#Sukuna Collects Skulls

[aheckinmess]

Chapter 1/? of Top Shelf, a bartender Sukuna AU that was inspired by someone on Instagram (@pikkufrog). It started out as my take on bartender Sukuna and has gradually devolved into a fic idea. Since I finished chapter 1, I figured I'd post it.

Read on AO3.

Tags: Ryomen Sukuna, Ryoumen Sukuna, Sukuna x Reader, Sukuna x You, Female Reader, Soft Sukuna, Bartender Sukuna, Bartender AU, Canon Divergence, Might Devolve into Jujutsu Sorcery, Who Can Say?, Reader is Drunk, Shameless Flirting, Alcohol Consumption, Sukuna's House Makes an Appearance, Sukuna Collects Skulls, And Also Books, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Yuji Will Eventually Make an Appearance, Somewhere in This Series, Suggestive Themes, Suggestive Content, Reader Gets Hit On, But Nothing Actually Happens

Word Count: 2,169 words

Summary: After a long, difficult week, you find yourself at your favorite bar, people watching and appreciating the view. The view being Ryomen Sukuna, the local bartender. With a little liquid courage, you find yourself flirting shamelessly until he invites you to his place. What happens afterwards is a bartender and bookstore barista trying to find balance among their chaotic lives.

Chapter 1: A Shot in the Dark

After a long day of work, there’s no better way to wind down than to people watch at the bar. Dulling your mind with a few drinks loosens your muscles and stifles your insecurities. At the end of the counter, your eyes wander over the bartender you see regularly this time of day.

Damn, he’s hot. You sip the rest of your margarita and rest your head in your hand. As your head gets heavier, your gaze lowers from his face to his broad shoulders, roams down, and settles on the curve of his ass. His fingers stretch inside the cup he’s cleaning, his back to you. Do me like that.

“Enjoy the view?” Soft lips tilt up into a smirk as he steps over, leaning across the dark wood. “Didn’t think I’d see you again so soon, darling. Have a rough week?”

Your cheeks darken to match his hair, but you stretch across the counter towards him anyway. 

“It’s been long. Dealing with people is frustrating.” You pout.

He laughs as he finishes cleaning the glass and sets it down. He mutters something that you miss as you get distracted with the tattoos on his chest, peeking out of his button-up. A soft whine whistles through your nose before his finger tilts your chin up to meet his eyes.

“Can I get you anything to drink, (Name)?” 

“An amaretto sour and a shot of tequila.” You lick your lips, acutely aware of how easy it would be for him to wrap his fingers around your neck. Hot! I need to calm myself before I do something I regret. 

You do your best to behave. But it is entirely unfair just how much his clothes strain against his body. The black fabric practically screams with his every move. 

“Here. If you’re going to gawk, you can at least use your words to tell me how good I look.” Sukuna taunts, tapping the counter to regain your attention. You throw back the shot without hesitation as your fingers ring the rim of your drink.

“But I wanna hear you talk.” You admit, holding out your open palm for his. You’re pleasantly surprised when he places his hand in yours and lets you trace the patterns of his tattoos. “Your voice makes me melt.” Oops…where’d that come from?

You can’t say you regret it, because it’s the first time he doesn’t meet your eyes as his cheeks flush bright pink. His hand twitches in yours.

“You’re too cute for your own good.” He pulls his hand back and drums his sharp nails on the countertop. “Here. Let me get their drinks and then we’ll talk.”

Your eyes follow him down the bar until you feel someone sit beside you; a tap on your shoulder pulls your gaze away from Sukuna and onto a red-haired stranger. “Mm?”

“I noticed you were over here looking lonely, pretty thing.” His voice is calm and smooth despite his obvious intoxication. “You wanna get out of here?” He winks.

You shake your head, trying to shove aside the immediate instinct to call back the bartender. I am perfectly capable of handling a drunk on my own. “I’m not really interested, thank you.”

“Ah, understood. Figured I’d shoot my shot, though.” He tips his head and struggles to get to his feet. “You’re drop-dead gorgeous, for what it’s worth.” 

“Thank you. I hope you enjoy your evening.”

While Mr. Red Hair might be a perfect gentleman, his friend mutters something to him before wandering over himself. You deliberately turn towards Sukuna, trying to make it obvious who you’re interested in.

“You’re not interested in my buddy, huh? Can’t blame you. He’s a scrawny fellow. Not a lot to offer.” A gravelly voice speaks over your shoulder.

You ignore it.

Mr. Blonde & Buff doesn’t seem to take the hint.

“You’re not ignoring me, now, are you?” He growls, shoving your shoulder to look at him.

You wobble dangerously in your chair, hand flashing out for the counter when something steadies you from behind. Strong, warm, tattooed arms keep you from sprawling into the floor.

“That’s enough, Riku. Either go back to your table or get the fuck out.” The unspoken or else hangs in the air, dripping from Sukuna’s voice and the way he braces his shoulders, like he’s prepared to kick ass.

And damn, if it isn’t hot.

“Tch. Whatever.” He grumbles several obscenities as he stumbles over to his seat, not even glancing back in your direction.

“Sorry about that. Riku’s…well, an asshole, to put it lightly.” Sukuna sighs, pulling his hands away and gliding around the counter to stand across from you. “Are you alright?” 

“Why’d you let go? You can stay here.” You whine, chasing your straw with your tongue before taking a long drink. It gets warmer as you look up at him, hanging on his every word.

“I wasn’t sure if that might make you uncomfortable. You’d already voiced your disinterest to the other two.” He smirks, resting his chin on his fist. “I don’t make you uncomfortable?”

“No. I told them no, because I like your company better!” Your chair wobbles under the passion of your movements, but somehow you manage to keep from toppling over like an idiot.

“My company, huh? Why’s that?” 

“You’re an asshole, but you’re a respectable asshole.” You yawn, stretching out your back.

He barks out a laugh, causing the head of every drunk to swivel in his direction. Sukuna’s not exactly known for being full of mirth.

“A respectable asshole…” He grins and tucks a strand of your hair back in place. “So, can this respectable asshole ask when you’re free to come by my place?” 

“Can I come by later tonight?” You ask. “I don’t know that I’d be able to make my way home in the dark anyway…but if you’d like I can–”

“Tonight works.” He purrs, face marginally closer to yours. “I don’t get off for another thirty minutes. Think you can wait that long?”

“I’ll wait.” You agree, swallowing thickly. “If you keep getting that close to me, though, I’ll have no choice but to kiss you.”

Is it you, or does he move even closer? The tip of his nose almost meets yours as he looks down at you. The red of his eyes glistens under the dim bar light, pulling breath after shuddering breath from you. Your eyes flicker to his lips.

“You’re quite bold after a few drinks, aren’t you?” He chuckles.

“Not bold, just a warning of what you’re in for if you keep looking at me like that.” You murmur, aching to claim his lips and wipe that smirk off his face.

But you don’t. You wait for thirty minutes like a good girl, in and out of focus as you watch him clean up and get ready to leave. He disappears behind the employee door and comes out soon after.

“Ready, love?” He extends his arm while swinging his keys around his finger.

You get up from your chair, but forget about the step down from the counter. You fall straight into a pair of muscular arms as he catches you. You’re certainly not complaining.

“Watch your step.” He snorts. “As often as I’ve seen you in here, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you like this.”

“I needed to feel numb.” You explain, leaning your head against his chest as his arm comes around your waist. 

He guides you out of the bar, leading you to a car. Your stomach turns as it copes with the alcohol in its system. I could use some carbs.

“You got any french fries?” You ask, swinging his arm between the two of you. 

“That’s right, you didn’t eat much tonight. We’ll grab some on the way to my place.” His fingers comb through your hair. “Anything else you want?” “You.” It slips out before you can help it. 

“That can certainly be arranged.” He whispers in your ear, thumb grazing your side. But he pulls back and loosens his grip on you. “But it’ll have to be when you’re sober enough to remember it.” 

If he was sexy before, he becomes a hundred times sexier to you with that admission alone. He helps you into his car and starts the trek to the nearest fast food chain and orders some fries. When you offer your money, he rolls his eyes and hands the cashier his card.

“If you won’t let me pay, at least take my money.” You shove it back at him.

“You pay me money all the time to make you drinks. Allow me to return the favor.” He swats the money away. “Put that back.”

“But I don’t make you drinks!” “No, but you’ve made me very amused this evening.” 

You both get your order and when he tells you to dig in, you stuff your face full of fries. Your head lulls against the leather seat with your eyes closed in ecstasy. Truly, carbs are the superior food group.

By the time he opens your door at his house, you’ve inhaled a full serving of fries and gulped half of your water. He takes the food and you follow him inside.

Dark red walls greet you in the living room, with lavish furniture that matches his personality. A dark brown leather sofa sits adjacent to a matching recliner, and a coat rack with a cow skull on top stands in the foyer.

He catches your appraising eyes and smiles.

“I have a bit of an obsession with animal skulls.” He nods to the mantle decorated with skulls of more variety. “They’re interesting to me. But I keep my library down this hall. You enjoy reading, don’t you?”

“Mhmm!” 

He takes your hand and leads you into a room filled top to bottom with colorfully illustrated spines. His shelves all match and he’s got them organized neatly with added trinkets here and there for decoration. You vaguely remember telling him last week about your new favorite manga when he steps over to his large collection with you.

“As you can see…there’s your favorite.” He gestures to an entire row of the Hotel of Villains series. You instantly finger the 4th book, pulling it out and gaping at the cover. “I’ll warn you, once you get to the 8th volume, things start picking up. You won’t want to put it down.”

You’re too enthralled with the cover in front of you before you sling your arms around his waist, voice muffled as your face gets squished into his chest.

“Thank you.” You whimper, tears draining from your eyes. You tend to get a little more emotional when drunk. “I’ve been waiting so long to read the rest…and my favorite character is trapped so I’ve been so worried.”

“Heh. Dasuko is your favorite?” Sukuna smiles crookedly.

“I know he’s the big bad villain but he’s such a respectable one!” You whine, turning away self-consciously. In the world of fandom, you’ve learned there’s no telling how anyone will react to your favorite characters.

“Mm, I guess respectable assholes are your type, huh?”

You hide behind your hair, trying to get your sludgy brain to decipher whether he’s just teasing or being serious.

“Hey, hey,” He tilts your chin up at him. There’s a growing smile on his face. “I’m not shaming you. I think it’s cute that someone so soft would fall for someone so…feral.” His eyes shine under the glow of the light. “He’s one of my favorites too.”

You smile up at him before his hand rubbing your back reminds you that he’s still wrapped in your embrace. You set the book back, before you sway into his chest. Your fingers search out his exposed skin and you paw at him.

“Do you mind if I stay?” You purr sweetly.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow and takes your hands in his.

“You may stay for a place to sleep. But I will not take advantage of you. Any woman would choose me with a hazy mind. Only women who understand my worth and power would choose me while sober.” He croons.

You’re of a stubborn disposition, though, and feeling a bit whiny as your mind fogs. You slide to your knees and look up at him in hopes to change his mind. 

“(Name).” He speaks, voice thicker but still resolute. “No.”

You huff, but try on a compromise.

“Fine. But…can I at least have a kiss?” You ask, forcing yourself back up into a standing position, giving yourself an indulgent look at his mouth. I’ve been dying to kiss you all night…all week! Please say yes.

“Mm,” His gaze flickers to your lips and back to your face. “One little peck, and then off to bed with you.”

It’s short and brief, but those soft lips tap yours as he bends down to kiss you. He pulls back almost as soon as he’s started, and you whimper when he does.

“Come. Let’s put you in bed.”

Part 2 coming soon!

[jennifer-jeong]

Smut | AFAB!Reader Men Who Get Feral With You

CONTENT NSFW, 18+, smut, AFAB reader, implied feminine reader, fictional men being fucking nasty with you, hard kinks, multiple orgasm, fingering, choking, spitting, slapping, breast play, biting, marking, blood, praise, degredation, daddy kink, creampie, aftercare!, CHARACTERS ARE 18+

FUSHIGURO TOJI, RYOMEN SUKUNA, MIGUEL O’HARA, WRIOTHESLEY, Childe

WORD COUNT: 747

He’ll squish your face with his hands to make you look him dead in the eyes as he uses 3 fingers to pull another orgasm out of your aching cunt that’s still waiting to be filled up properly.

“Yeah, c’mon baby, you can handle it… Just like that princess,” he’ll say as you convulse on him as waves of pleasure wash over you.

He’ll bottom out in you immediately, barely giving you time to adjust to his size. You’re especially tight from your orgasm only seconds ago but he loves the squeeze and the fact that you’re absolutely dripping with your own release. He slides in easily despite the extra resistance.

He also gives you no warning before immediately starting off at an insane pace. The rough sound of skin slapping already filling the room.

“Mmmf-fuckkk, have I not fucked you properly recently? Y’pussy's fucking squeezing me,” he says while knowing you can barely respond from how fucked out you already are. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure your body remembers me tonight.”

He pushes your legs up and folds you in half as he continues his relentless pace, bruising your cervix as he hits you so deep he can’t even bottom out. He’s too big for you but you take him so well anyways.

He’s so fucking filthy with you. He’ll lean back to stop breaking you in half just so he can choke you with both hands. It’s overkill but you love the light headed feeling you get. Your vision blurs as your tongue lolls out slightly. Your heartbeat is in your ears as the sinful sound of skin slapping starts to dampen, your eyes rolling back into your skull.

He fucking loves seeing you so cock drunk for him as he chokes you. Drool starts dripping down the side of your mouth as he rams into you hard, abusing your sore cunt.

When he releases you, you let out a deep groan as the blood flows back into your delirious mind. Your senses hit you like a truck and the bruising grip he has on your hips turns into pleasure.

“Yeahh, fucking take it sweetheart, I know you can,” he groans. “Be a good girl and open up.”

You open your mouth wide to accept the string of saliva he drops into it. Your eyes are lidded as you swallow it.

“T-thank- Ah! Hngg… Thank you d-daddy,” you whimper.

“Good fucking girl, such a good slut f’me.”

He’ll grip your tits hard and give them slaps from time to time as he uses you as his personal fleshlight, not that you mind.

When he gets close he’ll start marking you like he’s in fucking heat. Biting the sensitive part on your neck, sucking at your skin until it bruises. Sometimes he even breaks skin, lapping up the metallic blood that seeps out.

He always likes to make sure you cum with him though. He’ll aim for your spongey spot as he rubs rough circles into your clit.

“Mmph! D-daddy- feels s’good… m’gonna fucking cumm.”

“Yeah? You deserve it baby. Let go.”

You clamp down hard on him, your orgasm finally fully hitting you as he stuffs you full. You throw your head back in a silent moan before high pitched sobs fill the room. You’re barely even registering his words or how bruisingly he’s fucking you at this point. He’s helping you ride your high but it feels like you’re barely coming down, the waves of pleasure keep coming.

“S-shit- c-cumming” he says before bottoming out, his cock twitching as he fills you with his hot cum. He rocks back and fourth as he fucks it all into you.

Your body is shaking and your legs clamp on the sides of his body, wanting to close from the overstimulation. He leans forward to kiss your neck as you both catch your breaths.

When he eventually pulls out, he’ll collect the cum flowing out of you and stuff it back into your weeping hole, not wanting to waste any of it.

He always treats you so gently afterwards though. He’ll run you a bath, give you a nice massage, make sure you use the washroom, and make you some tea.

He gets so feral for you that you wonder if he’s really the same person with how sweet he is with you during aftercare. But, you both know that you just bring out that side of him, he can’t help it when it comes to you.

|| MASTERLIST ♡ || Thank you for reading! ||

[retiredteabag]

An uninformed narrative

Pt. 1 - Pt. 2

Synopsis: You had lived in Stardew Valley for a year before you met the hunter from the adventures guild, Sukuna Itadori. It did not take long for him to catch your attention but you couldn't help feeling as if his affection resided anywhere but you.

Pairing: Sukuna x reader

This is a Sukuna stardew valley au, heavily inspired by @tearzintheclub's similar series with butcher!sukuna, I highly recommend reading their work, they are super kind and were a big motivation for me to make this!

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

Damn it...damn it...damn-

After all the work you had put into your farm, into your skill set, into your friendships, the Dunning-Kruger effect had bitten you where it hurt. And you couldn't help but feel it was all your fault.

The pit in your stomach was sinking. How could you have let this happen? You had been so careful, you had even worn the armor you recently acquired from the guild. Was all this effort for nothing?

There were many thoughts swirling in your head as you frantically attempted to fend off the ghosts attacking you. You were encircled. Yes, the number was weening but so was your health, you knew you didn't have long. And the strongest feeling brewing in your heart was the shame that you had overestimating yourself.

The sword in your hand shook and your knees throbbed as you fell to the stone floor deep within the mines. Your vision was fading and even as you knew there was nothing left for you to win, you swung at the ghost coming your way, missing in your haste, and slump to the ground. Unmoving.

At least nobody would find you here...see you like this.....

-- several hours prior --

Life continued on as usual after joining the adventurers guild. The Stardew Valley Fair had just passed and after collecting your most prized items, you had won. Your heart had been full that night, not for your accomplishments, but for how loved you felt after a day of festivities with your friends.

You had sat and eaten with Penny and Leah, discussing life in the valley. You and Leah both had come to the Valley after living the city life but Penny had been born in Stardew, and that evening she had confessed her hope to one day travel away from town. The three of you decided that one day, you would adventure together.

Penny had cried.

Your heart was warm, watching Yuuji, Jas, and Vincent play in the apple-bobbing bucket and participate in slingshot games. Yuuji bounced up and down when he spotted you and his teacher, begging the two of you to come and play with them.

Life had felt whole.

Despite the labor that went into caring for your crops and animals, you had never felt so fulfilled.

Having just cracked level 50 in the mines that weekend, you grew excited when a day would come when you would have the chance to explore more of the depths.

It was not simply for personal gain, either. Though it was nice to have useful ore and pretty gemstones, you couldn't help but love feeling useful to your friends in town. Hunting the monsters below the surface was never too much work when it meant seeing their grateful faces.

Not too long after the town fair the forecast called for rain. Those days were designated for the awaiting mineshaft as you had little to do around the farm.

Back then, you had never thought it would cause this.

--

Night had fallen when you were found. It was dark, and relentlessly pouring rain, you could hear its aggressive pitter-patter on the ceiling of the cave.

You squeezed your eyes and tried to move but your body cried out against the stretch. You drew your hands down to the earth you were strewn upon. Your fingers traced the dirt below you.

Dirt?

Your eyes shot open. Heart beating as if you had never lost consciousness. Your vision and skull were pulsing painfully with the beats of your heart. You flung your head around dramatically.

You were within the face of the cave, you could just make out the Mountain Lake through the rain...

Your palm finds your forehead, and some kind of inhuman noise escapes you. Your brain was just starting to question how you moved up 55 levels when you opened your eyes again and saw him.

A man is squatting by your side, he looks... furious... to say the least.

Not expecting to see anything but a ghost in the case of your survival, you gasp. Shifting away from his all-too-close glower.

"Stay still you moron." He's gripping your shoulder with a hand, pulling you closer, you hadn't seen or felt it before, but he's got his other hand on your shin.

"Wha-what- how-who- I just-" Nicely said. Very eloquent.

He seems to scowl even more, despite not thinking it possible.

"Are you out of your mind?" His eyes glow red in the dark of the cavern. Though he has brought himself close to the ground in examining you, he is still a looming presence. "How can a damn farmer not have any food on them?"

"I just- I was" It was then that you realize who the man before you is. You had met him this past week, in the adventurers guild. The embarrassment you felt increased ten fold. "I had some...but-"

"What? You used it all and didn't think to head back? Are you trying to get yourself killed?" He released his grip on your left calf and a fiery pain shoots up your leg. You gasp.

"No-!" You shake with the feeling.

"Sure looks like you are." The man shoulders his backpack to his front and starts searching for something.

Gratitude is the last thing on your mind. You're already ashamed enough but this man... this Sukuna was it? He was being unnecessarily rude.

He finally brings out a wad of cheese wrapped in parchment, and hands it to you.

"Eat. Your runnin' on fumes right now."

You huff but don't try to hide your desperation. Accepting the cheese and scarfing it down. Once it's settled in your stomach you feel much more alive. The pain in your calf is still very real but at least you have enough energy to make it home.

You push down at the ground, attempting to lift yourself but the weight on your leg causes a dramatic whimper to escape your throat. The pain was blinding. You'd have to see Harvey about this...

"What are ya doing?!" The tattooed man shoves your shoulders once more to keep you from rising.

"I'm trying- I need to get back..." You shake off his grip.

He laughs at you. But there's no smile on his face. It's cruel. "You really must be an idiot." Your brows furrow. "You aint walkin' on that leg." He points, and when you make no reply, he tugs up at the hem of your pants.

It's strange. He is the biggest, burliest man you've ever encountered, to countryman or city man alike, he is... quite large. He has a rough voice too, and a brutal look. Yet the touch he leaves on your ankle as he relives its weight, sliding the pantleg up, is as clement as a kitten.

This gentle juxtaposition throws you and it takes a moment for you to realize his intention to show you the blackened bruise that covers your left leg, ankle to shin. All air leaves you.

"You were fully out by the time I got down there. You're lucky most beasts here aint hungry for human flesh." He tucks your pant leg into your sock, softly settling your leg onto the ground once more.

You stare at his bent form. "Well...I'm- Thank you, you didn't have to get me, but I appreciate it." He's making an incredulous face, insulted. "And-" You speak up, "for the cheese as well, I feel much better."

He scoffs- "Oh, I didn't have to? And I suppose I'm to just leave ya to die? Gimmie a break."

He's stood to his full height just then, as he makes his way to peer out of the cave entrance you roll your eyes. Mentally retracting your thanks.

"Picked a great day to be here. Real nice choice of weather." He's taking off his backpack, then his jacket.

"Well..." You huff, "I guess you can come down here whenever you please but I'm busy with the farm when it's not raining, so actually today was ideal weather." You cross your arms, annoyed. Then work yourself up to try and stand once more.

"Oh yea?" He shuffles in his bag again, "Well I'd imagine if you were so busy with farm work you wouldn't come down here without some food to sustain your travel." He looks at your wobbling form now, and hisses between his teeth, dropping his bag.

"What the hell is wrong with you??!" His voice is frightening, and your eyes shake as you watch him stomp your way. "Couldn't wait one second, huh?"

"I need to get home, it's almost midnight..." You were starting to get fed up with his attitude. He's rolling his eyes and scoffing as if you've done something wrong.

But then he does something strange. He's grunts, squatting right beside you, but he's turned now, his broad back in your face.

"What... are you doing?" You squint at him.

"Thought you needed to get home." He turns to look at you, "Are you suddenly getting patient now?"

"What? No! I can do it myself!" As you say it you become more sure of yourself. There is no way you are letting this pompous prick carry you all the way to the farmhouse.

This time he sounds as if his laugh might be a bit more genuine. "Don't-make-me-laugh." His voice is mean and he turns to face you. "You're dumber than I thought if you're gonna try and walk home on that," he points to your leg, "in this." He directs his finger to the cave entrance, illuding to the downpour outside.

You grit your teeth. Almost wanting to swing at him. "Fine. Carry me then. Since I'm clearly incapable." Some part of your presumes he'll leave you here to fend for yourself. But he just frowns.

Disbelief covers his brows. "S'what I was trying to do from the start." His voice is low, and he turns once more, one arm pulls your own over his right shoulder, the other cradles your wounded leg.

"I'm gonna pull. Don't hoist yourself."

It's annoying. How prominent his lats and lower traps are. He lifts you, his right hand locked on your forearm, holding it to his chest. Now that he has risen, he uses his other arm to swing your left leg across his hip, allowing you to find a comfortable position as his new backpack.

There was a strain in your body as he had lifted you, but still, you're shocked by how effortless he made it look.

Too afraid to make a noise for fear of something stupid like "wow" coming out, you hold tight in silence as he bends down to grab his jacket. As he swings it across your form, the zipper hits your temple.

"Ow!" You grumble in his ear and he chuckles.

Bastard.

He bends once more to grab his bag and with it in hand, starts off through the mountains.

You never asked for his jacket. And you wouldn't have either. But you do feel a little bad that he is getting soaked while your clothes remain almost perfectly dry.

You swing your elbow onto his shoulder and bring your hand to the top of his head to block the rain.

"Enough of that." He swats away your hovering hand, "M' not made of sugar."

"Could've fooled me." You mumble

He reaches up to you with an open hand, finds your head with precision, and promptly flicks your skull with a firm finger.

"Ow!" You whine, tearing his hand from your forehead and tugging his ear like a grandma.

It's silent for a while as he treks past the carpenter's house, and into the path behind the bus station. "I'm just down here." You point. Trying to avoid the awkward silence.

"I know where the farm is." He motions your hand away once more.

Okay. You grit your teeth. Why can he not just be friendly like everyone else in this town?

When you begin to see the lights of your house, your heart starts to pulse. Are you supposed to invite him in? Is he going to lay you in bed? Your mind spins.

Before stomping up your porch steps, he grabs a large stick that your dog undoubtably has been carrying around and leans it against your door. "You good to be dropped off here? Or d'ya need me to tuck you in too?"

Little. Brat.

"I think I'll fair just fine like this." You force out. An attempt at cordiality.

"Alright then." He reaches around, gripping the small of your back, and gently lowers you to a stack of logs you keep for winter. Not allowing you to swing down and fall.

A small part of you wants to thank him. Was he an annoying git? Yes. But he didn't need to go to all the trouble to carry you home. Even so, his irritating remarks still float in your recent memory, so instead of a 'thank you', you say,

"The town is that way!" Pointing to the path he had walked past. His back had turned from you and continued south.

He turns around only for a moment.

"I'm well aware. I've lived here a'lot longer than you." He turns once more, making his way down to the forest.

"That's the way to the CIdersap Forest though?" You shout after him over the roars of the wind.

