#true form sukuna

[m1stm3]

“you don’t believe that sex is the most intimate thing that two can do together?” you repeat sukuna’s previous words with a raised eyebrow, skepticism lacing every word you spoke.

“i had concubines before i was devoted to you. do you really think i see intercourse as something significant?” he doesn’t even spare you a glance, all four of his eyes focused on carefully peeling the fruits resting in the bowl in front of him (mangoes, to be specific. a special order he put in with uraume for you). your eyes narrow at his words.

“so you don’t see intercourse with me as something significant?” that earns you a roll of his eyes.

“i don’t recall those words leaving my lips, woman.” he glances at you with a bored look, already much too used to your antics and the nonsensical conclusions you often pulled from his words (“it’s called reading in between the lines, ryo.” you had insisted. he chose not to debate you on it).

he sighs when you go silent, seemingly waiting for an explanation from him that would fix the small pout gracing your lips. he would’ve let you sulk if you were anybody else, but you weren’t.

“i realize the significance humans place on it now that i am yours, but i partook in the act purely for pleasure before you. it was simply to fulfill my fleshly desires.” he doesn’t need to look at you to know that the frown on your face still hasn’t faltered. in fact, the displeased look on your face probably only deepened upon the mention of him being intimate with other women.

“human customs are foolish, that will never change.” his hand lifts to your lips, a cube of mango held delicately between his fingers. he continues speaking only after feeding you the fruit.

“but if my stubborn little wife sees it as something of importance, then it shall be so.” he says the last part with a sense of finality, as if it was a part of his life that he accepted a long, long time ago.

you contemplate his words for a moment, your posture easing against the lavish pillows of your shared bed. you stall on swallowing the piece of fruit on your tongue, considering a question in that ever curious mind of yours.

“what’s significant to you, ryo?”

he pauses for a brief moment but doesn’t answer, simply bringing another piece of fruit up to your lips (whether the action was out of care or to keep your mouth occupied was unclear).

his lack of an answer was as good of an answer as any, though.

this was significant to him. the way he cut and fed you soft fruit with hands that had slaughtered armies, handling you as if you were made of fine china. never yelling, never arguing.

the king of curses devoted himself to you because deep in his heart he acknowledged his subservience to you.

that is what’s significant to him.

[v1x3n]

thinking about trueform sukuna who loves overstimulating you to the max. you're riding him - well, not really. your sat up on his cock but two of his hands are gripping your hips, bouncing you up and down furiously.

one of his cocks, the bigger one, stretching out your poor pussy. reaching so deep, your stomach bulges out, showing the shape of his mighty cock. his other cock wasn't as bulky or tall as the other one, but it was still bigger than any other mans. that one was stuffed tight into your puckered hole, filling you up nicely. you couldn't get away from the pleasure as sukuna forces you to swallow his length over and over again. taking him whole was a hard thing but with a bit of force, you could do it.

the tongue that slides out from his stomachs mouth, licks a wet glob of spit on your clit, lapping at the small bud.

you whine loudly, tears brought to your eyes. you squirm, trying to get away as your legs shake angrily. "what's the matter?" his soothing words would have been nice despite his mocking grin that plasters his sweaty face.

you mumble out slurred words, while his two free hands are attached to your boobs. grabbing, grasping and pinching the skin. your nipples already swollen from the clamps he had clasped to them earlier. slight red glows at your sensitive nipples. you mewl loudly, tears dripping down your chin as you moan repetitively. your legs shake with a violent pace.

cum lashing out from your pussy, dripping down his cock as you squirt all over him. the mouth on his stomach seems to groan at the taste, lapping it up. his hands bounce you angrier, desperate the take every drip from in you.

your messy hair wafts around, sticking to your skin slightly. sweat covers you as your body is worn out from the past hour. "su-hah!" you moan out loudly. eyebrows pinching together.

"take it." he groans out, head falling back in laughter and pleasure. a hand that grips your hip harshly moves up to your stomach, pressing down hard. you whine as spurt out more liquid. "fucken messy girl."

[ratherchili]

𖹭 cw: fluff, suggestive, mdni

Ryomen Sukuna looks down at you from beneath furrowed brows as you kiss the corner of his tummy mouth. Even those auxiliary lips are drawn tight in a scowl.

"You waste your kisses there? Of all the things you could do with your mouth, this is what you choose?"

"Does it not please you, my lord?" You ask, feining an innocence that does not quite match the mischievous gleam in your eyes.

He only huffs in response, watching with gaurded interest as you trace the seam of his second mouth with your tongue. The tip of the thick, pink muscle inside - which seems to have a mind of it's own, at times - protrudes, drawn out by your attentions.

"Enough," he growls when you latch onto it, hollowing your cheeks as you attempt to draw at least part of the oversized tongue between your lips. You laugh as he drags you up to face him.

"Strange creature," he says, his voice soft, although he still frowns. One pair of hands clutch at your waist while the other cradles the back of your head as the king of curses urges you forward, pressing your soft mouth against his, the correct one, this time.

[gamblersdoll]

true form! sukuna can sense when you’re ovulating or when that time is coming.

and quite frankly, he loved both of those times. just a waiting game for him, seeing how long you can remain with this whole “fuck me , my period is coming soon if you dont” charade and it makes him chuckle, because a period doesnt stop shit for him. hell, it was common in the heian era.

however, he guesses that he can be a little less rough with you on your period. the heavy flows, the meanest cramps, fat and tender breasts, you feel everything for the next five or eight days. and because he is a man, he allows you to cling to him and he doesn’t get mad at that..

youre more focused on the cramps in your uterus and ass to focus on his heart beating faster, or when he shifts from uncomfortable to comfortable.

“uruame.” he beckons, a figure then coming out from the shadows of the corner in the room. “fetch her a heating pad, now.” and they only nod, leaving as soon as they walked in.

“you didnt have to do that..” you groan out, being tucked away in his arms and he scoffs. “what?”

“are you ungrateful, woman?” he asked, eyes flickering to you and a scowl on his face. “i dont have to do shit for you.”

“.. i am grateful, ryo.” you scoff back, not in the mood nor having the strength to argue.

“okay then,” he continues to rub circles in your back, a subconscious feeling that he loved when it came to feeling depths in your bones. they were smaller than his, you were smaller than him.

just shut up and let him be a man to take care of you.

[breakingb4tz]

sukuspider spiderkuna

i just thought itd be cool ☆

++ doodles ... i probably should've done designing before jumping into the illustration but hey he still looks cool

[bluespecterr]

I’m out here not posting like I haven’t been consistently drawing 😭

[chuulyssa]

it's not sukuna's fault you're so irresistible

smut nsfw mdni

aghhhh trueform!sukuna kissing you so hard, a hand caressing your face, another behind your head to press you further into the kiss, and the other two resting protectively on your hips and waist to hold you in place. so romantic, you didn't ever think the king of curses had a side so innocent to him.

trueform!sukuna who likes using his body to bring you and ultimately himself the max amount of pleasure he can derive with it. the hands on your hips slowly slide down, one to your ass and the other inside your panties. he then switches from calmly kissing you to fucking you with his fingers, and it's so sudden, you can't even comprehend the fingers inside your cute cunt.

trueform!sukuna who purposely conjures a mouth on the hand inside your panties, so when he slips his fingers inside you, he can simultaneously eat you out relentlessly while making out with you romantically. and you're so dazed, all you feel is fucking pleasure. loads of it. but too much of anything is bad, right?

trueform!sukuna whose foreplays are just another synonym for torture. his mouth(s) licking and sucking on every part of your body, hands holding you firmly in place so you can't even move away, or hit his chest, or kick him, or even beg for his cock. all you can do is wait till when he gets satisfied enough to give time for his own pleasure, and you slowly edge towards your 5th orgasm of the night.

trueform!sukuna who just can't wait to explore every inch of your body with his hands, and of course, mouth(s). by the time he's done with just the prep, you're already overstimulated, and he would have felt sorry that you had to take his dick in as well now after all that torture. all the while you don't understand how a simple kiss turned into dirty sex.

but he's just the king of curses a boy 🎀

© chuulyssa 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[celinelikecelinedior]

Sauna with ‘Kuna

First time writing smut on here. I give this a 6.5/10. Inspired but a random thought I had and my love for Sukuna. Enjoy-!

I may have a bit of typos even though I have checked it multiple times.

Watch out- true form Sukuna (if you squint),

The King of Curses wasn’t the type of person to do things slow and sensual. He was always too rough and too mean with the way he handled you with your brains fucked out. Restraining your hands while he eats you out so you can’t grip anything but take it, slapping and spitting on your puffy flesh in between your thighs, marking all over and whenever he pleases - it’s not the first time some of the servants of his palace has walked in on the two of in the corridors. Even forcing you regardless of your gagging and cries as he pushes your head down his thick and gritty cock.

Going slow with Sukuna is rare…a lot lesser than blue moons - probably 3 times a year and it’s only if he is willing not on your terms. And each time you guys have lazy and slow sex, most of the time it’s reverse/cowgirl because he doesn’t have the endurance to control his energy when on top of you or when he is completely worn out (just sleepy) - but still willing you straddle him still while he rocks into you slowly - lotus position. He does this when he wants to apologise for something he did - he knows you love it. But most of the times it turns into him fucking up into making you drool and numb on top of him. He just can’t resist pulling out scream from you.

And one out of those three times was your lucky day. You just loved feeling every vein and throb of his meaty head in a not so fast fashion. It made you so full how you can steadily feel him hit your cervix over and over again. The slow build up was so intoxicating which made your head tilt back each time your cunt lowered itself on your husbands cock.

“S’good…” you moaned as you gripped his thighs sitting on him in reverse cowgirl. Sweat bead forming on your forehead and arms as you try to maintain your grip and momentum on him. Your hips quivering from time to time as you feel him stretch you out. The sweat hitting the wooden floor beneath you as the heat of the moment and steam of the sauna hit you making this sensation so still and thick.

Honestly you couldn’t tell if Sukuna liked being lazy with you. Most times he had a bland expression with a few grunts and groans when your tight cunt squeezes him or when he is about to cum in you. But this time - oh, it was different. Too different. You couldn’t really see his face because your back was facing him but the noises he let out? It was something unheard of. Murmuring, slight whimpering, moans and groans filling up the still and thick sauna.

You wondered to yourself if the sauna is making him be this way or it was you or both..? Whatever it was it’s turning you on even more.

Sukuna manspread on the wooden bench of sauna while you drag his painfully hard and enticingly thick cock in and out of your sinful cunt.

“…Just like that. Hah- so fucking good for me” He hushed out, his voice low and heavy not wanting to break this tension.

But of course Sukuna can’t go a day without degrading you.

“Such an ungrateful human. You don’t like the way I handle you regular?” He brings his hands to slap your ass harshly - you whimper a little. The slippery feeling on your cheeks making it even sting so sweetly. You may not be a curse with eyes at the back of your head but you can see how he is sticking his eyes as your throbbing pussy going in and out of him. “Ha- answer me..”

“Kuna..” you whine not wanting to give an answer. You honestly like him in all different ways but this one is just a special kind and rarely done.

“D-don’t ‘kuna’ me. You prefer taking me this way?…All- fuck-“ His words hang when he feels you balls deep “A-all boring and ah-“ you slid up again with his tip kissing your entrance slightly and back down again, inching slower - oh you were teasing how sensitive he was right now.

“…fu-ck- you-“. He chokes out then slaps your cheeks again.

Sukuna is a bit pissed at himself for liking this. He shouldn’t be liking this. Slow and sensual? That’s not him. He likes things aggressive and all under his control. He is the King of Curses, no little female human should make his cock feel this good in this manner.

Even though it’s not his style to do this, not once does he grips your hips to guide you. He purely lets you do what you want because you’re his wife, his queen.

He lets out a low guttural moan. “Do that again-“ He slaps your cheeks but this time a bit needy like a rider trying to make a horse go faster. “Hah- what..?” You slid up again to his tip

“Ah- y-yes- fuck- on my tip baby” He tilts his head back on the wooden bench. Lewd and muffled moans trailing on his lips “Dance on my fucking tip like that” he hoarsely said as he grips the plum flesh of your ass.

You do as he says because you just LOVE seeing him this way. So pussydrunk on you. You let out a moan in acknowledgment to his request and it starts to hit you too.

You arch your back a little more to feel his tips on your slick and slippery folds. You start moaning a bit more. Feeling his mushroom head slightly open and close up your vagina was a whole new feeling.

