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retiredteabag · 3 days ago

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sukuna request 🩷

when sukuna comes home, he sees that we’ve dyed our hair and the bathroom is stained with hair dye

The sincerest form of flattery

Synopsis: Sukuna comes home to a crude imitation of himself, how is it his blood does not boil with distaste?

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It was not uncommon for Lord Sukuna to arrive at the estate covered in sticky red blood. It would often have dried to his robes before he would bathe and rid himself of the substance.

Looking at your reflection now, you are sure the pair of you have never looked more similar.

You had given up on gloves long ago, the red staining your hands in a horrific way, you wondered what the man would say when he arrived at the estate.

Your hair had yet to fully dry, a duller pink than the king of curses, but a mimic of the man nonetheless. He was able to make it work in a way you could not quite understand, spinning in the mirror to see the damage, you begin to feel a bit guilty for the estates service workers.

The walls, the sink, the floor, it all had- well... what appeared to be blood splattered across it. A particularly incriminating towel lay across the counter, dripping onto the tiles below.

Silent giggles escaped you as you tried to wipe the dye from your hands. What would Sukuna say when he got home? You wondered.

You had just started to make headway cleaning the floors when you felt it. He was within the estate.

For reasons unknown to you, you started to become anxious. Cleaning faster, and anxiously checking the mirror to fix your appearance.

It was not long, of course, before he was standing in the threshold of his chambers washroom.

Any other time you might've found it sweet that he came straight to you after arriving home. He would never say it, but he was quite like a jungle cat in his own way, yet loyal as a dog. He would never stray too far from you. Your presence his energy.

But now. Bent across the floor, a stray hair fallen to your face, and the corrosive scent of ammonia wafting through the room, you feel a bit sheepish as his eyes take in the scene.

"What...ever are you doing?" His upper set of arms are crossed, his eyes analyzing the room.

You haven't a clue how to respond. A laugh is bubbling up but you try very hard to keep it down. Your fists are balled in the cleaner of the towels available to you as you glance at the floor and bite your lip.

Sukuna is taking measured steps to you now, his eyes narrowed. From your kneeled position on the floor, he looks even more enormous than usual.

The right words escape you so you build the courage and mutter, "I'm just like you, see?" And wave a hand to the room.

"You... what?" He hisses. Turning to see what you are referring to. Before he looks back to you, you stand, brush your wet hands down the large shirt that has become a blood-stained smock, and grin. You swipe your hands down the length of yourself.

"See? The hair, the... bloody room..."

He is making an odd movement in the muscles of his neck, and squinting at you, "This is not blood. I can tell with certainty."

"Yes, well... that's true, but don't we look similar?" You grin up at the giant, awaiting his response. Perhaps he will roll his eyes and walk to the bedroom of his chambers, or maybe he will demand you clean the mess you have made.

"You cannot possibly believe we look remotely similar." His biceps are flexing and there is a rosiness to his cheeks.

You turn now to look at the mirror, reaching to tug on his lower hand, "Look. I just need some tattoos now."

Sukuna flexes his hand in your grasp and you drop it that instant. He has never been the most physically attuned. Even so, just as you have made to step from him, his arms reach out, grabbing you by your torso and lifting you to his height.

His eyes roam over your hair and your face. There is a little dye on your hairline and he licks a thumb to rub at it.

"Ugh- ew... don't spit on me..."

His eyes squint in annoyance. Dropping you just a hair's breadth from the floor. Just as he is turning to leave you see the tips of his ears burn under the lights in his lavatory.

"You are a ridiculous beast." He finally announces.

"You don't like it? We match now!" You smile, knowing that if he had any qualms he would have said so without restraint.

"You are a filthy beast too. And lucky, lucky a bath is being drawn for me now." He runs a hand through his pink locks, the very hair that you are now sporting.

"And why does your bath make this filthy beast lucky?" You grin, coming to wrap yourself around his forearm.

He lifts you from the ground with the strength of that one arm. Curling you nearer now to his face.

"Because I am eternally gracious and will allow you to cleanse yourself alongside me." He states. Sharp canines glimmer in your eyes and you smile.

"My, that is very generous." You attempt to swing yourself down but his arms wrap around you.

He truly has the perfect anatomy for snuggling, though he hates to hear it. Effortlessly, he sets you upon one shoulder and carried you both to the bathhouse.

"I am known to be." He grunts. "For you." His upper right hand comes to curl a lock of your newly colored hair around his finger, a hidden smile gracing his lips.

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getoslamb · 11 hours ago

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Kinktober Day 27 - Size Difference with Sukuna Ryomen

contains: nsfw content: (mdni), fempov, pnv (unprotected), creampie, size difference, cervix fucking mention?, slight breeding kink, stomach bulge, fingering, calls you 'pet'

˚₊‧ for more kinktober here - wc: 2k

a/n: he's not true form here because i kinda forgot about that when i was writing, my bad.......also not proofread

His gaze swept over you, taking in the soft curve of your body against his bed, the way the silk caught the light as it draped across your skin. There was a flicker of something dark and amused in his eyes, sending your heart into a sprint.

“You waited,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, yet somehow warm. He reached out, his hand large enough to frame your entire face as his thumb brushed your cheek, tracing a line down along your jaw and lingering at the hollow of your throat.

The weight of his touch, gentle but commanding, sent a shiver through you, your skin responding to him with a tremor you couldn’t suppress.

You felt shy under his gaze. "Always," you managed, the word coming out soft, like he'd sucked the air from your lungs. A deep chuckle rumbled from his chest; the sound rolled through you, deepening the ache pooling low in your belly.

He leaned in, his large frame hovering over yours as the bed dipped under his weight. His mouth claimed yours in a slow, possessive kiss, his lips moving against yours as if he'd waited forever for that moment. As he pulled back, his eyes were molten- as he surveyed you -reflecting the look of a man desperate for you.

His hand slipped to your waist, his fingers splayed across your hip, his thumb tracing the curve of your ribs as if every gentle stroke was a reminder of the power in his hands, the ease with which he could break you if he wanted. His fingers drifted to the edge of your silk clothing, his eyes darkening into a blur as he drank in the sight of you.

“So small,” he murmured, almost as if marvelling at the difference. “So perfect, just like this...in my hands, completely mine.” His lips curled in a faint, knowing smirk, clearly delighted by the shy look on your face at his words.

With a gentle touch, he eased you back onto the bed, his weight pressing down, warm and solid against you, enveloping you completely. He kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands exploring you with reverent intensity, like he wanted to memorise every curve, every breath you took beneath him. Each caress reminded you of just how much larger he was, his presence wrapping around you, pinning you beneath him in a way that made you feel both vulnerable and safe.

His lips brushed close to your ear, his breath warm, and his voice dropped to a low, rough murmur. “You’re so precious, so beautiful” he growled, the words thick with desire. “I could spend hours just worshipping this body of yours.”

A soft gasp escaped your lips as his mouth traced a path down your neck, his tongue hot against your skin. He gently removed the silk clothing, letting it drop off your shoulders and baring you more to his gaze. His thumbs brushed over your nipples, sending a spark through you that arched you into his touch, hungry for more.

"Look at you," he whispered, “So eager.” His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling the nipple before enclosing around it, each flick and gentle nip making you tremble beneath him, your skin alive with need as his hands roamed across your skin, his mouth hot against your breasts.

"Please," you whispered, your hands threading through his hair as you pulled him closer, desperate. "I need you."

His dark laugh rumbled through his chest, amused by your impatience. "Patience, pet."

His hand drifted lower, fingertips tracing down your stomach before he reached between your thighs, the heat of his touch sending sparks through you. You gasped as he brushed along your folds, teasing, light as a feather. "Already so wet for me," he murmured, clearly pleased as he circled your clit with his thumb. "You want me that badly, don’t you?"

His finger slipped inside you, stretching you deliciously. You gasped, arching into him as he worked you open, his finger far larger and thicker than your own. "That’s it," he whispered, his voice thick. "Let me get you ready for my cock."

As he slid a second finger inside, the stretch made you gasp, your body thrilling at his touch, the burn and pleasure mixing as he skillfully worked his fingers, curling them to press deep against your inner walls. The intensity of his touch made your toes curl, each movement bringing you closer, making you needier.

