore. I’m sure there are plenty of younger, better candidates who are more fitting to be your mate.”

He let out a wry smile, running his fingers through Sukuna’s hair, where tiny horns had just begun to erupt. This was good. This was the right thing to do. Although it felt like a stab to his eyes and heart when he said it, he believed that this was for the best.

Better to break his heart now, than have my own heart broken when he inevitably flocks toward greener pastures.

Sukuna might be furious with him now, but years down the line, he would realize that Satoru had made the correct decision for both of them. Satoru sighed, his mouth turning into a pout as he imagined Sukuna with another lover. What am I sad for, it’s not like we were ever together—

Crack.

All of a sudden, a jagged line formed above Sukuna, cutting through the room. Satoru barely had time to react before his domain was split in half, breaking like shards of glass. This had never happened before—not even the gods could dismantle his ability in such a short period of time.

A hand shot out and grabbed Satoru’s lower face, pushing on the corners of his mouth. Satoru gasped as he was shoved against the kitchen cabinets, hands and wings scrambling for purchase.

“Your mouth pisses me off sometimes,” the dragon hissed, fire practically spewing from his maw. “How can such beautiful lips spout such nonsensical garbage?”

Offended, Satoru grabbed Sukuna’s arm and tried to pull it off his face. When Sukuna didn’t budge, Satoru glared up at him and struggled to speak around his hand. “You’re just a child, you don’t know what you want—mmph!” The remainder of his sentence was muffled by Sukuna’s hand clamping tightly over his mouth. He smacked Sukuna in retaliation, only for two more tattooed hands to shove his own against the cabinets. This wasn’t fair; it was two hands against four.

“I am not a child, Satoru. I have reached my maturity centuries ago. And do not speak of my wants as if you know what is best for me. Only I get to decide that, and I have decided on you.”

“If you detest me, hate me…fine. I will not bring up this issue again. But if you said all this because you think it’s for my good, then you can shove your misguided moral circus up your ass. I’ll drill it into your stupidly pretty head as many times as I need to.”

Sukuna lowered his eyes, and Satoru realized for the first time that he had two layers of lashes: pink on the bottom and golden on the top. Golden, just like his mother. Those lashes fluttered as Sukuna pleaded, “Do not diminish my feelings for you, Satoru, for they are sincere.”

The angel twitched beneath the dragon’s grasp, and this time, Sukuna let go. Satoru lifted his sore wrist toward the side of Sukuna’s face, thumbing over his feathery lashes. “Alright,” he vowed softly. “I will not.”

Sukuna closed his eyes, letting the valkyrie play with his lashes. A low hum resonated from his throat, not unlike an engine’s purr. They remained in this tranquil impasse until the dragon shifted, his lower set of eyes focusing on Satoru. “How long do you need before you’ll acknowledge my sincerity?”

“What?” Satoru questioned, resting his hand against the other’s cheekbone.

The young dragon pressed into his space, crowding his senses. “How long will it take for you to see that I want you, and only you, for all of eternity? How long will it take for you to accept me?”

“Uh…” Satoru’s mind went blank as it scrambled for a number. “A millennium?”

Sukuna wilted, the beginning of a whine leaking from his lips. “No, that’s too long.”

Eternity, my ass. Annoyed, Satoru puffed out his wings and pushed his hand against the dragon’s chest. “Oh, you’re not willing to wait that long? I didn’t know your love had an expiration date.”

“It’s not— It’s not like that,” Sukuna groaned, dropping his head until their foreheads touched. “But are you really going to force me to be celibate for a thousand years? I have needs, too.”

That…was a good point. Satoru blinked up at Sukuna, realizing that he had forgotten about his unique anatomy. Dragons were carnal creatures, and indulging in pleasure was rooted in their genes. They had breeding cycles that would last weeks or even months at a time. Which made Satoru curious about Sukuna’s breeding cycle.

Satoru was never one to shy away from sensitive topics, partially due to his unlimited curiosity and unrivaled strength, so he blurted out the question without much thought. “Are you a virgin?”