"Really?" He yells over the storm, not turning back, but moving slowly, "Didn't know."

"Well...." You lean on the stick he brought you to stand, "Where are you headed, it's nearly morning!"

The man turns one last time a grimace on his face. "I live in the Cidersap Forest."

His words permeated your brain now that he's gone from your vision. How could that be? That's where Marnie, Leah, and Jin lived. Could it be that there was a place you hadn't encountered in your year at the Village? Maybe so, seeing as you had only met the Hunter this past week.

The events of the night weighed on your shoulders as you limped into your house, gently closing the door. Your dog was wagging its tail, laying in bed, waiting for you.

It wasn't until you were about to flop on your bed that you realized: he had left you his jacket.

[bungalowbear]

Heart-Shaped Box

Pairing: Sukuna x f!witch!reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Sukuna has been locked away for centuries. He’s convinced you are the witch who can free him.

Warnings: piv sex, reader drugs men with wine, murder (reader kills someone), brief choking, blood, slight noncon, masturbation

A/N: This has been in the drafts for about a year. This was inspired by the film “The Love Witch” and by Nirvana’s “Heart-Shaped Box”. I hope you enjoy!

Playlist

The antique shop opens for business on another cold February morning. Pendants, tomes, and other ornately shaped vessels line the shelves. Nestled among them is a heart-shaped box, crafted by expert hands out of the finest wood and blessed by a collective of holy men, with the malevolent spirit known as Sukuna sealed inside.

Since his entrapment nearly a millennia ago he’s sat dormant. As the box changes hands and drifts from one location to the next, Sukuna watches and waits for someone powerful and worthy enough to free him from his prison.

His patience is rewarded when the bell tinkles above the door and the atmosphere of the shop shifts. Four red eyes latch onto your form and follow your leisurely movements as you browse through the aisles of cursed objects. At least that’s how the old hag who owns this place advertises them. Nearly all of the items here are mere trinkets with not a single ounce of malice in their fibers. There are a few actual cursed objects, a ring and a handful of paintings, but none of them hold a candle to Sukuna.

You come closer, eyes glossing over the other contents on the shelf where Sukuna sits. Your curiosity is visibly piqued when your gaze lands on the heart shaped box. You brush your fingertips over the lid, picking up a thin layer of dust from the dark wood. A shiver runs down Sukuna’s spine. With a maniacal grin, his pearly white teeth are on display. 

There’s no doubt about it. You’re the one he’s been waiting for.

Dangling from your finger tips is the brown paper bag Sukuna travels inside of to your home. Your studio apartment is cozy with dark wood floors, a sturdy old bookshelf in the far corner, and the earthy aroma of herbs and oils wafting from the kitchen.

When you enter, a black cat rubs itself against your leg to welcome you back. It purrs when you lean down and scratch under its chin.

Taking the box out of the paper bag, you set it down on your bedside table. You procure a cloth then take a seat on the edge of the bed. You bring the box into your lap and begin wiping away the lingering dust and rubbing out any minor blemishes. The cat leaps onto the mattress beside you, stretching out its neck to sniff at the air around the box. Sukuna scowls and, as if it can sense his hostility, the feline hisses before scurrying away and climbing onto its tower by the window.

You laugh as you place the box down, standing from the bed and opening up the windows to let in the late morning air. You do some general tidying around your living space, dusting the shelves and fluffing up the cushions on the small couch, before you settle in the kitchen. 

You take out several bowls and jars filled with dried herbs. Sukuna studies each of your movements closely as you lightly toast some and boil others. You bring out other ingredients. Fruits, varieties of infused water, and several vials of…blood. 

Sukuna hums appreciatively, having found himself a witch.

Within the heart-shaped box, Sukuna sits upon his throne atop a mountain of skulls with one legs casually crossed over the other and his fist resting against his cheek. His expression is the perfect picture of neutrality, but his eyes are pools of red irritation.

Of all the witches out there you had to be a love witch.

The rhythmic creaking of the bed is like knives to his skull. This is the fourth man you’ve brought back to your apartment this week. Sukuna can’t establish a pattern other than them all being undeniably pathetic in their own way.

The man currently above you huffs and moans as he unskillfully penetrates you. Your arms are laid out beside you and your gaze is fixed upward, silent and scrutinizing.

You’re obviously receiving no pleasure from this encounter. So far only one other man that you’ve brought back pulled an expression other than boredom from you. He must have hit a particular spot inside you, by accident Sukuna was sure, that made your eyes shine with expectation only for you to be let down when it didn’t happen again.

Before you bed these men you give them a glass of mulled wine you brewed yourself. Sukuna isn’t sure what the desired effect of the wine is supposed to be, but he thinks if this is the best you can do then maybe he was wrong about you.

But just when he’s about to mentally check out, Sukuna notices a change in your bedfellow. He begins to thrust harder and your brows pinch together. Your body tenses and pain flashes across your face. Your hands move to his chest as you tell him to slow down, but he doesn’t listen. His eyes are crazed, pupils blown wide with unhinged lust. You try to push him off you but he swats your hands away and locks his own larger ones around your throat.

You attempt to pry him off but his grip only grows tighter. Slowly, your face begins to swell. Your mouth opens and closes with the effort to take in air without success. Your body arches upward in a final effort to push him off you, but the man doesn’t budge.

Sukuna leans forward, intrigued to see how this will end. His lips curl devilishly as he watches your hand slip beneath the pillow. The gleam of sharpened steel catches his eye and Sukuna wonders if you actually have what it takes.

His answer comes only a few moments later when the man’s hips abruptly stop, spluttering and choking on his own blood gushing from where you plunge the knife in his throat. You gasp in relief when your neck is finally released. Sharply withdrawing the knife, your face is sprayed with blood before before your victim collapses beside you.

Disappointment draws your features downward as you rise from the bed. Not with your victim, but with yourself. Not knowing where you went wrong.

Sukuna has a sneaking suspicion this isn’t the first time you’ve taken a life. After all, you don’t seem shaken as you stand over the man and watch him slowly succumb to his death.

After the incident, as you call it when talking to a friend on the phone, you decide to go away for a few days. A day later, Utahime comes to check on the apartment and the cat.

She lets herself in with a spare key, putting your mail on the table and starts tidying. She waters your plants and opens the window to air out the room. As she’s dusting, she approaches your bedside table where the heart-shaped box sits. She picks it up and Sukuna frowns at the feel of her hands. Irritation singes along his form. Where your presence is shrouded in darkness, Utahime’s is the opposite. A layer of light outlines her form. She isn’t any kind of witch, but she does possess powers to connect to the supernatural. Sukuna guesses miko.

Utahime inspects the box with a keen sense of scrutiny, mumbling to herself about what trouble you’ve made for yourself this time. She tries removing the lid but it doesn’t budge. 

The cat suddenly appears beside her on the bed, causing Utahime to startle and drop the box on the floor. She picks it up and places it back on the table, not noticing the splintered edge, before going to feed the cat.

You return three days later. Your life goes on without further interruption, as if the incident never occurred. The only change Sukuna notices is that you go out with your friends more frequently. You stumble your way back home tipsy and giggling, but you’ve yet to bring along another one of your guinea pigs. 

Tonight you return more intoxicated than usual. As soon as you shut the door behind you, you throw yourself on your bed and shove a hand between your thighs and plunge two fingers inside your wet hole. Your breathing is heavy, chest rising and falling with every wanton sigh escaping through your parted lips. But frustration soon follows when your fingers aren’t enough. 

Sukuna watches you struggle. You can’t seem to find a good angle, and the pout of your lips makes his dick twitch when a single tear leaks from the corner of your eye. 

Through the damaged edge of the box, Sukuna decides to perform his own experiment and send a sliver of his essence toward you. It works. He watches the wispy red tendrils of his aura float toward your form on the bed.

“Look at you,” he whispers in your ear. Your breath hitches and your fingers freeze inside you. “Does the little witch want to feel good?”

You nod.

“Keep going,” Sukuna commands roughly.

Your fingers resume their movements and Sukuna travels further down your body. He urges you on, whispering filthy things in your ear, and you respond with a pleased moan. The wisps of himself hover above the skin of your hand, guiding your movements. He helps you reach deeper, warms your pussy with the breath of his flames, and gives you what you want.

With a cry you reach your climax. Limp on the bed, trembling and out of breath, your look over to the box on the table.

“It’s good to finally hear your voice,” you say.

You lay on your side with your head propped up in your hand, the black cat perched atop the curve of your hip. The box sits in front of you on the bed.

“How did you get in there?” you ask, poking the lid three times with your index finger.

“A sorceress trapped me,” Sukuna replies dully.

“Why?”

“She was in love with me, but I didn’t return her feelings.”

“Love can make you do crazy things.”

“You would know, wouldn’t you?” Sukuna’s tone betrays his boredom. “Poisoning all those men. Killing the last one.”

“It’s only happened a handful of times where I was off on the dosage.” you say flippantly, shrugging. “They’re overcome with desire and sexual energy that it turns the human part of their brain off. That’s the trouble really. Heightening those intense animalistic tendencies, but keeping the higher brain functions intact.”

“Sounds bothersome.”

“Truly,” you agree. “Figuring out how to free you was so much easier.”

Sukuna frowns. “What?”

“What?” you parrot.

“What did you just say?”

“It was easier to figure out how to release you. I noticed the love spell as soon as I saw your box in the shop.”

Sukuna’s voice drips with barely contained anger. “You’ve known how to free me all this time?”

“Of course.” You place a hand to your chest, lifting your chin haughtily. “It’s not that hard for a witch of my caliber.”

“You think too highly of yourself,” Sukuna snarks. “You can’t even turn any of these pathetic mortal men into your perfect mate.”

“Well humans are a bit trickier than wooden boxes.”

Sukuna scoffs. “Sure.”

“You should be nicer to me. Otherwise I won’t feel the need to set you free.”

“Listen here, brat—”

“Did she seal you away just because you didn’t return her feelings, or are you actually incapable of loving someone?”

“I don’t see why that matters.”

“Well, it would explain why you couldn’t figure out what kind of spell is on the box.” You run a gentle hand along the back of the cat’s back. Its yellow eyes don’t look away from the box, irritating Sukuna further. “It’s pretty genius actually. Trapping you with the one thing you’re incapable of truly understanding.”

“Since you’re so well versed in all things love,” Sukuna’s voice drops to a rumble, a sultry tone that seeks to entice you, “why don’t you prove how good you really are and free me?”

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Your attitude is chipping away at the last of Sukuna’s resolve. The fact that even on top of his mountain of death he has to look up at you from inside this box doesn’t help any.

“I will give you one more chance to change your answer.” Sukuna speaks slowly, each word laced with a promise of retribution should you give him an unsatisfactory answer. “Consider yourself lucky. I don’t usually make exceptions.”

You ignore him and lean forward. You run your finger along the edge of the box’s lid.

“Can you feel this?” you ask.

“Yes.”

You press your palm on top of the box, sinking it into the mattress under your weight. “How about that?”

“Yes,” Sukuna snaps as his head throbs. “Now quit it. And do as I say, witch.”

Once again ignoring his threat, your turn your head away. “I think it’s time for dinner.”

You stand from the bed, calling your cat’s name. It bounds forward, pressing its paws on top of the box and pushing off to follow you into the kitchen. 

Sukuna grumbles, cursing you under his breath.

Your short stint at abstinence is broken a week later. Another lackluster man attempting to sexually satisfy you while you lay beneath him and wait for it to be over.

Sukuna doesn’t know how much more of this he can stand. You show no signs of wanting to free him, and now you’re back on the prowl. Sukuna knows he has to give you a taste of his power, entice you to him. And so he gets a wicked idea.

He’d been able to send wisps of himself through the crack in the box before. Now, he’ll try to take it one step further.

Red wisps float from the box and toward your companion’s mouth, wide and gaping as he huffs with exertion. Your eyes can’t hide their shock when the man’s body starts changing. Sukuna feels the way the mortal’s body shifts and expands to accommodate the effect of his power. The cock inside you grows bigger both in length and girth. The skin on his face tickles as tattoos appear on his cheeks and forehead, the sensation travels down as inky black markings materialize on the rest of his body.

Sukuna leans down to whisper in your ear. 

“Perhaps this will motivate you.”

Your lips part, a question forming on your tongue, but Sukuna starts pounding into you. Your moans of pleasure fill the room as he watches the realization that he is what you’ve wanted all along light up your expression. Something stirs in him at the sight of you this way. It spurs him on, seeking more of your pretty sounds. He works you over with deep strokes and a skillful thumb over your clit until you cry out in ecstasy.

You bring your hand up to his face, marveled at what you’ve just experienced. 

“Fascinating.”

Sukuna exits the man’s body with a proud and arrogant huff and settles back into the box.

Your kitchen counter is lined with bowls empty of the ingredients they once held. After carefully measuring fresh blood, two feathers of a dove, tart cherry juice, and a few other more special ingredients, you finally have the exact mixture to break the spell on Sukuna’s box.

Sukuna had watched you as you prepared the mixture and now he’s in your hands, literally, as you hold the box above the cauldron. You give no warning before you plunge him into the ruby red liquid. You recite an incantation, but the words are muffled to his ears. Sukuna sits on his throne as the blood pooled beneath him begins to rise. It rises and rise until he’s craning his neck to gather one more deep breath before he’s completely submerged. He stays completely still, even as the blood around him grows hot. Hotter and hotter by the second until it feels like he’s being cooked alive, boiled and softened. But then there’s a hiss and a creak. A ray of light shines from above and his eyes search for the source.

You.

The lid to the heart-shaped box slowly opens and your face fills the space above him. You smile, accomplished and eager, and extend your hand down to him. Sukuna’s heart races. It beats wildly with the anticipation of stepping out into the world for the first time in one thousand years. He’s ready to finally continue his conquest of the humans.

Sukuna reaches up and takes your hand. 

He’ll start with you.

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[starrierknight]

𝟎𝟎𝟐. 𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

"O, what a rogue and peasant slave am I!" — William Shakespeare, via Hamlet Act 2, Scene 2

MASTERLIST | KINKTOBER 23' | AO3

wc— 7k

pairing— cruel!dom!gn!reader x true form!sub!sukuna

cws/tags— painplay, cbt (ball busting), doubled dicked sukuna, S&M, dumbification, humiliation, subspace, heavy degradation, size kink, voice kink, mutual masturbation, reader is AFAB, handjob, edging, overstimulation, dacryphilia, petnames: for reader “fool” & “brat” + for sukuna “slut” & “loser” & “freak” & “sicko”, porn w/ crack fic plot

Sukuna’s domain was far from inviting, a stark contrast to anything one might deem ‘homey’.

As you surveyed the colossal cavern, its vastness resembling that of a grand cathedral, the support structure caught your eye—towering bone columns replaced the conventional pillars. The entire space, from the ground up to the ceiling, was a macabre creation of bones. The ceiling itself resembled a grotesquely cracked ribcage, a grim reminder of its origins. While some bones were discernibly human, others appeared to belong to unknown and enigmatic creatures, transcending the boundaries of what you had ever witnessed before. The bizarre collection of bones lent an exceptionally eerie ambience, heightened by a peculiar, reddish glow emanating from an indiscernible light source. 

At the heart of this bone-laden spectacle stood a towering monument, a colossal mound of bones sculpted into a surreal structure. Ascending the mound was a staircase fashioned from bones, leading to a throne unlike any other—an imposing seat, constructed entirely from an assembly of human remains, awaited at the pinnacle.

Perched upon that ominous throne was Sukuna, the embodiment of malevolence—the King of Curses—displaying his intimidating presence in all its grim grandeur. Even from your vantage point, peering up at him from a considerable distance, he appeared colossal. His physique was a testament to sheer power and artistry, meticulously sculpted and adorned with bulging muscles that defied belief. Four massive, sinewy arms extended from his formidable frame, possessing an awe-inspiring strength capable of pulverising titanium into mere dust with a mere flex of their might.

It’s a shame you weren’t a sorcerer who knew what and who he was.

Summoning your courage, you cleared your throat and shouted up to him, the question cutting through the eerie atmosphere, “Where am I and who the fuck are you?”

Sukuna’s laughter, a deep and menacing boom, resonated through the expansive domain, causing the very walls to tremble and the unsettling echoes to pierce your soul.

"Ignorant fool," he taunted, his voice dripping with disdain. "You dare address me in such a manner?"

You winced, hastily clapping your hands over your ears. "Could you please lower your volume?"

His laughter, a bone-chilling symphony, echoed once more, causing the ground to quiver. "Is this too much for your feeble mortal ears? Come and face me."

His words felt like an intrusive melody, echoing in your mind, a haunting tune you wished to escape.

Surveying the daunting mountain of bones and the seemingly endless staircase leading to his throne, you hesitated. "Uh, no thanks. It's quite a lengthy walk."

Your ears strained as Sukuna mumbled something indecipherable. There was a pause.

"Come and face me!" he thundered suddenly.

"What did I say about the volume?" you snapped.

"Face me!"

"Lower your voice!"

"Come and face me-"

"Can you just tell me where I am!" you yelled back, frustration boiling over.

A groan escaped your lips as you walked towards the edge of the bone mountain, adamant about not getting any closer or ascending those foreboding stairs. Rolling your eyes, you lashed out, sending a nearby skull skittering across the cavernous expanse, its hollow clatter echoing off the walls as it bounced and rolled.

Surveying your surroundings, you tried to fathom where you were and who this exceptionally bossy man-thing-monster could be.

It felt like mere moments ago you were in the familiarity of your home, and then, in the blink of an eye, you found yourself in this eerie place.

Curiosity mingled with the morbid as you picked up a human skull, studying it intently. Before you could react, Sukuna materialised beside you, his massive clawed hands snatching the skull from your grasp. His cold, calculating gaze bore into you, accentuated by a sly grin that danced across his face.

"Mine," he growled possessively.

Startled, you instinctively recoiled from his sudden presence. "Fucking hell! You almost gave me a heart attack."

He prepared to unleash another booming laugh, but the sight of your unimpressed expression made him hesitate, his smug demeanour faltering momentarily.

Clearing his throat, he began, "You, little human, find yourself within my domain."

You snorted, glancing around the eerie expanse once more. "Right. Perfect. Fantastic. That just clears it all up, then."

"I am Ryomen Sukuna, the King of Curses, the mightiest sorcerer of the Heian era, and soon to be your adversary," he declared.

"Oh, joy.”

You took a cautious step back, hands on your hips as you observed Sukuna's monstrous presence from this closer vantage point. His colossal, imposing form bore an unexpected juxtaposition of delicate black line tattoos, intricately strewn across his muscled physique. On each of his four wrists and biceps, ominous black rings encircled the powerful limbs, adding to the aura of menace.

Sukuna's facial features were strikingly sharp and angular, marked by prominent cheekbones and a menacing, chiselled jawline. His teeth gleamed razor-sharp, exposed in a malicious grin that laid bare his brutal nature. One half of his face retained a more distinguishable humanoid appearance, while the other bore a chaotic tapestry of marred skin resembling the gnarled bark of an ancient, scarred tree. His hands and fingers culminated in sharp black claws, a testament to his deadly prowess.

Atop his head, Sukuna wore a sinister crown of twisted, horn-like protrusions, accentuating his demonic countenance. These menacing horns symbolised his dominion over curses, solidifying his reign as the dreaded King of Curses—or so you guessed.

You whistled, gesturing toward his crown. "Seems a bit on the nose, doesn't it?"

Sukuna laughed, a deep and rich sound that carried a hint of warmth compared to his earlier booming demeanour. "It does the job, brat."

Rolling your eyes, you strolled away from him, your curiosity now fixated on the mountain of bones, which you began to inspect more closely, prodding them with the toe of your shoe. "So, why am I here, exactly?"

"I summoned you," Sukuna replied.

"Right. Why me?"

Sukuna chuckled. "Don't flatter yourself. Any human would have sufficed, it just happened to be you."

You let out a heavy sigh. "Were you bored or something?"

Sukuna's multiple scarlet eyes flickered with curiosity, a wry smile playing at his lips. "Indeed, I was."

"It's a bit... How should I put this?" you mused, glancing from the bones comprising his throne to those forming the ceiling and scattered across the ground. "It's a tad grim in here."

Sukuna suppressed a laugh, glancing at the skull in his hand that he had snatched from you earlier, rolling it between two of his hands before effortlessly crushing it to dust, akin to an aluminium can. "I don't see an issue with it."

"I imagine you quite like it... These aren't just your Halloween decorations, are they?" you remarked dryly.

"These are my trophies," Sukuna boasted.

 "Of course they are," you snorted. “You couldn’t have gone for Jack-O-lanterns? Black cats? Maybe a ghost or two? Or, I guess you have that covered… Thoughts?”

Sukuna's scowl deepened as he admonished you, "You should show more respect, human. I could kill you."

Undeterred, you crouched down and sifted through the masses of bones from the mountain, selecting another human skull. "So could most things."

"I beg your pardon—"

"Then beg. So could most things," you reiterated, standing up and inspecting the skull in your hands.

You began your ascent up the mountain of skulls, following the staircase that led to Sukuna's throne. Oblivious to Sukuna's growing bemusement and irritation, you oh-so-casually handled the human remains, displaying a level of disrespect that both puzzled and irked him. He couldn't fathom why he hadn't ended you like he had done with countless others. What was it about you that piqued his interest?

In a trance-like state, Sukuna remained fixated on you, watching intently as you climbed the staircase. Every detail about you seemed to captivate him, from the count of individual hairs on your head to the rhythm of your breaths, even the lingering scent of shampoo that trailed in your wake—the scent he inhaled hungrily.

The bones of the staircase crunched under your shoes as you ascended, the sound echoing through the cavern. However, you paid it no mind, your determination driving you forward.

A light chuckle escaped Sukuna's lips as he observed you casually taking a seat on his formidable throne. The audacity and nonchalance you displayed amused him greatly. Your courage was evident, and it only added to your intrigue. He wondered if this confidence extended to various other aspects of your life…

Languidly sprawled across his throne, you directed your attention to the aged, cracked skull in your hand, and spoke:

"Alas, poor Yorick! I knew him, Horatio: a fellow

Of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy."

"Why are you reciting Shakespeare? Just to annoy me or because I'm the only one you can talk to, since the others are dead?" he remarked.

Sukuna leisurely ascended the steps, watching you with an intrigued expression.

You let out a sigh and casually tossed the skull over your shoulder, the clattering sound echoing as it rolled down the mountain of bones. "What else am I supposed to do here? It's awfully dull, isn't it?"

Sukuna tilted his head, scowling deeply as he stalked closer. Was this human calling his domain dull? He felt something stir within him...

"I'll have you know," he retorted, "I work diligently to maintain this domain."

"By collecting skeletons and sitting on your ass all day?" you snickered, unimpressed.

"That... That isn't all that I do," Sukuna defended, his arms crossed, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He couldn't shake off the annoyance of you finding his domain unimpressive.

"I had to defeat plenty of foes to obtain these skulls and bones. I've worked tirelessly for this throne," he asserted.

You sighed as you stretched out lazily on his throne, making yourself at home. "I'll give you that. It's a comfortable seat."

Annoyance surged within Sukuna. How dare you touch his throne, let alone stretch out on it? You were blatantly taunting him with your actions, and he couldn't stand for it. His lip curled in a manner it never had before, his face twisted in evident disgust as he approached you, extending his clawed hands, pointing and clicking with a sinister smirk.

"Move."

You kissed your teeth, a sardonic expression on your face. "Where are your manners? Say please."

Sukuna froze, caught off guard by your audacious response. Did you just instruct him to say please? Did you dare to instruct the King of Curses? His eyes widened in disbelief, grappling with your boldness. He couldn't decipher if this was pure defiance or merely a game to toy with him. Regardless, he found your tone intriguing—albeit unsettling.

You arched an eyebrow, a lazy grin playing at the corners of your lips.

Unaccustomed to such defiance, Sukuna felt a mix of surprise and annoyance. No one had ever dared to challenge him like this. He stared at you, his cold and calculating demeanour returning to his face.

"Move, fool!" he thundered, his voice resonating through the cavern, causing bones to tremble beneath and around you.

“Say please.”

Sukuna's unmarred eyes twitched with a mix of irritation and reluctant amusement. He knew he shouldn't be enjoying this, but he found himself strangely drawn to your unyielding nature.

"Please move out of my throne. Now," he growled, struggling to maintain his composure.

You responded with a hum, your smile curiously enchanting. "Get on your knees and say it."

Sukuna was stunned, his disbelief evident. You were undoubtedly toying with him. He couldn't believe how this exchange was making him feel, his heart quickening and an unfamiliar warmth tingling in his cheeks.

For a moment, he hesitated, then, with a smirk that couldn't be suppressed, he lowered himself to his knees before you. His gaze remained locked on you as you continued to lounge in his throne—like it was made for you.

"Now say please. Say it like you mean it," you persisted.

Sukuna rolled his eyes and reluctantly obliged, allowing a flicker of annoyance to colour his voice. "Please. Move out of my throne."

The smirk on his face undermined the attempt to convey genuine sincerity.

Your eyes narrowed, determined. “Like you mean it.”

He grunted, attempting to strike a balance between irritation and compliance. "Please. Move out of my throne."

There was a faint trace of politeness in his tone, but the insincerity was evident. The reason behind your insistence puzzled him. He couldn't comprehend why you were fixated on this request.

"Why are you being so persistent?"

"Shut up. Don't question me. Say please."

He scoffed, feigning annoyance. "Fine, fine, fine."

Though the act didn't genuinely bother him, Sukuna was growing increasingly intrigued about the reason behind your persistence. He had a sneaking suspicion that your desire for him to say "please" went beyond just his tone. This conversation was taking an unexpected turn, one he hadn't anticipated.

"Won’t you please move out of my throne?" he asked, this time with genuine sincerity laced into his words.

"Keep saying please," you grinned mischievously at him, eyes alight with amusement.