“You feel that?” He murmured sliding his hands up your waist, eyes boring at the beautiful view in front of him. “You feel how needy my cock is for you? Shouldn’t be making me like…this-“

What haven’t you guys done this before? Oh- Sukuna doesn’t do slow.

“Ah- ahha~ ah-“ you let out filthy breath moans as you grip his things even more. Your own thighs were even shaking from the unusual angle you had to hold to roll your hips on his tip.

Sukuna couldn’t miss this view for the world. He had to tilt his hands back up with the most sluttiest expression he has ever put on to admire the way you disgustingly smear your mixed fluids on his tip. Precum sipping out from him as you swirl it all around him.

“f-fuuuuk…” He moans- almost a whimper. Goodness, how he hates you reducing him to this but he doesn’t want it to end. Not ever. “Oh…yes - yes - yes, just like fucking that baby. So fucking good. Talk to me princess, tell me how it is” Every time he asks you to speak up you do so extremely swiftly without hesitation. Almost like a robot on command but just for him.

“Ha- i-it’s - good baby, it’s good. You feel so good. I love it- I love your cock, love it when your cock stretches me so slow and good” You start rambling in that needy and desperate voice of yours. Not a single thought process is occurring in you, not when you’re this lost on the king of curses dick.

“Yeah you do. You love this c-cock so much.” He says in between grunts and groans, you were making his tip turn white with all the juices mixing. Sukuna confessing like this was a whole new level of self realisation for both you and him. Sounds escaping him that you never thought possible - hell, calling out your name in ways you didn’t know was possible. Oh, how lost he was while you were on him. He couldn’t get enough of your sweet and tight pussy.

“You love it so much- oh, it’s fucking yours. It’s your cock to handle baby - ah- f-fuck-!” He grunts out.

Your walls missed the bigger stretch inside so you just had to sink back down on him. You both let out a hot and breath moan of relief. Pushing all mixed white juices to the base of his meaty cock making a ring. You slid down so easily on him it made his cock feel like home in your gummy and leaking pussy.

For the time he felt ashamed to moan out loud he muttered- “You’re… you feel… fuck— So good, so good, so good…” and some “too tight…you little shit-“

With a few more steady and deliberate strokes on his thick and heavy shaft, you both felt an immense pending blow building up.

Your moans more vocal and consistent, his voice straining and groaning as he call out his wife name.

“Uhhh - uhh - ah - fuck baby- yes, yes, yes”. His eyes and judgments are clouded as he feels his cum building up. Your voice growing a pitch higher as that familiar knot ties your stomach. “K-kuna…hah- I-I’m gunna-”. “Shut up-“ he harshly says with a ragged and breathy voice.

You both know the two of you were about to cum. He doesn’t need you to say it. With the way your pussy is gripping him like some evil vixen was clear as day for him. His dick throbbing and kissing your cervix. You didn’t bother to move in n’ out of him too much. You wanted his cum to splatter so close to your womb.

“T-this cursed pussy - ahh- o-of yours- s-so fucking evil” He slaps your ass harshly multiple times until he grips this flesh hard.

“Cum dammit” He says almost impatiently as he hold his load out for you. His eye brows furrowed and mouth opened not letting a single sound kept hidden. “ohh..fuck fuck fuck fu—ck” you moaned so desperately as your legs began to shake.

Your sounds and slick skin touching each other mixes with the steamy air. You were both a hot and sweaty mess. A mess indeed- all your mixed sticky and slimy juices were glistening all over your thigh and a little bit on your ass.

This wasn’t torture. It was worship. You were worshipping his cock in the most appropriate way. Every curve and vein etching itself in your walls.

You both couldn’t stop call in out each other’s name while your releases came crashing down. Eyes rolling, skin sweaty, room hot and steamy. It was the perfect combination.

You sank so low on him his balls pecked clit. Your fluids flowing down on him and how he loved seeing it come down like a little reward for him. His overflowing in you, the hot and fast spreading making your toes to curl and skin to shiver “fuck-“ you whimpered out. The both of your breaths mingling in the air together.

He slaps your ass, that familiar sting hitting you. “Such a good wife.” He praised - which was a bit rare. “Come lay on me-“. He firmly yet with measured grip pulled your arm so your back can lay on his chest.

He kissed your neck and shoulder. Tongue tasting your slippery - a bit of a salty body. He brought one of his hands to grope your breasts and give it a good knead like he owns it - and he does. Still in him, his cock grows a bit soft in you.

“So you do like it when I fuck you slowly-“ you tried to tease but he wouldn’t let you finish.

“Shut up. Don’t let it get to you. It’s not an often event” he bit back, mouthful on your neck.

“Don’t be shy about it kuna…” you loved teasing him when you got the chance.

“Give it a rest” He said hotly and huskily against your neck. He then uses his lower hands to push your legs up to your chest.

“Sukuna- what are you-?” You said eyes widen.

“Enough of your little act”. A grin growing on his face. You couldn’t see it but feel it. You even felt his cock growing hard and stiff in you. This man-

- He was putting you in a Full Nelson

[frenchcoucou]

let me hit? 😅

ac: youka_i

[phyx-m]

Beneath The Silk | True form Sukuna x Reader

🔗 Masterlist

Chapter 39: Beautiful Thorn

Chapter 38

🔗 Songs for this chapter:

Mine - Melt Motif Sand - Einstürzende Neubauten (for Sukuna’s POV) Two-Headed Mother - Ethel Cain

A few weeks later, November…

The moon hangs like a silver, dripping eye, lachrymose and spilling light through the branches overhead.

It offers just enough to see by as Ayana picks her way through the forest east of the shrine, her heavy pants misting in the chilly air.

It’s quiet out here, but you’re not alone.

You know something stirs in the darkness, one creature you’re hunting and another hunting you.

Bowstring pressing firm across your chest, your hankyū is strapped at your side. Or rather, Sukuna’s hankyū. You’ve yet to learn its origins. But weeks spent in training with him for days, hours, and seconds at a time under the pretense of nothing more than two people being shoved together have made you curious to know more about him. Disturbingly, given everything he’s done.

Either way, the weapon stays with you, along with a quiver full of arrows.

Guiding your mare around a moonlit trunk, you scan your surroundings. 

This morning, you woke to a frost-covered ground, and despite tugging the fabric of your suikan tightly against you, the invading cold slips through the gaps.

Something warm right now would be nice, a fire or the heat of climbing under a pile of blankets.

“Where are you?” you whisper, peering into the black, hoping to spot the cursed spirit you’ve been stalking so you can return to the shrine and do just that.

According to Uraume, curses have been appearing near Sukuna’s domain. With the increased attacks, killings and rapes, these areas have become fertile breeding grounds for them, and the King of Curses saw an opportunity. Almost every night, he sends you out here to take one down. Succeed, and he promises to grant you information of your choosing about the growing tensions with the capital, but more importantly, about your sister.

The only problem? You haven’t killed one yet.

Because he is out here, too, tracking you like it’s some perverse game of cat-and-mouse. Every time you get close, he sabotages it, stealing the kill for himself, dangling promises just within reach, and then yanking them away.

You’re allowed to try. But you’re never allowed to win.

Bastard.

Nudging your mare deeper into the woods, you feel heat curl at your neck. Energy sits there. His, or something else?

It feels weaker than Sukuna’s, and he’s been suppressing his when he toys with you, slipping through the dark to sneak up whenever he pleases.

With that thought, the curse you’re tracking must be close.

Clearing a fallen tree, you stand in the saddle, absorbing the shock as Ayana’s hooves strike the ground, and you don’t make it far before something crashes through the underbrush to your right.

Your bow is already up. Bloodied arrow nocked, glove stripped from your bare, discoloured hand gripping the riser, fingers slick where you sliced the arrow tip along your index—saving the other four in case you miss.

You steady your aim into the night, bracing for movement.

Nothing shows itself.

But you can feel it watching. Waiting. 

After a few seconds, your stomach tightens.

“Come out,” you hiss into the murky depths, eyes flicking back and forth. “I know you’re there.”

Quiet.

Silence.

You cock your head. Was that a sound?

No.

Only the haunting creak of trees and the distant rush of water answer your demand.

Exhaling, your pulse throbs, breath steaming the air. One, two, three heartbeats pass before a low scrape rakes through the maze of trees. Something large drags itself across the ground. Your eyes narrow, searching for the curse to reveal itself.

Still, nothing.

Tossing her head, Ayana whinnies as she prances sideways. You tighten your thighs around her ribs, knees holding firm to keep your hands free.

“Stay calm, girl,” you murmur, fingers twitching around your weapon. The scent of your own blood crawls into your—

Crack!

Twigs snap to your left.

You whip your head around.

In the distance, through the growth, four glowing red eyes pierce through the night, locked onto you.

Two on the left. Two larger, angled ones on the right. Demonic.

Shit.

Twisting fully in the saddle, you raise your bow, arrow drawn. You’ve become a decent shot, even in the dark, but by the time you take aim, the monster is already gone.

“Fuck.”

Now you know what this means.

He’s close.

Close enough now to reach you and your quarry and either rush in to ruin it or wait it out, let you fight, then flick his wrist and kill it himself.

You won’t let that happen.

You’re too restless and desperate for answers, wanting to find and talk with your sister.

So, this kill will be—

A low, gurgling bellow rises out of the forest.

The cry peaks, wavers, then dies.

You go still. Every hair lifts down your already frozen spine.

Forcing yourself to move, you swing back in the saddle, turning to your right. In the dim, two enormous, putrid yellow eyes flicker open, their slimy orbs catching the faintest light. They blink, and a second, smaller pair follows, unevenly set above the first.

“C-c-come t-to me.”

A voice croons out, phlegmy and raspy, from around a mound of massive trees.

Goosebumps crawl along your skin. It’s trying to mimic a human.

“Show yourself!” you demand, shifting in the saddle. Frozen. If it steps out too fast, you might miss.

Another deep bellow rings out.

Crunch.

Something takes a step.

Branches begin to shake. Twigs snap.

This thing is coming.

Staring into the dark, you wait, arm extended, bow poised. Ready.

Come on.

A low, wet rumble sounds through the air like an animal struggling to breathe.

Come on!

Ahead, the cursed spirit lumbers into view, its arrival measured in beats of six as it drags its necrotic form from the shadows. Six. Because it crawls on six elongated legs, each dislocated in places, each ending with bony fingers sharp with talons, and as it paces closer, each limb moving in and out of sync.

“Well…” You swallow. “Not exactly what I had in mind.”

You can’t see all of it, but what you can is fucking huge —a disfigured bovine head atop an insect’s body. Easily the largest curse you’ve encountered. If it reared onto its hind legs, it would stand at least three Sukunas tall, maybe more.

“I can s-s-smell you.” The creature gurgles, words clicking from a small mouth crammed with broken, uneven teeth. “I can s-smell yo-ou, girl.”

Moving low to the ground, it lurches forward, its body too heavy for its legs. Yet, despite its awkward gait, it moves in sharp, unpredictable bursts, still disturbingly fast.

Click. Click. Clack. Clack.

It jerks and sways forward, its talons scraping across the earth, clicking against stone, snagging on roots, raking through the soil.

It gets closer.

Ayana rears, her eyes rolling back white, skittish as the thing draws up.

Fuck.

Wrapping your thumb tight over the bowstring, you steady her again with your legs, then draw the arrow back further, the fletching grazing your ear.

The curse stills, eyes questing to the bloodied arrow tip. It blinks, then takes two long, rattling huffs into the air. Sniffing. The mandibles on either side of its squat mouth twitch before drool spills forward, sizzling onto the forest floor.

“I-I can smell you r-rotting girl. B-b-blighted one. I c-can smell you.”

Its chattering intensifies, and at its throat, it convulses once before a half-eaten lump of human flesh spills from its maw, slapping wetly between its front legs. There are parts among the mess, tiny hands, small, broken feet.

Stomach churning, your nose scrunches at the sight. You can smell it too. The reek of it. Acidic, tangy. The taste coats the roof of your mouth like… poison. Its spit is poisonous. You know that much. And you’re not about to let it get close to confirm it.

Taking a few swaying steps, the curse lowers its head and lifts the back of its body, like it’s making itself bigger.

Perfect. A larger target.

Bowstring quivering in hand, you loose it.

The arrow cuts through the night.

And skims off its back.

No.

It doesn’t just skim. It deflects off of it.

A carapace.

Oh.

Dropping the bow to your side, you carefully retake the reins with your gloved hand, both now trembling. You needed to move because you were pretty sure this thing was about to—

It goes still, spreads all six of its legs—

—and lunges.