“Good girl,” he purred, watching your reaction with a possessive glint in his eyes. “Look at you, taking my fingers so well…Gonna feel so good with this pussy wrapped around my cock.”

His fingers moved faster, the pace and pressure making your body tremble under him. The intensity of his touch, the delicious ache from the stretch, drove you to the brink. His thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing slow, firm circles that left you breathless.

He eased a third finger inside, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched you grow impossibly close to that sweet release. His voice was a dark, comforting rumble. “That’s it. You’re ready for me, aren’t you?” His lips brushed over your neck, his touch possessive yet reverent, claiming you in every way.

And as he continued to move, every press and curl of his fingers prepared you for the moment he would finally take you, filling you completely, wholly, leaving no part of you untouched.

The dual sensations overwhelm you, sending you spiralling into an intense release that crashes over you like a tidal wave. Your inner muscles tighten around his fingers as pleasure ripples through your body. He doesn't relent, his fingers moving with expert precision, easing you through the waves of ecstasy until your strength fades, leaving you soft and pliant beneath him.

"That's it," he murmurs, easing his fingers out slowly, feeling your body's response as it shivers in the afterglow. "Nice and ready for me now."

His darkened gaze drinks in the sight of you, lying so open, so small against his towering frame. The anticipation in his expression holds a promise that makes your heart race, and you feel a thrill of both longing and surrender. You want him—want him to claim you so thoroughly you’ll remember every inch of his presence.

It’s not long before he settles between your thighs, his broad, powerful form enveloping yours, making you feel delicate in comparison. As he brushes the length of his cock against your wet folds, teasing you as a shiver travels up your spine. You arch instinctively toward him, feeling his low chuckle resonate through his chest.

“Look at you, all ready for me,” he murmurs, guiding himself to your entrance with teasing deliberation. “Eager little thing… practically begging for me.”

You brace yourself as he presses forward, the pressure building until, with a single, powerful thrust, he fills you completely, stretching you around his size in a way that makes you gasp, a sharp sound escaping your lips. Your body instinctively arches beneath him, accommodating his fullness, the sensation intense and exhilarating.

“Fuuuck,” he groans, stilling for a moment, savouring the way your body wraps around him. “So fucking perfect- Like you were made just for me.”

He withdraws slowly, letting the anticipation build, before burying himself back in again, setting a deep, steady rhythm that shakes your core and steals the breath from your lungs. Each movement drives him deeper, his hips pressing flush against yours as he claims you completely, your surroundings blurring as all you feel is him.

His eyes meet yours, the smirk tugging his lips upwards. "I'm going to ruin you," he mutters, low. "So deep you'll still feel me tomorrow.

He leans down and reaches for your legs, drawing them up and back until you’re practically folded in half. This new angle allows him to plunge in even deeper as the head of his cock kisses your cervix with every stroke. You can only cling for life as your fingernails dig into his shoulders when you take him inch by inch.

As he thrusts into you, you feel the unmistakable bulge of his length pressed against your lower belly.

Each downward thrust, in which he bottoms out inside you, causes the head of his cock to nudge against your cervix. "Look at that," he growls, his eyes dark with lust as he watches his shaft disappear into your body. "My cock splitting you open, stuffing this tight little cunt so full." He leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he continues to pound into you.

The new angle makes him hit even deeper, the bulge in your belly growing more pronounced with every thrust. "Gonna fuck a baby into you," he pants against your lips, his hips snapping forward with renewed vigor. "Knock you up, make this belly swell with my child." He takes your hand, guiding it to the prominent bulge in your lower belly.

"Feel that?" he growls, pressing your palm against the outline of his cock stretching you. "Feel how deep I am." He rolls his hips, grinding against you so you can feel every thick inch of him throbbing inside you. "Fuck, you're so hot like this," he pants, his thrusts growing erratic.

"Taking my cock so deep, letting me reshape this greedy hole to fit me perfectly." He leans down, biting at your neck as he ruts into you. The pleasure builds at the base of your spine, coiling tighter with every drag of his cock against your sensitive walls. "Gonna fill this pussy up," he grunts, his fingers digging into your hips. "Paint your insides with my cum until it's dripping out of you."

His words send you over the edge and your orgasm crashes over you. Your body spasms as wave after wave of ecstasy breaks over you. Your walls clench down on Sukuna's cock, fluttering as you gush around him, milking his cock for all its worth.

With a final, guttural groan, he buries himself to the hilt and pulses inside you, his hot seed flooding your channel. You can feel it, the way your belly seems to swell with each jet of cum, claiming you from the inside out. His cock twitches and pulses inside you, spilling rope after rope of thick, hot cum deep into your spasming cunt.

"Fuck, take it all," he groans, his hips stuttering as he empties himself into you. Your inner walls milk him for every last drop, greedy for him. When he finally stills, his softening cock still buried inside you, you can feel the obscene amount of cum leaking out around his shaft, trickling out.

"Look at that," he rumbles, his fingers scooping up some of the pearly fluid and bringing it to your lips. You part your lips obediently, letting him paint your tongue with his essence.

The taste is musky and slightly salty, a tangible reminder of his claim on you. He pulls out with a wet squelch, his softening cock slipping free of your abused hole. A river of cum follows, pouring out of you to pool on the sheets beneath your ass.

"Fuck, you're a mess," he chuckles, running his fingers through the slickness coating your thighs. "But such a pretty little mess. All marked up with my cum." He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you thoroughly as he tastes himself on your tongue.

You can't help but moan into the kiss, your body still trembling with the aftershocks of your orgasm. When he finally pulls back, you're both breathing heavily.

He tucks you into his side, his large hand splayed possessively over your lower belly. "Rest now, pet," he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “I’ll clean you up, just get some sleep.”

taglist:

@l0v3m3-p13as3 @hishearttohave @williamafton26 @kentochronicles

@jays-adventure3 @nctislifue @eeveedvck @needtoloveoutloud @yowumi

@sweetpo1son @betelgeuse420 @yuhig-blog @psychedellyc @char-35

@kaeyeahsworld @sukunadckrider @ladyackermanisdead @szired

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divinecrimson · 1 day ago

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JJK MEN WHEN SOMEONE BREAKS IN THE HOUSE SMAU

Warn: cursing, insults, mentions of violence and murder, mentions of fear, mentions of curses, arguing, reader gender is not mentioned, hiding.

Inclu: sukuna, geto, gojo, nanami, toji.

#funny #smau #jjk crack #jjk nanami #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #jjk gojo #jjk #jjk geto #jjk toji #jjk sukuna #jjk smau

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soleilchanson · 1 day ago

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Boxer!Sukuna who dedicates his first ever win to you

Note: female reader

Masterlist

Your heart was racing. Sukuna had prepared you for the fact that boxing arenas could get overwhelming with the constant yelling and cheering for violence, but you still felt uneasy watching your boyfriend receive punch after punch.

You knew your boyfriend was just a rookie boxer but you couldn’t help but pray that by some miracle, he would be able to defeat his opponent. He had been training specifically for this match for the past two months and had sacrificed his blood, sweat and tears for it. It didn’t help that his opponent was a seasoned winner.

Your chest tightened as Sukuna was struck down once again. All you could think about was how he would study his opponent’s moves late at night while you stayed up with him. You pressed your hands together, hoping that he would win by some miracle.

Almost as if on cue, Sukuna managed to dodge a critical hit and wound his arm to absolutely knock out his opponent. The other fighter fell on to the ground and did not get up even after the countdown. The referee grabbed Sukuna’s hand and raised it in the air as the crowd erupted in cheers.

You let out a sigh of relief and clapped as loudly as possible for your boyfriend’s triumph. It was his first win as a professional boxer. He was going to start making a name for himself pretty soon and you could only imagine what was to come after. He deserved this. It was all because of his hard work and resilience.

Sukuna’s tired eyes searched for yours in the VIP box and you smiled at him. He returned an exhausted one back to you and proceeded to do something you never expected.

He kissed his fingers and pointed to you, all your friends and in the VIP box began clamoring with teases and giggles.

Even while being adorned with his belt, Sukuna’s eyes never left yours. He mentioned earlier that your presence was integral to his success but you never knew it was to such a degree. You blew him a flowing kiss and he chuckled at the sight. He didn’t even bother to look at the cameras looming around him until his manager told him to pose for the pictures.