This was spiralling into uncharted territory. Sukuna could feel the warmth creeping up his cheeks as he realised what you were trying to make him do. Despite the unexpected turn of events, he found himself oddly willing to comply, feeling a strange sense of euphoria from the experience.

"Please. Please move-"

"No, no. Just say 'please'. Just that. Keep saying it," you drawled.

Sukuna was momentarily left speechless, captivated by the peculiar request. The amusement in the situation wasn't lost on him, and he found himself enjoying this unexpected exchange.

"Please…!"

He began to repeat the word, his voice growing louder and more resolute with each iteration. The cavern echoed with the booming sound, filled with an unusual conviction. Throughout the exchange, his eyes remained locked onto yours, fixated on something he had never known he could feel—curiosity and a touch of vulnerability.

"That's better," you gently interrupted, your voice inviting softness.

Sukuna paused, considering you. It seemed you wanted him to alter not just his words, but also his demeanour—to become soft and sweet, a far cry from his usual cold, commanding self. He cleared his throat and spoke in a hushed whisper.

"Please..."

His voice, now gentle and honey-like, carried a richness and warmth that sharply contrasted with his typical cold and authoritative tone. He spoke with an awkward tenderness, like his vocal chords had not been designed for it.

Your eyes sparkled with approval. "Good... Keep saying it like that." 

Surprised by your approval, Sukuna found himself unexpectedly pleased with how this situation had evolved. The King of Curses adjusted his posture as he knelt before you, accommodating his massive frame for a more comfortable position.

Continuing to repeat the word in that soft, sweet tone, thoroughly enthralled by the unusual turn of events. He couldn't help but wonder why he felt so oddly giddy. This exchange was intriguing, and he found your request strangely alluring.

You hummed thoughtfully and shifted your sitting position on his throne, adjusting to your comfort. A subtle, anticipatory tension hung in the air as you rubbed your thighs together, biting your bottom lip, your gaze fixed on him as he knelt and spoke in that gentle, pleading tone. Sukuna couldn't deny the unique excitement that surged within him.

Sukuna couldn't help but notice the seductive movements of your body, a provocative display that stirred a new sensation within him. He gulped nervously, feeling a newfound exhilaration as he continued to utter that soft word:

"Please... Please... Please…"

The way you looked down at him, your gaze ravenous and hungry, sent shivers down his spine. It was a gaze that suggested desire, an eagerness to consume him whole. Sukuna was gradually comprehending the appeal of this scenario and the feelings it evoked—feelings he had never experienced before.

He found himself oddly pleased by the way you stared at him, as if he were your prey. The sensation was foreign but undeniably enticing. He couldn't quite grasp why this was turning him on, if that was indeed what he was feeling. It was an uncharted territory for him, and you were leading him into the depths of this unexplored realm.

Your face lit up with amusement, and your legs rubbed together in a teasing motion. It was evident that you were toying with him, revelling in the effect you were having on him. Sukuna felt the flush of heat creeping up his neck, a telltale sign of his growing arousal. This was a sensation he had never associated with himself, yet it was undeniable—he was beginning to enjoy this, a lot.

The King of Curses continued to plead sweetly, a rush of euphoria surging through him, a tempest of desires that he was just beginning to grasp.

You tugged at your clothes and spread your legs, exposing yourself to him as you sat on his throne. You licked your fingers and dipped them between your thighs, rubbing yourself as you listened to him begging.

All his eyes were glued to the way your fingers teased your cunt, tracing its perimeter but never quite touching yourself were he would have touch you. If it were him, he would have buried his face between your legs, not teasing, but devouring. He licked his lips, zoning in on the slick of your arousal that glisted on your folds—meaning that him begging had turned you on, maybe even more than it did him. So, that was your game, was it?

The audacity of your actions left Sukuna in a state of disbelief. The line between desire and humiliation blurred as you pushed the boundaries, challenging his self-control. It was an internal struggle for Sukuna—his centuries-old pride warring with this intoxicating, uncharted desire.

He could feel his heartbeat quicken as he grappled with the unexpected arousal that coursed through his veins. The sight of you, unabashed and bold, combined with the teasing laughter in your voice, fueled the flames of his arousal.

His voice, hoarse and shaky, struggled to keep up with the torrent of emotions. The word "please" fell from his lips in a desperate plea, almost a mantra, amplifying the tension in the room.

"Sukuna, you're hard as a rock," you pointed out, the truth of your words ringing through the air.

Your laughter, rich and playful, reverberated through the chamber, filling the room with an infectious energy. It was a stark contrast to the typically stoic and fearsome King of Curses. Sukuna couldn't help but feel a surge of humiliation mixed with fascination at his own arousal.

With your teasing remark, Sukuna's gaze reluctantly shifted downward, his eyes widening as he acknowledged the undeniable evidence of his arousal. Under the baggy cloth of his trousers, he was indeed hard as a rock, a physical response to the alluring power you held over him. He could feel both of his cocks throbbing with heat, twitching in their confines. The arousal was a foreign sensation, and the fact that you were the cause of it left him both bewildered and intrigued.

In this moment, Sukuna found himself ensnared in a paradox—humiliated by his vulnerability yet undeniably enticed by the forbidden, his instincts torn between the desire to assert his dominance and the intoxicating allure of surrendering to this new experience—to surrendering to you.

He had never felt so vulnerable, so at the mercy of his own desires.

The small, involuntary moan that escaped his lips startled him, a clear indicator of just how much you had unravelled him. How embarrassing.

His voice, once firm and commanding, now wavered with need and desperation as he continued to plead. The word "please" took on a new tone, a raw and needy edge. He was no longer the dominant King of Curses; he was a man lost.

Despite this vulnerability, Sukuna couldn't deny the intoxicating allure of the moment. He wanted to hold onto this feeling, this new vulnerability that both embarrassed and enticed him. It was a struggle to admit that he craved this, that he wanted more, that he wanted you to keep pushing him into this unexplored realm. The word "please" became a whisper, an admission of his desire, a plea for the unknown to continue.

"Hey, Sukuna? Why don't you touch yourself, hm?" you mused in a breathy voice.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me. Do as you're told."

Sukuna's breath hitched at your words, the unexpected request sending a surge of heat through his veins. It was a daring proposition, one that caught him off guard, yet the enticing tone of your voice pushed his desire higher. He was torn between the embarrassment of this unfamiliar vulnerability and the overpowering need to submit to your words.

He hesitated, struggling to reconcile his pride with the intoxicating allure of your command. Touching himself was an act he had never considered, a realm he had never ventured into. But the pull of your dominance was too strong to resist.

Summoning his willpower, he shifted slightly, his hands inching towards himself. The air was charged with anticipation as he grappled with the embarrassment and excitement that warred within him. He swallowed hard.

"Say please," he challenged.

Sukuna's challenge was met with amusement in your eyes, your laughter echoing through the chamber. He couldn't help but feel a rush of frustration and fascination at your commanding presence. How had a mere human managed to exert such control over the King of Curses?

"Oh, come on. Look at yourself. I'm sitting on your throne getting off with you kneeling before me, begging. Do as you're told."

Your words, dripping with confidence and authority, sent a surge of heat to his cheeks. His own pride clashed with the intoxicating allure of your dominance. The way you spoke to him, the way you commanded him—it was undeniably hot, a sensation he was both frustrated and intrigued by.

The word "please" left his lips almost like a whine, a testament to the power you held over him. His gaze remained locked on yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of frustration, vulnerability, and longing. You were indeed torturing him.

"Be good for me, and touch yourself,” you said in a dangerous whisper as you rubbed yourself. 

You dipped a finger inside yourself and moaned, a lazy smile on your face. You bucked into your hand as you touched yourself on his throne, putting on a show for him. His mouth watered as he pictured how it must feel inside you—slick and warm and tight—and God, what he wouldn’t give to feel it for himself.

Sukuna was both infuriated and captivated by your brazen display The way you moaned and smiled lazily, openly touching yourself, was a challenge to his self-control. But he was compelled to obey, to succumb to your desires and the intoxicating dominance you wielded.

He followed your command, tugging down his trousers and exposing himself to your gaze. His hands, large and powerful, hesitantly moved to touch himself, fingers grazing over his arousal.

His huge, domineering hands wrapped around his cocks, stroking the lengths of them and he gasped. Why was this more intense than any battle? A better thrill than killing? He bit hit lip, eyes drawn to and fascinated by his own body’s reaction to you and how milky white pre drooled down from his slits. How, with every stroke of his hands, his back archer and he bucked into his own touch.

His eyes fluttered shut as he grappled with this new experience, letting himself be consumed by the heady mix of desire and submission. The act was both mortifying and exhilarating, and all the while, he was acutely aware of your eyes on him, your presence commanding and beguiling.

He couldn't believe that all of this was coming from your voice. His eyes were glued to between your legs, his gaze never leaving yours as he continued to touch himself. Your own hungry eyes latched onto both of his huge, aching dicks as he played with himself. Everything about Sukuna was overwhelming, from his power to his body to his lust. You found yourself admitting to your own curiosity as you drank in the sight of them; The sight of them dripping and flushed and how almost swollen his balls looked with cum that hand’t been released.

Your moans and groans seemed to echo in unison, creating a symphony of desire that filled the chamber. Sukuna was increasingly lost in the overwhelming sensations that coursed through him. The word "please" left his lips in a chorus of longing, each repetition pushing him deeper into submission.

His focus had shifted entirely, the initial intent of getting you off his throne fading into obscurity. His gaze remained fixed on your intimate display, his arousal building with every touch and sound that emanated from both of you. The control you held over him was both infuriating and irresistible, a feeling he couldn't quite comprehend but was unwilling to resist. As the moments passed, he found himself yearning for more, wanting this sensation to continue, to deepen, to consume him entirely.

The clash between his innate desire for power and this newfound intoxicating submission was tearing at the fabric of his being. The strength he prided himself on was now overshadowed by a longing to surrender to your every command.

Your moans were like a siren's call, drawing him deeper into the realm of obedience and desire. He felt a vulnerability he had never known, as if his very essence was being reshaped. He wanted to rebel, to assert his dominance, but your dominion over him was undeniable. Each moan you released seemed to pierce through his defences, leaving him trembling and on the verge of shattering—a cold bullet to his cursed, beating heart.

His breath was uneven, his voice cracking with need as he continued to repeat the word "please". It was a punishment he secretly craved, an experience that left him teetering on the edge, yearning for more of this torment.

"You should see yourself, Sukuna. Kneeling before me and touching yourself so desperately... Poor thing. I almost feel bad for you," you moaned.

Your words washed over Sukuna like a tidal wave, a symphony of desire and humiliation that left him gasping for breath. The sharp pain in his chest only served to intensify the sensations that coursed through him. The way you continued to toy with him, to humiliate him, sent shivers of both pleasure and torment down his spine. It left him feeling both broken and intoxicated, aching for the next command, the next word that would bind him even further to your will.

"Go on. Tell me how pathetic you are."

The admission felt like a double-edged sword, cutting through Sukuna's pride and ego, yet at the same time igniting a fire within him. He had never felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and he was both repelled and drawn to this feeling. His voice trembled with shame and arousal as he echoed the words you demanded of him.

"I'm pathetic... You're so much better than me... I'm so pathetic..."

The words hung in the air, heavy with the weight of his humiliation. He was laying bare his weaknesses, succumbing to the reality of his own desires. Each syllable was a confession that he wanted more, even if it hurt.

You laughed at him. "Aw, I bet you wish I was touching you, hm?"

The shame was palpable, like a physical weight on his shoulders. Each word was like a punch to his ego, yet he couldn't stop himself.

"I wish you were touching me… Yes… I'm that pathetic…"

His admission was barely a whisper, laced with both humiliation and a strange sense of longing. He wanted to resist, to regain control, but it was slipping through his fingers like sand. The battle between his pride and desire raged within him, and right now, desire was winning. The shame was a peculiar thrill.

"I bet you want me to touch so badly that you don't even care if it hurts, right?"

It was an unfamiliar yearning for pain. He had spent centuries as a powerful being, feared and revered, but now he was willingly surrendering to a mere human.

"Yes... I don't care if it hurts. Please... Please hurt me..."

You gracefully rose from his throne, fingers languidly snapping in front of Sukuna's face, a signal for him to rise to his feet. He complied with your command, a sudden flood of emotions rushing through his body. Every nerve seemed to tremble with a blend of obedience and desire, eagerly awaiting your touch.

As you stepped closer, your hands gently found their place on his chest, tracing the contours of his overpowering muscles. "D'you like that?" you murmured softly, your words a tender caress.

His breath hitched, caught in his throat, eyes locked onto yours as your fingers danced across his chest. His muscles quivered in response to your gentle exploration, every moment an intoxicating revelation. Your touch, so light yet electrifying, made him acutely aware of his own body. The tingling sensation of your fingers on his skin sent shivers down his spine, making his breath hitch.

"Y-Yes... I do. It feels... Exquisite," he managed to stammer, his voice cracking under the weight of your gaze.

"You're so sensitive," you observed, your touch leaving a trail of fire wherever your fingers danced. "I wonder how you'd react if I hurt you," you whispered, your voice laced with a mix of curiosity and a dark sort of delight. "Would you still be begging for it?"

His pride warred with his newfound craving, but the latter was undeniable. "Please... I want more," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. He was at your mercy, a feeling that both terrified and thrilled him.

Without hesitation, you kneed him in the crotch, hitting both of his cocks square on.

It was an instantaneous, electric shock of agony that seared through his nerves, leaving him momentarily paralyzed as the intensity of the pain overwhelms his senses. He dropped to his knees with a thump, gasping.

The pain was sharp and stabbing, radiating from the point of impact like a wildfire. As if every nerve ending in the area was set ablaze, sending distress signals to his brain at an alarming speed. Sukuna’s body instinctively recoiled, attempting to protect the vulnerable region, but the pain persisted, gnawing at his insides. The pain didn't limit itself to the immediate area of impact; it radiated outward, affecting his entire abdomen, lower back, and even his thighs.

With each passing second, the pain intensified, reaching a peak where it feels like an all-consuming force, making it difficult to focus on anything else. Breathing becomes shallow and laboured, and waves of nausea washing over him, threatening to push him to the edge of consciousness.

His entire existence was shattered because of you.

"P-Please stop…!"

Sukuna writhed in agony. The once-proud King of Curses now knelt before you, completely vulnerable and at your mercy. His pleas for you to stop were desperate, and he trembled with the intensity of the pain that coursed through his body.

But you weren't done. You wanted to test the limits of his submission, to see just how far he would go for this new, twisted pleasure that bound him to you. Your hand reached out, fingers gently tracing the lines of his face before cupping his chin, forcing him to look up at you.

You laughed at Sukuna and placed your foot on his shoulder, pushing him down so he was laying flat on his back. Sukuna had never imagined he would be brought to such a state, submitting to the will of a human. He was at your mercy, and you were showing him no mercy at all. The proud King of Curses had been reduced to a whimpering, pained creature under your command.

He could only look up at you with desperate eyes, unable to fight back or retaliate. The pain was excruciating, and all he wanted was for it to end.

Tears welled in his eyes, a mixture of both pain and humiliation. "Please... I'm sorry... Please, have mercy..." he choked out, his voice barely audible through the suffering.

As the pain continued, he was losing his mind. He couldn't understand how he had let things go this far. He was so embarrassed by the fact that he asked you to hurt him. He didn't want to feel the pain anymore. He wanted to please you, but at what cost?

"P-please! I want it to stop…!"

"No, you don't. You're sick and disgusting, and you want this."

Another wave of agony washed over Sukuna as you kicked him in the crotch again, making his dicks twitch and drool. He cried out in sheer pain, his voice echoing through the chamber. Tears streamed down his face as he lay there, completely defeated and humiliated.

You were right. He had begged for this, and now he was paying the price for his own desires. His body trembled as he tried to cope with the searing pain coursing through him.

"S-Sick... Disgusting..." he repeated your words, the humiliation sinking deeper. 

Each kick was like a dagger to Sukuna's abdomen, the pain intensifying with every strike. He could barely think straight, his mind consumed by the overwhelming torment coursing through him. He tried to beg for mercy, to make it stop, but his pleas were only met with further mockery and pain.

"P-please... It hurts... It hurts so—”

"It hurts! It hurts!" you mocked in a high pitched voice, giving him another kick.

The pain was unbearable. It was like a searing fire coursing through him, blurring his vision and numbing his mind. Each kick felt like a brutal reminder of his vulnerability and how he had let himself be reduced to this pitiful state. He tried to form words, to beg for mercy, but all that came out were incoherent cries of anguish. He had lost any semblance of control, reduced to nothing but a whimpering wreck at your feet.

Yet, in the darkest depths of his agony, a part of him was still ashamed of the desperate need for this torment, the twisted satisfaction it gave him despite the pain. He was a curse, a King of Curses, and yet he was being broken by a human. The irony was a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Stop... Please... Just stop," he managed to croak out, tears mingling with his pain.

The relentless assault left him gasping for breath, tears streaming down his face. He was trapped in a never-ending cycle of agony and humiliation, and there was no escape. Sukuna had never felt so out of control in his existence. He was begging you to stop, begging you to keep going.

You flashed a mischievous grin and ceased your playful kicking. With an enticing sway, you straddled his waist, your back turned to him. Slowly, you traced the delicate path of your nails, tantalisingly dragging them up the expanse of his powerful thighs. 

"How's this?" you purred, your voice dripping with seduction.

"Ah... Ah...! H-it's... M-mmh!" His thoughts felt scrambled as he couldn't think anymore.

Your touch sent waves of ecstasy through him. His body quivered in response to the electrifying sensation of your nails tracing his thighs. Each deliberate drag felt like a surge of electric pleasure, setting his lower body ablaze with delightful twitches and shivers that seemed to course through his entire being.

"What was that? I didn't hear you," you taunted playfully.

He struggled to form a coherent response to your taunt. The sensitivity was overwhelming, and every movement you made felt like a magnificent burst of fireworks throughout his body. Every fibre of his being was trembling, and all he could manage was a desperate whimper.

"M-mmh... Ah! It feels... Ah!" he gasped.

"Pardon?" you chimed, feigning innocence.

As if the intensity wasn't already overwhelming, you chose that moment to pinch him, rolling the skin of his ballsack between your fingers, causing a sharp wave of pain to shoot through his entire being. The pain was searing, making his body contort, but paradoxically, there was an undeniable undercurrent of pleasure. The sensation of the pinch pushed him closer to the edge, and a growing feeling of heat surged within him.

"Ah!"

"You're close, aren't you?"

A deep blush now coloured his cheeks, an undeniable testament to his arousal. He couldn't deny it any longer—being pinched in such a way ignited an intense mixture of sensations within him. The pain, sharp and intense, coexisted with an overwhelming pleasure that seemed to radiate through every fibre of his being.

"Y-yes... I'm close... I-"

Sukuna's body jerked and tensed as a slap of your hand sent waves of pain and pleasure coursing through him, making his cocks sway in the air pitifully. Your taunts only fueled the fire within him, igniting a longing he couldn't deny. He was a king, but in this moment, he was at your mercy, and a part of him relished in the vulnerability of it all.

He couldn't bring himself to respond, the sensations rendering him speechless, his breathing erratic, and his body trembling under your touch and words.

"Yeah? You like that, don't you? Freak."

His moans were desperate, an involuntary response to the storm of sensations assaulting him. The mixture of pleasure and pain had him teetering on the edge of ecstasy and torment. It was a chaotic dance, and he was the unwilling participant, pulled in every direction by the whims of this strange, sadistic human being.

"You're such a loser."

As Sukuna struggled to regain control, a voice in his head told him that this wasn't over yet, that the storm was far from calming. And he knew, deep down, that he wanted to experience whatever came next, no matter how twisted or dark it might be. He was so close… He could feel it. He couldn't help but admit that he was a loser. He was getting off to this… 

"You're a loser. A freak. A sicko. It's disgusting and perverted. You're so gross."

He was moaning loudly, and he was shaking in a way he could not control. "You deserve this."

"S-Yes... I-I deserve it! Please…! ‘M a loser! I’m disgusting! I deserve this!"

The words were tumbling out of his mouth, but he couldn't stop now. Every feeling you were giving him continued to push him towards paradise.

He had unlocked a hidden aspect of himself, one that craved the twisted pleasure that came from this dark encounter. The way he responded, eagerly admitting his worthlessness and desire for punishment, only fueled the fire within you.

"You're such a pathetic, filthy creature," you hissed, punctuating your words with another slap to his crotch, making him shudder and cry out.

Sukuna's moans grew louder, and he writhed beneath you, completely at your mercy. The pain, the humiliation, the pleasure—it was all merging into a chaotic symphony of sensations that threatened to consume him whole. He was nodding his head in agreement to your words. He didn't deserve more than the punishment you were giving him. He was pathetic, pathetic, pathetic.

And then it hit him. 

As his body convulsed and trembled, he felt the flood of emotions he had never allowed himself to experience before. The boundaries he had erected around his desires and vulnerabilities were crumbling, and he was exposed, raw, and consumed by the overpowering intensity of the moment. Sukuna's silent scream echoed in his mind, his eyes rolling back into his head as tears fell and streaked his face, snot dripping from his snivelling nose, drool seeping from his mouth with his tongue lolled out.

He came everywhere, ropes upon ropes of cum spurting from his cocks, thick and oozing and staining your hands and his flushed skin. His ambodmen flexed and trembled as he came, and his thighs rubbed together, veins bulging. Your hands left his balls and wrapped around each length, stroking and pumping out every last drop as he writhed and bucked into your touch. You marvellevd at the sheer amount of mess he could make as it clung to your fingers and slicked up your palms with each stoke.

Sukuna's claws dug into the ground, leaving deep gouges in the bone flooring as he sought some form of grounding in the midst of this tumultuous experience. The pain and pleasure had taken him to the brink of his own understanding, and his body's response was primal, uncontrolled, and desperate. He was no longer the composed and collected King of Curses but a mindless creature enslaved to pleasure, and enslaved to you.

You couldn't help but laugh, a triumphant grin dancing across your lips as you gazed down. "What are you, Sukuna?"

He could only drool and babble incoherently, his body squirming and writhing in response to the overwhelming sensations. The once-mighty King of Curses had been reduced to a quivering mess, incapable of forming a coherent reply. As you observed him, the power you held over him was undeniably evident, but it left you somewhat exasperated. You had expected more of a challenge from the formidable King of Curses, yet he had proven to be surprisingly vulnerable when faced with his own desires.

You paused, letting the weight of the moment sink in, and then decided to finish the sentence yourself. "Nothing. You are nothing to me," you declared, the words dripping with finality.

In that instant, Sukuna's eyes reflected a complex mix of emotions—humiliation, anger, and a hint of something resembling realisation. The reality of his vulnerability stung, and the acknowledgement of his insignificance cut deeper than any physical pain ever could. 

Nothing. 

Nothing.

a/n: this was written with spite. revenge for chapter 236. bitch. and yes, you will be exposed to silly little literature quotes n references. i will force feed you intertextuality. hugs n kisses to @lunerabo for some of the dialogue hehe. Happy Kinktober!!! :3

this work belongs to STARRIERKNIGHT . please refrain from plagiarising any of my works and do not repost/translate/modify/copy onto any platforms.

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 12: Falling, Too

Content warning: mentions of cannibalism, description of a dead body, mutilation of a dead body, angst, mentions of rape, death of an animal

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Slow Wave - Esben and the Witch Tumbling Lights - The Acid Sick - Chelsea Wolfe

* * * * *

Chapter 11 | Chapter 13

* * * * *

Yes, maybe the King of Curses was right. Perhaps he has tainted you.

Because in the three weeks since you arrived at the shrine, you can hardly recognize yourself anymore.

Two days ago, your attendants found you on your back, Sukuna’s hands all over you, his tongue buried inside your cunt, feasting on you like he’d never eaten a day in his fucking life. It’s also been two days since Sayuri disappeared into his chambers.

And since then, everything has been a blur. A tangled, draining blur. 

Exhaustion, headaches, and the return of your nightmares have turned you into a husk. You don’t leave your room. No sunlight, no fresh air. Only listless hours of broken rest. 

You can only assume that the source of all these symptoms is the crushing stress you find yourself under—everything you’ve done and everything you’ve yet to do to complete your task.

You're starting to wonder if, when this finally ends and you drag yourself home, you'll even remember the woman you were before it all began.

Hopefully, but you’re starting to question it.

Knock, knock, knock.

The door to your chamber slides open, and someone enters.

Lying on your crumpled futon, you doze in and out of sleep until you hear footsteps tapping. The sound is precise and clipped, indicating that it’s likely Ren. Sayrui’s feet have a more delicate cadence, while Uraume is ghostlike.

As you break open your eyelids, your assumption is confirmed when Ren comes into view, tray in hand. She and Uraume have attended to your needs these last few days, while Sayuri remains noticeably absent.

Given what happened, it’s not surprising.

Crouching down, Ren reaches forward with the tray. As she places it at the head of the futon, her hands come away quickly, the movements rigid and distant.

"Your meal, my Lady," she says emotionlessly, straightening and clasping her hands before her cream-coloured robe. Her eyes remain guarded, like a gate denying entry, never meeting yours even once, as if you haven’t met.

Inwardly, you sigh.

The downside of being raised with very little affection is that you seek it out wherever you can. Whatever trust you had built with your attendants seems to have eroded and fallen away.

“Thank you, Ren,” you say quietly, sitting up and pulling the tray to rest on your thighs.

With no other words, you eat what you can stomach—rice and vegetables. When you finish, Ren simply collects the tray and leaves.

Another day passes.

You lie in darkness. Body exhausted, it’s all-consuming. Your head aches as if a fist is hammering against your skull, demanding entry. You almost wish it would split open—anything to silence your thoughts, which drift to them—Sukuna with Sayuri—far too often.

There’s been no sign of either. Perhaps they’re too occupied fucking each other in his chambers, mere steps from your room.

None of this should matter to you.