The forest falls silent as it comes.  

Six horrifying, sharp hands stretch out toward you, grasping and reaching.  

You’re already moving.  

Digging your heels into Ayana’s sides, you drive her into a tight circle, breaking into a gallop and fleeing.

Branches and trees whip past, forcing you to duck close to your mare’s neck. She weaves between oaks and fallen logs, the moonlight flickering in and out of view.  

Dammit. 

You hesitated too long. Just like the first time, you faced one of these abominations. Now, you’ve ended up as the hunted. You needed to escape or turn around and attempt to end it.

Gathering Ayana into another sharp turn, you drive her left, then right. The sound of snapping teeth and splintering bone rips through the night.  

The curse is right behind you.

Glancing back, fear shivers over you. It tears through brush and trees like they’re nothing. And any moment now, it will be on you.

As it draws closer, pressure picks its way at your senses, moving along your skin, down your spine, to the ends of your toes. The whole forest plunges, overwhelmed by energy.  

You don’t need sharp instincts to tell you when the greater threat is about to make an entrance.

And it only takes seconds.

He comes out of fucking nowhere, erupting from the dark, cutting through the trees on his mount with crazed, maniacal laughter. In and out, branches whip past as he weaves, moving parallel to your right, glimpses of pink hair slipping between light and shadow.

Eyes narrowing, you see a bit of a grin, some teeth. The bravado. Ecstatic red eyes.

The King of Curses is enjoying himself far too much while you’re here, running for your miserable life.

But you can’t think about that. You need to figure out how to kill the cursed spirit before he does.  

Turning away, you lift your bow, reach for another arrow, slice your pinky, and nock it.  

Twisting in the saddle, thighs holding on tight, you turn fully toward the curse—only paces away, closing the distance fast—when suddenly, one of its legs snaps out toward you.  

A talon slams into your body. It sinks in deep. Ripping through muscle and cloth and skin in a single, brutal tear before pulling free.

Your vision burns.  

Your breath locks. 

Pain explodes through your thigh, flesh hooked open and peeled away.  

An agonized whimper tries to force its way up but lodges in your throat before you swallow it down, bracing yourself, you focus on the damn thing’s putrid eyes—your target this time.

Arrow wavering, you’re ready to release it, to let your decay take hold and end it.

But it’s too late.

Sukuna finally closes in, his massive horse pounding right beside you. Grinning, he glances back, stops his mount, all while his upper right arm swings up and in one smooth motion, he swipes the air.

Flick.

The force of his attack cuts through the curse. It lets out a pained bellow before losing balance and crashes into a massive tree, slamming hard enough to shake the branches before it collapses.

Not dead. It wasn’t a fatal slice.

Because this man is fucking toying with you.

Whipping Ayana around into a frantic pivot, you race back toward it.  

This can still be your kill.  

You can still get answers.  

You can still take this victory.  

Sukuna’s obsidian mount sidles up beside the fallen curse, and he swings off, his weight crushing into the undergrowth.

“No!”

You barrel toward him just as he lifts his upper right arm again, preparing to finish it off.

On the ground, at his feet, the curse convulses as it heals its own body, its legs trembling against the dirt, eyes wide, twitching and blinking as milky-white residue leaks from the sockets.

You keep riding, keep going, until, within reach of the King of Curses’ enormous back, you secure your bow, slide your unused, bloodied arrow into the quiver, pivot and launch yourself at him.

Ayana keeps going.

You don’t.

You collide with him. Hard.

His body is like a wall, the impact nearly taking the air from your lungs.

But you hold on.

Every muscle in him tightens, tendons going rigid. He must have sensed you coming because the moment your arms loop around his thick neck—one bloody hand, one gloved, both desperately reaching for his face as a distraction—his upper hands clamp down around your wrists, stopping you cold.

“Heh,” he breathes in a growl, smirking over his shoulder at you clinging to him, dangling above the earth. “If you wanted to be this close to me, you could’ve just—” His grip tightens until it hurts. “—begged!”

Snarling, he throws you.

Everything goes distant and fuzzy as you hit the ground and spill through the undergrowth, bashing and tumbling until you come to a stop.

A heartbeat later, you’re up.

Copper and salt paint your tongue. You ignore it, push your energy through your body, and fall into motion, training taking over.

Catching sight of Sukuna aligning his middle and index fingers with the cursed spirit, you break into a sprint.

Paces away, you lift your uninjured hand, energy moving around it. You pull back, then strike, knocking aside his upper right arm.

It whips sideways. The attack misses.

The surrounding trees and foliage split apart, sliced clean through, crashing down to the earth in halves.

The monster cocks its head at you.

“You little shit,” he hisses viciously, baring his teeth. “Is that how you want to play?”

He looks like the devil, but when he’s knocked down just once, it’s almost funny.

You nearly flash him a lazy, playful smile, but the moment is gone because his massive palm slams into your chest, sending you sprawling onto your back.

The dark forest alights before your eyes. A dull ringing strikes your ears.

You cough once.

But stubbornly, you’re pushing up. Again.

“That kill—” You suck in a breath, get to your feet. “—is mine!” you snarl.

Snatching the bloodied arrow still sitting in your quiver, you lunge for his lower left bicep and drive the arrowhead through his kimono sleeve and deep into the muscle, down to the bone.  

Sukuna only turns to face you, his mouth twitching.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he coos through his teeth, lifting one massive foot.

You release the wooden shaft and step back, feet scuffing over dirt.

“That was stupid.”

You don’t have time to run as the flat of his foot pushes you down, pinning to your chest and keeping you on the cold, hard ground.

Above, the moon still hangs, strung up there quietly.

Your eyes snap to Sukuna.

He tilts his head, looking down at you.

“I do love this angle of you, though,” he drawls, keeping his foot on your sternum while he watches you go still beneath the heavy weight of him.

“It’s so delicate.” His smirk grows. “And so easy to crush.”

Reaching for the arrow sprouting from his arm, he rips it free, and through the freshly torn, bloodied hole in his kimono, you catch the rot mottling across his skin. With a small twitch of his arm, he heals it. Something he’s been getting used to over the last few weeks—spot-healing your decay whenever you do manage to come in contact with him.

Which is rare.

Looking up, you lock eyes with all four of his as he lifts his foot away and crouches over you. His upper left hand plants beside your head, while his lower left collects your wrists, pinning them together against your stomach. At your throat, his lower right clamps down, engulfing it entirely, fingers meeting at the back of your neck, overlapping slightly. How easily he could crush you, indeed.

Keeping you trapped under him, he leans in.

“You were so close,” he whispers with a smirk, tightening his grip, forcing your chin to lift. His mouth parts slightly, pleasure darting through his features as you arch up for him, instinctively relieving the tension.

Everything goes still except for the rise and fall of your chest, the adrenaline pounding through your veins, the hum of your heartbeat caught in his dominance.

You swallow.

“So close…” he repeats softly.

His upper right arm swings upward.

Though you can’t turn your head to see, you hear the curse let out a final, piercing shriek before silence swallows the night.  

Slowly, Sukuna turns his predatory attention back to you. His massive frame eclipses the sky, blotting out the standing trees and stars and trapping you in the darkness with him.

You blink up, and he leans in. Leans in until your breaths mingle. Until that consecutive pattern inside red stares back. Blinks back.

Suddenly, your skin feels too tight because you know you’ve lost again.

How quickly you forget yourself.

“You lose,” he whispers, squeezing your throat once more before moving that hand down to heal your bleeding fingertips. “Another failure. Another wasted night.”

Retrieving all four hands, he pulls away, rising to his full height as he straightens his kimono.

“That’s because—” Jaw clenched, you push yourself up onto wobbly legs. “—you keep interfering,” you spit, voice rising.

He huffs.

“You were too slow.”

“Bullshit!” You stamp a foot, frustration spreading inside your stomach. “You’ve been doing it night after night, holding me back so I don’t win!”

Mouth curving in disgust, Sukuna scoffs while his eyes drag over you.

“How childish,” he sneers with flashing teeth. “It’s because you hesitate. You always need an extra push to fight. Otherwise, you'd just lie down like an animal, baring its throat.”

“I don—”

“You did with me. More than once.” He crosses his upper arms over his chest. “You did with your first curse. You did just now. You hesitated at the Kasai compound when you could’ve started fighting. You probably could have killed that man, the one who scared you so badly you pissed yourself.” He pauses, cocking his slitted eyebrow. “You hesitated with Sayuri. Even after she crushed your windpipe, stabbed you, stabbed Ren. When she had the knife to your throat, ready to end you. I felt your cursed energy then. But still, you hesitated.”  

You swallow softly. 

“That was different…”  

Sukuna shakes his head.

“She was nothing more than an obsessed little bitch. Flesh, you could have so easily destroyed, and if you hadn’t hesitated, you wouldn’t have needed me at all. So why?” 

Now, you hesitate.  

“... She reminded me of someone else.”

Of a face and eyes too familiar to yours. Like someone you love. Like a sister.

Uncrossing his arms, the King of Curses huffs at your answer.

“Any hierarchy not dictated by strength is meaningless,” he says, his voice hollow, lacking emotion. “The weak exist to be stepped over. That’s their purpose. If they can’t rise, they should surrender to those who can. You’re still here because you’re still weak. And until you stop hesitating, this is where you remain.”

Turning from you, he walks away toward his mount, its coat smudging against the dark.

“You’ll just have to try harder next time.” Sukuna swings a leg over the saddle and settles in.

Next time.

Your nostrils flare before you take a breath, eyes lifting toward the sky.

A time ago, you were only ever supposed to be here for two months.

“Or don’t.” Taking the reins in his upper hands, Sukuna glances down at you. “Stay trapped here. That choice? It’s entirely up to you.”

* * * * *

What am I going to do with you?

The thought has crept around in his mind daily these past few weeks, living on a loop, moving through his thoughts too often. Watching your progress has been intriguing. Watching you ask for bits of information about your sister, even more so. All the while seeing you grow and become stronger. Change. You were transforming before his eyes, all in the hope of leaving his shrine one day.

Leaving.

And there it is again.

That sliver. Pushing deeper into his viscera. Into unwanted places.

So, what is he going to do with you?

His nuisance. His distraction.

His soft woman in bloom.

He huffs.

It’s infuriating, this question.

Under the heavy, streaming shadows of the trees, the clop of his mount’s hooves pushes away his thoughts. Peering over his left shoulder, Ayana’s coat is melted snow in the dark, and you ride atop her, behind him, quiet, keeping your distance, bottom lip pursed. Likely sulking over both his cultivation of your strength and his restriction of it.

But slowly, even if you didn’t know, you, his opposite, is becoming something more. Because he can see it. Night after night, watching you hunt in the forests. Watching you fight. Alone. Brave. Becoming more. 

And isn’t this what he wanted to see?

It is.

Was.

Always had been.

That’s what he keeps reminding himself.

Turning back in the saddle, his eyes wander to the path ahead to the road that will return you both to the shrine. With a nudge to his mount’s sides, it moves into a canter, carrying him forward.

It takes an hour, and by the time you both arrive, it’s late. Neither of you has spoken. Dismounting in the stables, you both see to your horses before stepping back into the night.  

The air stings now. Snow will begin falling soon, blanketing the grounds, tightening its hold on everything. With supplies running low and provisions stretched thin, the cold will make things more precarious. While the attacks on his domain have quieted in the past week, he’s not sure what that silence means. The serpent is at rest, but that could be more dangerous than one in motion, which is why he’s sent Uraume away to gather whatever information can be found.

Things will shift any day now. He’ll need to tell you the truth soon.

And when that happens, where will you end up?

Lost? 

Lost from here. Lost from him. Perhaps lost from yourself.

He flicks his gaze to you as you walk silently behind him. He sees the cloth you tied around your limping leg, and hears the grating chattering sound of your teeth against the night.

You need warmth.

One of your favoured words.

“This way,” he grumbles, motioning two fingers before striding along the shrine’s perimeter toward his private garden.

Before leaving, he had requested a bath for his return, and he intends to soak in it for hours, if only to think.  

The faint tap of your footsteps behind him tells him you’re close, and when the bathing pavilion comes into view, he doesn’t slow, stepping inside and you follow. A wall of steam hits him, his four eyes tracing how your shoulders immediately drop, the heat easing the tension there.  

“Why are we here?” you ask, moving deeper inside and across the space like a nosy creature.

“I’d think it’s obvious.”

