Chapter 1: The Shy Bunny's First Time
The air in the hutch’s cozy corner was always warm, thick with the scent of clean straw and sleepy fur. A single bulb buzzed overhead, its flickering glow painting long shadows across the half-moon of bodies curled around the central heat source. Sukuna.
He lay stretched out on his back across the large floor cushion, one arm tucked behind his head. Dark grey fur, dusted with russet along the heavy curve of his shoulders and the thick column of his tail, shifted with the slow, deep rhythm of his breathing. His other hand rested lazily on the hip of a dozing bunny hybrid curled into his side. He wasn’t asleep. His amber eyes were half-lidded, watching the soft comings and goings of the hutch with a predator’s patience, his sharp grin softened into something more content.
It was late. The quiet rustles had settled into a steady, peaceful hum. Which was why the new sound was so obvious—a faint, shuffling scrape of footpaws on wood, hesitant and stopping and starting again.
Sukuna’s ears twitched, tracking the source. He didn’t turn his head.
He knew that rhythm.
After a long minute, a pale shape resolved from the deeper shadows near the hay pile. Megumi stood there, slender and faintly luminous in the dim light, his long black ears drooping so low they framed his sharp, delicate face. He was worrying the hem of his black lace boyshorts with thin fingers, his blue eyes wide and fixed on the massive wolf hybrid. He took one small step forward, then froze.
Sukuna finally turned his head, his neck muscles rolling. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor,” he said, his voice a low rumble that didn’t disturb the sleeping rabbit.
Megumi flinched. “I’m not.”
“You are. Come here.”
It wasn’t a command, exactly. It was an offer. An open door. Sukuna lifted his hand from the rabbit’s hip and patted the space on the cushion beside him, right against the solid wall of his torso.
Megumi’s ears gave one helpless twitch. He made his legs move, each step careful and quiet, until he stood at the cushion’s edge. He stared down at Sukuna’s nakedness, the powerful sprawl of him, the heavy cock resting against his thigh. Megumi’s throat worked on a swallow.
“Everyone’s asleep,” he whispered, as if saying it out loud might break a spell.
“Not everyone,” Sukuna murmured. His hand came up, not grabbing, just hovering near Megumi’s hip. “Cold?”
Megumi shook his head, but a fine tremor was starting in his legs. He was always cold lately, a hollow chill no blanket seemed to touch. He looked from Sukuna’s face to the offered hand, then, with a shaky breath, he placed his own small, pale-furred hand in it.
Sukuna’s fingers closed, warm and utterly engulfing. He didn’t pull, just guided, and Megumi sank to his knees on the cushion. The heat coming off Sukuna’s body was immediate, intense, like stepping into sunlight.
“Been watching you watch me,” Sukuna said, his thumb stroking the back of Megumi’s hand.
“I haven’t—”
“You have. For weeks.” Sukuna’s grin returned, a flash of white in the gloom. “What’s the holdup, bunny?”
Megumi’s free hand went back to plucking at his lace hem. “It’s… you’re…”
“Big?” Sukuna supplied, and the rumble in his chest was amused. “Yeah. I know. It’s not a secret.” He shifted then, rolling slightly onto his side to face Megumi more fully. The movement made everything about him more present, more real. The rabbit hybrid mumbled and snuggled deeper into the blankets, asleep. “You don’t have to do anything. You can just sit. Warm up.”
That was the thing. Megumi didn’t want to just sit. The wanting was a tight, anxious knot in his belly, separate from the fear. He’d watched others approach Sukuna with easy smiles and hungry hands, watched them climb into his lap and ride him with sighs and slick sounds, watched them walk away after, loose-limbed and satisfied. He wanted that release, that warmth, that forgetfulness. He was just terrified of the getting there.
“I want to,” Megumi blurted, the words barely audible.
Sukuna’s gaze softened. “Yeah?”
Megumi nodded, his ears swinging forward. “I don’t know how to start.”
“That’s easy.” Sukuna released his hand and instead slid his palm around to the small of Meguna’s back. The touch was firm, grounding. “You come here.” He applied gentle pressure, urging Megumi to straddle his thighs.
Moving felt like walking off a cliff. Megumi climbed over, his knees sinking into the soft cushion on either side of Sukuna’s hips. He was close now, so close he could feel the heat radiating from Sukuna’s skin, see the individual darker strands in his grey fur. And there, between them, was the reality of him. Thick, and heavy, and already beginning to swell with interest. Megumi’s breath hitched.
“See?” Sukuna said, his hands coming to rest on Megumi’s thin waist. “You started.”
“It’s bigger now,” Megumi whispered, horrified and fascinated.
“You’re here. That does that.” One of Sukuna’s hands left his waist to grip himself, giving a slow, languid stroke. The sheer size of him in his own fist made Megumi feel faint. “You’re in charge, Megumi. You set the pace. You take what you need.”
“I need…” Megumi’s voice failed. He leaned forward, bracing his hands on Sukuna’s broad chest. The fur there was surprisingly soft. He could feel the powerful heartbeat beneath. Steady. It gave him a sliver of courage. He lifted his hips, a clumsy, ungraceful movement, and Sukuna helped, aligning the broad, blunt head of his cock with the damp, fragile lace covering Megumi’s entrance.