Of course, after his first win, he was immediately subject to a press conference. He sulked at first, hoping that he could share at least a moment with you before being bombarded with questions but he decided to get it over with so he could go home soon.

“Mr. Sukuna, how do you feel after your first win.”

“Fucking tired.” Your bruised and battered boyfriend replied. The crowded erupted into a few giggles and murmurs at his deadpan reply.

“Would you like to mention any people that helped you become a good fighter?”

“Aside from my coach, I want to dedicate my win to my girlfriend. She put up with a lot of my shit while training.”

You giggled at his reply from backstage. Supporting wasn’t a chore but it was extensive work. Cooking twice the amount of food so he could bulk, constantly having your sleep disturbed because he would train in the early hours of the morning, and not go too crazy when you ate out on dates was difficult but well worth the effort.

After the press conference, you two were back home. Sukuna had retired to your bedroom while you did the finishing touches of your night time skin care.

“The winner of today’s fight commands his woman’s presence.” Your boyfriend called out, urging you to hurry up. You put away your containers and walked to the bedroom. “I’m here, your majesty.” You sarcastically replied as you laid down next to him. He had a frown on his face from being alone.

He opened up the blanket to let you in and slotted you next to him with your back facing his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he tucked your head under his chin. “I forgot to congratulate you earlier.” You speak out.

He hums and squeezes you. “Thanks. Only took you 3 hours to say that.” You could almost feel him sulk.

“Can you blame me? You were surrounded by people. I needed to let you have your moment.” You reasoned.

“What about when we were driving back? It was just you and me in the car.”

“You fell asleep as soon as your ass touched the seat.”

He scoffed at your reply and pushed you away. “Whatever, it’s not like getting a congratulatory kiss from my girlfriend was the only thing I wanted.” He said as he turned his back you.

This man was a big baby. The world saw him as an upcoming and fearful fighter but here he was sulking over the fact that you didn’t give him attention.

You giggled and rubbed his back to soothe him. “I can still give you a congratulatory kiss if you want.” For a second, you swore that he almost turned around but he gave you the silent treatment instead. “Kuna,” you whined. As much as you cringed while saying it, you knew using that nickname was his weakness.

“What?”

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me give you the kind of kiss a winner deserves.” You said as you rubbed his stomach. The man turned around, eyes not meeting yours. He was still sporting the frown from earlier.

You held his face in your hands. Your fingers traced his tattoos and you could see his eyes rapidly moving because of your touch. You giggled and moved your fingers to his lips. Luckily, his opponent missed them during the fight so you could easily kiss him.

You slowly pressed your lips against his and he immediately reciprocated. While your touch was delicate with your hand on cradling face, his touch was rougher. His hand entwined in your hair as his body pressed to yours. Your tongue entered his mouth and he gladly welcomed it which a slight suck.

His free hand travelled down to your waist and rolled you on top of him. The kiss would’ve gotten more heated if he didn’t wince all of a sudden.

“What’s wrong, Kuna?”

He propped you back down on the bed. And grabbed the area right beneath his chest. “Ah shit, I forgot about my rib getting bruised.” You grimaced at the thought of him being in pain.

“Want me to get some ice? I can always sleep on the couch so I don’t end up accidentally kicking you.” You said out of concern.

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head. “Don’t worry, it’s not that bad.” He grabbed ahold of your waist again and just pulled you close to him. “I didn’t win that trophy so my girlfriend could sleep on the couch. And since I’m a boxing champion, I can handle a few punches from you.”

“But-“

“Shush.” He pecked you on the lips to keep you from protesting. “This is how I wanna celebrate my first win. With you next to me.”

#sukuna ryoumen x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna fluff #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x reader #sukuna #jjk x y/n #jjk au #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk #jjk fluff

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lemonlover1110 · 2 days ago

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hi 💓 I really love your blog so much and your writing is so incredible! I saw that your requests were open and I was wondering if you wanted to write something about moments when heianera!sukuna shows he loves reader? like maybe he collects little desserts or something like that? 💕💕

Pairing: Sukuna x f!Reader

Warnings: Fluff

*Thank you so much, dear❤️ I hope you enjoy

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sukuna isn’t affectionate whatsoever. He isn’t the type to hug or kiss you– And certainly not the type to tell you he loves you.

But you know he does.

He loves you more than anything else, and you’re quite sure that you’re the only person he loves. Actions speak louder than words, and every single one of his deeds just scream how much he loves you.

“What is this? Chocolate?” You ask one day as you’re brought a tray by the servants. A special treat since they got their hands on cacao beans, and they couldn’t desist from making the sweet treat.

The way your face lit up as you took the first bite changed something in Sukuna. It satisfied him in a manner that made him want to get you chocolates every day. Being fulfilled because of someone else’s joy is greater than love, he’s sure of that.

It’s not an easy feat, but he makes sure that after dinner you’re brought a tray of chocolates. A treat that he tried as well, but he spit it out within seconds. A whole tray just for you to feast on every night.

Sukuna cancels anything and everything just to watch you take that first bite. The little moan that leaves your lips as you taste it just feeds something in his wicked soul. You become more lively after you eat the first treat. Happier.

He fights it off but a smile almost comes to his lips as he watches you taste it. He becomes happy because you’re happy.

He’s sitting besides you, just watching you eat them as if you were a ferocious animal. As if you were him.

“Here, taste it. You’ll love it.” You bring the treat up to his lips. Your face is covered by it, and you’re chewing like a hungry woman. You’re salacious for more. Though you eat them often, your appetite for it is never satisfied. Sukuna doesn’t open his mouth even though you’re pressing the chocolate against his lips, making you say, “C’mon! It’s so good.”

He complies, and you practically shove it in his mouth. Sukuna tries to not spit them out, just to make you happy. He’ll eat the whole tray if you want, even if he’ll end up throwing up after. But thankfully by the way you eat, he knows that he won’t have to.

That’s love for him.

#dividers by cafekitsune #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna #sukuna ryomen #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jjk sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #ryoumen sukuna #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna jujutsu kaisen

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seonghrtz · 2 days ago

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𝑟elationship 𝒉eadcanons. 𐙚 両面宿儺 ( streamer!au ) fluff 434 words + warnings. occ sukuna | brain dump headcanons.

Your relationship has the whole grumpy x sunshine and ‘hates everyone but her’ vibe!

You're complete opposites in personality (and style), but you do have some tastes in common, which made matching easy.

When you met in person, Sukuna felt something different, but at first he denied his feelings, thinking it was too soon to develop anything.

At first, he was afraid to open up because he thought it would scare you away if you found out about his feelings.

But after you started dating, he opened up to you and is always open and straightforward about his feelings.

Sukuna loves to hear you talk, about anything. He loves your voice and listening to you is his way of getting to know you better.

He remembers everything you tell him, whether it's about you, your favorite show, or even some work gossip.

He likes all kinds of physical contact (as long as it's with you) and his favorite thing is when you run your hand through his hair.

Sukuna also likes it when you run your finger along his tattoos, following the lines, and secretly loves it when you ask him to color them.

He has a CD player in his house and has several CDs that he has recorded for you ⸻ the songs range from your favorites to songs that remind him of you to songs that remind him of your relationship.

Has a habit of calling you "sweetheart", "doll", "darling" and even calls you that when you're in the middle of an argument.

Sukuna hates to argue with you, but sometimes he's too stubborn to apologize first. In the end, a heart-to-heart will resolve everything.

Passenger princess privileges!!! He won't let you drive anywhere, that's his job.

It's a cliché, but Sukuna loves to see you wearing his clothes. Since he's very muscular, they tend to look big on you, which makes you look adorable in his eyes.

Matching Sanrio pajamas!!!

He likes to be the big spoon at bedtime; he feels it's his way of protecting you while you sleep.

On very hot days, he'll turn the AC on almost full blast just so he can hug you while you sleep.

Sukuna's addicted to your lips and will always find a way to steal a kiss from you.

And as shocking as it is, he likes long kisses because he can savor the moment.

Gentle, but can be rough (if you know what I'm talking about!!!)

You will always be the most beautiful person to him.

You're the only person who made him imagine getting married and starting a family.