The man is a fiend, a damn scourge upon this earth. Your head knows this, and your heart knows this too. But for some terrible, unknown reason, the thought makes your chest ache—his four hands on her, touching every part of her, and her moaning for him as he gets lost in her.

You press your forearm across your eyes, burying your head into the pillows.

Sukuna is misery.

Hours drag on, and eventually, you fall asleep.

Knock, knock, knock.

The door slides open. The silent sound of footsteps. Uraume.

You roll onto your side, eyes fluttering open, and you see them standing beside the futon, tray in hand.

“Hello, my Lady,” they say, offering a slight bow. “I’ve brought your meal.”

Your face attempts to smile. At least some things remain unchanged between you and them.

You push yourself upright, exhausted limbs shaking with the effort.

“What time is it?” you breathe.

“Sundown.” Uraume slides the tray to rest on your thighs.

Nodding, you scoop up your chopsticks and begin eating, hoping it will restore some semblance of strength.

"Uraume." You shift your gaze to them. "Have any letters arrived from my family?"

You’ve heard nothing when you should have. The silence, especially from Yuna, is troubling. You need reassurance that she’s safe and that your father hasn’t broken his word.

“No, my Lady,” Uraume replies. “We haven’t received any missives.”

Your throat tightens, and your tongue feels swollen as a piece of eggplant resists going down, forcing you to swallow twice.

It’s becoming apparent that you may need to find a way to reach out to the Kasai compound, even if it means doing something drastic.

“All right, thank you.”

Another day passes.

The King of Curses’ energy feels vacant; he must be gone. Where? You have no idea, though you tell yourself you don't care. It’s an obvious lie.

Hours drag on.

At some point, lost in a fog, you pull yourself up to move the wooden lacquer box—filled with the five beautiful silk kimonos and five pairs of gloves Sukuna gave you—out of sight. You tuck it away deep in your wardrobe, deliberately avoiding the temptation to look at it or trace the pattern of deer and wisteria flowers engraved on its surface.

Returning to the futon, you shut your heavy eyes and fall into another uneasy state.

Long hours drag by.

Knock, knock, knock.

The door slides open. Delicate footsteps. The encounter you’ve been dreading. 

Rolling onto your side, you watch Sayuri wander in, tray in hand. 

She looks so different compared to the last time you saw her.

You recall that night—when she was heading to Sukuna’s chambers, black hair unbound at her back, bare feet softly gliding across the floor, moving with a boldness that bordered on shameless.

Now, she moves quietly, lowering herself to her knees and carefully placing the tray near the head of your futon.

Your eyes lock.

“How are you feeling?” she asks, peering down at you, her tone warm. Sisterly.

Your throat constricts as a memory from seven years ago becomes an all-consuming glimpse.

A dark room, a sleeping body tucked beneath sheets.

How are you feeling?

You blink. Shaking away the past, shaking away the memories of that night.

You swallow.

“I’m fine.” When your voice slips out, it’s raspy, and sore-sounding. 

A smile touches Sayuri’s lovely face, making her seem like herself, if not even more so.

She reaches for the dishes on the tray, and your hands move to help—but you pull back just in time, reminded of the bare contact. You place them at your sides, fingers curling into the fabric of the bedding.

A sudden need to confront what happened creeps in, causing your heart to dip to your stomach until it aches uncomfortably.

“Sayuri.” At the sound of her name, something stirs in her brown eyes. “About what happened between Sukuna and—”

“Please,” she interrupts you as she finishes setting the ceramics down. “There’s no need to worry about it.” She hands you the chopsticks; her touch is easy and light. “Master Sukuna and I… we’ve shared so much over the years. He’s always had a way of finding comfort when he needs it, and I’ve always known how to give it. It’s just our way. We understand each other, even when he’s a bastard… which is most of the time.” A grin spreads across her face, her cheeks rounding as the smile deepens.

You wet your lips, trying to match her expression with your own smile, but it feels more like a mask than anything genuine.

“That’s good. I’m glad to hear it.” Are you? The words taste hollow. “It must be comforting to have that kind of consistency,” you add as if trying to convince yourself as much as her.

She eyes you, her willowy fingers dancing and tapping along the rim of the dishes. Tap, tap.

She’s thinking.

You watch as the rhythm quickens.

Tap, tap, tap.

It grows faster. Faster.

Tap, tap, tap, tap—

Stop!

Her hands stop.

“You know,” she drawls, “you have your place too. In his life. In his world. We all do. It’s just… yours is different, that’s all.”

Your father warned you about this, advising you and urging you to get close to the monster. And you had. Sukuna seemed enthralled by you, captivated even, but you hesitated the last time you were together, and now he's preoccupied, putting his time elsewhere.

“I suppose,” you murmur.

Sayuri’s smile widens just a fraction, perhaps in sympathy, then pushes a bowl containing a mountain of rice towards you.

“Try not to worry about it, my Lady. Right now, you need to focus on getting better. You need to eat to regain your strength.”

So, you do just that, but the strength you had hoped for doesn’t follow.

Another day passes, then two more.

You wake one morning—or at least think it’s morning—you can’t tell if it’s dawn, afternoon, or night. Your muscles feel like rot, and exhaustion throbs your brain. It takes over an hour in a warm bath just to make use of your limbs, but even then, it feels like it did nothing.

Dragging yourself back to your chambers, you collapse onto the futon, and a wakeless sleep falls across your eyes. They shut, and everything fades into obscurity.

At first, you dream nonsensical things. But soon, these give way to troubled nightmares you wish had never come.

Terrible images press against your eyelids: your sister surrounded by a pack of men, crowding in, holding her down. They rip away her garments, intentions clear. It’s your father’s threat. On the day he told you that you would wed the King of Curses, he made it clear what you must do to keep her safe.

But in this dream, you didn’t kill the monster.

Her cries split the air as they rape her, soft mouth opening in a wail. You cry, crushed by the consequences. You cry because you failed her. Cry because, despite everything you’ve done, she has always been the one constant in your life.

And if you fail, if you somehow aren’t able to kill Sukuna, you can’t stay here at the shrine—you can’t live here. You can’t remain here. You’ll go insane. You can’t. You can’t. You—

Knock.

The door falls open, pulling you to consciousness.

You don’t turn over to see who it is. Their presence touches you gently enough that you remain still, your breathing ragged as pieces of the dream settle into place.

Whoever is here doesn’t move. They remain in the doorway.

You consider rolling over, but then the scent of charcoal and iron hits your nose. You can taste it as it coats the roof of your mouth, stilling the breath in your lungs.

You freeze.

He doesn’t move.

You listen.

After a heartbeat, you hear his heavy footsteps. He takes three steps inside, then stops.

Silence.

You wait.

“Get up.”

Sukuna’s voice drags across you, hooking into your bones and pulling you from the depths of lethargy.

Though his energy often floods the air, drowning everything in its reach, apparently, he can just as easily pull it back at will, leaving nothing in its place.

With your face crushed into the pillow and your body weak, it takes all your strength to sit up. When you finally do, you turn slowly to look over your shoulder—a horrible decision. Your head swells as if your brain no longer fits inside your skull.

You blink once and rub the corners of your eyes. It’s been almost a week since you’ve seen each other.

At the sight, your body abandons every sense of itself. Stomach swooping, muscles tensing. Your heart races. But, for whatever reason, he can’t meet your eye. He appears agitated with how he holds himself as he glares at the tray of empty dishes next to you on the futon.

Why is he here if he doesn’t want to be?

Uncomfortable under his heavy silence, you turn over fully and lean against the pillows.

“Hello, my Lord,” you say, smoothing a wrinkle in the sheets with your hand. “I’m feeling unwell. Whatever you need, could it wait until tomorrow?”

He says nothing. So you study him instead.

His clothing—a deep evergreen kosode tucked into a dark grey umanori hakama, with his usual black haori draped over his large frame—indicates that he is either arriving from or heading somewhere.

“Get up,” he finally says, “I won’t ask again.” He steps away, approaching the door, then glances over his right shoulder, peeking at you with two red orbs. “Put something warm on.”

Stepping into the corridor, he slides the door shut.

You exhale, disentangling the sheets that have somehow moulded to your body and set about dressing yourself.

Still a bit wobbly from days in bed, you quickly throw on something similar to what he’s wearing—a kimono and hakama—snatching your gloves at the last second, almost forgetting them. You join Sukuna in the corridor where he leans against the wall, four arms crossed over his chest, eyes closed. As soon as he hears your door and you step beside him, he opens his lower pair of eyes and pushes off the wall.

“Come.” He gives you his back and starts down the passage.

You do your best to keep up, but your sluggish gait can’t match his long strides. True to form, he makes no effort to slow down or accommodate you. As he leads you down the longest corridor toward the shrine's front entrance, you wonder where he’s taking you.

When you finally step out into the September evening, the warmth of the lingering summer air licks your skin. Yet, a crispness hints at the arrival of autumn nights. The nearby forest recedes into dusk, its amber light catching on the treetops while the undergrowth swallows shadows.

After a week of isolation, the sight alone is beautiful.

Tipping your chin up, you study the sky. It’s clear, without clouds to trap in the warmth, suggesting that tonight will be cooler than most. You wish you had brought a cloak to keep warm.

Hugging your weary shoulders, you trail after Sukuna as he veers to the right, heading toward the stables. It suddenly dawns on you—he intends to take you off the grounds.

You freeze.

“My Lord?”

You sense his irritation as his shoulders swell.

“Keep up,” he orders, leaving you no choice but to follow him inside.

Upon entering, you notice the massive obsidian mounts raising their heads in interest. All are tucked inside their stalls except for one, which stands empty.

The air smells of straw, dry earth, and leather. And despite the absence of any stablehands—a consequence of Sukuna killing and consuming the last one weeks ago—both the space and the horses remain in excellent condition.

Someone has been caring for them.

Sukuna approaches one of the stalls, releases the door latch, and steps inside. Maneuvering his enormous body around the broad creature, he selects a bridle from a nearby rack and begins fastening it to the animal’s head.

Leaning against a wooden post for support, you watch him.

It’s clear he’s done this before, countless times, judging by how he maneuvers his four hands around the animal—over, under, back and forth, fingers deftly looping the leather and tugging the straps. It’s mesmerizing. He’s mesmerizing, even though he shouldn’t be. As his lower hands adjust the tack, his upper arms keep the reins steady. Every movement is precise, practiced, and surprisingly… tender.

You had assumed all creatures would flee from the monster’s presence, but apparently, not all of them.

You have to physically fight back a smile as the horse butts its snout against Sukuna’s upper right shoulder. He furrows his brow and exhales but continues working. When the horse lets out a low, subdued whine and nudges him again, he pauses and lifts his lower left hand to pat the animal’s neck.

The realization hits you—he’s the one caring for them.

It’s odd to think, let alone watch, a man like Ryomen Sukuna tending to something lesser than himself. Yet, it makes sense. These creatures take him far, across regions, so he can fall upon villages and destroy them. Ruin lives.

In their own way, they have earned his respect.

Once the bridle is fastened, Sukuna leads the horse out of the stall and toward the waiting saddle. It's a crude contraption made of wood, with cloth padding and metal fittings to hold it all together.

You step back, giving them space.

“Is there anything I can do, my Lord?” you offer, hoping it will ease the invisible thread pulling taut between you two. However, given your condition, you doubt you’ll be much help.

Sukuna doesn’t glance your way.

“No,” he replies curtly, effortlessly lifting the girth and securing it onto the horse's back. You watch him in silence for a moment, feeling the weight of his dismissal. “We’ll share a mount,” he adds over his shoulder.

You chew the inside of your cheek.

"You’re aware that I can ride, right?" You approach the horse carefully, patting the bridge of its nose and up between its nostrils with your gloved hand before turning your attention back to Sukuna. "Unless you’ve forgotten the first time you saw me." You pull your hand away from the animal.

Sukuna pauses, hands stilling on the saddle, eyes narrowing slightly as he considers your words. There’s a subtle twitch in his jaw.

He says nothing.

He’s so quiet.

You wonder if he’s reflecting on that day—the day you first met on the dirt-packed road. He was bloody, dragging that dead woman behind him, while you were a complete mess in your wedding kimono.

“I remember it well,” he murmurs to himself, then yanks the final metal fitting into place with such force that it makes you cringe.

Suddenly, he takes one step closer, looming over you. As he dips his head to your level, you strain your neck to look up. Two strands of pink hair fall away to rest against his forehead.

"Horses, you seem to have some talent for riding," he says, voice deep and smooth. His upper hands come away from his body, moving to your hips before sliding firmly around your waist. "But I doubt you've ever had the pleasure of riding a monster."

The words make you shift on your tired feet, and his hands tighten around you. 

Your gaze cuts to the horse, unsure if he's referring to the actual animal or something else entirely.

Him?

“No… my Lord, I haven’t, but I assure you, if you provide me with my own mount, I can—”

Sukuna hoists you toward the horse, forcing your limbs to shoot in all directions. With your hands clambering for purchase and your body straddling the saddle, he lets you go. Without wasting more time, he fists the horse’s mane, swings his massive leg over, and positions himself behind you.

You tense as warmth and solidity press into your back. Two things you’ve not felt in ages.

He closes the distance even further, reaching for the leather reins with his upper arms, making you fidget.

“Don’t shift your balance,” he grumbles as his lower arms curve around your waist. He tugs once and secures you to him, making your heart travel to your throat. “We don’t want you falling off mid-ride and taking a tumble.”

A tumble.

You click your tongue at his unsubtle reminder.

Asshole.

“All right.” You adjust your hands on the saddle, determined not to fall or inadvertently clutch at him.

With a nudge, Sukuna signals the mount forward.

It steps out of the stables, presses onto the grounds, and moves toward the dirt-packed road.

* * * * *

When the sun dips, dusk settles in. With it arrives all manner of nocturnal insects. Their desperate chirps echo through the dark as they crawl in search of a mate.

In an attempt to stay alert, you focus on their sounds—the hums, the trills, the buzzing. Yet, as you concentrate, the mount beneath begins to move in a weightless gallop, gently rocking your body back and forth, lulling you into a strange, exhausted stupor.

Back and forth.

The horse’s legs extend. You move forward. The hooves strike the ground. You’re tugged back, pressing into Sukuna’s muscled chest.

Despite sitting in front of him, he doesn’t say a single word. It’s as though he isn’t there, but he is. And even though his presence is cold, the warmth radiating off him is sweltering. He acts like a furnace. Burning hot through the fabric of his garment, through yours, and into your skin.

Back and forth.

You look down.

His lower arms wrap around you, fingers interlocking across your abdomen to hold you securely and keep you from falling. At some point, his kimono sleeves slid back, revealing the black bands encircling his wrists. You look at them, wondering if Sayuri has recently traced her fingers over all the markings on his body.

Back and forth.

You dare a glance at him.

His face is tense, rigid, and stern, as if touching you causes him pain, though he does it out of necessity. You shift your attention elsewhere—the forest on either side, the shapeless trees blurring past, the sound of rumbling hooves pounding against the ground.

Back and forth.

Blink.

Your vision starts to narrow into a soft squint.

Blink.

Your eyes close, and you drift off.

Back and forth.

The creaking of the leather reins reaches your ears, and Sukuna’s weight suddenly shifts to the left.

Your eyes fly open as the horse cuts through the thick tree line and into the forest.

What the hell?

You turn, searching his face from over your shoulder.

“W-where are you taking me?” you stumble over the words.

His two lower eyes climb down to meet yours. They take in the confusion on your face while keeping the upper pair forward.

“Look out,” he warns, tipping his chin once.

You turn in time to see a low-hanging branch come into view. Ducking your head, you avoid it and feel it skim the fabric of your kimono.

Back and forth.

Sukuna pushes the mount further—far beyond the tree line, deeper into the forest, further from the dirt-packed road. The terrain dips, becoming soft and uneven, forcing the mount to slow its pace. Dense trees crowd the surroundings, snuffing out the dusky light until there is nothing but murky shadows.

When a breeze sweeps in, it tugs at leaves that have started browning, pulling them down to the mossy floor.

Goosebumps crawl up your arms and into your neck as the air cools.

At least, with Sukuna at your back, he keeps you warm. But just at that thought, seemingly for no reason, he stops the horse and relinquishes his hold on you and the reins.

He dismounts.

The forest breathes no sound as the King of Curses crushes into the undergrowth. No wind stirs the branches, and the insects cease their chirping. Only the crackling of twigs and leaves beneath his dense body breaks the silence.

Retaking the reins, he ties the mount to a nearby tree. Then, his eyes scan the surroundings as if in search of something.

You open your mouth to ask again why you are out here, but before you can speak, he plucks you from the saddle and drops you beside him.

“This way,” he grumbles, pushing through a tangle of brush and into the trees.

You huff in irritation. With no other option, you tuck your kimono into your hakama and follow after the monster.

Sukuna guides you east, or perhaps north—you're unsure. He seems to be following a burbling stream nearby, which you can see glimmering as you trail behind him.

You’ve stumbled twice already—once on a pile of hidden rocks and then on a mound rising from the soil—each time catching yourself with bruising effort. Fixing your eyes on Sukuna’s pink hair as a guiding beacon, you stumble a third time on an upturned root. Though you manage to steady yourself before falling, you can feel yourself nearing your breaking point.

“Need—to stop,” you groan to yourself. “My Lord,” you call out breathlessly, tugging at your silk gloves as sweat forms along your palms.

He doesn’t stop. Instead, he turns down a narrow, winding trail cut through tall grass and disappears into a cluster of trees.

You clench your teeth and force yourself to move.

Navigating the path, you finally, finally, see that he has come to a halt. He leans against a gnarled oak in a small clearing surrounded by shrubs and a fallen tree.

“What—” You breathe as you enter the clearing, your skin cold but burning hot. “Are we doing here?”

Irritated red eyes flicker to you, briefly assessing your state from head to toe.

“Waiting.” He hunkers against the bark as if in search of comfort.

“Waiting?” you press, taking a small step closer to him. “Waiting for what?”

“Waiting,” he repeats. Folding his four arms across his chest, he turns his body away from you. “Now shut up. Your voice is grating.”

Fuck.

One step forward. One step back.

You release a slow exhale.

Too exhausted to argue with the beast, you move to the toppled log at the edge of the clearing and sit. 

Now, without moving, the sweat on your skin starts to cool, and you’re shivering. You bring your hands together and rub them for warmth. Though it does very little, at least your teeth haven’t started chattering.

For a while, you stay like this, keeping your eyes on him the best you can. But an ache slowly rises along your spine, and your eyes flutter. In search of comfort, you lower yourself to the forest floor. The moss beneath you offers cushioning, and you lean against the fallen tree.

You blink and attempt to trace the lines of Sukuna’s body, his four crossed arms, the way he holds himself.

Another blink and the evening light smudges behind a deep blue-grey haze.

Yet another blink and fireflies have awoken, moving about the air. They hover and tumble, their luminescent bodies winking in the clearing.

Blink.

You inhale sharply, jolting your head up after it falls forward into your neck. You don’t remember dozing off.

Blink.

Sukuna remains still, eyes cast outward.

Blink.

You shiver from the cold and fold your legs in toward your chest.

Blink.

You fall asleep.

Crack!

You startle awake, heart pounding frantically.

Shaking away the drowsiness, you look around from where you sit on the ground. A branch or something must have snapped in the undergrowth.

Glancing at your surroundings, you notice that night has fully settled in.

Another shiver rolls through you, prompting you to pull the cloak wrapped around your shoulders closer for—

You look down.

Sukuna’s haori drapes over you, drowning you in its warmth and the scent of him—blood, ash, and smoke. He must have placed it on you while you slept. The gesture makes you swallow, and it makes your stomach pitch dangerously. You clutch the fabric. Its threadbare texture is smooth and crisp from wear. Tugging it closer, you try to capture whatever heat you can.

Tipping your head up, you see him still leaning against the oak, staring into the nothingness of the—

Crack!

Another branch snaps in the distance, quieter this time, but something is out there.

Surely, whatever it is won’t attack—not with the King of Curses here.

Crack!

You rise to your feet and cross the clearing.

“Sukuna,” you hiss. His body shifts, pulling away from the tree, crimson eyes lock onto your mouth at the sound of his name. “What are we—"

His upper left hand moves, and his index and middle fingers press against your mouth. He steps closer, the pad of his index finger gently settling into the curve above your lip.

Your heart staggers. Your eyes meet, and the forest around you falls silent.

You blink and open your mouth, but he shakes his head, silently urging you to stop.

Why?

Your eyes ask the question.

Without haste, he begins to move. Your gaze follows his every step as he takes three silent strides, positioning himself at your back. His arm bends and loops around you, keeping his fingers pressed to your mouth.

Slowly, he slides his hand away.

You exhale.

Just when you think you’re free of his touch, he leans in, the mask on the side of his face brushing lazily against your hair. Worse still, his mouth hovers against the shell of your ear, and your knees draw together. His breath, warm, causes bumps to rise along your spine.

“Do you see them?” he whispers.

Them?

Your eyes swing to his face, and he tilts his chin outward.

Turning, you peer into the darkness, but all you see are the endless shapes of trees and brush. You see fireflies and insects dancing. You see the moonlight and the stars above. But none of it registers. You’re too lost by how close he is.

You cut your eyes back to his.

“No,” you whisper, matching his tone.

He breathes, a sound that’s part scoff, part exhale.

Pressing closer, Sukuna takes your gloved left hand in his upper left one. Your fingers intertwine, the size of his so much larger than yours. Lifting your arm, he forces your fingers to pull back except for one. He leans closer. For a heartbeat, the sides of your face brush together. An awareness that makes your skin flush.

“Look… there.” His words rumble in his chest, the vibrations sinking into your back.

Following his direction, you squint, searching for whatever is out there.

A great stillness blankets the forest.

You continue to look, eyes straining in the gloom.

Then, movement catches your attention—the rustling of brush, the swivel of ears. One by one, they come into view.

A herd of deer.

You hold your breath.

They emerge from beneath the dim canopy, gliding through a pool of moonlight that casts them in shades of white and silver. Their slender bodies weave gracefully among the trees.

Counting them, you see seven. Among them are a young fawn and a mother who protectively flanks its side.

A smile tugs at the left side of your mouth.

“I see them."

Sukuna's chest rises against your back, and slowly, he lowers your hand to your side but keeps his fingers intertwined with yours.

Turning, you look at him. He’s staring at you, at your mouth, at the way you’re smiling.

Your eyes search his face.

“Do you do this often?” You keep your voice low.

Sukuna’s eyes drag away from your lips.

“No,” he murmurs, returning his gaze to the herd. “They follow the stream. They made the path we came in on.”

It sounds like he does do this often. But why lie about it?

Glancing back, you see the fawn moving away from its mother to explore. It finds a patch of tender grass and begins to nibble.

They’re so oblivious, so blissfully unaware of the monster nearby—the one at your back, the one whose fingers are interwoven with yours.

What you can only assume to be absentmindedly, Sukuna begins to trace the fabric of your glove with his fingertips, brushing along your knuckles before dipping down to the soft curve where your thumb and index finger meet. You, in turn, allow your exhausted body to sag against his. Your back nudges and presses into his chest.

Warmth and solidity.

A soft sound of relief slips from your throat.

At the contact, he tenses—the hand he had been tracing with stills. Then, suddenly, it engulfs your hand entirely. You look down as his grip tightens, tightens, tightens.

A warning goes off in your mind.

You wince.

From the corner of your eye, you see his upper right arm swing up.

Your eyes dart to his hand, watching his middle and index fingers extend.

He swipes the air once.

A strangled, high-pitched bleat tears through the forest. The agonizing cry slices through the calm, hurting your ears.

You whip your head toward the sound, to the herd, only to see a seam open on the fawn's neck. Blood pours out, and the creature falters before collapsing onto the forest floor. The rest of the deer scatter wildly, and the mother abandons her offspring.

Sukuna releases your hand and swiftly cuts a path through the undergrowth toward his quarry.

Like sensing a predator on the hunt, all the insects fall silent, the fireflies extinguish their light, and the air grows deathly still.

The urge to vomit becomes oppressive.

“What the hell—” you breathe, watching his massive form move gracefully toward the fallen animal. “What the hell was that for?” you demand, your voice rising.

He says nothing.

Reaching the fawn, he stands over it and tilts his head as if studying a piece of artwork—the tiny creature twitches, bleeding on the ground at his feet.

Anger races up your spine.

“Sukuna?!” You want an answer.

He says nothing.

After a heartbeat, he bends down, gathers its hind legs into one massive hand, and lifts it from the ground. The animal dangles, wriggling and trying to escape his grasp.

Sukuna turns, his four red eyes glowing.

With an unreadable expression, he places his upper right hand around the fawn’s neck and snaps it. The tiny body goes limp, its eyes showing stark white in the moonlight.

He lifts his head back to you.

“It’s time to go. We’re finished here.”

* * * * *

The ride back wraps in uncomfortable silence.

Sukuna grips the reins with one hand while the other carries his quarry. His remaining two hands press firmly at your waist, like a snare.

When you reach the shrine, he pulls you from the saddle and tucks the mount back inside the stables. Free from his grip, you head toward the main entrance, planning to retreat to your chambers to sleep and escape him. But Sukuna has other plans. He leads you inside and down the corridor toward the kitchen. You’ve never been inside, and there’s a reason for that.

With obvious reluctance, you follow him through the door.

The kitchen glows with a soft amber light from the oil lamps dotting the shelves. Dark wooden chests frame the space, holding essentials such as rice, vegetables, salt, and various grains. A large stone hearth stands against the far wall, its fat gray stones forming the base, while smaller stones interlock to complete the structure. The fire that burns in it is a bright, smouldering thing.

You might think the space is divine, given all the mouths it must feed here at the shrine.

Except there’s just one problem.

A dead, supine body lies next to the hearth—a woman. Uraume kneels beside her, holding a red-tipped knife. Pieces of her flesh have been cut away. The soft bits, the fatty tissue. Chunks of her thigh, hip, and breasts.