Sukuna’s eyes instantly darkened, his ears turning red from anger and embarrassment. “So what if I am? I’ve been saving myself for you.”

And oh, was that a revelation. Satoru had a sudden, fierce urge to wrap the young adult in his wings and smother him with affection. Instead, he let out a gentle exhale, eyes softening as he memorized the face in front of him. “Oh.”

“Oh? What do you mean, Oh?”

Satoru giggled and shook his head. “Nothing. Just think you’re quite adorable, Kuna.” He observed as the dragon instantly perked up at the new nickname, ears twitching in interest, and snickered. Yup, definitely adorable.

“When’s your next breeding cycle?” Satoru thought of another issue and added, “And what’s your secondary gender?”

“Two years from now, on the spring equinox. And I’m definitely an alpha,” Sukuna stressed, placing unusual importance on the last part.

Satoru raised an eyebrow at his elevated voice. It seemed like genders were very important to dragons.

Realizing that he had been a bit too passionate, Sukuna amended, “But I am open to change, if you prefer—”

Satoru cut him off with a finger on his lips. “No, you’re fine. I don’t want you to change yourself for me.”

Nodding, Sukuna put on a solemn expression, but Satoru could see how pleased he was with his words. Adorable little alpha.

Tracing a hand down Sukuna’s side, Satoru leaned into his ear and made a proposition. “How about this? You have until your next breeding cycle to convince me. If you succeed, you can have all of me, body and soul. However you want.”

The last sentence elicited a shiver from Sukuna. A hand clutched at Satoru’s waist, squeezing tightly before it reluctantly let go. Four eyes focused on Satoru, so many emotions overflowing from them that they threatened to drown him in love.

“Deal.”

— ∞ —

The following evening, Satoru knelt on his bed, wings draped around him like a shawl as he prayed to Freyja. Shortly afterward, the image of his lady appeared like a mirage in front of him. Satoru took a deep breath and reported his mission progress, including Gersemi’s condition and Sukuna’s existence.

Throughout it all, Freyja listened solemnly without interrupting. When he finished, the goddess let out a weary sigh. “Thank you, Satoru. I have already spoken with Gersemi and reached a compromise. She will be briefly returning with her…” Freyja ground her teeth and spat out, “husband.”

Satoru winced at the goddess of war’s blatant disapproval of her daughter's partner. He sincerely hoped that an inter-realm war would not break out over their controversial marriage.

“You need not stay in Midgard any longer. Return to Fôlkvangr,” Freyja ordered.

This was where things got a little tricky. Satoru bowed and hesitantly spoke, “Lady Freyja, I wish to stay in Midgard for a while longer. The technology in this realm has surpassed my expectations, and there are many curious inventions that I believe Fôlkvangr may benefit from—”

“Enough,” Freyja interrupted, her voice booming through Satoru’s bedroom. “You do not need to explain yourself to me, Satoru. In the first place, you were never bound by servitude to me. If you choose to remain in Midgard, I will not stop you.”

Did my words anger Her? Satoru hurriedly lifted his head and explained, “My loyalty lies with you, Lady Freyja. I would never dream of betraying the kindness you have given me. I simply wish to explore Midgard for a while longer.”

Freyja’s eyes softened in understanding as a wistful smile graced her lips. “I know. I always knew this day would come. From the very moment I first laid eyes on you in Asgard, I knew that you were too strong, too willful to keep in a gilded cage. Yet in my arrogance, I thought I could keep you by my side by providing everything you needed: a purpose, a community, and material possessions. But they are not what you truly need or want, are they?”

Satoru wanted to deny her words, to protest that Freyja and the realm of Fôlkvangr were all he needed, but he knew it was a lie. He had distracted himself by raising the strongest generation of valkyries, establishing a sense of belonging for himself within the seidr temples, but it was something he only did because it was right—a step in the right direction, but not his ultimate goal.