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allisberris · 2 days ago

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this whole series is TEWWW GOOD but this one especially >>>>

Alexithymia

Things Reader Should Acknowledge: this is part of my Boy Nextdoor Series, reader and sukuna are in highschool, and they have yet to start dating,

Synopsis: When someone just won't leave you alone, Sukuna decides to take matters into his own hands.

A/N: I'm trying something new: writing from Sukuna's pov, this took me way longer than it should have

Taglist: @starlets-things

Please REFRAIN from REPOSTING MY WORK (REBLOGS ARE EXEMPTED FROM THIS RULE)

Sukuna couldn't stand this new guy — Luke.

Luke has been following you around campus all day, like a lost puppy. Sukuna knew better; Sukuna knew that this was all just an act — that sooner or later, Luke would try to get in your pants.

He's seen this happen to you before. It resulted in his shirt being stained with your tears as you cried in his arms.

Sukuna wondered why this made him so mad, why the ache in his heart increased, why you — the smartest in the class — couldn't even realize what you were doing to him.

Usually, you and Sukuna walk to class together. Actually, scratch that. You and Sukuna always walk to class together. But that almost changed today.

Sukuna told you that he had to use the bathroom, and to just wait outside for him — which is what you did. But when Sukuna finished his business and came outside, expecting to see you — which he he did; he did see you — but he didn't see just you. A blonde boy; Luke, was also there, attempting to look cool by leaning against the locker, and he was talking to you.

The pink-haired teen could've sworn that smoke came out from his ears at the sight before him. That Luke boy was taking up all of your attention that you didn't even notice that Sukuna had finished up in the restroom.

Sukuna approached you from behind, and put a firm hand on your shoulder, making you jolt in surprise before realizing it was just Sukuna.

"Oh, hey, 'Kuna! We were just talking about you," your cheery voice lightened Sukuna's mood just a bit, "this is Luke. He's new — just moved here from [insert city]. That's where you lived before moving here, right?"

Sukuna grunted in reply.

"See, you guys already have something in common."

Bless your sweet heart for trying.

Luke avoided Sukuna's eyes, "Uh, haha, yeah. Anyways, about what I asked you earlier—"

"What did you ask her about?" Sukuna asked, raising a brow.

"He was offering to walk me to class. Um, so about that—"

"Sorry, Kid. I'm already walking her to class. Besides, it's better that way. We have Chemistry together. Wouldn't wanna be late to your first class, Bud."

"Sorry, what? I'm in the same year as you. I am not a kid."

"Oh, my bad. I just assumed your age there. I was going off of your short stature."

You turned around to swat at Sukuna's arm, "Don't be mean. He's not even short, you're just a giant compared to everyone else."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, and took your arm, dragging you off to class and away from this wannabe.

"Hey, what's your problem? He was literally trying to be nice, like, I know we walk together but you could've at least told him that in a nicer way."

"My problem, is that that boy won't leave you alone. Can't he just take the hint that we're busy, and he's wasting our time?" Sukuna tightened his grip on your arm, and picked up his pace, you had to practically sprint to match his speed.

"Are you serious right now, Sukuna? He is not wasting my time. He's just being nice."

Nice? Were you that oblivious? Sukuna would show you what being nice really was.

The pink-haired teen groaned, "Again with that word, huh?"

And with that, the two of you guys enter the lab without another word.

You were fuming, why was Sukuna making this a whole ordeal? What does he have against Luke? (These questions were better left unanswered.)

Lunch wasn't any better. Sukuna sat across from you, as per usual, with your guys' friend groups as well. Only difference was a fly buzzing in your ear. Not literally, of course. But someone very much like it.

"So," Luke began — with his mouth full of food (to which you mentally gagged), "you free, this afternoon? I have this assignment and I'm sorta confused about it. I heard you're quite the smartie pants." You cringed at his words, again.

"I . . . actually—"

"If you're confused, just ask your teacher. It's really not that difficult," Sukuna quipped.

This time, you didn't scold Sukuna. After all, Luke was being an absolute pain in your ass.

Luke frowned, finally closing his mouth.

Thank the heavens, you sighed.

Sukuna noticed your relief, and smirked. He was glad you finally saw past Luke's façade.

Eventually, the bell rang, and most people started to throw away their trash and exit the cafeteria, you and Sukuna included.

You stood on your tippy toes in order to whisper in his ear, "I see why you were annoyed earlier. Hopefully Luke doesn't have the same class as us."

Today the universe was on your side, because guess who came waltzing into your English class? That's right, the annoying fly from earlier.

Sukuna facepalmed in disbelief, while you shrunk in your seat — hoping that Luke wouldn't notice you and the pink-haired boy sitting in the back, nonetheless, the empty desk right beside you.

Spoiler alert, none of your wishes were granted. Nada.

Luke practically skipped to his seat, and sat down on your right. All the while, your teacher droned on with her lesson.

You messily jotted down notes, and daydreamed for the majority of class.

Sukuna seethed with anger as he watched Luke slowly — but surely — edge his chair closer and closer to yours. You, on the other hand, seemed to not even notice the blonde's actions.

"—so, kids, I will be assigning a group project worth 35% of your grade. It will be due—"

Luke immediately put his arm around your shoulder, "Let's work together. It'll be super fun, you can come over to my house, tonight!"

Something in Sukuna snapped, he saw red. If he was a volcano, he would surely be erupting right now, "That's just too bad, Blondie. 'Cause she's working with me." Sukuna put his arm around your shoulder, pulling you to his chest.

Luke's expression twisted into looking utterly appalled by Sukuna. However, the pink-haired teen remained stoic.

Luke turned to you, to see how you would react, but you avoided his gaze. "Sorry, Luke. I'm sure there's someone else you can work with?"

Luke scoffed.

"Whatever." He muttered, under his breath, before storming off to elsewhere.

You turned to Sukuna and gently rubbed his arm in a coaxing manner, "Don't hurt him. Please."

Sukuna sighed — a long, deep sigh.

The rest of the day went by quickly, you and Sukuna forgot about Luke — almost as if he never even happened. You packed up your stuff and began the usual walk home.

Sukuna made small talk with you, his hands were stuffed in his pockets.

Jazz music played from nearby cafes, and bookstores. He noticed your gaze lingering on some windows. You stared especially long at a plushie of a hideous beast (Sukuna's way of saying animal).

Sukuna scoffed, "You seriously into that ugly shit?"

You laughed, "Well, I'm friends with you. So I guess you could say I like ugly things."

Sukuna rolled his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips. You made a mental note of him not denying the word "friends".

A fortnight had passed — since your meeting with Luke, and as you liked to call it; 'twas the season of love.

Unlike you, Sukuna frowned when he saw what day it was — the 14th of February. He groaned, and fell back asleep with an arm over his eyes.

The only reason Sukuna even made it to school was that you wouldn't stop spamming his phone with calls.

You had to practically drag him onto campus.

It was funny though, every class you entered, there was at least someone who gave you chocolates, or flowers, or both! Sukuna stifled many sneezes on that day, poor baby. Actually — not really.

You weren't the only one with many admirers, you see. Sukuna had many girls (guys as well) come up to him during class, during break, even when he was in the bathroom there were people trying to barge in.

Your day was going really well, well . . . until the end of school. Sukuna was about to head out through the school gates, when he noticed you weren't by his side anymore. His head whipped around to see none other than that blondie by your side.

Sukuna sighed, loudly. He thought he was finally free from this annoyance, but guess not.

"—I got you these chocolates, Y/N. Happy Valentine's Day!" Luke smiled.

You took the heart shaped box into your arms, "Thanks, Luke. I . . . appreciate it!" You struggled to find the words.

"Of course. I mean, a girl as beautiful as you deserves only the best, right?" Luke saw Sukuna standing just a few feet away from you, and sped up his speech, "A-anyways, bye, Y/N." The blonde boy sprinted away, almost tripping every few steps.

You sighed, and walked back towards Sukuna. He recognized the chocolates as a cheap brand from some drug store he visited to buy his grandpa's meds.

He looked at the box and rolled his eyes.

"Haven't we tried these chocolates before already? I thought you hated them," Sukuna scoffed.

You nodded, "It's not his fault. He just didn't know."