Smoothly, he steps out of his sandals and drops his lower hands to peel off his tabi socks. The moment his bare feet touch the warmed wood, he feels grounded. And he keeps watching you, sees you step forward, drawn to the steaming cypress bath, which sits deep. Built to accommodate something like him, with all his limbs and size.

With his attention held on you, he studies how you lean toward the mist as if you can absorb that comfort just by looking at it, all while your mouth moves, saying something in response, but he doesn’t hear it.  

He’s thinking instead.

Of how he likes the idea of your body wet and warm.

How he hasn’t seen or touched it in weeks.

How he likes the thought of you tending to him. 

Worshipping him.

Of endless nights and days spent like this.

Fuck.

His jaw tightens.

Fucking pathetic.

“This must take an impossible amount of water to fill,” you murmur, half to yourself, leaning over the bath with your back to him. “How do they even heat it all? Buckets carried back and forth? That would take—” You gesture vaguely, your gloved fingers flicking in loose circles as you try to estimate. “A ridiculous amount of time. Unless there’s some sort of system?”

He doesn’t answer.

Only watches.

The little huff of breath as you shift on your feet, the absent way your fingers twitch and fidget, still staring into the bathwater.

“Maybe they keep a fire going underneath? But then, wouldn’t the wood start to burn? Unless there’s some kind of stone lining the base, but even then—” You shake your head. “I can’t imagine how often they have to refill this. Or how many people it takes. Or how much wood. That’s a lot of effort for one bath.”

He grumbles a word that means nothing to him, simply to break the sound of your voice tumbling out. And your head tilts slightly as if considering another angle, flashing that scar he left on your neck.

“Do they reuse the water? No, that would be disgusting—” You pause. “Wait, do they?”

“No,” he comments, silently coming up behind you. “They don’t.”

His lower hands catch around the backs of your thighs while his upper hands press against your back and shoulder. With a pull, he lifts you, drawing you flush against his chest. He hears your pulse come to life, feels your legs swing up. His lower arms slide beneath the crook of your knees while the other braces your thighs, locking them over his forearm until you’re caught against him. The movement is so smooth and steady, the weight of you barely registering to him. And he assumes this barely registers to you because all he hears is the air catch in your throat, whatever words you meant to say disappearing as he takes one step forward.

And simply lets you go.

* * * * *

Heat closes over you. Feet, legs, torso, shoulders, head.

Warmth rushes in, sinking past your cold skin and bones, soaking your clothing, dragging you under. It’s what you longed for tonight, but it catches you off guard. And you just keep sinking, feeling the wound in your thigh pinch only for a moment before your backside meets the wooden bottom, and you push up with your feet.

“Sukuna!”

Parting the surface with a sharp inhale, his name sputters between breaths.

The demon is already chuckling deviously to himself as you shove your hair aside and wade toward the edge, water sloshing up to your chest. Reaching the rim, you plant your palms down, ready to push up, but when your gaze lifts, you stop.

Hakama, tabi socks and sandals rest neatly across the wooden deck. Sukuna’s massive feet and inked ankles come into view. You tip your head further back, just in time to see his obi slip loose and fall to the ground in front of you. Then, all four of his hands release the front panels of his kimono, and everything drops.

Your eyes shoot away.

“What are you doing?” you ask, voice rising as you fix your stare on the misting surface.

Heat finds its way to your cheeks.

Yes, you caught sight of tattooed thighs and two thick, inked cocks, and damn it, you want to look again.

But you don’t.

Because if you do, he’ll likely call you a pervert again for ogling him.

“I’m about to bathe,” he states calmly as if speaking the obvious. Footsteps tap around the tub’s perimeter before heavy feet slap onto the wooden steps. A splash sounds at your back. You hear him sink into the water, another step, and then a smooth descent. It grows quiet, only the droplets of water sound in the quiet.

“And you’re going to wash me.”

“The hell I am,” you snap over your shoulder, steadying yourself to lift your drenched figure onto the ledge. “You’ve got four perfectly good hands. Use them.”

You push up, and immediately, a single tug on your clothing sends you stumbling backward, a startled noise slipping from your lips as you plunge back into the tub.

Righting yourself, Sukuna’s very imposing frame swims into view, his annoyed expression following soon after.

“I’ve spent the better part of a month training you,” he sneers, leaning in. The water laps below his stomach maw, and lower, your eyes catch the smattering of dark hair trailing from his navel, disappearing below the surface. “I’ve housed you, kept you from being dragged to the capital to submit to whatever fate they have planned, fed you with what little food we have here—and this is what I get?” His hand reaches out, seizing the front of your clothing, yanking you close. “You’ve learned to shoot from the saddle, refined your technique beyond anything you ever managed before, gone from a smothered, obedient mutt to something almost capable. Still weak, but growing.” His grip tightens. “And now you think you can say no?”

Yes?

How important is your dignity or your sanity at this point? Washing him feels too close to care—intimate, too much like toppling walls you worked hard to rebuild.

With that thought, you shoot him a murderous glare.

The King of Curses only pouts down at you, his slitted eyebrow cutting in.

“What a fearsome little frown you wear,” he coos before flicking your temple and stepping away.

You wince and turn, intending to leave, but something slaps your shoulder. When you reach for it, your fingers close around a damp piece of cloth.

“You’ll wash me,” he restates, this time a little more demanding.

Bastard.

Squeezing the fabric tight into your fist, you turn to him, only for every thought to trickle away.

Through the soft veil of steam, he lounges, bare torso rising from the water, upper arms sprawled along the rim of the bath while the second pair remain submerged. The damp heat has loosened his hair, pink strands clinging messily to his forehead no matter how often he pushes them back. Fresh droplets slide down his chest, catching the low light of the sole lantern in the space as he watches you, that smug, shit-eating grin spreading across his face.

Just a momentary lapse. That’s all.

Stepping closer, you avert your gaze. 

“What?” He clicks his tongue. “Don’t tell me you’re shy now. You’ve already seen everything.”

True. 

“That was weeks ago,” you mutter, stepping between his legs as he widens them, the water steaming thick enough to obscure what rests below the surface.

“Memory fades.”

“Oh, does it now?” More smugness in his voice.

“Yes.”

No, you remember.

“Then I must not have made much of an impression.”

You did.

You shrug.

Surprisingly, he says nothing.

Sinking to your knees onto the submerged ledge, pain flares in your thigh, the skin around the wound pruning and tightening in the warm water. You clench your teeth, ignoring it.

“At least let me remove my gloves.”

They’re soaked, making them feel heavy and uncomfortable against your fingers.

“No,” he hums, letting his head rest on the tub’s rim, all four eyes drifting shut. “That way, you can reach the best places.”

“I’m not washing your dicks or your ass,” you blurt quickly. “That’s entirely your problem.”

He meant those, right?

Grinning, he opens his bottom pair of eyes and flicks his fingers, sending a splash of water in your direction.

“Really?” You blink through the droplets clinging to your lashes and then wipe them away. “This is how you entertain yourself?”

At his lips, his grin widens, deadly canines appearing before he leans back, lounging in his own decadence. Like a king.

Sighing, you shift closer and lift your hand.

This man, the one everyone fears, impurities and all, is sometimes nothing more than a creature at play. At least, that’s how you see him. And for whatever reason, he seems to enjoy letting you.

Which is confusing.

The moment the warm cloth presses against his swollen chest, he tenses, bottom left eye cracking open to watch you.

“I’m not going to do anything...” you say, tracking the fabric moving across his muscles.

I’m also not going to kill you either…

That desire has long since faded from your mind.

But he doesn’t relax.

Still this barrier?

Blinking at the stretch of tattooed flesh before you, you plant your free hand on his knee, leaning in for leverage. If this is the price of staying, fine. You’ll start with his chest, then his arms—neck, collarbone, abdomen. The rest, he or someone else can have the pleasure of handling.

It takes a few minutes of soft scrubbing, but at last, his shoulders drop, and the tension eases from his enormous frame.

“Tell me,” he murmurs, still keeping that single eye on you, “what do you plan to do once you leave here?”

Slowly, your gaze lifts from the cloth to his face, where he watches you, his expression serious.  

“You mean once I settle things with my sister?” 

“Mhn.”

He doesn’t say anything more.  

You drag the cloth across his right pectoral, the fabric brushing over his nipple, which hardens at the contact, before gliding along his upper arm and down to the dip of his elbow.

“I suppose I’ll live out my days with Yuna,” you say, pressing a curious fingertip to one of the thick veins along his forearm. The leather dulls the sensation, but you can still feel the strong pulse through the barrier. Sukuna doesn’t react, either unaware or simply doesn’t care.

You pull your finger away.

“And I suppose I’ll be seen as a forsaken woman.”

Once married, now a stain.

The cloth moves lower, speckles of water dancing over the black band encircling his wrist before you trail to his hand. He unfurls his fingers from a loose fist, letting you trace over his knuckles one by one, which are so much larger than your own.

Noticing he’s gone quiet, you glance up, and all four of his eyes have slivered open into heavy, narrow slits.

You pause.

“If you had never come here… what do you think your life would have become?”

Such big questions. Ones you’ve never spent time imagining or thinking about.

“Hypothetically?”

He inclines his head.

You take your time. Hypothetically, it could be anything.

“I might have found somewhere quiet to live. Secluded. Maybe near the mountains or close to a river. Something simple and quiet.”

“Mhn. How boring.” His eyes slide shut again. “Continue.”

Beneath the water, something brushes your knee. You realize it’s his legs shifting, spreading further apart, leaving no space for you to move away.

“Not speaking hypothetically, I’d take Ayana with me,” you state, rubbing the cloth over his knuckles once more, then guiding its path back up his arm, over his shoulder, to his neck. 

“She’s mine, after all.” The cloth finds its way to his nape, sweeping over the short pink hairs. “You gave her to me, probably to lure me in. But that doesn’t change the fact.”

Sukuna tilts his head, offering more of his neck and giving you a better angle.

“Take her,” he mumbles. More shifting below the water, and this time, his large fingers crawl to your knee. “She was a gift.” Hand sliding further, his thumb hooks into the soft crease where your calf presses against your thigh. “And one I meant.”

You swallow, steadying yourself.

So, he’s given you a mount. What of it?

He’s given you weapons before, too. It means… nothing.

“All right… I will.” 

Whatever his reasons, whatever his intentions, that skittish horse was meant for you.

“Aside from that...” you continue, the next words pure fabrication, nothing more than a gentle tug on a thread, just to see what will unravel. “I’d like to find some sense of happiness. Maybe even bind myself to a real husband.”

The candle flame inside the lantern hisses.

Water trickles off your sleeves.

Silence follows.

Only the faint patter of droplets breaking the surface disturbs it.

Trailing your focus from the wet sheen clinging to his chest to his jaw, to the tattoos there, to the sudden, rigid set of his mouth, slowly, you find your way up to his face.

That stare unnerves you.

“Hypothetically?”

The hand at your knee tightens, making the wound on your leg burn.

You shift.

“No,” you lie, smooth as silk. “That’s true.”

“Is that so?”

He doesn’t blink.

You nod, trying to make it look more confident than it feels.

“How sweet.” He all but purrs, but the twitch at the corner of his mouth betrays everything.

“And you?” Your attention casually returns to the cloth, gliding over his upper left arm.

“What about me?”

“Will you take another wife?” You scrub his rounded shoulder, tracing the precise edges of the solid black circle inked into his skin. “A proper one this time. Someone you won’t hurt for your own pleasure.”

There’s a pause.

His brow knits together.

You wait while the hand on your knee slips away.

“It was never something that interested me in the first place.”

The answer is vague.

Mouth pressing into a thin line, you nod.

The space falls quiet again, but you feel him staring at you.

A heartbeat follows.

Then, two more.

“Look at me,” he demands.

With that tone, you’re helpless to do otherwise.

“When will you ask me to heal that wound on your leg?” Leaning in, he nudges his chin toward the bath. “My water is starting to turn pink.”

Your eyes flick down. You hadn’t noticed the ruddy tint bleeding into it, a fresh, blushing stain of your own blood.

“I wasn’t.”

You were going to stumble back to your chambers and try to heal it, though it would likely fail, just as it had night after night. Learning to reverse your energy was proving difficult. So instead, you’d find something to naturally mend the skin back together, whether by your own hand, Ren’s, Nao’s, or any of the other attendants you’ve come to know here.