What he truly desired was something more genuine: an equal, not a pupil. To others, he was Satoru because he was the strongest—the strongest valkyrie, the most powerful seidr, the one and only Six Eyes who dominated the Battle of the Gods eons ago.

But was there anyone who saw him beyond that? Someone who could strip back his layers of power and bravado, see into his soul, and still love him?

“I…” Satoru struggled to find the right words to explain how he felt. “I am not sure. I am not sure how to get what I want, or where to even begin looking.”

Freyja smiled fondly at her favorite angel, a child she had raised as her own. “I believe you do. That is why you wish to remain in Midgard with my grandson, is it not?”

The teasing tone at the end of her sentence had Satoru blushing, the tips of his ears turning pink. He didn’t expect Freyja to know of his situation with Sukuna; Gersemi must have told her. Grumbling, he denied, “That is not the only reason…”

A chiming laugh escaped Freyja’s lips as her eyes twinkled with mirth. “If you say so, my dear.”

With a wave of her hand, a golden bracelet passed through the mirage and into Satoru’s bedroom. Omniscient silver-blue eyes twinkled as they roamed over Satoru, immortalizing his image. “Satoru, you have my blessing. Go forth—travel the realms, seek out your nirvana. But if you find yourself yearning for the halls of Sessrúmnir, use this bracelet to return home. Fôlkvangr, and I, will always welcome you.”

Satoru thought back to the first time he met Freyja. Heartbreak and grief had ravaged the goddess, her once-golden locks becoming dry, brittle weeds. Perhaps they had met each other at the right time, a fallen deity and an orphaned angel, saving each other before they each burned to death from grief and rage.

Holding back the tears in his eyes, Satoru accepted the bracelet and bowed deeply to his goddess. “Thank you, Lady Freyja.”

— ∞ —

When winter arrived, Satoru spent most of his time indoors, opting to laze around in Sukuna’s estate instead of flying through the skies. The one exception was during snowy days. As an eternal spring paradise, Fôlkvangr never snowed. Thus, it was Satoru’s first time experiencing the wonder—and downsides—of snow.

Currently, Satoru sat cross-legged on the soft rug of their family room with his wings spread out across an oversized sofa. The fireplace crackled, accompanying the shuffling sounds of Satoru’s feathers as Sukuna worked on drying them.

“Done,” Sukuna declared, and Satoru moved his wing off the couch, placing the next one on the dragon’s lap. An amber flame lit up on Sukuna’s palm as he smoothed it over the wing, carefully brushing each feather for dirt and snow.

Satoru eyed the loose feathers that Sukuna not-so-furtively hid behind a cushion. Angels shed their feathers on a seasonal basis, and the demigod took full advantage of that, stashing the fallen feathers away in a bejeweled treasure chest at the foot of his bed. Satoru would have called him out for it if it weren’t for how endearing and flattering the action was.

By the time Sukuna finished grooming all six wings, Satoru was on the verge of falling asleep. His snowy lashes drooped down, head leaning against Sukuna’s thigh. He would have drifted off into dreamland if the mischievous dragon hadn’t pressed a kiss onto his temple.

When he cracked open his eyes and leveled a fierce glare at the dragon, Sukuna smiled and asked, “Hungry? I can whip up a light dinner.”

Satoru hummed in agreement and slowly stretched his wings, making them ripple like waves as they slapped over Sukuna’s face. If the dragon disliked it, he didn’t say anything.

One dragon and one angel stood in the kitchen preparing for dinner. Ever the excellent conversationalist, Satoru asked Sukuna a completely innocuous question. “Would you have fallen in love with me if I were not strong?”

Sukuna cracked another egg and immediately replied. “No.”

Bang. The knife Satoru had been holding sliced down the cutting board, splitting it into two. Eyes glowing with murderous intent, he sneered, “Oh, is that so? Then you ought to find a younger mate who is in their prime physical state.”