Your stomach gurgles at the wretched sight.

Uraume, unfazed by your arrival, leans down, pressing the knife into the underside of her chin. Around the fat of her neck. The blade dips in and they—

Thwack!

You jump.

The dead fawn crashes onto a low wooden table to your left. The impact sends utensils and earthenware clattering and tipping over, falling to the wooden floor.

Sukuna releases his hold on the creature, steps back, and turns to you.

“There,” he drawls, giving you the most vile, condescending sneer you’ve ever seen, all while gesturing grandly with his lower arms at the mutilated animal.

Your eyes narrow.

Whatever this is about—the way he pulled you from your chambers, the ride to the forest, the killing of the deer—he’s about to explain.

“There, what? ” you bite out.

Sukuna steps closer, eyes latching to yours.

“There,” he grinds out, “now you know where your fucking food is coming from.”

“What?” you snap.

He smacks his lips together.

“Don’t play dumb with me, wife.” He looks at you as if you’re nothing more than a disgusting scab. “From day one, you’ve refused to eat what’s been put in front of you. Now, look at you.” He gestures from head to toe.

You stare down at yourself, still swamped in his black haori. Your body feels drained—so damn tired. You shift your gaze to the fawn on the table, its neck twisted, then to the dead woman being carved up. Finally, your eyes lock on your husband.

The meat—all the meat you’ve refused since arriving at the shrine, pushed into tiny piles on the side of your plate.

“That’s what this is about?” you scoff, incredulous at how ridiculous he's being. “Are you suggesting I’m ill because of that? ”

Inside your head, you hear yourself laughing—bitterly, crazed even.

He might be right. It could be part of what’s causing your weakened state, but there's so much more—things he doesn’t understand and things you can’t reveal. If he knew, he’d kill you.

His eyes narrow, and his lip curls back, baring his canines.

“If you don’t agree, enlighten me,” he challenges.

“There’s other contributing factors,” you hiss.

Your mind races through them all—him, your attendants, your father, your sister, this place, him again and again.

“Is being a stubborn brat one of them? What else could there possibly—”

“You!” you shout. “You’re the reason. You’ve been nothing but insufferable and petty since the day I arrived.”

He stands paces away, then suddenly—he’s so close. His frame fills your vision.

“And yet, here you are, alive, breathing, and still sharp-tongued,” he snarls, “maybe I’m not being petty enough.”

Your pulse quickens, and the blaze from the hearth starts to dampen the sweat on your brow. Anger and exhaustion mix, making everything almost unbearable.

“You think dragging me out there, killing a helpless fawn—” you gesture to the creature, its blood seeping into the wooden table, “and tossing it at my feet proves something? All it shows is your cruelty,” you spit.

Sukuna’s gaze darkens. Whatever amusement was there fades.

“Cruelty? You misunderstand. I’ve merely shown you where your meat comes from. Be grateful I didn’t choose something larger or—”

“Or human?” you cut in. “That’s why I haven’t eaten. I don’t trust you. How could I when you take pleasure in tormenting me?” Your voice rises an octave.

Sukuna tilts his head slightly, considering you. Then, a slow, cruel smile spreads across his face.

“Trust, you say? Tell me, what have I done to earn such distrust?”

The laughter you’ve held inside bubbles up and spills out, loud and undignified. Sukuna’s nostrils flare and his eyes widen at your outburst.

“You really need me to list every vile thing?” You sway on the balls of your feet, adrenaline running through you. “Or should I start with the fact that you’re a monster who takes pleasure in suffering?”

His eyes flash as he steps closer.

“Perhaps you should take this as a lesson. Refuse what’s given, and you only make yourself weaker,” he says, voice lowering.

“Is that a threat?”

His four eyes dart across every feature of your face, and he hesitates—a rare thing.

“Call it a warning.” His tone is low and uncertain until it isn’t. “Eat, or don’t. It doesn’t matter to me if you fucking rot.”

Then, before you can say anything else, he turns and walks away.

“Fine!” you shout at his retreating back.

Uraume, who has remained silent, stands up.

“Master Sukuna, your meal is almost ready,” they say. He says nothing. He continues walking toward the door. “Master, where are you going?”

“Out!” he yells, sliding open the door and disappearing, leaving you alone with the fawn, Uraume, and the corpse.

You stare at the spot he had just occupied before ripping your eyes away.

Dragging a gloved hand through your hair, you look down at the deer, its unblinking eyes looking back at you.

Uraume moves to your side.

“My Lady, allow me to make a broth. Something that will be easy for you to stomach.”

Deer broth. 

Fine.

You nod.

“All right,” you murmur, “I can help.”

* * * * *

The broth was ready before midnight. Preparing it took far longer than anticipated—hours. You fell asleep a few times during the process, your fatigue winning out, but by the time it’s done and the warm liquid touches your lips, it’s worth it.

Not only does a bit of warmth return to your body, but the taste alone—you shut your eyes. You tuck yourself into a corner of the kitchen, savouring it.

“My Lady.” Ren’s cool voice breaks the spell, and your eyes reluctantly open. “I was looking for you. I wanted to see if you needed anything before I retired for the night.”

“No, thank you,” you reply, a soft hum of warmth still lingering in your belly despite Ren’s increasingly distant demeanour. “Where’s Sayuri? Is she asleep?”

Perhaps Sukuna and she are fucking.

Ren shifts on her feet, agitated.

“She’s unwell, my Lady,” she says tightly.

That has you rising to your feet and glancing at Uraume, who has returned to cutting up the body on the floor.

“Has she eaten?” you ask Ren.

“I’m unsure, my Lady.”

Setting down your broth, you move to fill another bowl.

“Can you show me where her room is?”

Another hallway, another door. Door after door after door. You realize you’ve never been near the attendants’ quarters. It’s eerily quiet, but that’s only because of the time of night.

Reaching the end of the passage, Ren turns and bows in front of a nondescript wooden door. The bend of her neck flashes as she remains forward far too long, leaving you uneasy. When she finally raises her head, her eyes burrow into you, making you recoil. She says nothing before retreating down the hall, disappearing into one of the rooms.

Bowl in hand, you knock gently on Sayuri's door.

Knock, knock.

The two soft taps echo.

Silence.

When she doesn’t answer, you hesitate.

With your fingers gripping the edge of the ceramic, you carefully slide the door open and peer inside. The room is small and sparsely furnished but warm and comforting.

You step inside.

“Sayuri? How are you feeling?” you call softly, stepping closer to the small futon. The dim light of a lantern flickers, casting shadows on the walls. “I brought something that might help you feel better.”

Crouching beside her, you set the warm broth on the floor. Tucked beneath the sheets, she doesn’t move at first. Her dark hair spills across her face; for a moment, you wonder if she’s asleep.

Then, slowly, she rolls over to face you.

Your brow furrows.

Her brown eyes are red and bloodshot, sinking like stones as they drop from your face down, down to the haori you’re wearing—Sukuna’s haori.

Your heart spirals as you realize you may have just undone the fragile bridge you’d mended with her days ago. But then her lips curve into a smile.

“Thank you,” she says, picking up the dish with soft, trembling hands. “I needed this.”

She doesn’t take a sip. She doesn’t even look at it. Instead, she holds your gaze.

Suddenly, the room feels too small, too close. Wanting to escape, you rise to your feet, weary bones creaking.

You head for the door, your hand already on the frame, but something makes you glance over your shoulder.

How are you feeling?

You blink. Shaking away the past, shaking away the memories of seven years ago.

“Good night, Sayuri.”

“Good night, my Lady.”

* * * * *

🔗 Chapter 13

[kentocalls]

the morning after | ryomen sukuna nsfw. spicy. lots of pet names. oral, p in v. probably ooc cuz i like my men sweet. part 1

he's up before the sun, a tight hold on your form, cheek squished into his shoulder. mind blank, washes the deep blue sky turn orange, your head twitches, tries to shuffle away from the light. that's the moment he allows himself to be free from your warm body. wanders around your bedside, drags the curtains forward until the sun is blocked from annoying your face. pads over to your bathroom, collecting his shoes and belt, he's got plenty on his plate. figures a slice of toast and he's off.

he notices a very captialized 'grocery list' with messy writing before opening the refridgerator to be met with one unopened jar of cherry jam. one smoke and then he's off.

eyes taking in the street you live on, questioning the structural integretiy of your balcony before he spots a 'grocery mart.'

-

your head hurts. no amount of rolling around the bed is going to rid the vibrating pain dancing in your skull. you blink open your eyes and shuffle your body upright. a shower, a nice warm shower and something to settle your gut. you spot two pills and a glass of water next to your charging phone and whoa. late night drunk you is such a smart gal. you thank her for good decisions and promise not to dwell on the rest.

heavy steps to your bathroom and a nice warm stream of water hits your face. his face flashs in your mind, his deep voice "tired?" you groan, the hottest man on earth was in your place and you were too sleepy to do anything. you're not sore, no aches or marks. minus the headache thats fading.

you slip out, dry your skin, use your favorite lotion, wash your face dilgently. and shake your head at your reflection; sighing. "didn't even ask his name!" you have a soft white robe on, know you're low on laundry and head to your kitchen.

and he's still there.

nods at your stool and places a slice of toast and orange juice in front of you. he's on the phone, talking loudly and you're too caught up in the fact that he's still here. take a bite of the bread, a sip of juice. when did you buy this?

"i've got company." hangs up instantly, eyes taking in your very clean face. you look better than earlier. he kinda hates. knows he should leave but there you are with a "thank you, for last night and breakfast."

so polite.

toast hardly counts as food. but your diety habits are not his concern. he nods, another name on his phone screen distracting him. you're not fiddling with your hands, you finish the toast, drink the juice start to clean the plates and inspect the bread. when did you buy this?

"it's been nice." he leans against the counter, sincere with his words. he needed the rest, feels refreshed and ready to haggle at tiny men in suits.

it should be awkward now, as you're supposed to shuffle out of his way and he leaves without looking back but you're frowning. take a step towards him, head slightly tilted up. "you didn't even kiss me."

he chuckles, shaking his head "don't kiss one night stands." keeps the word angel at the tip of his tongue.

"but it's the morning now." you counter, inching forward. tilting your head to the side, confused and hopeful. he isn't sure if you've fully sobered up. the scent of your clean skin close. he's tempted.

you're being bold, moving closer, your robe meeting his very fine silky clothes, his hands find your hips but he doesn't stop you. you're not going to find someone like him again, that's what you say when you push onto your tip-toes inching closer.

his lips brush yours before he's moved away, noses at your neck. "nope." fine, fine, fine. you won't kiss his lips, settle for a his collarbone. he pulls you closer, lifting you up a bit.

sukuna is absolutely sure your countertop cannot support the weight of two people. and he has time, he doesn't need to be at his meetings until noon. you pull him to your bedroom, his eyes on your thighs ; can't wait to bite and grip.

"no kissing, got it. can i leave a mark here? please." your fingers burn at his neck. so fucking polite, has him nodding along, hand already under your loosely tied robe as he takes in your scent.

feels you smile against him, feels your soft lips and wet tongue and teeth grazing. "please fuck me before you go."

yeah, he has time for this.

hands on your bare skin, he kisses down your neck, down your chest, nuzzles as your stomach before continuing down down down and the way your body shudders but he never reaches the destination.

comes right back up, latches onto nipple and sucks, bites, teases. pinches your other breast with his thumb and index finger, alternating until you're begging for more. no matter your babbling he doesn't let up, heat coiling inside you but the man isn't in a hurry. "please," fuck what is his name? you try to remember when he told you, last night, it was sultry the way he said it. "please su...sukuna..."

that has his attention, loves the way it sounds. "already close?" you whine in protest, "what, need you to say what you want." "please touch me, please." you know he already is, but it gets his hands moving to your hips and thighs and his thumb faintly brushes your clit, has you gasping. calling his names, eyes pleading and he likes it.

sukuna wants to hear more, has his lips trailing wet, hot, messy down again until he latches on where you want him and nothing is keeping him away from you now.

and despite all the moaning and gasping you're still polite. still formulating sentences. you don't need to ask him but gosh your voice rings a sinful alarm, "please, can I touch your hair?"

has him silently promising to ruin every other guy for you, kissing your wrist, he places your hand on his head, comes up to adjust an arm around your hips, spreading you open. "you'll be good now right? stay open like this, no pulling."

he's about to lean in but hasn't heard the crescendo of yes falling past your lips so he pauses. your hips try to push up unsuccessfully but that's not enough affirmation. waits for your eyes to land on his, "yes?"

"yes please." "you want this?" "yes yes, please sukuna, want this. please. thank you" so polite, so very polite. he hasn't even started and you're already such a mess. twitching and shaking. tongue laps at your wet heat. so sweet, so warm, so eager.

"perfect."

+

first it was his tongue, then a thumb brusing your clit so slowly while he sucked new marks down your chest. and now he has you spreading open on two fingers. insistent you need three to take him, he's not here to hurt you.

you pull at his shirt, need to feel his skin against yours. his tattoos peak out and set another fire in your belly. how the fuck is he so perfect? "can i touch here too please? can i scratch?"

too polite, you're too polite, pushes his skin closer to yours, your hands delicate at first then nails digging deep, dragging him in. pulling him close.

and you're such a good girl, leaving chaste kisses on his jawline, down his neck. not trying to kiss him, not trying to rush him. he can hear his phone ringing the kitchen, falling off the counter and he's not leaving now.

he finally slips in a third, reminds you to breathe, when it's shaky his face finds yours. "too much?"

"it's...ah, it's good. thank you." and if he kisses the corner of your mouth it's cuz he's pulling you higher, adjusts your position. it's not on purpose. he doesn't need to know how soft your lips are.

now with three he moves even slower, the stretch burns and he's so fucking deep. your fingers are never going to reach this far. you moan into his neck, scratch down his back, your hips bucking up. but the pace is still slow, you can feel his heat on your leg. why the fuck does he have such good control?

"now? please, i-ah, i-'m so..." wet, messy, ready. he curls his fingers up, brushing purposefuly on that bundle of nerves and you're biting into his shoulder. legs twitching, body shaking, a flush going down your face and neck and all he does is whipser perfect into your ear over and over again. until you see stars.

+

are you breathing? sukuna's hand is on your stomach, "deep breaths angel, there you go." watches your eyes flutter back open, kisses your forehead, your temple, your jawline and chin. let's you orient back to the room, back to him. your hand finally releases it's tight grip on his arm. "ready?"

"can..." you swallow drly, "can I please have water?" you're ready to hear a soon or just one more. know there's a limit to how tender and paitent a partner can be. he's made you cum four times now and feel so fucking good.

you don't realize he slipped away until he's back, helps you sit up, cool glass of liquid at your lips, your hand on his wrist looks comincally small. when you're done he takes a quick sip himself, catches your eyes watching him.

and it's too soft, the way he thumbs at your cheek, concerned. it's not needed, you feel very present and very ready. "i have condoms somewhere..." you start

he scoffs.

"you do now" he points at a box sitting on your nightstand, you don't recognize it. when did you get this?

he holds a packet with his teeth, his hands reaching for his slacks, you stop him "let me, let me please."

you do your best to move your hands at a normal place, but it looks eager anyways, has him smirking, dropping the condom packet into your palm as you do a very perfect job of not looking nervous at the girth or length of his dick.

you get why he insisted on three fingers, he grabs a pillow and places it behind you, "lay back."

"yes yes yes, thank you." as you watch him lean forward, muscles moving in a coordinated dance, rubs himself through the wet of your previous release. you both moan.

he still. takes. his. time.

moves his cock up and down your pussy lips, touching your sensitive nub, driving you insane. your hips buck up at nothing, want more friction, need him inside you.

"please, please, you're so close, please."

"please what angel?"

"put it inside, please fuck me."

and he's not slow when he does, that chant of 'thank you' will be embarassing tomorrow because everything feels right now. he's so big, you're stuffed so full and he's moving at such brutal pace.

you want to hold out longer, you're already so sensitive, you're biting your lips, trying to find purchase on his back, nails deep scratching, biting at his neck.

his name mixed with your please and thank you is putting him in a trance.

you're impossibly tight. sukuna's thrusting faster than he wanted, harder than he wanted. had planned a build up, wanted to make you beg over and over but he's already there. pulling him deep, gripping him tight. the sounds echoing in off the bedroom walls are filthy.

"so good for me, so perfect for me."

"told..ah, told you..." you're slipping, the familiar twitch in your hips, you're close again and he hasn't even cum once, has he? "with you, please, please, together please? sukuna please."

he picks up the pace, the hand on your hip will leave a bruise, the lovebites on your body glow red. he's so close, "with me, look at me, come on angel." you're both so close, hips rolling to match his thrusts.

your lips are so plush, mouth open a silent scream pushes you over the edge as he follows. hips stuttering, grinding, heavy. he let's his weight fall on you, hand grips the back of your neck and brings your lips to his.

so fucking soft, so willing. he pulls off to catch a breath, spit connecting your lips and silently you trail after his lips, he kisses you slowly. moves his hips slowly, still hungry, ready to feel you again. "thank you sukuna" you say between broken kisses, your eyes lidded, body heavy, just like last night.

too trusting when your body softens against him, too vulnerable when you nuzzle into his neck, another whisper of "thank you." and you have to be his. no one can hear you like this, see you like this. no one can touch your skin like he does, no one can know how absolutely etheral you are drifting off to sleep.

his lips dance over your face, he whispers "mine" into your temple, into the crook of your neck, at the center of your chest, above your sore nipples, into your bellybutton, above your sensitive clit, down your legs and he sits on his up.

comitting you to memory won't be enough.

he'll do this again. and again. and again.

+

part 3

[idontknowanametouse]

Nobara Kugisaki headcanons because I love her

[ID: a picture of the Jujutsu Kaisen's first ending with Nobara Kugisaki kicking a door open, her arms wide open while she holds 4 shopping bags, two on each hand. She wears an aqua green t-shirt under a white overalls with short pants, with a small bag tresspassing her shoulder and dark blue shoes with red shoelaces. Her expression is happy and her hair is tied in two high buns. The background behind the door is yellow and the rest of it is red. End of description]

She is part mexican from her father's (and grandma's) side of the family with indigenous heritage!

She is trans! And also a lesbian! And has killed terfs with her hammer!

Saori was her trans and gay awakening

She is chubby! She tells fuck you to whoever says anyshit about her body!

She is disabled and uses a cane on her right side! She normally won't use it on Jujutsu High because there aren't very long distances she needs to go through in the campus, but she will use it on training and outside

She is autistic and has hiperactivity!

Her favorite colors are pink and orange

She loves roses, specially pink ones

Her parents are... not great. That's part of the reason she spent so much time at her grandma's house during her childhood

Her grandma was the best mother figure she had, but she didn't have a father figure... until she went to Jujutsu High. She started seeing father figures in Nanami and Gojo, even though she didn't realize it

She keeps in contact with Fumi every week

She and Maki are hanging out and thinking of starting to date! They've already kissed!

She has a love-hate relationship with Mai, but they end up bonding over their passion for fashion

Yuji is her best friend and they are basically siblings in every way possible

Nobara got a bit jealous when he and Megumi started dating, but she eventually overcame that feeling

After her fight with Mahito (yes, she is alive. No, I take no criticism) she gained an eyepatch with a heart on it and shaved the left side of her head because that part of her scalp got really fucked up

Her taste in music varies between Taylor Swift and Avril Lavigne, and her taste in clothing varies from a bubblegum pop style to this:

[ID: a picture showing from someone's shoulders to a region right above their knees. They has pale skin and is wearing a sleeveless black shirt with a pink skull with crossed bones on it, fingerless gloves gloves with a fishnet stocking material under fingerless black gloves with a blurred white sign over it, a pink and black checkered skirt with black hips and something that seems like black pants, shorts or pantyhose, but the picture cuts it on this part. End of description]

Nobara is actually afraid of needles, but she'd rather die than let anyone know that

She likes sewing! In fact, before deciding to be a Jujutsu sorcerer, she wanted to be a designer

She loves doing make up and hairstyles on herself and others

She has an entire collection of stim toys, including, but not limited to: chewing necklaces, spinners, glitter pots, squeezing balls for anxiety, magic cubes, plushies and lava lamps!

She slapped Sukuna once and it was one of the most gratifying experiences in her life

[astral-from-afar]

Im so sorry Yorozu I can side with you being obsessed and wanting to marry your opponent after you win as I support women’s rights and wrongs but SUKUNA. Come on what is this man’s redeeming qualities.

Like Kenjaku’s got that determination and serves numerous looks. Uruame is chill (pun intentded) and is a great chef. Tengen can create domains of whatever you want so you can go on your dates.Uro would literally sweep you of your feet. What does Sukuna have. His skull collection. Boring.

[yuu3585]

𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐎𝐜𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐜𝐡. 𝟐 - 𝐒𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝

Backstory: Lead to the shrine of the king of curse, Tsumi encounters a coming fear of just what she’ll face at his hands

Pairing: …

Ch.1

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: Blood, murder, Sukuna (it’s Sukuna he needs a warning), name-calling, oc x canon, DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT!

Extra:

----

The snow crunched as Tsumi stepped, the curse was quiet as they walked, not talking like she was to Dai. Tsumi thought it was weird shouldn’t Sukuna collect his Sacrifices? Or was this curse close to him in some manner, and if so how close to Sukuna was she a servant, or maybe even his love?

“You're falling behind”

Tsumi's head shot up at the curse's sudden voice, she was indeed falling behind the curse was a good ten feet away from her “I-I’m sorry” Tsumi apologized quickly walking up to the curse, “Don’t let it happen again…” Tsumi hummed as the curse hissed, before stepping ahead, Tsumi sighed as cold winter air nipped at her, gripping her cover-up tighter for a bit of warmth

“Tsumi, correct?” the curse asked, her pink eyes looking back, “Y-yes” Tsumi answered, the curse hummed looking away from Tsumi as she shivered “My name is Ahmya, I’m one of the two heads of Master Sukuna’s servants'' Ahmya spoke, her name was seemingly nice. Tsumi nods as she looks forward, eyes staring at the snow falling onto the ground… “We’ll be at the shrine soon, don't fall behind!” Ahmya informs voice harsh, Tsumi hums nodding her head

----

Ahmya was right about being at the shrine soon. It was big, looking like the mouth of a skull–colors of black, gray, and dark red–with the color of the white snow on top of it. Ahmya pushed open the large shrine doors gesturing to Tsumi inside, “Follow” Ahmya ordered as she closed the door. Tsumi nodded following close behind Ahmya her aura strong, as they passed by two curses

The curses were pale, paler than Tsumi was both had rusty red hair. “Look, a new human!” one teased, the other laughed. It was horrifying, echoing in Tsumi's ears, Ahmya groaned rolling her eyes at the two “Come, Sukuna must be informed of the changes” Tsumi hummed, eyes looking back at the curses they smiled sinisterly, waving before disappearing. Tsumi shivered before looking back in front of her

As the two walked, Ahmya stopped in front of two large doors engraved with beautiful patterns. Ahmya raised her hand ready to knock, but before she could it opened, a white hair person stepped out their eyes met Ahmya, and bowed before stepping aside two women walked out bodies barely covered with their kimonos barely even on, Tsumi turned away gripping her Kimono tightly uncomfortable, they were concubine’s

One of the two women looked over at Tsumi, she had tan skin, her hair was Raven black, and her eyes were chocolate brown. She smiled, waving slightly before walking off with the other concubine, her hair was a dark orange color, and she seemed quite young but way older than Tsumi “Come” Ahmya ordered bowing at the white-haired person, Tsumi did the same as she walked past them. The Chamber was large, and the dark only light was the few amounts of torches that dimly lit the chamber, Ahmya stopped getting down onto her knees and bowed

Tsumi, realizing what was going on, quickly got onto her knees bowing. A low groan filled Tsumi ear’s “Ahmya…” the voice echoed throughout the chamber “Yes my Lord?” Ahmya answered, “Who is this…?” the voice asked, anger seeping from his lips. Ahmya breathes before answering

“This is the Ito clan’s sacrifice… Tsumi. She took her sister's place, my lord!” Ahmya explained a hum left the Lord's lips. “Ahmya you may leave” he spoke, Tsumi froze fear creeping into her mind “Yes my Lord” Ahmya answered, she stood up, bowed and lefted the wooden door echoing as it shut. Tsumi shook as she could hear the breaths of the man Ahmya was talking to “Raise your head.” he ordered, Tsumi raised her head eyes not looking anywhere but at the ground

“You're quite obedient, scared like a little lamb.” He said, voice harsh as he spoke, Tsumi didn't speak fear consuming her. “What should I do with you…?” he questioned, he thought for a moment, the chamber went silent as he thought “Uraume!” he shouted, the white-haired person from earlier entered the chamber, and they bowed before leaning up “Yes, Lord Sukuna,” Uraume says voice monotone, “Take her to the servant chambers,” Sukuna says, Uraume bows “Come” they order, Tsumi stands bowing to Sukuna before following after Uraume

The walk is quiet, with barely any sound other than the laughs of a few women, in one of the three rooms they pass “This is the servant chambers,” Uraume says stopping, Tsumi raises her head, looking to Uraume. “Thank you!” Tsumi says bowing slightly, Uraume hums sliding the door open, Tsumi breathes before stepping past Uraume, through the door. It slides shut signing to Uraume's departure

The chamber was larger than the Ito clan's servant chambers, and warm, it's nice on Tsumi's cold skin “I wonder what’s in store for me here?” Tsumi questions. Ocean blue eyes scan the room, a noise from behind Tsumi snaps her out of her thoughts. It was another servant, her hair was a chocolate brown color, her eyes met Tsumi's, they were emerald green “H-hello…” Tsumi says waving slightly, “Uraume told me to give you this…” she says, stepping toward Tsumi, it's another kimono.