Saying nothing else, you continue to wash him until one of his lower hands clamps around your waist. Sukuna yanks you into his lap, turning you so your back presses into his bare chest. Your breath catches. The heat of his nakedness burns through the wet fabric that clings to your skin while his lower hand trails up your injured leg, fingers digging into the soaked cloth before he lifts it. Pink water drips as he hoists it higher, your thigh breaking the surface. Then, without any further hesitation, his hand finds where the curse tore the fabric of your hakama. Removing the strip of cloth you tied to staunch the bleeding, he slips his fingers inside and tears through the garment. The layers give way, peeling apart under his touch, and the wound bares itself to the thick, perspiring air of the bathhouse.

You stare at it. So does he.

The gash stretches from your knee to the middle of your thigh, open and raw and bleeding.

“Try to heal it.” Sukuna’s darkening voice rumbles from behind you.  

Tilting back, you arch your neck awkwardly, pressing tighter to his chest to meet his four eyes. Even seated, he towers over you, but he leans in, closing the space until his chin nearly rests atop your head.  

“I can’t,” you mutter, attention reaching back to the inflamed wound. “I’ve been practicing, but it never works.” 

“Tch.” 

His grip hardens around your thigh, fingers pressing into muscle, leaving deep indentations.

Fresh pain flares. You hiss. Fresh blood wells. 

Clenching the cloth used to bathe him, you jerk slightly, but he doesn’t loosen his hold. If anything, it grows tighter.  

“You’ll never be free if you can’t. Now heal it!” he orders, the heat in his voice is enough to make your mouth run dry. 

You swallow, eyes landing on his fingers, tracing the edges of the exposed swollen trench. Gritting your teeth, you push your cursed energy toward it, willing it to mend.  

Please.

Your jaw clenches until your teeth grind.

Please work.

It doesn’t.

Breathing into the pain, you try to channel your energy into that single spot. Positive energy.

Nothing.

Sukuna grunts his disapproval.  

Restless, you shift in his arms and make another attempt, forcing all your mentality on torn skin, demanding it, screaming at it to knit together.

Still nothing.

You—

“Enough,” Sukuna grumbles, dragging his fingers from the wound. Without his hold, it bleeds deeply. “You’re still hesitating.”

You weren’t. You tried.

A plume of white flares around his lower right hand, crawling up his wrist while light floods the space. He reaches down, pressing into the raw flesh, and with a hitch in your breath, you feel the skin knit back together, the glow flickering, then fading.

Relief crashes over you, and you sag into solid chest.

“Thank you…” you mumble, limbs and body relaxing against him.

Sukuna hums quietly in response, and gently, he pries the cloth from your fingers with the same hand that healed you. Lifting it to your thigh, he wipes away the last traces of blood smeared there. And he doesn’t stop. Tipping back your head until the crown rests against his chest you watch him, the right side of his face, the eyes on his mask that track his touch’s slow, intimate movement.

He could so easily let go of your leg and ease it back into the water. But he doesn’t. He takes his time. And he cleans you.

The unexpected tightening in your chest swallows you whole.

Soft noises fill the space. The dripping of water, the light drag of fabric, the lap of floating garments, and this close, the pounding of both your pulses.

“Have you ever wondered what my flesh would taste like?”

Your quiet question stills his hand. It nearly stills you.

A dangerous thought like this, one about his cannibalism, spoken aloud while lying caught in the arms of a beautiful, terrible monster.

Stupid.

Sukuna’s head turns, red orbs sliding to meet your searching gaze. He hasn’t turned that intensity on you in a while, as if he were grabbing your soul and forcing it to him. It’s overwhelming, and the carefully built walls around you start to tremble.

“I have,” he admits smoothly, darkly, eyes growing heavy.

You don’t look away. Even when his admission should unsettle you, it doesn’t because you realize you’re unbothered and broken. And so you continue.

“Often?” you whisper.

The King of Curses’ mouth twitches before the cloth releases from his fingers, landing in the water with a soft splash. Tucking your leg back under the surface, his touch replaces it, fingertips first, then the firm press of his palm, then his massive hand sinking into the smoothness of your thigh. 

You exhale shakily.

“Yes.” The pads of his fingers draw slow circles into you, each pass swirling higher, greedier. “But I prefer your skin where it belongs, warm and wet in places I like best.”

A deep ache tightens low in your pelvis. You lick away the dampness on your bottom lip, breath faltering beneath the weight of his hungry gaze, the raw carnality swelling in his eyes.

“Yes?” you breathe, steam falling down your throat, just as a thick bead of sweat parts between your bodies.

He nods, fingers finding their way further inside your hakama to the crease of your thigh, while his eyes never stray, held solely on you. His pupils start to darken. Heat pulses between your legs, your clit throbbing, your body strung with sudden need. He inhales, nostrils flaring like he can scent it, your arousal, and then there’s a twitch. No, more than that. Two rigid prods press against your clothed backside. Your heart jumps at your ribs, a reminder telling you exactly what’s unfolding here. And you fight the urge to move, to shift down, to feel him fully, his bare, pulsing cocks beneath you, to take one or both and have them stretch you open and pound into you again.

“Especially right here…” he whispers, lower right hand moving out of your hakama, but inward, he slides it over the fabric covering your cunt. “... where you taste the sweetest.”

The touch starts slowly. His large fingers glide over the outline of your outer folds before tracing deeper, pressing harder at your entrance, then moving up your throbbing center just shy of your clit.

“Sukuna.” Your voice is hungry, needy, his name slipping free as your hips lift, chasing his fingers. He growls and guides your movements with both upper hands at your waist, encouraging you to quicken and grind against him, rubbing into his twitching cocks.

The water stirs and ripples. Small splashes lap in tiny, pink waves.

The sound is liquid silk.

Pleasurable. Hypnotic in the growing heat.

Sukuna watches you. For a moment, he only admires. But he leans in over your shoulder, murmuring your name so softly it barely escapes his lips. It’s such a rare thing to hear, but the sound alone makes goosebumps race along your spine.

“Remember when you arrived and couldn’t stand being touched?” he mouths against your cheek, nudging his nose there as his upper hands slip down from your waist into the water and behind your knees, spreading you wide for him, your trembling legs folding up and out of the bath. Exposed.

Seeing yourself on display like this has you panting.

“Now look at you,” he husks, his tone growing aroused. “Loving this. Stretched out like a feast meant only for me, my eyes and my hands…”

It’s true.

Even now, as you look down at the wet expanse of your body, suspended in his hold, his touch occupying every part of you, you do.

And fuck, if you weren’t fain to crave more.

“For my mouths…” he continues, voice rasping as his lips drag down your neck. 

Groaning quietly, you tilt your head, offering him more of your throat. Surrendering yourself like that animal he claimed you to be.

“My teeth… and my tongues…”

Breaths turning animalistic, Sukuna’s chest heaves against your back. He presses the flat of his tongue and sharp canines to your skin, then scrapes them down to your shoulder. 

“You’re aching for me, aren’t you?” The words melt into the curve of your throat before he bites down, making you whimper. “Missing my cocks. How I felt when I pumped them deep inside you. Hurt you and pleasured you so good.”

You shiver as his saliva coats along your damp skin, nipples hardening under your wet clothing.

Yes. You were. You are.

For that, for more…

The fingers between your thighs, playing and tormenting you over the soaked fabric, find your engorged clit, and finally he presses down in slow, tight circles, the coarse barrier making you more sensitive.

“F-fuck,” you whine, head swimming as pleasure darts along your spine, and you reach down, gripping and squeezing his muscular thighs. “More. Please.”

A deep, satisfied growl rumbles in his chest, and his only response is to apply more pressure against your slick sex, deepening the motion.

“There’s my desperate girl," he snarls, flicking his tongue out and over your ear before biting down, drawing a sharp inhale past your lips. "Always so greedy when I take care of her.”

Nudging his nose into the space behind your ear, Sukuna swats at the wet fabric, slapping your clit until a cry escapes you. Then he does it again. And again. Your head snaps back, eyes locking onto him. Fuck. The pain and the pleasure, he knows exactly what he’s doing. He is heaven and hell twisted into one. Beautiful. Terrible. And watching you with that smirk—the crease splitting his mask, twitching, soaking in every reaction, utterly enthralled. You feel like you could melt into him and finally let go.

“Such a soft thing, aren’t you?” He tilts his head, studying you more closely, the hand on your pussy slowing as his lower left reaches out, thumb gliding along your jaw.  

“Beautiful thorn,” he hisses with his teeth, resentment and desire winding together in the words. But his fingers trace the curve of your cheekbone too soft, skimming over your lips, top, then bottom, before gently cupping your face.  

“My flower.” Softer this time.

And your heart beats, even as it fractures.  

These words. These actions.

Manipulation? Or… something else?

He wants you. Discards you. Protects you. Says he doesn't care for you.

And then this.

“Sukuna,” you breathe his name with emotion, eyes falling heavy in the heat.

“Shh,” he coos as his fingers stroke over your clit again, the heel of his palm sliding down to press in for more friction. Squirming, a moan escapes you, and he pulls you closer, guarding you all to himself. Beneath the water, the curve of your ass drags against his cocks, making him hiss softly. You bite your lip, meeting his eyes as you sway your hips back, giving him the friction he craves. He teases your nub harder—  

Until, suddenly, he stops. And the pink bathwater stills. And you freeze, staring up at him, heart still pounding because the monster is thinking.

And that’s dangerous.

“But... speaking hypothetically...” His jaw clenches, and his muscles flex as his eyes darken.  

Over the curve of your shoulder, he leans closer.

The air inside the bathhouse evaporates.

“If any man, even a so-called ‘real husband,’ dares lay a finger on you, I will slaughter him, flay the skin from his corpse and before your very eyes, I will consume it piece by piece.” His eyes go bright with fury. “Because you belong to me.” The hand at your jaw tightens, fingers digging in until you feel the prick of his dull nails. “You belong to me and no one else!” he repeats louder, a possessive snarl into your face, making you flinch.

“You—” he hisses, “are fucking mi—”

You shove against his hold, against his indulgence, against the honey-sweet, sickly words he speaks to keep you enamoured with him.

And reluctantly, he lets you go, releasing you from every last arm and hand.

Why did he always get to break you down, fall prey to him, again and again, tearing apart the safety you built for yourself?  

You don’t want to think or feel this again. Those feelings are bruised and begging to crawl back into the dark where they belong. But sometimes, resisting temptation isn’t your strength, especially not with him.  

So you catch yourself. Before you can want this, you want something else. Perhaps words or an admission.

You’ll know when.

“It’s been a long night, my Lord,” you murmur awkwardly, adjusting your garments, calming your heartbeat while the water sloshes with each shift you put distance between you and him.

Always distance.

Sukuna huffs to himself, and you hear him sink back into the bathwater.

“You may go,” he mutters dismissively.

With your back to him, you step onto the wooden slats and climb out of the water.

As you move across the dimly lit room and near the door, you pause where he discarded his kimono.

An idea takes root.

A bratty one.

Standing there, you begin to strip away your soaked garments—suikan, hakama, undergarments, sandals, tabi socks—each piece dropping slowly and heavily to the floor. Your leather gloves come last, landing atop the pile. Steam and the warm air feel good against your bare skin, but the true heat comes from the King of Curses’ stare boring into your naked figure.

“Goodnight,” you say, tossing him an innocent glance over your shoulder before leaning down and scooping up his dry kimono, pulling it flush around your body.

Sukuna sits there in silence, upper arms draped over the bath’s rim, lower ones submerged. His eyes are so dark, lust-ridden, pupils blown, still entirely hungry for you.

Heat burns into your cheeks at how ravenous he is.

“Savour the rest of your bath for me.”

Hooking your fingers into a small piece of the fabric shielding you, you inhale, catching the scent of copper and smoke lifting from it.

His scent.

You turn, slide open the door, and meet the cold air.

Bare feet pressing into the frostbitten grass, you step out into the night, leaving behind the warmth of the bath, wrapped in his kimono, while the King of Curses is left with nothing.

[retiredteabag]

Sukuna assimilating to you

Synopsis: After discovering that Sukuna has been wide awake every time you nap together, you become embarrassed around him.

〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰〰・♡・〰

It is a scientific fact that when we are around people we love and trust, while in a healthy relationship, the release of oxytocin makes us sleepy.

Sukuna does not need sleep. He is the king of curses, able to continuously use his technique without ever becoming exhausted. When you first suggested that his chambers were "perfect for napping", he had simply raised a brow and considered what that could possibly mean.

You are like a weak creature to him. A kitten or perhaps a rabbit. And since you are never safer than when you are in his presence, you frequently find yourself growing sleepy when you are around him.