"Sure."

That same evening, you came over to Sukuna's house for your guys' weekly movie night. You had brought the chocolates you received at school and you shared them with Sukuna — he also had the chocolates he received.

A rom com played on the TV in Sukuna's room, the both of you were comfortably seated on his bed. You had your knees up to your chest, and a blanket wrapped around your whole body. Sukuna was different; he sat cross-legged, with only a pillow on his lap.

Then, he remembered.

"I'll be right back." The pink-haired teen abruptly stood up, temporarily blocking the screen with his tall figure, and stalked away to his closet. He slid the doors open and took out an Amazon box.

He presented it to you, and you asked, cocking your head to the side, "What's this?"

"Ignore the box, I had nothing else to put it in." He gestured for you to hurry up and open it. And that's what you did. Sukuna remained standing, near the bed.

Your eyes instantly lit up, a wide smile on your face.

"Aww, 'Kuna! You didn't have to." Inside the Amazon box was a pack of chocolates — that you actually liked — and the plushie you were staring at while walking home from school one day.

"I love it! Thanks a bunch!" You got up to your knees to reach Sukuna's face — you were still a little too short, so you pulled him down — and kissed him on the cheek, right as the couple on the screen kissed as well.

Sukuna looked taken aback, shocked, but not displeased — quite the opposite, really. He didn't know having a girl kiss him would feel so, so . . . what? He didn't know the right word for it. He didn't have the right word for it.

He turned around, concealing his reddening face, "It was no big deal, I just wanted to use you to get me something back for White Day."

You giggled, seeing the tips of his ears turning pink. He was lying, and you knew that.

When Sukuna finally calmed his pounding heart, he turned back around and sat on the bed next to you.

You could clearly see a stamp of your lip gloss stained onto his pale cheek, and you giggled again.

God, since when was your laughter like music from Heaven? Sukuna thought.

His heart was racing, again.

The night ended with you showering Sukuna with kisses all over his face, except for his lips. The movie was long forgotten.

Sukuna loved it. He loved the feeling of your lips all over him. He loved the ecstasy, the bliss, after it all. He loved you.

It's safe to say that you could not stop laughing at seeing his stained face. Seeing him covered in your kiss marks made you kiss him even more.

You took a picture of him, pictures actually. Enough pictures to fill up a 365 paged book. And you even got to capture a picture of him smiling, very different from the usual scowl on his face.

You set one of the shots as your wallpaper and another as your profile for Sukuna on your phone.

"Anyways," you started, after ceasing your attacks, "wanna get lunch some time? Heard there's a new place that just opened up."

Sukuna nodded, without a beat of hesitation.

Because if this was how he died, — you as the cause, with your kisses littered all over him — he wouldn't pull away from your grasps for even a second.

#sukuna fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #big brother sukuna

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reignpage · 9 hours ago

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College student!Sukuna

9:35am: what’s the rush?

warnings: 18+ mdni, possessiveness, masturbation, groping, coercion, panty sniffing/fucking, threats, teasing, edging, exhibitionism, established relationship

college student!sukuna is not a morning person. your boyfriend never has been; not even when he was just that guy who was a friend of a friend. and he reminds you of this fact every time you’re snapped from deep sleep by that obnoxious alarm clock.

for reasons that elude you, that shrill beep beep beep never wakes him up. but the slightest movement from you, as you drag your drowsy body from the bed, has his arm darting across and wrapping itself around your waist, before you’re being pulled to his side.

mornings are always a struggle with college student!sukuna who seems to have personal beef with the sun. his classes are all in the afternoon, he goes to the gym at night, and his refusal to attend any and all basketball training in the mornings led to training being moved to a time convenient to him. that’s how it works with your pink-haired boyfriend.

what he wants, he gets.

and right now, what he wants is to sink his cock into you.

you’re trying to leave, gulping down as much coffee as you can whilst you pack your backpack and slip on your shoes, but college student!sukuna is making it so very difficult for you.

“‘kunaaaa,” you whined, “i’m gonna be late. again.”

college student!sukuna has draped himself over you, clad only in black boxers, bare torso pressing warmth into your back, he nestles his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your shampoo. you know what this meant; the man is only ever touchy and pathetic when he’s horny. to an outsider, the view might be innocent — a cuddly boyfriend loving up on his beloved girlfriend before she leaves. sharing sweet hugs and kisses in the morning and wishing you well.

but that isn’t how college student!sukuna rolls. never has been. he isn’t ‘sappy’ (his words), isn’t a hormonal teenager who can’t regulate his urges —not anymore — and he certainly isn’t so pussy-whipped he’d ever beg for time and attention. he’s a big boy, after all.

that’s what he wants you to think.

well, you know better. the only thing big about him is his body, tall and muscular with the biggest cock you’ve ever had the pleasure of being completely dominated by.

and college student!sukuna is grinding said cock into your ass, ignoring your hissing and cursing. he’s making you spill coffee over yourself with the way he’s wrapping his arms around your body like unforgiving vines, tightening and loosening in time with the pulsing between your legs, groping and pinching where ever he pleases.

he’s so good at the art of persuasion. you hate that you can’t resist him and you hate even more, practically loathe, that he knows that.

“stay, baby, fuck that dumbass class. y’ hate that professor anyways.”

you stifle a moan when his large hand paws at your tit, kneading just how you like it, firm but gentle, unforgiving but loving. that’s how it always is with college student!sukuna. he fucks hard, fast and rough. he uses, dominates, and takes and takes for his own pleasure, finding a sick satisfaction in seeing you at your absolute weakest.

college student!sukuna is never satisfied with a quickie, he isn’t crude; he views sex as an art form, places it on a higher plane, worships it as his own religion. he takes his time pushing you to the very edge and dragging you back till you’re out of breath, heaving for air, and fumbling for grip. doesn’t stop until your eyes are perpetually rolled back, till his back is stinging from your claw marks, and until everything is downright filthy and obscene.

and sometimes, when he’s feeling particularly sadistic, he takes you both further.

that’s precisely why you are wriggling your way out of his grip and fixing him with an unyielding glare. you can’t afford to miss any more classes and especially not because of dick (even if that dick is really really good, and definitely not when that dick is a cocky piece of shit).

so, you stand your ground and ignore the warmth pooling in your panties. college student!sukuna is glaring right back, muscles in that tattooed torso rippling as he flexes like he’s torn between listening to you or to his dick. and when he throws a tsk at you, you know he’s doing the former. which shocks you to the point you’re stuttering.

wow, he’s actually behaving.

maybe it’s cause he sees that determination in your eyes, understands your passion for academia, and respects your ambitions. maybe it’s that very spirit that pulled, and continues to pull, him to you. that thought makes your heart flutter. he’s being such a good boy, and good boys must be rewarded, right?

college student!sukuna is boring a hole in the ceiling with his hatred for the education system and he’s muttering a sarcastic ‘see ya later’ when his vision is suddenly obscured and the most tantalising scent overwhelms him. it’s familiar and addictive, the kind of scent he had spent months wishing he could bottle.

you had thrown your panties at him.

“this shit gets you off, right?”

giggling at how he’s pressing that panty closer to his nose with one hand and rubbing a palm up and down his clothed cock without so much as another glance at your retreating form, you hike your bag over your shoulder and open the door. and before you leave, you can’t help but push your luck even more.

“be a good little puppy and lick it clean, ‘kay, ‘kunaaa?”

you know by the ‘fuck you’ that follows you out, and the deep groan echoing into the hallway, that college student!sukuna is gonna make you eat your words later. but you allow a sense of victory to carry you to class, and encourage that feeling to bloom when, as soon as you sit down, you receive a picture of ripped up panties painted with his promise for revenge and a text comes not even a second later.

“you be a good little puppy and lick this clean.”

#jjk x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #sukuna smut #jjk smut #sukuna drabble #sukuna oneshot #sukuna x you #sukuna ryomen #jjk drabble #jjk college au #sukuna college au

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decagondice · 2 days ago

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༓ Hands that haunt ༓

Soft!Sukuna x f!reader, sfw, Heian era

Sukuna’s hands have always been a point of fascination, both terrifying and irresistible. Today, they are gentle, brushing against your skin as he helps fasten your obi, the fabric winding snugly around your waist. His touch is possessive, yes, but also restrained, like he is rediscovering the sensation of tenderness, something foreign to him.