It’s white with blue stitched into it, “here I’ll wait for you outside!” she says bowing before she leaves, Tsumi smiles before she undresses. Quickly removing her blue kimono, Tsumi puts the other one on. Tsumi breathed before sliding the door open the servant from earlier was standing a few feet away from the door, “Follow” she said softly, Tsumi slid the door shut following the woman “You’ll be in charge of mopping up Sukuna’s meeting room with humans,” she says looking back at Tsumi “Alright” Tsumi answered smiling a little “Other than that you’ll clean whatever Uraume or Ahmya tells you to!”

Tsumi hums, “Sukunas in a meeting with someone I suggest getting a bucket…” The woman murmured “A-alright…”

----

The air felt denser, it wasn’t warm in this part of the shrine. Tsumi breathes as she sets the bucket down. A noise catches her attention from inside the room. It seems to be yelling, the voice sounds scared, Tsumi snaps her head back at the sound of footsteps. The two rusty red haired curses from earlier come into her view, they stare at her. “You're Tsumi right?” One asked, stepping closer to Tsumi he was a foot or so taller than her,

“Ahmya said not to bother the servants, Reiki!” Tsumi is caught off guard by the sudden voice, “Thanks for reminding me Daiki!” Reiki mocked turning to the curse which was called Daiki, Tsumi is tense for a moment as the two seemingly twin curses stare at one another. But they are different Reiki the one closest to Tsumi has black streaks in his hair while Daiki has white, and their kimonos are different as well Reiki wears a black, and red kimono, while Daiki wears a red and white one

A scream breaks the silence of the three causing Tsumi to jump a little, Daiki walks up to Reiki grabbing his shoulder “We should leave!” Reiki rolls his eyes “Let us go, bye Tsumi!” He mumbles waving as they both walk away, Tsumi's knees shake as she hears the sliding door open turning fast she bows, it’s Sukuna he steps out of the room sliding the door closed before he steps away

Tsumi raises her head sensing that Sukuna is gone, she sighs standing up, and grabs the bucket before sliding the door open, she almost drops the bucket choking on her breath. Looking away Tsumi sets the bucket down covering her mouth, stopping herself from throwing up. The site before her was sadistic, a man’s body was scattered across the room, his blood covered the floor and the wall closest to the door. Tsumi grasps for air, coughing harshly

Her eyes scan the room, turning to the bucket Tsumi sighs bending down, and grabs the sponge. Tsumi turned keeping her head down, staring at the blood-stained floor

----

Tsumi roughly scrubbed away at the last remaining blood, her hands lightly stained scarlet red… she had been at the murderous scene for a while, and the sun seemed to set, Tsumi sighed as the last stain of blood blurred away. Tsumi breathed dropping the sponge into the blood water bucket, stretching her arms Tsumi stood grabbing the bucket before exiting the room sliding the door shut, eyes lingering where the body of that man once was

The wind of winter blew harshly against Tsumi's skin as she emptied the bucket, snow fell landing on her blonde braided hair that lay lazily on her back. A rough voice filled Tsumi's ears as she stepped back into the shrine shivering slightly

“I want her somewhere else Uraume!”

“As you wish my lord…”

Tsumi stood still listening quietly, what was going on? What was Lord Sukuna talking about with Uraume? Who was she? Tsumi moved quietly from her spot trying not to alert Sukuna or Uraume that she was there

“You may leave Uraume…!”

Sukuna ordered his voice echoing in Tsumi's ears, she heard a shift before the sound of footsteps echoed through the hall outside the room she was in. Trying to gain some confidence to move forward, Tsumi hears the door of the room she was in slide open.

Tsumi's knees buckled under herself, fear filling her mind quickly she dropped to her knees staring at her scarlet-stained hands

“Seems there’s a lamb, not asleep!”

Sukuna mocked, laughing cruelly as the door slid shut, Tsumi's breath caught in her throat as she bowed to Sukuna, “Raise your head!” Sukuna ordered his voice unpleasant to the ringing in her ears, hesitantly Tsumi raised her head avoiding to stare at Sukuna’s face

“Look at me!” Sukuna ordered again, voice harsh, Tsumi hesitantly looked up, eyes locked with Sukuna’s. Four scarlet red eyes stare back. Tsumi froze in fear, eyes widen as she took in his looks

He was large in a sense, four arms crossed in front of his chest and stomach. Tsumi's eyes looked up at his face, it was covered in markings, she shuddered as her eyes stared at a wooden-like mask that covered the right side of his face. Sukuna smirked as Tsumi stared at him

“Servants are supposed to be in their chambers by sundown…” Sukuna said his voice low, Tsumi tensed up at his words, “I-I’m sorry my lord…” Tsumi apologizes, pressing her head to the ground, “I-it won’t happen again… I promise my lord!” Tsumi explains, her body beginning to shake. Sukuna stares down at Tsumi eyes lingering on her tense form

“You may leave…” Sukuna ordered, Tsumi raises her head shocked “Have a good night my lord…”

Tsumi stands up quickly, avoiding Sukuna eyes as she walks past him, letting out a shaky breath she steps out of the room sliding the door behind her shut

----

Divider credit - Sweetyparty

[demonbanger]

Ty for tagging me @meowzfordayz <3

Nicknames: Energizer Bunny, muscle mommy, the goat, [redacted]

Sign: Pisces ☀️ Aquarius 🌙 Libra ⬆️

Height: 4’9.5”

Last thing I googled: Why do people have foot fetishes

Last song stuck in my head: Kill Bill by SZA

Number of followers: (110 x 9) + 7 = shocking bc I’m not active enough on here

Amount of sleep: bad sleep , 6-7 hours scattered

Lucky number: 7 or angel numbers

Dream jobs: lead fashion designer, business founder

Favorite song: idk my music taste changes like the tide but I like fire force season 1 closing song

Favorite instruments: Cello (used to play), harp

Aesthetic: whimsical maximalism (colorful, cyberpunk, goth, tropical, boho, any decade, fantasy, list goes on….)

Favorite author: Tolkien

Random fun fact: I really like sharp things & skulls & flames. My nails, eye brows, facial features, eyeliner, jewelry, canines, everything has to be sharp and lethal. I have a collection of over 5 spiked black chokers and all of them are different and beloved. If you get punched by my purse you’ll also get impaled most likely

I tag @monaukah @putridsimp @sukunas-play-thing (no pressure loves)

thank you for tagging me @cookiefics. resetting the post bc it’s getting long

tagging if they wanna join!: @meowzfordayz @milkyfab @maaarshieee

Keep reading

[skunaskitten]

A Witch and her Daemon

Paring: Sukuna x you female 18+

Summary: Being a witch has its perks, it also comes with people trying to kill you. So you made a pact, a deal with a cursed deamon to protect you, but in return you give him the souls from victims. Over time having this pact had turned into a bond between you and the daemon. Now the both of you are inseparable.

Warnings: death, murder, smut, four armed sukuna, grumpy protective sukuna, mouth hand, stomach mouth, demon body guard sukuna,

Halloween/ kinktober < master list

Main stories < master list

You were the most feared witch in this modern time, well not the world but at least around Japan you are. Everyone knows of demons, curses and creatures. Behind your normal human form you were a witch behind closed doors. A separate room in your home behind a book case you had a whole room for your craft. Shelves full of books, herbs and decor. Animal skulls through the room along with animals in jars or glass cases. This is where you felt more safe even with curse objects, feeling safer here than the outside world.

You were not the friendliest witch you picked and chose who lives and dies. It was easier for you since you didn't look like a threat being a woman to some people you were easy prey. But that was a way to lure them to you for the kill. Some men would follow if you walked by them or if you get their attention then when they think they have the upper hand. You use the powers of a witch, a sorcerer and cursed powers. They stood no chance and maybe they should have left you alone and not prey on women.

You wanted to add more things to your collection of cursed objects so you set off your journey to the underground of the witch community. Going through the dark sketchy lonely abandoned building that had a hidden door in the basement. The only way witches know where to go is the symbols they recognize. You smirked at the wall and pushed it open to slip inside and went down a tight brick  hallway through a metal door. 

The sounds of people filled the market. You smiled seeing the haze smoke covering parts of the underground from spells and incense. Walking through seeing the things that were being sold. You found some more crystals for your spells and protection, herbs to use for your tea or spells. Then you walked further down deeper seeing items get more demonic. Items of  dried out animal parts and creatures in jars are parts used for magic. You looked around seeing the sellers trying to coax you into buying things. As you walked something was drawing you to a certain direction sensing a strong energy near the back where less people were.

An old woman with jeweled rings on her fingers and crystal chains around her neck, her snowy white hair and her sparkling blue eyes looked at you. She questioned why you had stopped in her direction. You just told her that you had stopped right there cause you were drawn to something. Its energy was calling you over. The woman chuckled and pulled out a velvet bag that she untied revealing an old wooden box with something carved on top.

You looked at it and gasped seeing it. You could sense the energy coming from it. She smiled and opened it showing what was inside. A finger that was a wine color with a pointed dark finger nail. Across the finger had the texture of growing plants from it. The lady gave you an amused look and pushed the box telling you to take it. Looking at her with wide eyes. Why would she just give it to you with no payment? "Take it dear. He wants to be with you. Name of ryomen sukuna."

You picked up the box into your hands as she said "dear what is that behind you I saw someone calling you." Your brows furrowed then turned around to see no one confused about what she was talking about. When you turned around she was gone and there were less people here now. You placed the box into your backpack looking around and left the underground. As soon as you got home you went straight to your witch room and pulled out the finger. 

You smiled and looked at it, studying the details of it and then placed it on your table. "Ryomen sukuna. Never heard of you. Just be good then." When you went to sleep that night you heard noises coming from your room. You sat up growling annoyed that it was probably one of the spirits you have around here. "Go to bed." You laid back down then heard more noises. That when you saw him for the first time.

You sat up in your bed and flipped on your light and saw the figure in your room. His pink fluffy hair and muscular back with black tattoos along it. "Who are you?" You could feel the energy from him as he turned, seeing him hold the finger you got. "Hello my dear you have my finger." When he turned fully to you that was when your heart beating faster and your world stopped.

Now here you are months later head laid back into your pillow eyes rolled into your skull moaning and panting. With sukuna between your legs pounding into your soaking folds. The tip of his cock pushing onto your good spot inside of you. Your legs wrapped around him and nails digging into his forearms. "You like this my little slut." A moan of his name came out from you followed with a loud yes. He chuckled with a smirk holding onto your hips with his second pair of arms. 

He always made you cum multiple times in one night either with his cock or his mouths. Sukuna had a rough way of saying that he actually likes you. He always warns you that you are just a play thing to him and a source to find his fingers. On the other hand here he was holding you close to him in bed after rutting his cock into you. 

The moments you would get hurt from fighting he had enough power to heal you and you thanked him every time he did. Sometimes he will tell you to shut up or just stay quiet. Sukuna deep down did have feelings  for you which was weird to him he never was this close to a human. Yet you were here laying in his arms asleep.

He has already consumed many souls from the people the both of you had killed. Soon the both of you were starting the story of rumors, a witch and her demon lover. When the both of you kill off an enemy sukuna would grab your face and give you a deep kiss. He was starting to like the rumors just to send the fear in people, to look out for the spirits. Sometimes getting into a heated makeout then when you got home he pins you against the wall.

Picking you up into his lower arms then stripping off your clothes with his other pair of hands while he humps against you. Making you feel his hardened shaft through his kimono as his lips latch to your neck already making you wet and moaning his name. When the both of you got to the bed you will get in different positions just to feel him deep in you everytime and you loved every mouth he formed.

 When he got his finger he formed a belly mouth and you went crazy. He loved to crush peoples heads with it and made you watch the scene that you found interesting to see the power of that mouth crushing skulls. A favorite thing you loved to do was riding his stomach. Placing your soaked cunt to his abs the mouth will form under you and start to eat you. To feel the wet fat, and a large warm tongue slide across your folds as you bucked your hips. So much stimulation on your clit from his thumb and the tongue going inside or around you made you cum more than once. He ate you raw and you loved it. He just loves the taste, telling you the taste of honey.

With all this time you spent with sukuna your heart developed more feelings than just a demon deal. You started to fall for him. Hating it when he had to disappear for a while when you went out into the world on a normal day to go shopping or meeting up with friends. You will sometimes daydream about him being here getting sad but he will speak to you letting you know he was always here.

You had to tell him your feelings and you could not hold them back any longer. As you lay in bed staring off into the distance of your room, you begin to call out sukuna. All you heard was a chuckle and felt him sit on the bed by your feet. "What does my darling want now?" "Sukuna can you lay down with me?" He sighed and ripped the blanket off you then flopped his body down beside you. "What do you want now? You know I don't cuddle or do those useless things." He says that but like a thousand times before he always did.

You didn't care about his comment, you nuzzled against him and threw your arms around him. Sukuna froze then looked at you. "Sukuna, can I talk to you?"  He hummed as you bit your lip hiding your face in his neck. "I really care about you more than I should. I thought having you here was just going to be another spirit. But you came to be more than that to me. Is there a way to be in a pact with you? To give my life to you. I don't want you to leave."

Sukuna laid there not knowing what to say he never had anyone give themselves to him they always betray him. "So you wish to be loyal to me. Selling your soul to me." You looked up to him saying "if it means I get to be with you then yes." He looked at you in shock, not expecting you to give your soul to him. "Why do you wish to be with me? I am a demon. All I will do is keep you trapped in my domain." You smiled and kissed his chest. "I don't mind if I get to have a life with you and all the sex." 

Sukuna let out a growl then flipped you onto your back staring into your eyes. "You are not telling me the truth now speak." Looking at him in shock you stared up in his eyes then breathed out a sigh. "Sukuna…do you feel for me?" He titled his head questioning you. You reached your hands up his chest then put your arms around his neck pulling him down smashing your lips to his. "Fuck me."

Ryomen removed his kimono leaving him bare to you. You wasted no time to strip down to nothing to feel his bare skin on yours and you loved it. Spreading your legs open for him, sukuna smirked and latched his lips to your neck. "If you wish to serve me then beg for me." "Yes sukuna please give it to me."

He let out a lustful growl and sucked on your neck and trailed his lips down your body to suckle on your breast. His tongue swirling around your nipples as he placed a hand over your other breast forming a mouth on the palm. Moans and gasps of his name left you and your hands played with his hair. He placed a hand between your legs forming another mouth. Feeling the tongue and sucking on your cunt the wetness that drooled from it already. 

Your hips bucked against his hand as he looked at you and plunged two of his fingers into your hole and curled them across your velvet walls. "Come on darling. Let me hear you beg for me." "Sukuna! Yes please! I want your cock!" He chuckled, removing his fingers then placed them into his mouth getting a taste of you. He grabbed his shaft pumping it and slid his tip over your folds making you whimper.

"You want it darling. Want my fat cock deep inside you?" You whined again then wrapped your legs around him pulling him closer to you feeling his tip push against your opening. "Sukuna my demon please. Make me yours take me." He chuckled and placed his lips to yours deepening the kiss and slipped his tongue into your mouth as he pushed his hips sliding his tip into you.

"Sukuna give it to me." A smirk formed on his face and said "oh you want my cock. Feel how you make it throb." Sukuna pushed his hips, his shaft going into you deep with every inch you felt. Sukuna formed his second set of arms and held your wrist over your head. He began to thrust his hips, the mushroom tip sliding across your walls. 

You squirmed under his body wanting him to go faster and harder as he moved slowly into you watching you with a smirk seeing you being torture from how slow he was going. "Whats the matter sweet heart? Do you want me to stop?" He moved a hand to circle his thumb on your clit as you bucked your hips trying to feel the friction inside of you. "Ryomen please I want you hard and fast. Make me scream your name."

Hearing a dark chuckle from him as he pulled out and slammed back into you with force making you yelp. He pounded into you like you asked one set of arms holding your hips and the other let go of your wrist to squeeze at the rest of your body. Hearing the rain outside and your bed creak with each of his powerful thrust with sounds of your pants and moans filling the room. Sukuna moves to fold your legs over getting deep in you as you felt his tip pound against the good spot inside you.

"Yes sukuna right there. Fuck don't stop!" He let out a deep growl mixed with a grunt feeling your walls tighten around his cock trying to swallow more of him. His cock swelled inside of you, feeling him even more bigger. You loved every moment with him, every feeling of him. You can't bear to let him go or set him free, you just want him with you. Feeling so selfish you promised to set him free but you can't. As you watched him slam his cock into you your eyes filled with tears feeling your womb clench and flutter.

Your hands went into his hair giving a light tug at his pink strands then moved them to rake your nails across his shoulders. He grunted and closed his eyes, his thrust becoming into a rut. You threw your head back feeling the bliss hit you and screamed his name over and over. Sukuna felt your wet walls clamp around his swollen cock leaving a cream ring around the base of his shaft. The top pair of arms trapping your head between them and hands gripped the pillow while his lower hands held your legs apart. 

His thrust was sloppy and pounded one last hard thrust releasing his seed into you, filling you up. Sukuna leaned down feeling himself cum and bit your neck thrusting out your orgasm hearing you yell. After he stopped hearing you breath hard he licked at your wound cleaning the blood and placed soft kisses to your neck. You kept your eyes closed hearing the thunder outside and felt him pull out. He carefully laid on you keeping his face into your neck as your eyes filled with tears. 

Sukuna moved away from you looking down at the mess he had put you in with a smirk on his face but then it faded when he saw the tears in your eyes. Thinking he had hurt you but he thought why should he care, you are just a pawn using you to get souls to get enough power to be free, so why was he worried? "What happened couldn't take my cock?" You shook your head and turned away from him, his lower arms disappearing. "What is your problem then?!"

"You are my problem. Cause I love you!" His eyes widened but his face stayed neutral. You knew he didn't care your lip quivered and turned your back to him as he laid behind you. "Do you know who and what I am? I do not love darling. I am here to be set free and have some fun." You felt your heart clench and break from his words you are nothing to him. "Then take your finger and leave me alone so you can find someone else to help you."

You moved to throw the finger you kept with you as a promise to give to him when he was fully powered. The final thing to set him free. He watched the finger hit his chest  then looked at you. "Why are you being a brat when you knew the deal?" "I don't care about the deal anymore. All I care about is you. I love my time with you and I don't want it to end. That is why I wanted to give you my life." Sukuna looked at your back so confused about what he was feeling in his chest. 

You were the only one that cared for him even enough to break a deal with a demon like himself just to stay with him longer. "You should not want a demon like me." You turned around and threw your arms around him then smashed your lips to his. He didn't react in time but somehow he melted into your kiss. You pulled away looking at him and cupped his cheek. "Ryomen I want to rule the city with you, maybe even the world together. But it's selfish for me to want to keep you here with me. So I will help you be free. Even if it hurts to know I will never see you again."

Sukuna looked to his finger then picked up as he grabbed your wrist that was to his face then placed his finger in your palm. "I am only set free if you give me my last souls and the finger to swallow. So I want you to keep it safe. I will make a deal with you, I will never take this finger, I will take it if you give it to me. If you wish to stay with me then keep it for as long as you want. If you do not wish to be with me any more then give it to me and tell me to leave and I will be free." Sukuna did not know why he was saying all this but  all he knows is that he was feeling the same way.

You felt your heart race holding the finger then nuzzled against his chest hugging him. " Sukuna I promise to be by your side." He smirked and put his arms around you hearing the thunder roar over your home and rainfall. 

Soon you and sukuna had became a talk of legends and stories. The witch and her lover demon that roamed Japan destroying the filth of humans. People started to make there own stories about you and sukuna describing your love story. You found it cute how they made sukuna the one who fell in love with you, which its the other way around. 

Sukuna is proud to have you in his life seeing you tear people apart with your magic that he had also helped you advance. He loves to see his finger on a necklace around your neck, a sense of pride. A mark to show everyone that you belong to him and he belongs to you. All the sex the two of you have in all the positions drives you insane. He loves the way you flutter and squeeze around him. 

Sukuna promised to make you his wife the queen of demons in his domain. You can not wait till that day, you gave him your heart just like he gave you his. 

Thank you all for reading. I know this one was a little rushed to me but it was just all smut, and i wanted to focus more detail for the other stories. To much on my plate of wips.

Like comments and reblog are all well appreciated. Send me a ask if you would like to be part of the tag list for sotries!

[sakuraryomen01]

Lost Lamb. /OG Sukuna X Reader/ .o1

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✧ Warning: Og Sukuna Ryomen, blood, some slight gore, mentions of burning bodies, runaway reader, caught stealing, servant reader, Master x Servant, mentions of abuse, trigger warnings, abandonment, starvation (???), Uraume cooks a human-

✧ Reader: Female Reader

✧ Plot: A Master x Servant Fanfiction in which Sukuna, the king of curses, finds you snooping in his temple and he makes you pay for your crimes for the rest of your life..

✧ Words: 4.673k

fic masterlist :: .o1 .o2 .o3 .o4 .o5 .o6 .o7 .o8 .o9 .10 .11 .12

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♡ Thank you for reading this bit! Enjoy! ♡

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The harsh grasp of his hand on your throat choked out any amount of air that would have reached your lungs. Nails as sharp as knives threatening to slit your jugular and let the crimson liquid spill into his palm.

No one has ever before dared to enter his temple —his home— and lived. So why? Why did a young woman such as this one decide to tempt fate and test her life?

"Pl-Please... don't..." She choked out, blood pooling from her lips.

Sukuna sneered in disgust at the sight. "Why shouldn't I?"

Fat tears spilled from the corners of your eyes, shaking and trying to stay composed so as to not upset the curse further. You knew death was going to come easy if you said the wrong things or did something to annoy him.

"I caught you scavenging like a pathetic rat in my kitchen." Eyes that could cut diamonds pierced your heart. "How dare you, human?"

"...D-Didn't mean... upset you...."

"Pathetic. A mortal like you shouldn't be allowed another ounce of breath."

You knew he was right; you had gone into his home looking for food. Tempting the gods into giving you a punishment by his hand. The King of Curses finding you looking for food and stealing from him was going to have a consequence, and yet you didn't care.

You were hungry, on the verge of death even.

"Please... let me.. pay you.." You cried, your whimpering growing quiet as air was sucked from your chest.

"Pay me? PAY ME?" A loud bellow left the cursed king, the laugh rattling your bones and heart to the core.

"You wish to pay for that food you tried to steal from me? That's laughable. I wouldn't allow it even if you got on your hands and knees and begged for forgiveness."

With a swift recoil of his arm, Sukuna threw you into a wall. A crack echoing from the back of your skull before you landed on the ground, a bleeding and coughing mess. His footsteps slowly numbed into the background as an ear-splitting headache surfaced.

"If you wish to live, however.."

Blood, spit and tears collected in a small puddle on the floor as Sukuna spoke. The ringing in your head makes you cry into a shriveled up mess of misery.

"You'll cook, clean, and serve me whichever way I wish."

His hand came down on the back of your head, nails digging into your temples as Sukuna lifted your gaze to him again.

"Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

Unable to nod, you gave a small 'yes' as you desperately held back a cough. Sukuna scoffed, releasing your head and dropping you onto the cold floor. He turned his attention to the servant that was peeping in on the conversation, calling them over and speaking to them.

"Uraume, take this.... human.. to the showers." Sukuna's voice was slowly fading into the buzzing noise. "Make sure she's taken care of by tomorrow morning."

"Yes, Sukuna." The servant mumbled, bowing their head slightly before turning to you.

Sukuna took one more look down at you and turned, heading towards the temple doors and out to only God knows where. The person called 'Uraume' stepped forward and knelt down, gesturing for you to stand and grab a hold of their hand.

"Th-Thank you." You mumbled, though didn't think you should've.

"You're welcome." They mumbled, hooking your arm around their neck and placing their hand around your waist. "Let's go."

Quietly, the subordinate guided you to the showers. Your eyes looking around the temple as you both walked by the many statues of the shrine's owner and the littering offerings in the large hallway. The soft sound of water cascading down a mountain echoed throughout the empty walls, and the sight of a waterfall nearby creating hot-springs could be seen outside a window.

"This place was always a little gloomy." Uraume mumbled, catching your attention. "Sukuna never really likes... guests."

"I c-can... tell.." Swallowing down the spit, or blood, in your throat to speak.

"I apologize for making you speak in your condition. Please, don't speak until you feel better."

Nodding, you learned some more weight onto Uraume to which they obliged. And as you walked to the warmth of the shower room, you thought back to how you ended up in this trouble.

Thinking back to the village you formerly lived in, remembering how they had pushed you away, forcing you to learn how to fend for yourself and take care on your own. Quickly adapting to the life of a thief and stealing bread from the local bakery at sunrise every morning before others woke up.

Some people in the village felt pity for you; handing out free food and shelter when they could, but soon ending their services when the town's chief found out.

Your life wasn't always like that though. You had a mother and a father that loved you dearly. Giving you hot meals every night and treating you like the love of their life. Fresh clothes whenever they could afford new silks when the city's trader came around, fashioning them into pants and coats for school and everyday wear.

But, they soon grew to hate you when your father started to come home drunk. He'd take out his anger on you and your mother did nothing but ignore the abuse she was forced to witness. You never knew why she didn't help you, to at least heal you when your cuts got too deep.

And when they kicked you out, you still didn't get an answer from her. Living alone, cold, and always dirty was what your life turned into.

Stumbling away from that hell hole and into the forest was your only choice when a fire broke out and burned the place to the ground. Finding shelter somewhere near Sukuna's home for months at a time until you ventured too far and came into contact with the temple.

The clean sight of the shrine had taken you by surprise, seeing as it was in the middle of the forest and no clear path to it. And the smell of fresh food being cooked inside made your stomach churn with want. Gradually, you started stalking out the home, figuring out the best time to break in and hopefully get some food before you leave.

Right when you managed to get in, Sukuna happened to come along as you got into his meat storage.

His glare alone made you want to cry for mercy and beg til you died for forgiveness. That was before he clamped a hand down on your throat and dragged your body to where Uraume was cleaning.

"Lean your head back," They gently ordered. Their hands work through your matted hair and wash out the suds with a cup of warm water from the tub.