Throughout your strange relationship with the king, something that you loved most, is that there never needs to be words exchanged between the two of you. You were both contented to sit in silence. Frequently dozing off together, or so you thought.

You caught on eventually, that he was always awake before you. That his breathing pattern never really changed. That his face never relaxed more than it would if he had simply been sitting with his eyes closed.

One morning, after having stayed the night sleeping, you mumbled to him, "How is it you're always awake before I?"

He rose a brow at you, his upper set of eyes were looking into yours, the lower staring at how you lay across his bed sheets.

"I do not know your meaning." He grumbled out.

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You never sleep in longer than I do, one day I would like to wake up before you."

"I never sleep at all." He stated before you had even really finished your sentace.

"What?" Your breathy outburst echoed slightly in his bed chamber, "What do you mean you don't sleep?"

"I do not require such things." He turned his torso now toward you, all four eyes studying your face, you had quickly sprung up, seemingly miffed.

"So... so all this time, you've just been... laying there while I've been sleeping?"

"I suppose I have, I do not see how this matters in the slightest." "It matters because I've been... It's just been a big waste of time for you. Sukuna you should have said something." You're upset, he can tell. Your face is scrunched up, your blood is pounding in your veins. Sukuna, however, does not know what to say in this situation.

In all honesty, he figured you knew and were just including him. Did you really think he was that weak? Or could you simply not conceive of a restless existence? Whatever the answer, he had no response for you, expecting a shrug of the shoulders- you he would discover, would not so easily let go of things.

And how humiliated you were. How many HOURS had you spent sleeping with him, within his grasp, in his space for him to have been conscious the whole time? You tried thinking back, attempting to recall a time you had requested a nap when he was uninterested.

He had never uttered a word about it. Never turned you down. Sukuna was not a kind king, he rarely ever did things that were not out of necessity, and he certainly did not do things he didn't like. That, at least, was consolation. You knew he had not been suffering for your sake, but even so, it was embarrassing.

Sukuna, still, could not understand your sheepishness about the subject. He did not care to explain that time works differently for him, that his mind is not so simple as yours and does not require entertainment all the time, that he could sit still for years and not be bothered, and frequently did before you came along.

He assumed you would get over it quickly. In your time as well as his. But days passed and he rarely saw you. You took your dinner with other people of the palace and spoke with him in the most cordial manner. One night, he informed Uraume that they needed to prepare a dish suited for you, something that would entice you, and serve it to him.

He figured this would bring you crawling back to him, tail between your legs. Yet, you did not budge.

Odd.

You were wallowing. You knew it. He did not care to spend time, what? Watching you sleep? Of course, he wouldn't, but it hurt your pride, to know you had been taking up such huge chunks of time lazing about in his presence. Well, not anymore. You slept in your chamber and your chamber alone. Gone were the days of blankets on the engawa, gone were the days of resting beneath the kotatsu while laying your head in his lap, gone were the days of sharing his bed.

If ever he wished for someone to share his bed, he had a whole cast of concubines, though you knew they were never of any use to him, they were mostly just house staff with a fancy title.

The evening he finally decided enough was enough, you were in the washhouse doing laundry.

Your back was arched over a bin full of soapy water. Your hands working tirelessly on some cloth.

"Have you not circumvented me enough?" He spoke in a low and slow tone.

"Lord Sukuna." You bowed, clothing in your hands, suds up your forearms, you bent your neck as to not look at him.

"You will reply now." He raised a brow, watching your hands quietly splash in the washbin.

"Was there something you would like me to assist to?" You questioned. Your head was full of possible reasons for what the king meant by seeking you out personally.

"Do you believe that by not sleeping in my presence I would come to believe you do not require rest?" He spoke in an unserious tone, eyes unblinking.

"No, my lord." Now what was he playing at? Of course that wasn't your intention.

"Then you hide yourself from me because you no longer have time for your king, I suppose." He mused.

Oh, for heaven's sake, "No, my lord."

"I see," He bent down to look you dead in the eyes, "So, you must no longer crave my occupancy of your space. You must not desire my hand running through your hair? I suppose you have tired of staying in my chambers?" His tone remained deep but his eyes were dead serious now.

"I-" You began, but suddenly you felt the urge to cough, swallowing you tried again, "I wished not to preoccupy so much of your time."

"And you made this decision without enlightening your king."

You said nothing.

"You will eat with me tonight, you shall stay in my chambers henceforth." He rose in record speed, turning without a second glance your way, maids were staring wide-eyed at the king of curses as he halted at the entrance of the washhouse. You could not see, but there was finality in his voice.

"I wish not to waste-" You were cut off by Sukunas voice, his broad back still facing you.

"Your wishes do not interest me now, so it seems. It is my wish for you to spend your time with me." His steps resounded through the compound, your face slack.

The maids smirked, and with shocked faces, side-eyed one another. A couple entered the washhouse giving you big open-mouthed smiles, and patted your shoulder as they passed.

That night Uraume made something you would go on to beg them to make for years to come. And when Sukuna pulled you prone from your seated position on his bed, he took a firm fingertip and stroked the space between your eyes, one of his enormous hands encircling your skull and massaging your temples with his thumb and ring fingers. He traced the bridge of your nose to your forehead, the way you would stroke a cat.

Perhaps he thought this would induce drowsiness but all it did was make you feel all floaty inside at his silliness.

And for the first time since that night, you slept alongside him. Within his embrace, and when you awoke, Sukuna's eyes were closed.

[xxnghtclls]

[phantasmique]

I will never apologize for the person I will become when his true form gets animated

Top images belong to aiiana_00 on Instagram, bottom images 0aicha.dl on Instagram

[tarrynightss]

what happens when sukuna’s precious little jewel actually does get pregnant ???

I’m so glad you asked Anon hehe

Concubine!reader x Sukuna thoughts part 1 here

Tags; Pregnancy, Concubine!fem!Reader, smut below cut, breeding kink, size difference, bit of lactation kink

Sukuna is not surprised when it happens after all the hard work you both put into realizing his dream. He notices a subtle change in your smell, in the energy that pulsates around you when he caresses his hand over your body. A wide grin splits on his face as he lays his hand over your lower stomach, his chest sturdy against your back. He can’t help but nuzzle his face against the side of your head, inhaling more of your intoxicating smell. “It took.”. Those simple words have your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest, looking back at him to ensure you understood correctly. “You’re with child.”

He’s overjoyed with the prospect of having a baby, an heir of his own. He’s more affectionate than he ever was, taking time to settle you close against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the growing bump on your stomach. He even caresses your hair and kisses you in an attempt to comfort you when you feel pain, all of it shockingly gentle for Sukuna. In his mind there’s a simple explanation. You did as he wanted, and you continue to do your duty well, ensuring his child is safe and growing strong inside you even when it hurts you, so you should be rewarded for it.

Sukuna has always been wary of others, but with the pregnancy he turns outright paranoid. With the amount of enemies he has he worries that one might now lash out and target you and your baby. He focuses more on maintaining barriers around the house, has someone sample your food in front of him before it’s allowed to be served to you, and you never sleep alone anymore, him always curled protectively against your side. He also decides to dismiss a large portion of his harem, not trusting them to have your best interest in mind. He knows how jealous humans can get, had seen women scratch each others eyes out just to get ahead of the other, and so the only other concubines allowed to stay are the ones you claim are your friends. He still keeps a careful eye on them, only truly allowing it because he knows that when the time comes, you will need women to aid you through it, and he doesn’t trust random midwives more than he trusts them.

Sukuna will spoil you more than ever, making sure you are comfortable in whatever way he can offer. The pregnancy is clearly taking a toll on you, your stomach having grown large and heavy, and he almost worries the size difference between you that excited him so might become the death of you. He carries you basically everywhere the last two months, wrapping you up in his strong arms and doing anything you need of him. It’s quite ironic; you used to be the one helping him get dressed, fawning over your master, and now he does the opposite for you. Though you know it’s out of necessity, it still makes your heart flutter.

That Sukuna is stressed out when you finally give birth is putting it lightly. He waits outside as customary, trying to appear stoic but panicking on the inside at your pained screams. As soon as he hears a baby cry, he barges in, watching as another concubine places the child against your bare chest. He quickly finds himself on his knees beside you, brushing one large hand over your sweaty forehead to comfort you as the other joins you in holding your baby. It’s a daughter, but she’s healthy and strong, screaming her lungs out for a minute more before calming down. You laugh, and he breathes in deeply, knowing you both made it. Relieve makes him bend forward and press a kiss to your forehead, leaning back just in time to see the child’s eyes open. Four in total, just like her father, but with the scarlet stare replaced by the lovely color of your eyes.

It surprises everyone, including you, how much of an involved father he is, holding his baby as often as he can, a large finger prodding at her pouty lips till she smiles and coos. When you apologize to him for not giving him a son, he stares at you blankly, gesturing for you to rise from where you kneel before him, putting one hand on your cheek as two others still cradle your baby. “I don’t need your apology. The child is healthy, and you will give me a son next time.” The surprise is evident on your face as your eyes snap to his. Not only is he being benevolent, but he also just said he wants another child with you. You were afraid he would discard you like a broken toy after this, no longer interesting enough to him, but it seems you still manage to hold your position as his favorite, bringing a smile to your face.

It has to be said that Sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you from the moment that tiny bump appears on your stomach. There’s something about it, about you, that makes every fiber of his being crave touching you. Maybe it’s that famous pregnancy glow, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows he’s the one who fucked a baby into you. You’re his, more clearly now than ever, and it excites him beyond his own comprehension.

Luckily for Sukuna, the hormones coursing through your body have you seeking him out desperately throughout most of your pregnancy. The first few months he fucks you like he wants to ruin you, rutting into you like an addict, but as soon as you really start showing he becomes more gentle. He wouldn’t risk seriously hurting you or his child, often seating you in his lap as he thrusts into you, his mouth lapping at your sweet neck. You still mewl so sweetly for him, so eagerly, and he already knows he might want to do this all over again after you’ve given him his first child.

Sukuna takes such good care of his little jewel, even massaging your poor sore breasts, teasing your aching nipples with his tongue. The changes to your body have him drooling all over you, his hands constantly on your growing breasts or belly. It becomes a guilty pleasure of his to touch you there, enjoying just having you on his lap as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, loving the way you squirm against him.

You find some of the changes quite embarrassing, especially when your breasts start leaking milk as you enter your third trimester. He only grins wolfishly when he notices the wet patches on the fabric covering your breasts, tutting as he pulls you to his chambers. “You need to relieve the pressure, little one.” And of course your benevolent master knows just how to do it, massaging your breasts till more drops come out, making sure he’s right there to help you through it all. This definitely gets far worse after you’ve given birth and your milk fully comes in, aching painfully to be released, Sukuna hot on your heels after ensuring your baby is fed to ‘help’ you.

[privodoro]

no anatomy just vibes welcome back king

[madamechrissy]

Cursed Promises

Pairings: Sukuna x Fem reader

CW: This chap, fingering, sucking both Sukuna's monster c*cks, Sukuna calls you little bunny lmao, soft Sukuna in places, he's falling fast tbh, reader is a lil innocent thing, stomach tongue says HELLO, all his tongues say hi, lil bit of degradation, true form Sukuna

Summary: You have been promised to Ryomen Sukuna, King of curses, for as long as you've been alive, ostracized from your village, 'special'. Now you are to marry him, sight unseen. People everywhere fear him, but will you find yourself intrigued by him. Just who is the King of Curses to his new wife? Arranged marriage au

A/N: This is ALL fluff and SMUT lol, it's just our king falling for y/n <3 Gonna be like four parts to this, so a short fic! Monsterfking and fluff lol- WC this chap-5.8k

Comments/ reblogs appreciated ❤️

<<<part one part three>>>

Part Two

“Good day, my Queen.” You’re greeted by Uraume, Sukuna’s right hand, they are so ethereally lovely, you think, their white hair and pale silky skin, along with their honey brown eyes were something to behold. They’re donned in white robes, hands hiding in their long sleeves, bowing just so.

“Good morning, Uraume.” You say softly, you are dressed now in another set of purple and gold robes, it seems to be Sukuna’s favorite coloring, if he chooses your wardrobe, nearly all of it was reds, purples and golds. “Um… where is the King?”

“You wish to know where he is?” They ask curiously, tilting their head. You nod then, feeling your cheeks heat up, remembering last night with him, he’d been on your mind all morning now.

“I’m afraid I’m quite lost in this castle, and I also fear to disturb him if I do find him.” Uraume nods now.