“You’re slow today,” you tease, glancing at him over your shoulder, expecting the sharp retort that usually follows such remarks. But instead, he hums, low and thoughtful, his hands stilling for just a moment, resting against the small of your back.

“I have all the time I need,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of command and languid desire, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.

The room feels smaller, more intimate, as his hands resume their work, lingering longer than necessary. There’s a vulnerability in the slowness, in the way he allows himself these quiet moments with you, moments where the world is reduced to the barest essence of touch, where destruction is forgotten, and all that remains is the steady pulse of life between you.

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noodle-is-unstable · 17 hours ago

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Hiiii! Group chats in which reader become distant bc they can't choose between characters and they're like why choose???

Pre throuple feels fitting for the first Group Chat drop 💖

A/N : As always when I start something new, please bare with me while I get down a style for how everyone would talk with each other. It may take a few SMAU's before I have it worked out. Also sorry for the weird picture layout, I went overboard, hit the picture limit and had to splice some together. Anywhoodle please enjoy!

The JJK Group Chat doesn't want you to choose (Pre Throuple)

Ft ~ Gojo x Reader x Geto, Toji x Reader x Shiu, Sukuna x Reader x Uraume, Nanami x Reader x Ino, Choso x Reader x Mahito

Synopsis ~ The JJK Group Chat doesn't want you to choose between them, so why not have both?

Content Warning ~ 18+, Crack is present, Suggestive, Language, microscopic bit of Angst, maybe a lil Fluff. I'm autistic IDK

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salsakiyoomi · 16 hours ago

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Trueform! Sukuna x sleepy reader… 😔

Where reader is sleepy but is still very affectionate just fluff🔆

“don't come too close.”

sukuna warns but you only pout and give him doe eyes — dammit, you're tugging on his heart strings.

“can't we cuddle like a normal couple, ryo?” you question, trying to snuggle closer to him but to now avail — he's practically on the edge of the bed now.

“no.” he says sharply, all four arms crossed.

“please?” you beg, giving him doe eyes once more as you try to snuggle closer to him.

he rolls his eyes, “dammit woman, why do you want to ‘cuddle’ as you say so much?”

“because, that's what couples do! besides, can't i just want to be near my dear boyfriend?” you say cheekily, wrapping and arm around his shoulders that barely goes all the way around from how broad they are.

he huffs and puffs, before hesitantly wrapping an arm around you.

“all four arms, ryo.” you demand, snuggling closer to him.

“don't regret this.” he murmurs, before cocooning you in his four arms and pulling you flush against his body.

“okay, now i can't breathe.” you squeak out.

“you're the one who wanted this.” he says, loosening his grasp around you a bit, enough for you to catch your breath.

you look up at him, and you can't help but notice a slight pink tinting the tips of his ears, you don't say anything though, you didn't want to ruin the moment.

to be fair, the only reason the king of curses didn't want to cuddle you ( as you would say ) was because he didn't like the way his face felt warmer when you were this close to him, or the way his heart skips a beat when you're body is flush against his.

one could say that he gets shy around you — no no, he doesn't get shy, that's bullshit, utter nonsense.

“hey, ryo.” you mumble, your eyelids tugging heavily as you start getting sleepy.

“mhm?” he hums, the sound deep from his chest as you feel a low vibration surround you — you smile sleepily, he's purring, and you know that he's content.

“i love you.” you hum sleepily.

and once more, his heart skips a beat, but he can't bring himself to say it back.

“yeah, i know.”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk headcanons #jjk sukuna #jjk x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x fluff #sukuna x reader

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stwrrybwrry · 3 days ago

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I wonder how Sukuna would be once he got married...💭

⊹　︶︶　 𖹭᪲　︶︶　 ⊹

Sukuna! Who was bound by duty rather than desire, found himself in an arranged marriage designed to strengthen the ties between your families. From the very beginning, he saw you as a mere pawn in a game of power, an obligation to endure rather than a partner to cherish. He was already sick of you, he couldn’t wait for the day to toss you aside. Maybe he would spare your life if he felt generous.

Sukuna! Who turned away from your attempts to connect, met each effort with frigid indifference. When you tried to share a meal or engage in conversation, his sharp words cut through the air, leaving you feeling small and unwanted. Each dismissal stung deeply, yet you clung to the hope that warmth lay hidden beneath his bitter exterior. But he couldn’t help but be a bit amused by your behaviour, trying to get along with the king of curse? What a joke you were.

Sukuna! Who lived within the same walls yet created an insurmountable distance between you. As you wandered through the empty halls, loneliness consumed you, the ache for connection growing more profound. You yearned for his presence, longing for intimacy, but he remained an enigma, a fortress of solitude. But deep down, he started to feel something, a tingly warm feeling when he was around you.

Sukuna! Who occasionally let his guard down, revealing brief glimpses of the vulnerability hidden beneath his icy façade. A lingering gaze or a soft sigh hinted at a humanity yearning to break free. In those fleeting moments, you dared to hope that he was capable of love, but just as quickly, they vanished, leaving you with an aching desire for connection and a haunting sense of isolation.

Sukuna! Who rarely showed vulnerability suddenly sprang into action when danger approached, fiercely defending you against outside threats. You witnessed a side of him that contrasted sharply with his usual demeanor, igniting confusion within you. Why did he only reveal this fierce passion when your safety was at stake? Did he care about you or was he just trying to protect his image of the ruthless king?

Sukuna! Who after another heated confrontation, the dam finally breaks. “Am I that embarrassing to you?” you ask, voice trembling with emotion. “Is that why you treat me as I’m invisible? I thought we were meant to be married, but all I feel is your shame.” Tears well in your eyes as you lay bare your feelings, revealing how deeply you crave a connection with him. For a fleeting moment, you see a shift in his expression, the weight of your words striking a chord. “I’m trying to be a good partner to you, but you make it feel like a punishment,” you add softly, your heart aching with each word. But he quickly masks his vulnerability, unable to confront the truth of his own emotions, leaving you feeling more shattered than before.

Sukuna! Who watches as night falls, you quietly pack your belongings, each item a painful reminder of the love you yearned to build. You don’t notice Sukuna standing in the shadows, his heart heavy with regret as he watches you. “Maybe I was wrong to think we could be more than this,” you whisper to yourself, tears spilling down your cheeks, each drop a testament to the hope that faded away. The air is thick with unspoken words, and though he longs to reach out, he remains paralyzed by his own fears. You finish packing, blissfully unaware of the heartache etched across his face. As you walk away, he feels the weight of an irreversible loss settle in, understanding too late that he has let the best thing slip through his fingers, left alone in the suffocating silence of what might have been.

#jjk sukuna #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #jjk headcanons #jjk angst #jjk x reader #jjk #angst #arranged marriage #anime x reader #anime #x reader

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phantasmique · 1 day ago

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Summary: it's moments like these where you can hardly recognize Sukuna as the terror that he is. But you aren't complaining.

Warnings: some mentions of violence but overall, just a bunch of fluff. Short and sweet.

Clingy.

It isn't a term that you ever could have imagined using for Lord Sukuna, but as of late, you've been struggling to apply a different word. Possessive certainly comes to mind. And it's definitely fitting for a man like him.

He doesn't share. He doesn't allow other people to so much as entertain the notion that he'd be willing to let another soul touch you - or any of his other concubines for that matter.

But it wasn't a secret, that for whatever reason, you are his favorite. It was a well-known fact in the estate. A truth that was aware to each and every servant housed among his staff. The details of your relationship with the King of Curses are exchanged quietly amongst the laborers and servants. Spoken in confidential hushes within the cover of darkened hallways and private corridors as they all speculate what you might have done to captivate the attentions of the man - an entity, more like. Hardly human anymore.

So it was odd that a beast as sadistic and self-serving as he would allow himself to be fascinated by someone as lowly as you. Even with your own cursed technique, you were hardly anything to gawk over, especially not by the likes of Ryomen Sukuna, a being that could rip you apart in the blink of an eye.

And yet, he does just the opposite, often demanding that you keep close to him. Always ordered to trail after him, expected to be just as consistent and loyal as a shadow.