Thanking them, you lifted your arms when they asked and melted at the feeling of the rag gliding over your body. Nearly a year of dirt being washed away as you soaked in the tub.

"Is the water comfortable?" Uraume asked, rubbing their hand against your back. "Do you need more warm water from the springs?"

Shaking your head, you felt the ringing in your ear stop and the migraine leave as you relaxed. Once you were finished, soft splashing echoed through the room as you stood to get out. Uraume held onto your hand for support and wrapped a towel around you once your feet met the floor.

"I'll take you to get you fresh clothes to wear." They said, patting down your hair.

"Are you almost finished, Uraume?" A voice huffed from the doorway.

You shuttered at the sight of Sukuna's large frame filling the door. His torso exposed and four arms tattooed with singular black bands covering his wrists and biceps folded over his chest. Choking down the lump in your throat, you averted your gaze to the floor.

"Yes, Master." Uraume answered Sukuna, not even giving him a second glance as they continued to dry your hair.

"Good." He mumbled, watching you squirm under his gaze. A hateful glare leaving him for a moment at your unease before he headed down the hall.

"Where's he going?" You asked quietly, trying to not strain your voice.

"Most likely his throne room." Uraume responded, folding the used towel before grabbing a brush.

"He goes there around this time before I begin cooking. It's around the main hall, where you were, but you couldn't see it from your positioning."

"Oh.."

Uraume made quick work of your hair, not tying it up so that it didn't become matted again when it was fully dry. They stood and took you to what appeared to be a servant's chambers, most likely their own, as they looked for a kimono in the closet nearby.

"Sit on the bed, please?" They asked, sorting through the clothing.

Doing as asked, you sat and looked around the small room. It was very neutral and it reminded you of the grounds outside. Many deep blues and turquoise counters clashed with white marble walls and red carpeting. The bed wasn't very large, but just big enough for Sukuna's subordinate to sleep in, which they didn't seem to complain about. And a singular window covered by a white cloth gave a small view of the gardens you remembered.

"How long have you been here?" Scooping your drying hair over your shoulder, you ran your fingers through the strands.

"For a few years." The monk answered, pulling out a simple outfit like their own. White interior and a blue, almost black, for the rest of the outfit.

"I don't really remember when we met, but we've been working together for as long as I know."

Standing, you took the outfit from Uraume and bowed, thanking them before they left. Closing the door, Uraume let you know where to find them if you needed anything. So, you got dressed in the outfit and fixed your hair up to look decent, exiting the room only to feel unnatural and out of place in the big temple.

The countless amounts of offerings from the surrounding villages spilled from their bowls and buckets. Some rather gory presents were heads or dead animals that seemed to be preserved so they didn't smell.

God, so many.. I wonder why he gets offerings anyways? To keep him 'pleased' maybe?

"What are you doing here?" Sukuna's voice echoed from his throne.

Startled by the sudden sound, you tripped on your foot and stopped yourself before you fell onto the floor. "U-Uh, I was-"

"Answer me." He ordered, his claws cutting the skull his on armchair.

"I'm looking for Uraume."

A hum left him before a silence filled the air, the conversation that happened almost an hour ago replaying in your head. His large hands gripping your throat and your toes unable to feel the ground. The scenario played on loop in your mind; so when Sukuna spoke again, your lips let out a small squeak.

"They're in the kitchen preparing my meal." He answered, pointing a long nail towards a hallway. "Be useful and go help them. Leave me be until dinner is made."

With a curt bow, you headed towards the echoing sounds of clattering pots and pans. But, the sound of Sukuna calling for you to stop made your heart drop.

"What's your name, mortal?" Sukuna asked, barely turning his head towards you.

Feeling the heat of your cheeks rise at his gaze, fumbling with the ends of your collar as you force out an answer from your sore throat.

"Y-Y/n... L/n."

Nodding, Sukuna ran his tongue over his lower lip before staring ahead. "Call me 'Lord Sukuna' or 'Master' from now on, servant."

Leaving the cursed spirit alone, you make your way down the hall you were previously dragged down and meet with Uraume's back. At the sound of your footsteps, they turned around and greeted you, pulling a knife from its holder and placing it on a cutting board.

"Sukuna sent you in here to help me?" They asked, cutting up some vegetables and dumping them into a pot.

"Yeah, I hope I'm not a bother."

"No, it's actually nice to have some help around here."

Heading towards the monk, you stood in front of the boiling pot and peered inside. Your nose comes into contact with the smell of boiling greens, and some spices and herbs added to the broth.

"What's this?" You asked, gesturing towards the pot.

"Food for Sukuna." Uraume answered, cutting up some meat before placing it on a rock set up over a fireplace.

The raw meat looked like it wasn't drained of all blood, some even trickling down the sides of the large steak and onto the hot stone. It smelled odd, as if you've smelled it before, but couldn't quite guess where.

"That meat looks bad, are you sure it's okay to serve?"

"It's fine, I got it from a villager yesterday evening."

Oh... still, it doesn't look good. "What kind? Boar meat?"

"Woman." Uraume answered bluntly, a sick churn in your stomach at the response.

"...That's a really bad joke." You mumbled, glancing at the cooking flesh. "Y-You are joking right?"

Uraume didn't answer, but just chopped up more herbs for the broth cooking in the pot before turning to face you again. "No, I'm not."

Your stomach twisted and you cupped a hand over your mouth, dashing over to a bin for trash and hurling your empty stomach acid into the can. Uraume went back to their preparations before speaking again.

"Half of our offerings come from the dead." They started, picking up some cloth to protect their hands from the handles.

"Some are still living when we receive them, and it really depends on Sukuna's mood whether to kill them on the spot or not. But, this is what most of the meat comes from. Women and children are the protein that he eats."

The gagging noises soon ended when the churning in your gut resided, wiping your lips clean of vomit on the back of your sleeve as you came up for air. "He's a cannibal?"

"I don't know if you can call him a cannibal now, since he's a curse."

Flashes of your burning village swirled in your mind as your eyes landed on the cooking meat. The smell is sickeningly delicious on your nose, but tearing your eyes away from the slab to the counter with all you can muster made you sick.

"Here," Uraume lifted a piece of cooked meat up to your lips. "You're weak. Eat it."

"Uh.." You stuttered, eyes growing wide at the offering. "Is it human too?"

"No, it's beef. I cook more than a human, darling."

Taking a small breath, you took the morsel in your mouth and cooed at the flavors pooling down your throat. The seasoning was perfect and cooked to a nice medium rare that was soothing to the pallet.

It's just a bite, but I want a whole plate.

"Better?" Uraume asked, picking up the pot and stirring some noodles with the broth.

"Yes, very much, thank you."

"You're welcome, Y/n."

As you silently helped Uraume with preparing Sukuna's dinner — slowly learning how to cook which things properly — you were finally told to go into the dining area around the corner and set the table.

"I'll be right back then." You bowed, heading off towards the dining room.

Uraume had given you easy directions to the area, and you found it in a manner of a few short minutes. Once there, you quickly took in the Japanese theme of your surroundings before setting up the table and utensils.

Small banners —or flags, you presumed— hung from the ceiling with splashes of blood near the ends of each.

So far, it's not that bad here.. Feeling out the wound in the back of your head, you rubbed the spot gently before wincing at the ache. Other than that, of course.

"Servant." Sukuna's rough voice alerted you, forcing you to look up and meet your gaze with him.

His brows furrowed. "You're supposed to be helping Uraume."

"They said to come in here and set the table.." You whimpered, twirling your thumbs together and standing quickly.

Sukuna snorted, walking over to the large pillow placed at your feet and took a seat. Running a hand through his pink hair, he waved you off and told you to help your partner. Rushing off to the kitchen again, you nearly collided with Uraume as she pushed a cart full of food to the table.

"Oh- hello." They stammered out, the look of shock being the one look of emotion on their face since you arrived.

Dinner went by in a haze; Sukuna said that you were going to officially start learning from Uraume tomorrow morning and to wake up early so you could get a head start sooner.

You and Uraume had shared a meal later on after Sukuna headed to the showers, not really speaking much as your voice was in need of recovery. But you had a feeling that if Sukuna didn't decide to make you his servant, you'd be the one he ate instead of the random woman he ingested earlier.

So what made him choose that instead of murdering me?

"What's on your mind?" Uraume asked, looking up from their dish.

"Nothing.." You responded, swallowing some noodles and announcing your leave.

Bowing and thanking Uraume for the meal, you headed towards the kitchen again with the cart. The clattering of dishes echoed throughout the empty hallway, soon ending when you had finished cleaning and putting away the plates and utensils when Uraume walked in with their dish.

"Oh, you did the dishes?" A brow raised when they opened one of the compartments and saw them cleaned perfectly.

"Might as well, right?" You smiled weakly, clasping your hands together in front of your middle. "Since I'm going to be here for a while?"

"While it is quite a small time, Y/n." Uraume nodded at the dishes and gave a small thumbs up. "But, you did great on these. I'll get mine cleaned and take you to Lord Sukuna's chambers."

You blinked; once, twice, a third time. "Excuse me?"

"He's going to escort you to your new room, of course." Uraume muttered, dipping the plate into a sink full of warm water and running a sudsy sponge over it.

"I have to head out after dinner and fix the gardens before bed."

Slowly, you nodded, your body trembling at being around your newfound master. Feeling the memory of his rough hands clutching your throat and draining the life from your lungs resurfaced again. Rubbing the, now bruised, skin of your jugular and winced at the slight pain. Your voice would probably be okay within a day or two, but you knew that those red eyes would haunt your dreams for many months.

"Let's get going." Uraume spoke up, wiping their hands dry on their clothes before exiting the room a final time that night. "It's this way."

As you made your way to the King's bedroom, you heard the calm river running outside. Crickets chirped as cicadas and other insects joined them in the night. Hearing the sounds of a bath running caught your attention as you got closer and closer to the shower room.

"Sukuna, Y/n needs to be taken to her quarters?" Uraume announced, pushing open the door.

"I'll be finished in a moment, Uraume. You can go to the gardens now, thank you." His voice echoed from inside.

With a nod, Uraume turned towards you and gave a slight bow in goodbye and headed towards the temple doors. Sukuna called you inside the bathroom, taking your mind off of Uraume's task and heading into the room until you choked on a gasp.

Sukuna was resting his chin on his forearms, lazily blinking at you as you stumbled back and hit your shoulder on the door frame. A deep sigh left his lips before he lifted his head and summoned you over with a few flicks of his fingers. The singular bands shining slightly due to the water stuck to his skin.

"Don't just stand there, servant. Open the window."

Shaking your head, you headed over to one of the windows and pulled back it's cover. The moon light pooled into the room, shimmering off of the tub water. Walking over to Sukuna, you knelt down to your knees and avoided looking into the tub to remain at least the littlest bit respectful to the male.

"A-Anything else, sir?" You asked, biting your lip stubbornly as your brows furrowed together.

"...Clean my back." Sukuna responded slowly, as if questioning whether to let your slip of the tongue anger him or not.

Feeling a lump form in your throat, you picked up the rag Uraume used before and dipped it into the water. Sukuna's brow lifted for a moment while his eyes followed your movements, before leaning forward and turning his back to you.

Oh my... Many scars littered his back, not very large or ugly ones, but little nicks and close calls from past battles and fights.

Etched into his skin permanently that didn't even make you recoil, but rather look in awe for a moment before you remembered your task. Pressing the cloth against the middle of his back, you washed in circular motions as you made your way up and towards Sukuna's nape and shoulder blades.

Occasionally squeezing the rag and draining it before dipping it into the water again and bringing it up to Sukuna's spine. Once you felt your work was done, you told Sukuna you finished to which you got a hum in response.

"Pull back the cover so I can dress in private." Sukuna said, nodding at the bamboo screen.

Quickly getting to your feet, you closed the screen around the tub and sat down beside it. Hearing the sound of water splashing and dripping onto the carpeted ground, the sound of a towel being flung around for a few moments made you look up.

The shadow of Sukuna drying himself off made your cheeks flush as you lifted him his robe over the screen. His nails grazed against the back of your hand, your arms retracting as soon as Sukuna had his clothing and pressing against your chest.

"Finished." Sukuna announced, putting the screen back into place. "To your chambers, right?"

"Y-Yes, Master." You mumbled, your eyes staring at Sukuna's fumbling hands.

You could barely see his second pair of arms folded above the kimono's belt. A large mouth with its tongue sticking out the side made your brows raise slightly.

"This way."

Sukuna took a freshly dried towel with him, drying his hair as he made his way down the hall in the opposite direction of the throne room and main corridors. Lanterns hung from the walls, burning bright flames and became less and less in amount as you grew closer to your room. And as if struggling to keep up with Sukuna's long strides wasn't enough, you had to jog up to him a few times to keep pace.

"This is my room, in case Uraume didn't tell you before." Sukuna waved a hand at a large set of mahogany doors.

Two small ram skulls were carved into the middle of each door with a dark shade of red circling the eye socket as the inside turned to black. Many carvings of symbols you assumed were written lined the door as well as the initials of Sukuna's name were also carved into the wood.

"Your room will be close to mine, just in case." The curse grumbled, his voice low and soundly a little sleepy. "Here."

The door to the room was significantly smaller than Sukuna's, since you weren't his height. But you could tell that, if he so desired, he could just bow his head inside to enter.

"This is your room so get comfortable." Sukuna said as he pushed open the door, the inside resembling Uraume's room in many ways.

The colors and the overall scenery was as if you just walked into their living space and not your own. Taking a step inside, Sukuna followed and looked around, clicking his tongue at the bed's sheets and kneeling to look at them closely.

Meanwhile, you were looking around and looking in the closet that was deprived of a good clean in days. No clothes or undergarments were seen in the drawers or the closet, making your face form a confused pout.

"Uraume is going to get you new clothes and underwear while they're at the market tomorrow morning." Sukuna randomly mentioned, thumbing the old sheets in his palm.

"I'll have to tell them to get new bedding for you too; this is terrible."

"N-No, this is fine!" You said, happy you got your own room and a roof over your head after living under makeshift shelter for a year.

Plopping your rear on the mattress, you sprawled your limbs out on the bed and took a deep breath. Sukuna's eyes watching you closely before looking back down at the covers again and standing.

"I don't care, you're getting new sheets." He said, placing his used towel over his shoulder and glaring down at you.

"These haven't been touched in years, they've been in dire need of getting replaced. I can't believe I didn't notice until now that they were falling apart.."

Not even listening to Sukuna's words, you closed your eyes and felt your body finally relax. As if the old and stiff mattress was the softest thing in the whole world. Softer than silk, or sheep's wool; your body going numb once you opened your eyes again and sat up.

"Wake up first thing in the morning." Sukuna stated, turning to leave your room when you stopped him.

"What is it?"

"Uhm, thank you, Lord Sukuna." You mumbled, closing your eyes and taking a breath before you heard the sound of wood being scratched.

"Don't thank me for letting you live, love." Sukuna retorted, his nails digging into the back of your door as he glared down at your small form on the bed.

"You are nothing but a rotten thief that just so happened to be of use to me. If I wanted to, you'd be dead right now if I was in a different mood at the time. You're lucky though, since the Gods haven't asked me to take your fucking head."

Blood ran cold as daggers were stabbed into the back of your eyes. Your soul chilling at the words that left the king of curses, his glare just as fierce as before and making you feel tears threaten.

"I know that, I was just giving my thanks." You muttered, desperately trying to force your gaze away.

"...Meet Uraume in the gardens by morning." Sukuna said, a snide smile forming on his lips. "You remember where those are, right? Snooping out my home, you must've learned where they are."

Nodding, you lowered your head and listened to the door close as Sukuna made his leave. His footsteps echoing down the hallway and into his room, the clatter of his doors slamming close reverberated off the walls.

"..I'm sorry." You whispered to yourself, seeing a tear fall from your eye to which you wiped it off.

This is my fault, he's right. I'm a servant now, and this is the life I chose for myself by trying to steal from him.

Quickly getting undressed into the light night gown underneath, you crawled under the old sheets and looked out the window. The moon shined so bright and proud; a sight you've grown fond of since being deserted by your family. Feeling a small smile lift the corners of your lips, your eyelids closed slowly as you drifted off to sleep.

Blankets kept your body warm as you slept, though they didn't save you from the nightmares that haunted you into the night.

I hope you enjoyed the pilot read of "Lost Lamb." This could be considered part 1, but I decided to make it a pilot since I didn't know if you guys would like it or not.

I am also super sorry for not being able to post on V-day, but I got a make-up smut coming up sometime soon! 😭😭

Property of sakuraryomen01™ Please do not steal, copy or repost onto any other platform.

[aztecbrujeria]

idk how your req work exactly but sukuna x bottom ftm reader? <3

Hello Nony!!!

This is just fine! I hope you like it and have fun!!!

NSFW TW: ftm Bottom reader, Degradation, anal fingering, Edging, overstimulation, Anal orgasm, Double Stuff, cursed dicks, tummy mouth, anal/pussy eating, multiple hands, pussy slaps, squirting, frontal denial…yeah

“AHH-HAAHH, oh fuuuck!”

The feel of his chest against your back while the monstrous, powerful, tongue lapped up your dripping cunt. You arched your slick skin against the lingual muscle shuddering at the way it began to open you up and plunge in. Squealing and barely able to keep still you felt him move a thick hand to your throbbing clit and screamed when a small mouth appeared on his palm and attached itself to you sucking on your swollen bundle of nerves.

“Such a filthy fucking slut for me, aren’t you boy?”

He began to chuckle darkly into your ear as he groaned when he felt the aching tips of uncut dicks brush between the hot juncture of your meaty thighs. He wanted nothing more than to devour you, his own naughty boy. You felt him rut against you, his tummy mouth sending you closer to oblivion while his hand suckled and played with you, you were so fucking close and felt yourself claw into the floor below.

“P-Please!! R-Ryo!!”

Whining like the filthy whore you are you weren’t expecting the sensation to stop all of a sudden. Your orgasm was right there, he’d been edging you for hours, you were desperate. It was the sudden slap on your swollen pussy that made your screams echo. He grabbed your neck and arched you against him more as his other hand slapped you again making the tears in your eyes roll down your now pinched cheeks.

“I don’t think I fuckin heard you right, boy.”

Slap-Slap-Slap-SLAP

You felt his hot breath against your face as the tongue from his mouth came out to collect and trace the paths of your hot tears. His eyes rolled back into his skull and a deep growl echoed into the atmosphere. Sitting back upon his legs he traced your body with the palm of one of his many hands and smiled wickedly.

“I think I’m going to deny your sopping cunt today boy and stretch your ass out.”

You reveled in the way his calloused palm splayed across your back side before he wound up and slapped your ass making the meat jiggle like sin. He chuckled darkly again watching the way your spine seems to snap back. You couldn only push your ass back against him feeling the girth of his dicks pulsing against you.

“P-Please…S-Sir!!”

Large hands gripped your waist as you felt him pull you back and push you down more at the same time presenting your sweet puckering pink hole to him.

“I will not put it inside that tight cunt. I’m going rearrange your nasty guts, boy.”

Again you moaned like a whore in church when you felt the moist hot stripe from his tummy mouth over your tight hole. Pushing against it wanting to feel some friction on your clit, anything for the release, you cried more wanting to be filled. Just when you thought he was going to take pity on you it was the slow plunge of his thick digit to open you up in your ass that gave you another degree of hunger.

Tummy roiling, spine tightening, you felt him plunge in and out until another thick digit entered to begin playing with your searing insides. You began to clench down, the lack of being filled in your cunt made your slick desire coat the inside of your thighs. You practically purred and wanted to be filled. You finally started begging him.

“P-PLEASE SIR FUCK ME PLEASE!”

It was his dark laugh while he took pleasure in your begging. He slipped a third digit inside of your hole sending you over the edge as you clamped down and screamed with the earth shattering release. You felt white hot flash of pleasure and the warm sensation as you squirted coating his hand.

You slumped forward catching your breath when you felt him lift your hips and he lined himself up as his fingers left your insides. It was the sweet pressure as one thick, throbbing erection slid past your stretched rim. You moaned from deep within as he thrust once bottoming out. Bending over you a set of hands held you down.

“I’m going to stuff both my cocks inside of you, you better hold on for your measly life, boy.”

You gripped the sheets and let your eyes roll back as he pulled out and this time slowly buried both of his cursed dicks in your abused puffy hole.

[thera-daydreams]

ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴡᴇᴇᴛ ᴏʟᴅ ʟᴀᴅʏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ᴡɪᴛᴄʜ

ᗢ jujutsu kaisen x scarletwitch!reader ᗢ

04. ryomen sukuna

the sadistic maniac who's just too bored with his life so he waits to pick a fight as he sits on his throne made out of the skulls of his enemies

Chapter Index & Synopsis

warning: will contain spoilers from the jjk manga and the latest mcu shows (particularly wandavision and loki, as well as rumors from doctor strange in the multiverse of madness). once again, this will contain heavy spoilers—you have been warned. this chapter will also have mentions of cannibalism and will contain some, uh, certain tension with our tattooed king. and unfortunately, school starts tomorrow for me, so the next updates might be further apart in duration. thank you for your patience! and oh my god, thank you so, so much for 200 followers! i love you all so much.

[EDIT] 6/17/2022, 7:46PM: Edited after the things that happened in Dr. Strange 2. Oh, and Sukuna gets a taste of his own medicine with a glimpse of the Scarlet Witch's wrath. Just a teeny glimpse compared to what happened in DSMOM2.

(word count: 4,221)

(previous chapter)

You were displeased, to say the least. That much, Gojo could tell as you three waited for Yuuji to wake up in the heavily sealed room. However, you tried to distract yourself instead by carefully patching up the injured Fushiguro.

Up close and in person, he really did look like a carbon copy of his father (except for the spikier black hair he likely got from his mother).

"A-Ah, thank you, L/N-san," Megumi said, bowing his head thankfully to you as you finished wrapping bandages around his bleeding head.

"You're very much welcome, dear. And you can call me Y/N, don't worry." You smiled at him softly. Poor kid. Had it not been for Gojo's interference, he probably would've sustained even more severe injuries—or death—at the hands of Ryomen Sukuna.

Speaking of the devil, your mood soured again.

"That damn bastard," you muttered, for once not holding back in your words as you entered the cremation room. Gojo had explained to you the situation, and those damn jujutsu higher-ups had already made a rash decision about your adopted son.

Execution.

Cowards, all of them. Yuuji was only fifteen. A child who was clueless about this new world he was in! A child who'd just lost his grandfather! They had absolutely no right to do this to him. Thankfully, Gojo had managed to persuade them to delay the execution by allowing Yuuji to collect all twenty fingers first. But you knew that Gojo had a hidden agenda in mind; perhaps by the time all the fingers of Sukuna were consumed by Yuuji, he would be too powerful to be stopped by the higher-ups.

Perhaps, through Yuuji, the elders could be overthrown, too. Or at least, something would change and they'd learn their lesson.

On the other hand, you had other plans.

Knowing Yuuji, he would of course choose to not die now. He would choose to collect all the fingers first, bring Sukuna down with him, and die knowing that he's saved so many people who could be harmed by curses. That was how that kid was—heroic and selfless. And no matter what you did, you knew wouldn't be able to change his mind.

So what did you do?

Well...

"So that's your final choice? You'll eat all the fingers?" you asked Yuuji, voice still eerily level (even Gojo was freaking out as to why you weren't really freaking out).

The universe worked in mysterious ways.

Who knew that the adopted mom of Sukuna's current vessel would turn out to be his close elderly friend and the creator of the most heavenly brownies ever? And weren't moms supposed to pissed in situations like this? (Oh, you were pissed, alright, you were just extremely good at hiding it.)

Now, Yuuji, too, knew that you were somehow involved in this weird jujutsu world he'd plunged himself into.

The pink-haired teenager determinedly nodded, closing the lid of the container containing his grandfather's cremated ashes. He set down the long chopsticks he used to pick out the bones, "Yes, Momma. My grandfather would've wanted me to save people, not dwell on his death."

You sighed, rubbing your temples, "I can't stop you, can I?"

Yuuji sweat-dropped, laughing sheepishly, "Ehehehe, no... sorry, kaa-chan."

Though you hated what was happening to Yuuji, you could only watch as he embarked on this new journey, taking the second finger of Sukuna and eating it (this boy didn't even bite it into pieces—he deadass swallowed the entire thing without even chewing, eugh).

"You're... strangely calm for someone whose, uh, son is scheduled to be executed," Satoru cautiously began while watching the pink-haired teen from the corner of his eye. He walked closer to the exit door, discreetly blocking it with his arm, knowing that Megumi was right behind it. He was ready to fight and protect you if necessary, too.

There was another burst of dark, cursed energy as black tattoos reappeared on Itadori's face.

You didn't look one bit terrified at all.

Gojo, frankly, was even more weirded out. Impressed, even.

"It's not going to reach that point," you simply said, crossing your arms. If Yuuji was stubborn, then you were stubborner (was that even a word?). Screw the higher-ups. Screw Sukuna.

You won't let Yuuji be executed in the end.

"... How do you know?" Satoru inquired curiously, eyes still trained on Yuuji's every movement.

A mysterious smile curved your lips upward, but you didn't elaborate further, only watching as the tattoos on Yuuji faded away. He gagged, complaining that the gross finger tasted like soap.

"Ewwww, that's disgusting! Bleh! Bleh! Bleh!"

Gojo was pleased at how miraculously your adopted son suppressed the King of Curses, but he still was interested as to how exactly you—of all people—would prevent Yuuji's execution. What, were you going to have your weird spirit friends help or something?

Noticing this, you smiled even wider, moving towards Yuuji and taking his hand in yours, swinging it back and forth.

"Curse King," you called out in a sing-song tone.

There was no reply. Gojo and Itadori gave you incredulous looks.

"I know you're in there. And I know you're listening."

No reply, still.