Sukuna took one look at his enraged valkyrie and scoffed. “You misunderstand me. You angels and gods see strength in such a one-dimensional way. Strength is not just superficial power or extraordinary talent; it is also the strength of character and will.”

“That is why I said my mother did not do you justice in her stories,” Sukuna declared, furiously beating the eggs in the metal bowl. “You are far more beautiful in spirit than she had alleged.”

“To me, you possess all those qualities and more; a burning soul whose flames mark all beings you touch. Your magic and abilities come second. Although…” Sukuna smirked, eyeing Satoru’s wings with unveiled appreciation. “Six Eyes is a sight to behold on you.”

Flustered, Satoru glanced away at his housemate. He was unsure how to respond to such blatant praise when it wasn’t about his technique or title as the strongest. “Well, of course, it’s a sight to behold. I wouldn’t be this strong without Six Eyes…”

Frowning, Sukuna set down the mixer bowl and stared at Satoru in disbelief. “Is that what you think? I see the opposite. On its own, Six Eyes is not an omnipotent power. The ability to see and predict fate is not unique to you, Satoru. Plenty of seers are capable of similar abilities. Even my mother, who barely practices seidr magic, has prophetic vision.”

…What was going on? A young dragon who barely knew anything of this world was lecturing Satoru on his own ability? Speechless, he could only stand in appalled silence as Sukuna continued his rambling.

“You are renowned across the Nine Realms because of the way you wield your ability. An ability that should have been purely defensive, but was molded into the strongest, most formidable technique by your hands.”

Sukuna leaned across the kitchen island and slowly caressed an otherworldly pupil on Satoru’s wing. His bloodred eyes reflected sincerity and adoration as he whispered, “You are strong because that is who you are, not because some named technique made you strong. And that is what makes you so magnificent, and so easy to fall in love with.”

So are you. Satoru almost blurted out. Right now, in this moment, Sukuna looked like a saving grace, a nirvana that he could call home. It made it so easy to fall into his embrace, to fall in love with him.

“Sukuna,” he called out faintly.

The dragon responded to his call. “Yes?”

Satoru stood on his tiptoes, wings fluttering slightly to lift him a few inches above the ground. Cupping Sukuna’s face in his hands, he leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss onto his forehead.

“Thank you.”

Thank you for showering me with unconditional love and faith.

The seasons passed in the blink of an eye. For immortals like them, two years was nothing in the grand passage of time. Still, Satoru was surprised at how easy it was to fall into a routine with the demi-dragon, at how seamlessly they fit into each other’s lives.

And now the time had come for the valkyrie to give the dragon his answer.

They were in the kitchen preparing dinner when Satoru casually dropped the bombshell. When Sukuna heard the soft-spoken promise, he froze, dropping the burning lasagna onto his hands. It sizzled against his impervious dragon skin before sliding onto the ground.

Satoru went to grab a mop, lamenting, “My lasagna! Now we have to make something else!”

Four hands dragged him back. “Do you mean it, Satoru?”

Satoru glanced to the side, face turning rosy as he pointedly ignored Sukuna’s piercing stare. “Yes…don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Toru, I…”

Without giving Sukuna time to wax poetic, Satoru cut him off, face turning redder as he rambled, “Your rut starts next week, right? I took the next two weeks off from work, so we can stay home and do whatever you want.”

He could feel Sukuna’s body temperature rising and breath turning heavy when he was abruptly turned around and slammed into the kitchen cabinets.

The last time this happened, Satoru had escaped from Sukuna’s clutches, afraid of committing to a lifetime with him. This time, Satoru wrapped his arms around his younger dragon and smiled, tilting his neck to the side. Sukuna’s eyes instantly zeroed in on the pale expanse of his neck.

Unmarked, but not for long.

The demigod swallowed audibly as his eyes flitted between Satoru’s face and neck. “Can I…?”