You aren't ignorant to the glares that it earns you. Mostly from the other courtesans. Not that you could entirely blame them.

In this world, Sukuna's attention equals protection, and if you were in their positions, to him so entirely focused on another person, would feel like a death sentence.

But their desperation leaves them to try too hard. Coquettishly batting their eyelashes and swinging their hips in the hopes of enticing him. It was all too heavy handed. Their desperation was all obvious, and some of the most skilled amongst the harem are crumbling beneath their attempts to keep him intrigued.

He pays them little mind. Nights are still spent with them yes, a hedonist like him always indulging in the pleasures of flesh and life in any facet he can, but he doesn't request for any of them to trail after him in the way you're commanded to.

They are all free to wonder about the estate unrestrained, but you are to have your movements under constant scrutiny. If on the off chance you aren't at your position at your lord's side, you're accompanied by an escort in some capacity. It doesn't matter if you're safe within the estate grounds, you're to be monitored.

He keeps you guarded. Kept hidden like some sort of relic. Some sort of revered treasure that's been contained and bound down tight for his eyes only.

But you'd be lying if you didn't find some pleasure in it.

There's something empowering about having a man - a monster - as infamous as the King of Curses entranced by you. Even if he vehemently denies such a notion.

A displeased scowl always mars his features whenever the idea of it is implicated. A scoff puffing from his chest as though he's equally amused and offended, but you know that you have him.

His affections aren't sweet or docile. He doesn't care in a way that's light, delicate or embracing. He's all teeth and hunger. An endless chasm of want and greed that latches on like a parasite, sinking his claws into you until they're bone deep, rooted into your marrow to consume you from the inside out. Until there's nothing left.

It would be so easy to trick yourself into believing that he's some sort of old god. A deity of discord and avarice that's been written out of history, smeared from ancient scrolls and bygone texts by the very mortals that were meant to fear and worship him.

But he was human once long before he had become twisted and gnarled by his own corruption. Many see his existence as a blight on the earth. Sorcerers deeming his being as a blight on jujutsu. A disfigurement. A creature. More monster than man.

But to you, his horror only made him even more bewitching. There's a beauty in his violence. It's a temptation that you can't ignore. It draws you too him like a lure. A fly foolishly gliding into a vat of honey, willfully weighing down its own wings in the adhesive glimmer of gold and amber, drowning itself in the rich saccharine pools. A moth fluttering closer and closer to an open fire - not a single ember, not a delicate flame, but a full inferno; a pyre scorching its path across a forest, carving its destructive mark across the earth in licks of blazing, molten heat. And you long to burn.

You'd die a thousand times to gaze upon him.

Fortunately, you don't have to.

He wants you alive. Safe and secure regardless of how indifferent he expresses himself to be. You can see past the slivers in his facade - well, it's not quite a facade. He truly is callous. Apathetic and cold. He's an entity that deals in extremes. That lives to satisfy his own hubris and hunger, but you think that's why you've managed to slip past his rough exterior and nestle a place for yourself near that motionless, dead heart of his.

It was your determination. Your own unyielding pride that would endear you to him, as much frustration and sadistic glee that it had caused him in the beginning. He had delighted in trying to wear you down. Prodding and clawing at you in the hopes of seeing the head that you always held high hang down in defeat.

To snuff out the confidence in you that had been fostered and inherited from the generations of sorcerers that have come before you.

He's yet to succeed, and you think that is what has drawn him to you. Your refusal to roll over and bear your belly merely because he ordered it. It took years for you to yield to him without rebuttal or open annoyance; for him to know that you weren't simply a dog taught to heel, but you think that he takes pride in knowing that you've fallen to his violent allure.

You doubt he realizes how subdued his become with you. Blind to the extent of his own affections - as edged and barbaric as they often are. But every once in a while, he grows lax underneath your hands. Turning malleable and warm like melted wax. The sharp edges that make him shifting and softening just enough for your palms to glide over him.

He's so different from the beast you had met all those years ago, forced to kneel in order to save your throat while scrutinized you from the height of his throne, all arrogance and cruelty.

And now here he is, face cradled in your palms while you both lounge about, shielded from the gentle golden light of the evening sun by the roof of the yuka. Using your lap as a makeshift cushion while he reclines fully on the floor, his long legs stretched out, a pair of his limbs limp on either side of him while the other set are clasped together by their fingers, resting on his sternum.

It's not exactly the image that you would associate with a king. Much less the King of Curses. Yet here he is, all four of his eyes shut while he draws deep, steady breaths into his lungs.

It'd be easy to think that he's asleep, but you know better. Still, it doesn't keep you from allowing your gaze to dart across his face, taking note of his placid, almost peaceful expression, free from its usual scowling or sneering. The shape of his lips no longer pulled back into a taunting smirk, but neutral and almost soft.

It's a state that not many are honored with seeing, and you can't help but to indulge in it now that you have him here.

You nearly feel like a glutton as you sweep your vision over him in a shameless observation. Letting your focus trace over the tattoos that decorate his body. Slashes of black against the pale shade of his skin.

You've always wondered the meaning of them. You know that some sorcerers will get tattoos that represent aspects of their technique; it bonds them closer to their cursed energy and makes it more fluid to wield. But you can't help but to be reminded of the tattoos forced upon criminals. The markings on his arms are suspiciously similar to the same ones you've seen stamped upon the flesh of delinquents - the lowly men and women that you had been warned about by your mother and escorts while within the city. People who had been branded for their crimes as punishment.

The dark bands encircled around his wrists and biceps share somewhat of a similarity to the tattoos given to thieves, though the placement of them is a little off to be considered truly alike.

With how demented he is, you wouldn't be surprised if he intentionally made them look similar as some sort of twisted way of honoring his many crimes.

It has one of your hands lifting, your fingers slipping from the delicate grip they had on his hair to slip along his chest, feeling his muscle rippling beneath your palm as you brush your fingertips along the ink imbedded into his skin.

A low rumble reverberates from the depths of his ribcage, rising somewhere from within his lungs. It seems like a warning almost, one that anyone else would have heeded, but you keep your hand fixed in place, caressing your thumb just beneath his collarbone.

His eyes peal open then, squinting just enough to glare up at you from his place cradled between the plush of your thighs. Searing red, but the irritation reflecting from them is lazy. An echo of the languid way he's positioned himself within your space.

"I don't recall permitting your hands to wander." It comes out like he's berating you, but he makes no effort to correct your apparent error, remaining motionless and relaxed as you continue to card your other hand through his hair, lightly scratching your nails along his scalp.

You don't miss how his lashes flutter when you do it.

It makes a smile long to pull at the corners of your lips, but years of self-restraint and etiquette keep it from showing. Though you're sure that your mirth is revealed in your eyes.

"What's with all the staring?" He complains idly. His brow raising to further pronounce his question.

"I'm simply admiring my lord," you answer. A truth, and yet the playfulness in your voice is clear.

"As you should be."

You'd scoff if the hand on his chest wasn't so close to the mouth on his stomach. You wouldn't be surprised if he decided to snap it between those massive jaws to reprimand you.

You've seen it yawn open to gnash at limbs, massive teeth sinking into flesh to tear and rip, drinking down blood and shattering bones as easily as brittle branches.

It makes you mindful of how close you allow your fingers to drift, not allowing them to slip past the swell of his firm chest and down near the indention that slices across the width of his abdomen. A hint at the starved chasm that lurks behind it, the rows of fangs that wait to bite and eat.

He's used that mouth against you many times, none of them in such a malicious manner, but you still can't help but to be a little wary of it. You swear that it has a mind of its own sometimes, and you'd hate to be on the receiving end of a more violent kind of appetite.

It still can't keep you from your previous musings, and now that you have him focused you can't ignore the questions that are gathering in your mind.

"Your tattoos - are they amplifiers? I've seen a few sorcerers apply them to ground their technique."

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"I would. That's why I asked."

He glares at you then. Eyes narrowing in a way that makes you feel like a target. It nearly forces you to brace for a sudden rush of cursed energy, the instinctual part of you warning that he might lash out as punishment, but nothing comes.

There's no prickle that bite across the air, stinging and sharp before it strikes you down, only a delicate brush of a summer breeze as it glides along your skin.