Even through the fabric, the pressure was immense. A promise of stretch. Megumi whined, high in his throat.
“Shhh,” Sukuna soothed, his hands back on Megumi’s hips, holding him, not pushing. “Just the first bit. Easy. Just let it in.”
Megumi let his weight sink down.
The lace was a fleeting, rough barrier before it was pushed aside. The head, slick with his own nervous moisture and Sukuna’s pre-come, pressed against him. It was blunt, impossibly wide. It burned.
Megumi cried out, a short, sharp sound, and his body locked up, every muscle going rigid with panic. He was full, and he’d barely taken anything.
“Breathe,” Sukuna commanded, his voice a low anchor in the whirl of Megumi’s fear. “Out. Let it out.”
Megumi forced a shuddering exhale. As he did, his body reluctantly gave way, accepting the brutal intrusion another fraction of an inch. The burn bloomed into a deep, filling ache. He panted, eyes screwed shut, fingers clutching desperately at Sukuna’s fur.
“Good. So good. You’re taking it so well.” Sukuna’s praise was a continuous murmur, warm against his ear. “Just like that. Little more.”
He didn’t force it. He just held him, his thumbs making slow circles on the sharp points of Megumi’s hip bones, waiting. The unbearable pressure began to shift, transforming into something else. A profound, unfamiliar fullness. Megumi’s body, traitorously, began to relax around the invasion, seeking to accommodate.
He sank down another inch, then another, each movement a conscious surrender. The stretch was beyond anything he could have imagined. It felt like he was being split open, remade from the inside. He could feel the shape of Sukuna inside him, a dense, relentless presence. When he finally seated himself fully, his ass meeting the hard plane of Sukuna’s hips, he was shaking all over, sweat beading on his temple.
He was full. Devastatingly, completely full. There was no room in him for anything else—no cold, no anxiety, no thought. Just this staggering, visceral reality.
“Open your eyes,” Sukuna whispered.
Megumi did. Sukuna’s amber gaze was hot, focused entirely on him. One of his big hands slid from Megumi’s hip, up over the trembling plane of his belly. He pressed down gently, just below Megumi’s navel.
Megumi gasped.
He could feel it. Inside. A hard, distinct bulge pressed against Sukuna’s palm from within his own slender body. The proof of what he’d taken. The sheer, impossible size of it housed inside him.
A fractured sob escaped Megumi’s lips. It wasn’t pain. It was awe. A dark, dizzying wave of possession.
“See?” Sukuna’s predatory grin was back, all sharp teeth and wicked pride. “All of it. You took all of me, little bunny.”
He began to move then, not by thrusting, but by guiding Megumi’s hips in a tiny, shallow rock. The motion sent sparks through Megumi’s overloaded nerves. The initial sharp ache was melting, dissolving into a deep, throbbing heat that pooled low in his belly. His own neglected pussy, now stretched so exquisitely tight, began to weep around the massive shaft, providing a slick, hot glide.
“That’s it,” Sukuna encouraged, his own breath starting to come faster. “Use me. Get what you need.”
Megumi’s hesitance shattered. A needier sound ripped from his throat, and he started to move in earnest, lifting himself up until just the head remained inside before sinking back down with a desperate, greedy want. The stretch was smoother now, a delicious burn with every drop. He was no longer quiet, his whimpers and gasped pleas filling the cozy corner, harmonizing with the soft slap of skin and Sukuna’s deepening growls.
He clutched at Sukuna’s shoulders, his world narrowed to the pistoning drive of his own hips and the relentless pressure filling him to the brim. The visible bulge in his stomach shifted with every movement, a constant, obscene reminder. He was so full he thought he might break, and the terrifying part was he wanted to.
Sukuna’s hands gripped him harder, helping him move faster, driving him down onto his cock with more force. “Gonna come,” Sukuna warned, a raw grind in his voice. “Gonna fill that tight little pussy up. Is that what you need?”
“Yes,” Megumi begged, mindless, bouncing wildly. “Please, please, I need—”
The climax took him violently, a seizing, white-hot wave that clenched around the invading thickness, milking it. He felt the hot, sudden flood deep inside as Sukuna followed, a pulsing rush that seemed to go on forever, adding to the impossible fullness.
Megumi collapsed forward, boneless, his face buried in the fur of Sukuna’s neck. He was shaking, overstimulated and thoroughly ruined, Sukuna still buried to the hilt inside him, still throbbing. The heavy warmth of the come inside him was a new, startling feeling.
They stayed like that for long minutes, just breathing. The other hybrids slept on, undisturbed. The single bulb flickered.
Finally, Sukuna’s hand came up to stroke slowly down the length of one of Megumi’s velvet ears. “Okay?” he rumbled.
Megumi didn’t have words. He nodded weakly against Sukuna’s neck. He was more than okay. He was fundamentally changed. The hollow cold was gone, replaced by a liquid, seeded heat.
But as the sharp pleasure ebbed, a new, quiet panic began to creep into the edges of his bliss. This was it. This was what he’d been watching, what he’d craved. And now he’d had it. The thought of going back to his own cold nest in the straw, of this connection being severed, of Sukuna becoming just a distant warmth across the hutch again, felt like a loss he couldn’t bear.
He made a small, distressed sound, his fingers tightening unconsciously in Sukuna’s fur, holding on.