“I already told you, yes—”

Satoru gasped as sharp fangs sank into his neck. Gersemi had told him how it would feel, but words paled in comparison to his actual experience. It felt like molten lava had been injected into his veins, spreading a burning yet pleasant, addictive sensation from his neck to the rest of his body. Although he couldn’t see it, he could feel a mark forming on his neck: a golden-red crest that represented Sukuna’s soul and name, recognizable to all dragons.

The sensation in his body was too much, and Satoru couldn’t help the whine that escaped his lips, his lover’s—his mate’s name on his mouth like a beautiful melody.

An unfamiliar scent filled his nose, and he choked from how concentrated it was—woody with notes of amber and spice, like a cozy fireplace in winter. Although he had never smelled this before, he instinctively knew that this was Sukuna’s scent.

And he also instinctively knew that Sukuna’s rut had arrived.

“You’re early,” Satoru gasped, pushing against Sukuna as his wings flared behind him.

But the dragon refused to let up, instead biting down harder and drinking in the angel’s essence. After what felt like a century, he finally let go, albeit reluctantly.

Satoru took in the sight of his lover and was so relieved that they were alone, because Sukuna’s face looked debauched, downright sinful. His draconic horns had fully erupted, extending above his head like a crown of blackened bones. Blood dripped down his canines and flushed up his cheeks, while his four eyes and face marks glowed in burning lust. Satoru knew his own expression did not fare any better.

What a sight we must make. Satoru let out a laugh, bright and angelic. To think that such an important event, the turning point that would determine where his heart would lie for the remainder of his life, took place in their kitchen. With a splattered lasagna on the floor, no less.

But it was the mundane things, the imperfections of it all, that made this all the more perfect for them.

“You’re early,” Satoru repeated.

“Because of you,” Sukuna retorted.

“I should compensate you, then.” Satoru ran his fingers through his mate’s hair, reveling in the silky strands and dragon horn protruding from beneath. “But dinner first. I’m afraid you won’t let me go once we start.”

“Oh,” Sukuna smiled, voice low in a threat and a vow, “I will never let you go.”

— ∞ —

“Satoru.”

A rustling of the bedsheets, then a return to silence.

“Toru.”

Satoru blearily opened his eyes and took in his surroundings. He slowly lifted himself up, flinching as their fluids dripped down his thighs and slicked the sheets with the heady scent of both their pheromones. His body ached with every movement, and his eyes traced the bite marks and bruises on his skin.

Empty bowls and takeout containers littered the floor. He spotted a laundry basket with freshly washed garments. At least Sukuna had the decency to replace their bedsheets and wash their soiled clothes. How many days had passed since the dragon’s rut started? Or was it weeks? Satoru didn’t know anymore.

“Little troublemaker,” he scolded fondly, flicking the tip of Sukuna’s nose.

Instead of apologizing, the source of all his pain—and pleasure—blinked innocently at him, feigning ignorance. “I thought you knew. Dragon cycles are usually like this. In fact, I was pretty tame this time.”

Satoru scoffed. Tame, my ass. “How could I have known. This is our first rut together, and we’ve only known each other for two years…”

Before Satoru could launch into another wordy complaint, Sukuna cradled his head and leaned their foreheads together. “And we’ll have an eternity to learn about each other now that we are mated.”

Their lips met in the middle, savoring each other’s taste. Satoru smiled into the kiss and took control, pulling on Sukuna’s hair to angle his head in the way he liked. He could kiss his man forever, and he regretted not doing so sooner.

In that moment, glimpses of Sukuna’s future suddenly flipped through his mind like a film roll, until he wasn’t sure if he was viewing Sukuna’s fate or his own.

However, there was one thing he had confidence in. This was his nirvana, his eternal paradise, wrapped in the warmth of his dragon’s loving embrace.

“I love you too,” he whispered in realization, sensing in awe as their bond pulsed and rooted deeply into his soul, filling in the empty void that he had long assumed would never be filled. He watched as the love of his life trembled and leaned down to swallow his confession, eyes reddened in the corners.

So this is love.

If this was what life would be like with Sukuna, then Satoru wouldn’t mind spending eternity with him.