"Are there no bounds to your insolence? I should kill you for that." He grumbles, baring his teeth as though he means to ward you off.

"I apologize, my king. " It sounds like a bluff, even to you, so you're certain that he isn't convinced. The clipped hum you get in response only confirms that he doesn't. "I was only curious."

"Keep your musings to yourself."

It's said sharply. A clear command for you not to prod at him further. Such an ornery, brash creature. You have to fight off the urge to roll your eyes at his curt behavior lest he chastises you more.

He acts as though it's a chore to be in your presence. As though he wasn't the one who had sought you out during your private time - a brief respite from the harsh nature of his courts and the routine of your daily schedule - to crowd himself within the structure of the gazebo, fitting himself along the wooden floor to rest the weight of his head within your lap.

Despite his apparent annoyance, he still doesn't tell you to cease touching him, and you know that one of the easiest ways of coaxing him back into a calm state is to give him attention. Regardless of how that attention is bestowed. Usually it's fear and dread that feeds into his ego the best, the screams and blood of others fueling that sadistic emptiness in him.

But you'll settle for touch for now.

He doesn't command you to halt your movements as you continue to sweep your hands along his body, messaging his chest and gently scratching along his scalp. If possible, it has him relaxing even further, going boneless on the floor with a heavy sigh, but his eyes don't slip shut this time. His lids fall heavy, nearly closing but staying open just enough to continue observing you through his lashes.

It's a cruel juxtaposition that someone who commits so many hideous atrocities is so beautiful.

The sun has crept a little lower in the sky, drifting downward in its course to reach the horizon and it allows glints of light to pour in past the small roof of the yuka. Traces of it catch in his hair, spilling along the soft shade of his hair, sketching over his features in gold. It puts fire in his eyes, glints of light flickering against rich red.

You can't help yourself this time when you allow the hand you have threaded in his hair to shift further down, sketching your fingertips along the structure of armored skin that rests over the right half of his face.

His eyes open a little wider then, latching onto your form with curiosity, and the hints of something more guarded present in them.

It doesn't stop you though. Perhaps a little foolish of you while it feels as though you're wandering into dangerous territory. A hare darting in front of a wolf's maw. Inviting itself to be bitten.

You feel possessed as you continue to cradle his face in your palm, struck by an emotion that is far too tender and enthralling for a being like him, but you have no desire to resist it.

The almost mask-like structure on his face is hard beneath your fingers, softened only slightly by the layer of calloused skin that's molded over it. The only comparison that you can make is if you were to touch a bit of bone poking out beneath the skin, like the jut of someone's hip or the point of an elbow. Rigid and tough, but also smooth in a way that's organic.

You make sure to be light, to keep your fingers from accidentally slipping close to his eyes and possibly irritating them. Surprisingly, he doesn't order you to remove your hands, allowing you to continue your exploration, letting your fingers sweep over the harsh edges and the divots of the natural armor.

You aren't sure how long you remain that way. Sweeping your hands over him, feeling the soft tufts of his hair on your palm and the rigid texture of his face along your fingers. Time slips away from you like this, and the delicate hiss of the wind threading through the trees and the perfumed scent of blossoms that it carries all fades into the background.

It all seems so unimportant. Useless as he stares up at you with something conflicted in his gaze. As though he's torn between lashing out or sinking further into your warmth.

"You're beautiful." It leaves you so naturally. The ease of it catching even you off guard. It's as though your soul is admitting a truth, one that you've been aware of but never had the courage to speak.

Suddenly you feel so bare. As though you've accidentally shed a meticulous piece of armor from yourself and allowed him to peek past. And the captivated look that you can feel weighing on your features certainly isn't helping.

He's equally as surprised. His eyes widening just the slightest in his shock, but it doesn't take long for him to recover, masking the expression with a scowl. You're certain that it's the exact look that many of his victims have been pinned by just before their death comes, delivered to them in a serrated rush of cursed energy or the lethal cut of his talons. And yet you can't bring yourself to be afraid. Not while he's cradled in the shape of your lap. Lazy and content despite his flaring.

"I'll cut out your tongue if you mean to insult me."

"I wouldn't think of such a thing." You promise. You're being entirely honest. The sincerity in your voice is as alive and burning as a fire. You can hardly place exactly when you've grown fond of him, just when exactly he had managed to bury beneath your skin to make a home for himself within your chest.

It's worrying just how much you've come to care for him. A development that your past self would have denied vehemently; you would have seen it as an ultimate betrayal to yourself, to your lineage and purpose. But you truly can't be bothered to worry about any of that now.

Not while something that nearly looks vulnerable passes through the rich shade of his eyes. A brief, defenseless show of emotion that he's quick to snuff out and hide with that typical brand of cold indifference; so quick that you hardly register it at all.

A hum leaves him them. More of a grumble. As though he's unconvinced of your assurance. But he doesn't bother with a verbal comment, only a sigh as he somehow settles further into your lap.

"Some of them are."

"Hm?"

"Amplifiers." He practically growls it out. Like clarifying is something tedious. A personal affront. He's glaring again. Squinting up at you like you're an annoyance - a gnat buzzing around his ear even while he's all but invited himself into your personal space.

It doesn't take you long to reconnect to your previous line of questioning. You can't help but to be a little surprised that he's bothered to circle back and answer them. Of course he has to do it on his own time. When he feels like doing so, dragging it out for the sake of keeping you from being in control - even in regard to something as simple as a couple harmless questions. Such a bullheaded bastard. Not that you'd tell him that.

A part of you longs to ask him just which ones specifically are amplifiers, which technique they belong to. The concept of such tattoos has always been fascinating to you. You've crossed paths with a fair share of sorcerers who have marked their skin with charged ink, rituals and their cursed energy directed to bind with the dark pigment.

Like a chain used to tether a wayward dog. A binding used to manage energy that's often too potent, too volatile otherwise.

With how practiced Sukuna is now with his abilities, wielding it with ease, bearing it like a second skin, he must have gotten the tattoos when he was still young and learning. Still a little disconnected from the cursed energy projecting from his body, simmering through his veins like the blood of a demigod, but too inexperienced to properly control it.

It makes you wonder what he may have been like way back then. It nearly seems impossible to imagine him as a child, with him being more beast than man. You're just barely able to visualize it, a much younger version of his current self, the sharp contour of his jaw much more rounded and youthful, shaping into chubby cheeks. Plump with stubborn baby fat.

He's probably always had that glare of his. Now it's an expression that induces fear and panic. The lethal hue of red that seems to burn in his eyes turning some of the bravest of sorcerers into pale comparisons of themselves. Back then that fearsome scowl must have been little more than a pout. A petulant furrow between his brows as glared up with wide, peevish eyes.

He must have been a handful for whatever soul had the misfortune of taking care of him, not that he's any easier to please now.

"You've got that stupid expression on your face again. Get rid of it." He snaps, fangs glinting from past his lips. "And did I tell you to cease touching me?"

You hadn't realized that your hands had slipped a little from crown of his head, fingers lifted to hover of his hair. The command doesn't annoy you as it probably should, as it would have in the past, it has a smile perking at your lips instead. Amused and soft. A reflection of the warmth blossoming inside the pit of your chest; a drop of sunlight burning and thriving.

You'd love to point out to him that he was complaining earlier about you doing just that, and now here he is, ordering you to touch him like some kind of spoiled house cat.

You'll keep your comments to yourself for now. All snide remarks and annoyance aside, he seems to be in a fairly good mood today, and you'd hate to ruin it now that you've got him rested in your lap.

Your hands seem to have minds of their own, muscles shifting to thread your fingers back through his hair, scratching your nails along his scalp. You don't miss the minute way his neck twitches, the movement nudging his chin back just the slightest to press his head into the gentle glide of your fingers. Subconsciously seeking out the comfort they provide.

He looks calm. At peace, eyelashes fluttering lightly before they slip shut. He sags down fully. Going lax and almost boneless. The weight of his head in your lap is nearly crushing, but you can't be bothered to voice complaints or to try and shift him into a more comfortable position.

You'll gladly bear the weight of him regardless of how much discomfort it might bring. And in moments like this, with him cradled by your body, relaxed and content from the warmth of your skin and the sun, you think you'd do anything for him. You'd kill for him.

You think you'd die for him too.

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