“The king sent for you, actually, it is why I came here. Come along now, my Queen.”

You eagerly follow, and you think the serious Uraume gives a little turn of their lips, but your mind must be playing tricks. You met them before King Sukuna, they were part of the group that led you on the long trek from home, a calming presence yet so powerful with their energy.

What exactly was your power, your energy? Your clan had made sure you never explored such things, no one has taught you anything about it, but it must be special if you’re destined to bear Sukuna’s heir. You still have much to learn, you fear, you are following their swishing white robes as you descend through the massive halls. You pause when you hear a slam against the door.

“What is that?” You ask, frightened, and Uraume just sighs.

“Foolish fucking mortal. Aaha!” You hear booming laughter now, when you enter Sukuna’s throne room, he’s grinning like crazy as a man is picking himself up, holding his stomach.

“My king…”

“Any last words? Should I give you any?” He’s chuckling with an insanely huge grin now, red eyes landing on you, raising a dark, arrogant brow. “Ah, it’s my beautiful bride. Come on now, have a seat.”

You’re looking at the room filled with people, guards and lords and commoners alike, all bowing down to you now. You start to walk up to his throne, the dark black throne filled with what appears to be cow skulls. You gulp nervously at it, taking over so much, Sukuna takes over so much, and he’s just perched on it with a smirk, patting his thigh again.

“Come on, little bunny.” You glare now, and he chuckles in delight, as you stomp on over, gasping as he pulls you to his lap, one of his four hands on your thigh, the other brushing your hair back to reveal your bare shoulders. “Uraume, you did superb with these gowns.”

“I’m pleased you enjoy, my King.” Uraume now stands with the council, as Sukuna’s long dark nails press into the delicate silk of your gown, his hands are so huge he takes you over entirely, you’re so overwhelmed, but also…

You feel him pressing between your thighs, against your slick heat, and he leans close, lips against your ear. “Soaking wet in front of everyone? Slutty bunny.”

“Oh you-” You go to stand now, sure everyone can see your embarrassment, your flushed cheeks.

“Ah ah, I’m your husband, you’ll sit here on my throne with me, wife.” He sets you back down now, hands firmly holding you in place, against the strong, muscular thigh that is making you throb.

You remember last night vividly even moreso now, being pressed like this, he rests his stubborn chin on one of his tattooed hands now, bored expression on his face. “And you, what is it you wish to plead for?”

A nervous man comes up to the throne, trembling before the two of you, “M-my King, my wife, she’s been taken by the demons of the East, please, I beg for your help!”

“We’re too busy, mortal, go bother someone else with your woes, I’m busy with more important things.” He says, his hand now reaching up to grab your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulse point, and you realize he’s playing with your body’s reaction to his touch.

“My king… we should help.” You murmur, he leans forward, two of his eyes glinting angrily at you now.

“The bunny speaks?”

You scoff, rolling your eyes, earning a raised brow. “Yes, the bunny speaks. Why am I here if not-”

“Insolent brat.” Sukuna sighs, cutting you off. “Not here.”

You nod then, realizing your folly, his hand is squeezing your hips so tightly, but it only makes you more intrigued, the duality of him. “I’ll consider it.”

“Oh thank you, thank-ah!” Sukuna has thrown him into a wall now, waving a hand and rolling all four of those eyes.

“Enough, out.” The man stumbles backwards, and Sukuna and you listen to the next few people, he seems to enjoy hurting them, finding great amusement, you wonder at his sadistic nature and big grin at it.

Suddenly a young girl comes and he does not treat her as such, he listens a bit more attentively now. He orders for help for her village, surprising you somewhat, but Sukuna did indeed protect those that had agreements with him, like your village for example. But the girl you notice he doesn’t fling for amusement, making you contemplate him a bit.

“What are you looking at, brat?” He says now, as you study him carefully, tilting your head.

“You’re rather sweet sometimes.” You tease, earning his anger.

“Sweet!?” He demands, and you suppress a giggle. “And you’re laughing at me? And here I am, being benevolent.”

“I apologize, my King, I don’t know what’s come over me.” He glares now, setting his jaw, and then suddenly an insane amount of energy pools right in one of his hands, he’s holding it up, a bright ball of dark purple and red, so intense the entire room stands still now. “My king…”

“Should I show you who I really am, brat? Since you find me amusing.” You shake your head then, feeling your body start to tremble, but not in fear of him, for fear of everyone in the room. “No? How about him first.”

“Stop!” You snatch his wrist then, to the gasps of everyone in the room, and the shocked look of the King himself, as you nullify his energy to nothing, little puffs of color is all that’s left. “I… I…” You’re gasping, opening your mouth and closing it over and over again, as the room is so silent you could hear the smallest pin drop.

Sukuna scowls at you now, and you know you’re in for it, whatever that was… what was that!?

“Uraume, see them all out. Now.” He orders, and they quickly obey, soon you’re left in a giant empty throne room with a furious king, their footsteps echoing through the halls, the giant doors slamming shut, and your heart races faster than ever before, alone with him.

You can feel his anger, his power, but there’s something else now, something new. His eyes are on you, the room spinning with his energy as he releases it, you can see it like a tornado of purple and red circling around him, but it’s not coming towards you, earning his anger as he stands, looming so big over you. You stand up, trembling but not backing down.

“What on Earth… what the fuck… you’re…”

You smile then. “Does this mean I’m more powerful-ah!”

“It means you’re an annoying little brat.” He says, grabbing you by your hair with one hand, another grabbing your ass, the energy dissipated.

“Why are you like this?” You ask, and he laughs, a low, deep, terrifying sound really, but it doesn’t scare you.

“Like what, bunny?” 

“So powerful, yet so cruel. You could help so many but you choose to just watch and enjoy their suffering instead!”

“It’s the way of the world, my world.”

You step forward, his hand still firm in your hair, but the pain is noticeable, the pull of him drawing you closer. “So you enjoy this cruelty.”

“You mean to understand me? You just met me, bride.”

You slide your hands up his bare chest then, so much of the broad, muscular chest on display, the black lines running down it. “Will you let me actually get to know you?” You ask softly, he sighs then, something softening for a moment, before he’s back to a tense stance.

“I’ve never met anyone who could do that to me before. You’re a puzzle I want to solve, and I will solve you, one way or another.” He stands now, his robes sliding down his shoulders, his muscular chest bare, then you see him, naked, his two cocks already standing at attention, you gulp at them. He’s chuckling now.

“You think this scares me?” You ask, trying to keep your voice from shaking, his cocks are so thick, so long, veins wrapping them. You’ve never seen anything like it before, but you’re not scared, you’re more intrigued than anything. “I can handle you, King of Curses.”

“Oh really, brave little bunny?” He steps forward, the energy surrounding you like a cloak, yet you’re untouched, in fact… you enjoy it.

“You cannot hurt me. And you do not want to, do you?” You ask softly, his brows lower over narrowed eyes, as he steps closer, his hard cocks touching you through your robes now.

“Tch, you really think you’re a match for my power? You’ve barely seen any of it, any of me.”

“So show me then.” Your hand drifts down his rippled body, blushing as you remember the pleasure he brought.

“You dare challenge me, brat?” He whispers, and you just nod, and then Sukuna slams his lips against yours, kissing you, hard and brutal, and you kiss back just as fiercely. For your second real kiss with him, you catch on quickly, because you are craving him, more and more every moment.

His hands are everywhere, ripping your gown off, revealing your naked body to the room, his cocks pressing against your stomach when he pulls you back against him, hot and heavy. You moan into his mouth, feeling yourself getting wetter as his other hands grip your bare ass, squeezing and pressing you against him now, you’re crying out, head falling back.

“Here?” You whisper, looking around, and he grins.

“You’ll service me here, like a good girl.” And then he’s dropping you down onto his throne, his hands on your shoulders, pushing you down to sit, and his cocks are directly in front of your face. “All that talk, time to shut your bratty mouth, hmm?”

You look at him defiantly, hand grabbing the top cock, stroking up and down tentatively, he moans, and you relish in it, leaning forward, licking the sticky white substance at the tip of each cock, pooling in the slits. He wraps his hands in your hair, pulling hard, making you even wetter, his other two hands bracing on either side of the cold, hard throne, tummy clenching in desire.

“Which one will you service first?” He says with a wicked smirk, and you lean down and take one of his massive cocks into your mouth, sucking and licking like you’ve never done before, your hand reaching down to stroke the other one, feeling the heat, feeling him so hard.

Sukuna groans, his hand in your hair, guiding you as you suck and kiss and lick, his energy swirling around you like a storm, but instead of being afraid, it’s like it’s feeding you, filling you up, urging you on, as you now start to suck his other cock, looking up at him the entire time. He’s surprisingly gentle when it comes to his thrusts, not pushing too far, letting you sink your mouth on him.

You’re so wet and aching you whine now, vibrating around his cock, and he sucks in a breath, brushing your hair back. “Does my needy bunny need her cunt played with?”

“Please, my King.”

He scoffs, but his hips stutter, his hand grabbing your hair as you lap your tongue on him. “My king? I have a name.”

“S-Sukuna?”

“I have a name.” He says again, and you pull back from sucking, one of his hands grips your throat, squeezing now. “I could break you, bunny, like you’re nothing but a little doll. Use you for my pleasure.”

You’re shaking with need, somehow every damn thing he says and does just makes you want him more, this insane need that’s clawing through you, made worse when you taste more of his salty liquid dripping from his tips. “You could break me, do you want to, my King?”

“Sukuna. You are my wife, you may.” His voice is so soft, even as a tattooed hand is choking your throat.

“Are you sure?” You ask quietly.

“You question your husband, your King?” He demands, and you enjoy his name on your lips far too much.

“Sukuna.” He moans now, taking your hand and putting it between your thighs, you squeak, pulling it off, earning his laughter. “I cannot do that!”

“You can, and you will.”

You gasp at his audacity. “You have four hands!”

“Mmm, I do, but I want to see you do it. Come on, don't be shy, bunny, feel how wet you are sucking my cocks.” You touch yourself as one of his hands is urging your finger on, pressing it against your neglected clit, in little circles that feel far too good, his nails delicately pressing into your scalp as he shoves a cock back inside your mouth, you’re drooling all over his length, onto his other cock now.

He’s feeling your slick as he guides you, only serving to make his thrusts more insistent, there’s a hand guiding your clit, a hand on your breast, the two pulling your hair, taking you over entirely now your fingers are weak, slipping. He takes your limp fingers now, bending down to suck your juices off them. You’re gasping as he goes deeper, as you take more.

“Pathetic, can't you even touch yourself?” He taunts, you glare again, yanking your right hand back, sinking a finger into your slick heat, moaning at the stretch of it, and he falters then, staring at you, lust dilating his eyes, droopy as his mouth is wide open. “So needy you’ll finger yourself?”

“You talk overmuch.” He glares, shoving his cock further down your throat now, grunting as he fucks your throat, making your throb around your own fingertip, urging him on.

“Insolent girl.” He drags your mouth down to his other cock, before shoving both tips in your mouth, tears pour down your eyes, jaw locked open. “What can’t handle them both? All talk?”

You glare up at him under your lashes again, sucking harder, then you watch him, his head falling back, as your hand leaves your entrance, instead working both his cocks. He’s sucking in a breath, rippling muscles tensing, and that is when you see it, opening now…

A mouth on his stomach!?

You shriek, when it laps against your cheek. “What on…”

“Did you think those were all my tongues? Be good and I’ll let you ride it tonight.” He says, you bite your lip now, stroking his cocks with both of your hands. “And you want it so bad, don’t you slutty bunny?”

“I am not a bunny.” But you do find yourself insanely curious, he retracts it and allows you to finish sucking him, and he’s groaning then, huffing, jutting his hips as the tongues on his hands are lapping at your breasts.

“Fuck, sucking them better than any concubine, look at you.” He whispers, his other hands gripping your head. “Could crush you like this.” You’re crying out now, grinding on the leather plush of the seat below you. “Making a mess of my fucking throne, hmm… F=fuck…”

Sukuna shoves his thick cocks as deep as they can go in your open mouth, you’re gagging and crying, slobber and spit leaking everywhere out of your mouth now, body trembling with need as he’s thickening against your tongue, your cheeks hollow as you suck. Then he’s pulsing, and so much cum starts to pour inside, shocking you, the hot liquid coating your mouth, your tongue.

“Swallow it all, brat.” He orders softly, you gulp it all down, lapping at the tips of his cocks, sucking every bit, feeling his thighs tense under you, his body trembling from aftershocks, leaving you so needy you can’t take it. “Open.”