"I'm warning you." You sweetly leaned your head on a confused Yuuji's shoulder. "Hurt my son, and I promise you, I'll come after you and rip your spirit out myself."

Reading Yuuji's mind, you could hear the mocking laughter from Sukuna. The pink-haired boy frowned, "Mom, he's—"

"Laughing. I know. I can practically hear him from here." Yuuji and Satoru didn't know you were being literal, but with you being able to hear thoughts, the Curse King's laughter was booming in your ear. You didn't mind.

"... You do?" Yuuji wondered, hitting his head with his palm as he tried shutting Sukuna out. "God, he just won't shut up."

"I told you earlier that I can talk to ghosts and other weird things in the spiritual realm, remember? The King of Curses is no exception."

"Oh yeah. I forgot."

Sukuna may not take you seriously now, but one day, he will. You'd show him.

Grrrrrrrr!

"Yuuji, is that your stomach grumbling? Are you hungry already, hun?" you asked. "Right after you ate that gross finger?"

"That was a hell of a growl," Gojo chuckled.

"... Yeah, I am pretty starved right now. Could use a—"

You placed your hands behind your back and magicked a bowl of pork cutlets. Yuuji's eyes brightly sparkled when you showed him your now-not-empty hands (you'd been doing this to him for like, six years, so it wasn't new). Gojo, on the other hand, was startled.

He'd never seen you do that before.

"Where did you get that?" the white-haired sensei asked, looking behind you.

"Waaaaah! It's the rice bowl magic trick again!" Yuuji exclaimed excitedly as you handed him the katsudon. "Thanks, Momma!"

While he gobbled down the food, Gojo gave you a questioning stare. "Rice bowl magic trick?"

"Magic." You winked at him slyly. "Anyone can pull a coin out of someone's ear, but not anyone can pull a rice bowl out of nowhere!"

"... It was probably in your bag this entire time."

You snorted, "Believe what you wish to believe, Gojo Satoru."

"Psh. Magic. I don't believe you."

"Says the man who still doesn't know the recipe to the best brownies in the world. That's it, I'm never ever telling you."

"Heeeeeeey, that's unfair!"

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

Even weeks after Sukuna manifested into his new vessel's body, the brat's sensei never stopped prattling on about that stupid bakery (café?) in the city of Tokyo. He had to admit, though, that when he stole one bite of the chocolate cake brought by the teacher—he did that by having a mouth appear on Itadori's palm—it tasted divine.

What did you put in that cake, crack? How the hell was it possible for something to taste that good? He'd eaten humans before, and to his bewilderment, none of them tasted that good even when cooked by Uraume. What the fuck was that chocolate cake, the food of the gods themselves?

Thus, when his vessel, Fushiguro, and that Kugisaki woman were tasked by that irritating Gojo Satoru to purchase some sweets, he was looking forward to stealing more of those chocolate treats he ate before.

You came out of the kitchen, some flour on your hands, but a big, warm smile on your aged face. Instantly, you recognized who the three customers might be from their uniforms alone.

Within Itadori's mind, Sukuna scoffed. Your food may be heavenly, but you were dumb and a fool for threatening him. You. A human who was just years away from crumbling into dust (sorry, Sukuna, reader was already snapped into ash by a purple alien overlord a long time ago and she's not planning on doing that again anytime soon).

Little did he or Yuuji know that you could hear his thoughts. A vein appeared on your jaw, but you calmed yourself down.

"Disrespectful little shit. If he weren't in such an adorable vessel, I would teach him a lesson. I don't care if he's the King of Curses," you thought, masking your annoyance with a grin. You focused your attention to the three youngsters staring at you. "Hello, sweethearts! Can I help you three with anything?"

"Hi, Momma!" Yuuji waved at you.

"Hello, Y/N-san," Megumi greeted.

"Good morning, Y/N-san!" Nobara happily greeted. You were on her favorite person list after you called her pretty on the day you first met (you'd even given her a special promo card to a beauty spa as a welcome gift to Tokyo). Plus, according to Maki and the other second-years, you had the ability to see much more things in the spiritual world even if you weren't a jujutsu sorcerer. Rumor has it (ahem, Gojo, ahem), you could talk to dead people. How badass was that?

You wiped the flour from your hands, glancing at the door leading to the kitchen. Megumi had no idea his dad was working for you in the kitchen. At this very moment. It was a bit unfortunate.

Toji already knew about the Sukuna-Yuuji situation after you spilled the beans to him, and along with that story, you'd told him that you'd met his now-teenage son along the way. The green-eyed man showed a slight reaction, yet from his thoughts alone, you could tell he wasn't ready to show his face yet despite the numerous times the first-year trio had visited the shop.

It was somewhat sad, but you were understanding enough to not push his boundaries.

Back to the present.

You noticed that the blindfolded white-haired stickman was nowhere to be found. No wonder it was far quieter than usual. "Are you here to buy something for Gojo-kun? Where is he, anyway?"

"He's out on a business trip," Megumi answered before taking out a piece of paper. "He gave us a list requesting that we buy... uh... twenty sugar-glazed doughnuts, fifteen cinnamon rolls, thirty oatmeal cookies, an entire red velvet cake, and—"

"Three dozens of his favorite red velvet brownies," you supplied, already knowing his favorite pastry. "As usual."

The three students sweat-dropped. That was a ton for one order. Surprisingly, you just reached down under the counter and took out seven different boxes, all containing what Gojo requested.

"E-Eh!?"

At the sound of their yells, you turned back to them and checked the boxes, "Is there something wrong? Did I get the order wrong? I'm sure I put oatmeal cookies instead of the butter cookies..."

"You made all these, Mom!?" Yuuji exclaimed. Well, Toji helped, but majority of it was made by your skillful hands.

"Mmhmm! All fresh from this morning, hun. Why?"

"This is... a lot," Megumi's eyes were wide. "Even for that weirdo's usual order."

"She just pulled them from her stockpile like it's a normal thing," Nobara whispered to Yuuji, who whispered back.

"I know, right?"

"Ah, Satoru may be one of the reasons why I run out of stock every week but he keeps the business running, so I try to give what I can," you explained, unbothered. "Oh! Wait, I haven't been able to box the red velvet cake yet. Could you wait a moment, dearies?"

"Sure..."

They watched you retreat back into the kitchen. The trio took this chance to look around your shop (even Yuuji noticed some new details; you'd done some renovating since the last time he was here). It was homely and had a highly welcoming atmosphere inside it. The walls were made of mahogany brown wood—there were some white decorative symbols on the borders, as well—and the floors were a lighter shade. Freshly-baked goodies were displayed openly, too. The menu was written on black chalkboards and there was even a stand where you could freely try out different types of cheese, fruits, nuts, and spreads.

Overall, it had quite the rustic and authentic theme to it. Nobara and Yuuji immediately went to the cheese stand to try them out.

"Ooooo, this tastes amazing! This wasn't here before. Come try this, Megumi!" Itadori said, munching on some thin slices of meat. With a huff, the black-haired teenager complied. Needless to say, he liked it, too.

Wanting to see what the ruckus was, Sukuna made a mouth emerge on Itadori's palm as he picked up a piece of cheese.

The King of Curses was... satisfied (just say it's good, Sukuna) to find out that the food selection was as great as the chocolate cake he'd stolen tried out before.

"Oy, oy, Sukuna! Why'd you eat my piece?" Yuuji complained. The mouth reappeared on his cheek.

"Shut up, brat. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about."

Megumi and Nobara could only stare as the vessel and the curse argued. Unbeknownst to them, you had been watching from the sidelines all this time, unfazed by the fact that there was a second mouth on Itadori's face.

You soundlessly reappeared behind Fushiguro, holding the eight boxes—balancing four on each arm—and cleared your throat. All three students yelled in shock (well, Nobara and Itadori yelled; Fushiguro just flinched).

"Y/N-san!"

"Kaa-chan!"

They quickly took the heavy-looking boxes from your arms.

Fushiguro wondered how he didn't even sense you behind him until you made a sound. Sukuna was thinking the same thing. How did you...?

You inwardly took pleasure in their surprise. It was like the early days of your powers, fighting alongside Ultron. Hm, you should scare people more often (you'd try it on Toji later).

"I thought I'd seen them all, but a second mouth on a human face is something I haven't seen before," you offhandedly commented, crossing your arms and tilting your head at Yuuji, who'd instantly slapped his hand over Sukuna's mouth. "So you finally decide to come out, Sukuna. Welcome to Charmed Coffee & Confectionaries."

The trio gaped at you. Were you engaging in a conversation with the King of Curses? And did you just welcome him? Hell, even Yuuji hated talking to Sukuna.

"Hmmm... Y/N-san, are you a jujutsu sorcerer, too? Or a former one?" Nobara curiously asked.

"We don't sense any cursed energy from you," Fushiguro added, interested in your answer. Gojo didn't really say anything else about you aside from your shop and your ability to see curses and ghosts (plus other supernatural creatures).

Were you a sorceress? Yes. Were you a jujutsu sorceress? No. So what did you tell them? The truth.

"Nah, I'm no jujutsu sorcerer, pumpkin. It's probably my third eye," you replied smoothly, eyes crinkling from your knowing smile. "Aside from those curse thingies, I also see the ghosts of the dead people. The ones that can't move on to the afterlife, at least. I see... other supernatural and mythological beings, as well. But I think Satoru already told you that."

"Ah, he did," Nobara realized.

You tapped your chin, remembeeing something, "Huh. Come to think of it, I saw a tsukumogami outside that house two blocks away from here. It was really nice! It said that it celebrated its 103rd birthday last month."

(In Japanese folklore, tsukumogami are tools that have acquired a kami or spirit. Today, the term is generally understood to be applied to virtually any object "that has reached its 100th birthday and thus become alive and self-aware", though this definition is not without controversy.)

Who was the trio to label you as crazy when they themselves saw curses that regular people couldn't see? They'd be hypocrites to not believe you. Plus, you saw Sukuna's mouth. Talked to it, even.

In actuality, you've met a lot of... other beings before, especially in the multiverse. After the incident with America Chavez and Strange, you'd gone into a bout of isolation before he and Loki called for your help again. The Darkhold and all its versions in the universe were gone—courtesy of you destroying all of them—but there were still many threats and new allies to be met. Demons, devils, angels, fairies, elves, aliens, gods, sentient forces, and even the One Above All. Aside from Dr. Strange, Loki, and Agatha, you'd also become good friends with the Eternals—especially Sersi—before you left for this universe.

"Are the other spirit creatures scary? The ones that aren't curses?" Yuuji asked, baffled.

"Well it depends, sugar. Some are benevolent, others? Not so much. I'm pretty sure there are much scarier things out in the universe than curses," you honestly answered. One of those things was you. God forbid a curse tried getting its hands on you. You'd tear them apart from the inside just like the one at the train station with Toji. You were by no means afraid of them.

Suddenly, a ping from by the cashier signaled that the coffee you were brewing was done. "Ooh! Yay, it's done! Do you kids want hot chocolate, too? I have marshmallows."

"We couldn't possibly intru—"

"It's on the house," you offered, knowing they wouldn't be able to resist. "Along with a slice of blueberry cheesecake, too, of you want."

That single statement made them sit down immediately on the stools by the counter. They could never resist an offer of free food.

"There you go, Megumi-kun."

"Thank you, Y/N-san."

"Yuuji, sweetie, do you want some milk with that?"

"Yes, please!"

"Ooh, Nobara-chan, I have some treats which are very Instagrammable!"

"Ehhhhh?! Can I see?"

Sukuna's interest was incited, alright. He'd never met a human who could see other beings. This old woman was pretty fascinating. He might try to scare you in the future.

Spoiler alert, he was never able to.

Even when he switched with Itadori, you were unshakable. Yuuji told you that he'd go back to his domain pouting and sulking as to why he couldn't get through you.

His favorite chocolate cake slices were always the peace offerings you would give to him when he couldn't intimidate you. There was even a time you gave him an entire freaking cake to make him stop sulking.

Days later, in your shop...

"Damn woman," he grumbled, the mouth on Yuuji's face chewing on a sweet chocolatey dessert.

"No swearing on the table, Sukuna!" you scolded, pouring Yuuji a glass of orange juice. "That's our rule!"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Geez, granny."

Sukuna didn't really give a single fuck.

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

You warned him already. You warned him that if he hurt Yuuji, you'd come after him and rip his spirit out yourself. And what did this bastard do?

He'd torn out your son's heart and threw it away into a corner. Literally. That was what Megumi said.

For a while, you hadn't seen Yuuji or any of his fellow teammates. It was fine by you since you attributed it to their growing involvement in the world of jujutsu, but what was not fine was being told that one, Megumi and Nobara were in a nearly-critical condition and two, your son was killed... but was promptly resurrected afterward.

Sukuna was lucky that Gojo told you the news when Yuuji had already come back to life because you didn't exactly have the greatest track record in dealing with grief and loss (ahem—Sokovia, Westview, and the Multiverse—ahem).

That day, you closed the shop and sat in your living room absolutely seething. Toji could only watch from beside you on the sofa, guardedly doing his best to not tick you off even further.

If he told you before Yuuji came back to life, well... that would be an entirely different story.

You would most definitely not be as patient and understanding.

Right now, that dark, choking aura he'd seen was back in full force, and your eyes were glowing a spine-chilling ruby red. Seriously, you looked like you came out of the Exorcist.

"I should kill him," you bristled, fingers already crackling with that strange red vapor he'd seen only for a second. "I should absolutely rip him to shreds. How dare he."

Toji didn't speak, but he was ready to bolt out the room if necessary. He could count on one hand the number of times he'd felt that pit in his stomach in the face of imminent danger, and this was... well, to be honest, it was scaring him. For the first time, you were openly showing your abilities to him. Maybe he shouldn't have been so curious.

He'd never seen anything like your power (and he's seen some shit in his life, especially with the Zenin clan).

"He's lucky I only found out after Yuuji got resurrected," you mumbled, beginning to pace around while the red vapor followed you. Toji visibly swallowed as you entered the kitchen, the sharp knives you stowed away now floating in mid-air. "Either I stab him, shred him up, snap his neck, slice him into half, make his brains explode, or—"

The knives were promptly returned back into the proper places.

"—Perhaps letting him see his greatest fear would be better." The lights in the house began flickering on and off, with the sanguine mist the only thing illuminating the space.

Toji was really creeped out now. Really. You talking about greatest fears and listing down different torture methods weren't helping.

"Uh, Y/N?"

The lights fully flickered back on and the red glow vanished as you blinked at him, "Yeah?"

"You... need help or something?" the former assassin offered. "Um, a glass of water?"

A tired smile appeared on your face, "Yeah... yeah. Could use one. Thanks, Toji."

Nodding, he swiftly retrieved one ice cold glass of water, relieved that the weighty atmosphere of your so-called magic was gone.

That didn't mean you didn't barge into Sukuna's domain the moment you saw your son again after his "death".

ᗢ▪︎ᗢ

"You piece of shit."

Sukuna blinked. It was dead at night and his vessel had been staying in the enclosed room Gojo had provided. The kid was still learning the basics of jujutsu and had fallen asleep.

So how the fuck did this random woman even get into his domain without him noticing?

Wooooosh!

He barely dodged that quick flash of red that was thrown at him. Sukuna's head snapped towards your shadowy figure, surrounded by strange wisps of red he'd never encountered before. And why in the world were your irises glowing that same color?

"Oh?" He raised a fine brow. "Who are y—"

Wooooosh!

Holy shit.

He ducked out of the way from another projectile of red energy aimed towards him. That sole projectile dissolved the skulls around him into nothingness.

When the curse turned back to look at you, he was suddenly tackled to the watery crimson grounds of his domain, your face nearly touching his.

"This will be your last warning, Curse King," you hissed, eyes blazing with immense fury. "Two can play at this game, Sukuna. Hurt my son again, and I swear to the heavens that even your soul won't get any rest in the afterlife. This one time, I'll show you mercy. And only this time will I be reasonable with you."

Son?

He blinked, finally recognizing who you were.

You were that brat's so-called mom. That foolish granny who dared threaten him. That softhearted woman he mocked and laughed at (yet still made chocolates for him).

Right now, you were definitely not a sympathetic old woman. In fact, right now, it was the exact opposite. And you definitely managed to pique his attention with those strange... gifts of yours. You weren't a jujutsu sorcerer, he recalled Yuuji and Gojo say. This wasn't cursed energy as well, he realized. This was different.

You were different.

"You look... much younger than I remember, granny," Sukuna muttered to himself, looking up at your face. A smirk appeared on his lips. "To be honest, I like this view much better."

You ignored his statement. "I don't know what technique or vow you made with Yuuji," you snarled, eyes flashing brighter as you pushed him deeper into the ground. Harshly (but Sukuna liked a lot a little pain in his pleasure). "But the next time you pull a stunt like that, I'll make you suffer pain unlike anything you've ever imagined. Then I'll savor your death by killing you slowly. You hear me, Curse King?"

His smirk grew wider.

"Loud and clear, woman."

You subsequently (and quite roughly) tossed him like a ragdoll to his infamous pile of skulls with a wave of your glowing hand. With that, you completely vanished from his sight and his domain.

Well this was a pleasant surprise, he thought as he pulled himself up from the rubble of sharp bones. For the first time in ages, his body actually felt sore from a fight (was that even a fight if all he did was get thrown around?). Hell, some blood dripped from his lips while he was getting up.

This was interesting. Very interesting.

First it was Fushiguro Megumi and that hidden potential of his. Now?

Sukuna was looking forward to the next time you two met.

(next chapter.)

Author's Note: So one of the boys finally sees your true form and now, a total of two of them know (some of) your powers! And we've got some tension plus enemies-to-lovers (?) in this chapter, too. TBH, I don't see Sukuna being a good guy. Have ya'll seen his first appearance with him looking for the women and children? That guy eats people, I swear. He may like chocolate in my fic, but he's still a villain! 😒

Reblogs, comments, hearts, interactions, and constructive criticism are very appreciated! If you wanna be tagged in the upcoming chapters, feel free to message me or comment (just pleaaase make sure you allow yourselves to be tagged in your settings). 💕

And maybe you can support me here. Pretty please buy me a coffee? ☕

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[softkuna]

Toji Fushiguro || Toy || Fic

The Sukuna one had me like ✨✨✨ Now I must ask, can you- a toji x fem reader and him seeing Gojo eyeing up what's his and her responding to it and then toji being like oh hell no and basically railing her as punishment (degrading kink please it makes me jello) you don't have to write it if your not comfortable btw take your time and stay safe.

Content   ║ Toji Fushiguro x Fem Insert. Toji’s shoulder pressed into the wall with such a force the damn thing could’ve dented. Arms crossed tensely against the broad puff of his chest. His teeth ground together, the sound of squeaking canines reverberating in his mind.  Toji was seething. For a man with the physical prowess of a god, his tolerance was about as thin as a wet napkin. A wet napkin this woman decided to poke a well-manicured finger into.

Count      ║ 1,311 words.

Consider ║ NSFW. Degradation Kink. Objectification. Female Insert (she/her). Alcohol. Grammar issues. Basic degeneracy.

Creator    ║ So this is the first NSFW thing I have done like this ;v;. I’m not sure if this hit the mark for ya Anon, but hopefully it’ll do until I can get some more practice. It took a little while since I wasn’t exactly sure what I was doing. Honestly this just feels subpar gomen. Enjoy jealous Toji, though -finger guns-.

The club was barely lit with black light and neon strewn about the solid concrete walls in seemingly random intervals. A particularly bright hot pink one cast across her collarbone, dowsing the tops of her breasts deliciously in contrast to the black latex dress. As much as Toji would like to shove her against that very wall, she had a job to do. For him. And he regretted it.

  She was pushing her luck when she approached the table with a certain sway to her hips. Gojou peered around the tinted sunglasses, brow piqued in interest. She flashed a smile, smoothly setting a large bottle of some random high percentage alcohol onto the table. Sliding into the booth next to Satoru, the woman leaned a hand on his leg, the other moving to playfully snap the strap of a birthday hat under his chin, “I hear it’s someone’s birthday?”

  His head tilted up along with the corners of his lips, “Guilty as charged. Are you my present, doll? Always heard the hostesses here were the best,” His voice purred against the thrum of the bass. She tucked hair behind her ear, eyes flickering back to the ravenette with a dangerous composition. The corner of her mouth twitched up at the obvious frustration resonating in the man. He couldn’t touch her. Couldn’t even dream of it if he wanted any semblance of information on this guy. It was the perfect opportunity to test a theory. Toji was the jealous type.

  Toji’s shoulder pressed into the wall with such a force the damn thing could’ve dented. Arms crossed tensely against the broad puff of his chest. His teeth ground together, the sound of squeaking canines reverberating in his mind.  Toji was seething. For a man with the physical prowess of a god, his tolerance was about as thin as a wet napkin. A wet napkin this woman decided to poke a well-manicured finger into.

  He slammed down a shot, the burn at the back of his throat accompanying the burn of his own gaze. She wasn’t anything to him aside from an in. Yet somehow, the not-so-shaman made it a point to speak with her at least once a week, which usually lead into fucking her like a play thing. The lay was just as good as the information she could pry out of loose mouths. Immaculate. This go around, he needed information on someone in particular. Someone who just so happened to be here with a group. Someone who decided it would be a good idea to get a little handsy with his toy.

  “Y’know,” Satoru murmured, “’s pretty sad to be alone in bed for my birthday.” Chilled pads of his fingers rested at the back of her neck. His gaze was hungry and she was a full course meal. Just his type. Perfect shape, perfect charm, perfect headrush. Her hand cupped his ear, whispering something his buzzing mind couldn’t fully piece together against the dense music.  

  She kept up the sweet act despite not getting a lick of information. The only dirt she dug up was that he could finish half a handle before getting buzzed. By the end of the night, Gojou’s hands squeezed at her thigh like he did her last string of patience.  

  The last thing Toji saw was the exchange of cards.

  -

  As the black-clad hostess passed by Toji, her hand trailed along the muscles of his chest, stiletto nails pressing just slightly into him. He followed close behind until they got to their regular spot. A private room tucked into the corner of the club. Commonly used for rich men thirsting to empty their wallets on a good lap dance. It was sound proofed, dimly lit, and somehow hot pink velvet was a prime design choice to set a steamy mood.

  She crossed her arms, gaze hard as the door shut, “So, I’ve got bad new. He didn’t let a word slip-“ The sentence stopped as soon as it began.

  “So doll’s got a sense of humor, huh?” His voice held an edge to match the snide smirk flashing over pointed canines. She knew exactly what was up and oh was it a dangerously delectable sight. One that made her cunt throb on nothing but adrenaline. The crease of his brow, the way his lips set into that hairpin curl, the tensing of each thick muscle along his arm – all of it leaving a sense of satisfaction in the pit of her stomach. Theory confirmed. He took a step closer; she didn’t shrink away. A lost challenge if he’d say so himself.

  A large calloused hand shoved her onto cushions of the booth, catching her open mouth in his own with a bruising force. The man wasted no time with his prodding tongue, tasting the sweetness of peppermint and lapping it up while fending off her own slick muscle.  A hand snaked into the roots of her perfectly done hair, white-knuckling just at the base of the skull. With a sharp yank, her head was yanked back, allowing break for air. Smug and breathless, she chimed, “Jealous?”

  Toji blew air out in a single blackened laugh, “I’m not one to share my toys.” Teeth connected to her lips, rolling the flesh then moving to her throat. Purple marked his territory trailing down. The heat of his breath tickled the space directly next to her ear, “Now, you’re going to beg for me to forgive you. Make myself clear, slut?” Toji’s grip on her tightened, “Or is doll better for something getting used?” A rough tug to the back of her hair triggered a low moan from her heaving chest. After so many sessions, she knew he didn’t really want an answer. He wanted a reason go harder.  

  The hand once in her hair now gripped her jaw, keeping her gaze on him, “Answer me, toy. Or do I need to pull a string to make that cock-obsessed mouth move?” On que, free digits wrapped around the gusset of her thong, second knuckle just grazing the entrance of her heat before he pulled the sodden fabric taught, letting it snap back to place. The impact triggered another empty clench and gasp. Her hips writhed, a sappy pout puffing the bitten lips. More.

  Toji maintained her heavy-lidded stare as he brought the knuckle to his lips. He watched as her own parted when his tongue swept up the sweetness collected at the joint. The way her hips rose to match the zipper’s height, the lock of her teeth on her finger, the desperation in her eyes – all of it made his stiffened cock twitch against her adorably hopeless grinding, “Looks like my toy is broken. Guess I’ll just fuck the apology out of it then.”

  A wicked grin whipped onto his handsome face. Her mouth opened in rebuttal, only to get interrupted, “This is to teach a lesson, toy. What did you do to deserve the prep?” The gravel in his tone grew slightly dark, “Couldn’t even get the dirt I paid for.” His long digits did work past the gusset, slipping over her entrance, gathering the arousal, “Look how wet you already are for me.” A heated coil pressed in her at the words. She knew what was coming now and every inch of her craved it.

  In what seemed to be a single motion, jeans and boxers were torn down. Her dress was hiked up with a satisfying peel, thong quite literally ripped off and thrown to the ground before she was flipped so that her back was pressed against his chest. Sturdy, veined arms wrapped at the backs of her thighs and under her knees. Truly, she was a doll for him to pleasure himself on and he made it a point to do so.

  Toji lowered her so that the thick tip of his length pressed against her heart-beating heart. Her walls fluttered around him as he slid in. “For a broken toy, you’re pretty damn tight for me - ready to be played with. Get used- fuck.” Amusement broke through as she bit back a breathless sigh. His cock filled her easily, slick sliding down his shaft and pooling at the base. As he fully sheathed himself, he craned his neck forward, lips pressing at the shell of her ear, “Now, I want to hear you beg, bitch.” With that, the man snaked back and up, setting a relentless pace from the beginning. The sound of skin slamming into wettened skin filling the room along with the aroma of arousal.

  She was stubborn. He was tireless. They’d both cum before the apology even had a chance to.