You do as your king and husband commands, his pastel pink hair is falling just so over his face as a hand wracks through it, spiking it up, and he sees you’ve swallowed it all. He moans now, caressing your cheek, leaning forward. “Did I please you, my king?” He gently smacks your cheek, but his hand is so huge and he’s so strong it stings.

“What was my name again, bunny?”

“Sukuna.” Your voice is hoarse, and Ryomen Sukuna exhales, thumb pressing on your lower lip.

“Open again.” You do as he says, only for him to spit saliva, dripping it into your mouth, shocking you, but you swallow obediently. “That’s a good bunny. One more thing…”

He flips you over now, making you sink to your knees. “What…”

“Clean that mess up.”

“No!” You glare up at him, he kneels down with you, two hands on your breasts, tongues lapping all over you, his free two hands on your waist, pressing you towards the slick on his throne. “You’re disgusting.”

“You love it, slutty little virgin. Go ahead, lick it, if you want me to get you to cum at all. Or I’ll leave you, just like this.” You shake your head, and he grabs your hair, wrapping it around a fist, as your nipples perk up, sensitive and aching, your body covered in goosebumps. “Don’t you want to cum later? All over me?”

“N-no… ah!” Sukuna sinks two thick, long fingers in your cunt then, filling you for the first time, you scream out, walls fluttering around him, dripping down his hands, earning his satisfied groan. “Your nails!? I… ah!”

“You think I’d cut your perfect little cunt?” He laughs now, yanking his fingers out, the nails temporarily gone, only to shoot back out, as his teeth are biting your nipples, you’re a sloppy, drippy mess in front of him. “Lick it, and I’ll come please you in your chambers tonight.”

“You’re even more cruel than they know.” You say, he just laughs now, shoving your head forward, you barely lap it up with a tip of your tongue, to his amused laughter, and you look back and glare.

“You really did it!” He’s holding his stomach in laughter, and now you stand, shoving at him as he’s at level with your tummy, he keeps laughing now as you feel tears prick your eyes.

“Don’t bother coming to my chambers.” You say through tears, overstimulated, humiliated, and suddenly as you’re grabbing your robe he grabs you, yanking you against him. “Leave me alone, go… get a concubine to amuse you.”

Sukuna’s face drops then, as you slip on your robes hastily, he grabs your waist, you try to wriggle free to no avail. “I did not… you…”

“Leave me be.” You’re sobbing now, you don’t know what’s overtaken you, but instead of mocking you further he pulls you close, letting you cry against his chest, holding you with all arms. “Don’t touch m-me.”

“Sad little bunny. Sensitive little brat.” He sighs, stroking your hair now, it feels far too good.

“Are you comforting me?”

He huffs. “No!”

“No?” You look up through watery eyes, Sukuna’s jaw sets now.

“No. Just… it gives me a very irritating feeling when you cry, I do not enjoy that feeling, so I order you to stop.” You shake your head in confusion, hiccuping through your tears. “I said stop, brat.”

“I c-can’t… I want you… and you…”

“Shut your mouth.” He slams his lips on yours, lifting you up like you’re nothing, kissing you over and over. “It was a joke. Do not cry again.”

“I can’t make promises.” He swipes your cheeks with his thumbs, kissing your cheeks now, tasting your salty tears. “You were mean to me.”

He sighs now, brushing the rough pads of his thumbs on your cheeks. “I’ll have to baby you, hmm? Stupid baby.”

“Ugh!” You shove at him again, turning, but he brings your back against him, bending low to whisper in your ear.

“I’ll be in your chambers tonight. Understood?” Your heart starts faltering now, you manage a little nod, and he sighs, holding you so tightly you can’t breathe for a moment, but you relish being in his arms, resting your head against him. “You’re using whatever powers you have over me.”

“I do not even know what my powers are!”

“Hmph. Go.” He kisses your neck and then shoos you away, but you’re pouting. “Do not use those eyes on me.”

“What eyes?” You ask, curiously.

“Do not act so… just… I’ll please you tonight, I have business to attend to. Out.” You bite your lip nervously, pulse thrumming in your ears now, you glare one more time at him, making him run a hand across his face, now back in his robes. “Do I need to shove both my cocks in both your holes right now?”

Your mind whirls at that, as you blink rapidly. “Both my-”

“Out.” You stomp away now, he almost laughs at how adorable you are, but he’s too fucking confused. And luckily you are missing the look of confusion and longing on Sukuna’s face, as he wonders just what are you and why can he not stand your tears when he massacres people!? What sort of damn magic do you possess?

How can the King of curses be so entranced by some little brat!?

He hates the fact that he’d do anything to put a smile on your face after upsetting you.

*****

There is a knock on your door as your maid prepares you for dinner with the King, you’re still so confused by him, so angry at what he thought was amusing, and wonder why you are so desperate for him. Just yesterday you had no clue what pleasure was, now he’s left your body on edge, you’re so eager for him again, he hadn’t barely even touched you.

You shiver just thinking of those fingers sinking into you, how they glistened when he yanked them out, dripping down his long nails. He’d hidden those nails not to hurt you, he cared when you cried… there was more to him then he let on, surely, more to this cursed sorcerer.

You want to know more.

Uraume comes now, holding a delicate white box, opening it and revealing a breathtaking gold and diamond necklace. “What is this!?”

“The King asks that you wear this tonight.” Uraume says, your hands tremble just so, it’s already so opulent living here, but the way it glitters under the soft lights pouring through your window.

“It’s too beautiful.” You whisper.

“King Sukuna has ordered it. Shall I put it on you?” They ask, you nod eagerly, looking in the mirror as Uraume comes behind you, placing the necklace on your throat as you lift your hair out of the way.

“Thank you, it’s so lovely, I adore it.” You touch it gently, one of the many baubles along your collarbone now.

“Do not thank me, it’s the King.”

“Uraume… tell me. Do you… is he… the King is…”

Uraume tilts their head. “My Queen?”

“Do you find the King to be… kind?”

“Kind… hmm. I suppose he can be at times. He is indeed the most powerful. Why do you ask?” Uraume helps finish your hair, taking over for the maid.

“I find him very interesting.” Uraume lets out a little smile that you don’t see.

“I see. Let us go, he does not like to wait.” You follow them now, and are led to the dining hall, where there’s a plethora of food, and instead of your seat on the opposite end as is done, he has it pulled next to him. One of the servants pulls out a seat now, but Sukuna yanks you on his lap.

You gasp, clinging to his neck for stability, muscled, thick and veiny, making you heat up as you think of all of him. He fingers the necklace curiously, tilting his head as one hand holds you down on him, another lifting a fork and stabbing a bite of food, guiding it to your mouth.

“Open.” You do as he says, Sukuna puts a morsel on your mouth. “Chew it up, you’ll need your strength.”

“Strength for?”

He grins now, shifting you on his lap, to where his cocks are pressing against your ass, you feel so tiny on him, his huge body overtaking you, arms all barring you against the dining room table. “Strength for me making you break under me.”

“I… um…” You look up at him, he’s shoving another bite into your mouth, you gasp when he slides a hand up your inner thigh.

“My feisty little bunny has nothing to say?” He taunts, but you truly can’t think, eyes fluttering, moaning when he slides another bite into your mouth, something sweet that bursts as you chew.

“Yummy.” You finally speak, and he sighs, fingers now running under the gems that decorate your chest now, exhaling, holding you just a little tighter, his embrace is addicting, everything about him draws you in, when it should scare you. But as you brush your hand on his face and he tenses, scowling.

“Will you… do that… thing, human?”

“What thing my King?” You ask, and he squishes your cheeks, pressing your lips up on either side, ruby eyes glinting under the chandeliers that hang. “Smile?”

“That. It’s an order.” You giggle then, you can’t help it, Sukuna exhales as he sees you, watches you smile, lighting up your face.

“Is that adequate, my King?” You tease, he is cupping your face tenderly, your heart starts racing, pounding in your chest as you turn toward him, straddling him carefully, leaning close. His hands tense, and you could swear they tremble just a bit, this huge monster of a man, weak for you. “I quite like you, when not being so nasty and cruel.”

“You like me?” He grabs your hips, pulling you against him, until his cocks are pressed on your heat. Your head falls back, a moan escaping, he starts nipping at your breasts harshly with his teeth, leaving bite marks, wet spots glistening. “You’re a foolish girl, perfect prey.”

“I think you like me too.” You grind against him now, fuck it feels good, your neglected clit begging for more. He grips you tightly then, shoving things aside to lay you on the dining table, you take up such a small part of it, laying there so pretty for him, your robes falling apart, revealing your soft skin.

“You’re an impetuous, annoying creature. Have you no sense of self preservation?” He slips his hands up your thighs as they tremble, sliding the silk up your legs, baring you to him, he audibly groans when he sees your cunt again. “Already wet, too?”

“You promised, you know.” You arch your hips up, pouting, and he laughs at you, undoing his robe, you gasp out when his tongue opens from his abdomen, stretching the skin, lapping your pussy up completely, so huge and hot and wet. “Ngh!”

He pulls his tongue back, laying over you, barring you with two strong arms, as the others hold your thighs apart. He leans down so close, and all you ache to do is kiss him more, he’s intimidating, gigantic, he has his stomach licking at you, but you keep thinking how his full lips would feel, smirking on your own. Your hands reach up and you pull at his hair.

“Excuse me, brat.” He swats your hands, and you pout again, earning all four eyes rolling. “Don’t give me that look. Ah, I like that expression, stupid fucked out face.” You’re helpless, when a hand grips your wrists, slamming your bound hands above your head, and his tongue is working between your folds. “Taste s’good on all my mouths.”

“S-Suk-ah!” He’s grinning now, sharp white canines glinting as his tongue slips inside your entrance, it’s so thick your walls are stretched, as he devours you on the dining room table, right next to the dinner that’s falling and clattering to the floor. “M’gonna… gonna…”

“That’s it, let me drink you, bunny.” He leans so close, but he won’t kiss you, he is drinking up all your soaking wet arousal, that starts gushing when he reaches a hand down, pinching your clit as his tongue fucks deeper, only for the tongue on his hand to now flick over your clit.

It’s all too much, your orgasm pours over you until you’re blinded, all while your husband, the king, is grinning, watching you avidly, as drool seeps from your mouth, while you’re shaking, struggling to close your legs, but he doesn’t let you. Your eyes roll back as your cunt throbs around his stomach tongue, and he’s lapping every bit of it from you.

“Please… please…” You whine now, he laughs as he watches.

“Pathetic, look at you. Pathetic, puny little bunny. Please what? Greedy thing, need to keep cumming?” He lets his tongue slide back in his abdomen, but now he’s sinking two fingers in you, pressing on that spot, you whine out, tears falling from pleasure.

“Please… k-kiss me.”

“Kiss you? You’re so odd, you know that?” You scowl, struggling to release your wrists, breasts slipping out of the robe, much to his pleasure and delight, he bends down and sucks on one, sharp teeth biting it, as his cocks press on your tummy.

“Kiss me, w-want it.”

“Demanding little…”

You free your wrists then, much to his surprise, yanking on his hair now, dragging his mouth to yours. He hesitates, but then passionately kisses you, brutal and rough, bruising your lips with his bites, with the force. You wrap your thighs around his thick hips now, rolling up for more and more.

He pulls back for a breath, fingers back in, pumping you so good, you’re cumming again, getting weak from pleasure, soaking his hand, soaking the table, you hear the sound of it, the squishing, your moans echoing in the chamber. You’re sure everyone in the damn castle can hear, but you really don’t care, you’re crying out so much your voice breaks.

“M’ready.” You whine now, reaching down, stroking him, he groans as you do, as he’s straining so hard.

“You’d lose your innocence on a table?” You’re blinking sleepily now, as the third orgasm hits, and you almost lose consciousness, it’s too much, his tongues all over, his hands everywhere, fingers in your cunt, fingers around your throat. Hands on hips, hands on your thighs, tongues lapping you every inch they find. “Slutty, sleepy brat. You will not sleep on me.”

“M’not… sleeping… c-can take it. Want it.” You’re a mess now, as he looks down at you, you’re so fucked out your eyes are fluttering to stay open, you’re covered in marks from his hands, from his mouth. Your pretty face has streaks of tears and drool that’s pooling out the side of it.

He should fuck you now, you’re pliant and ready, but you’re also exhausted and weak, still a human despite whatever energy you have. You’re lazily kissing him, why does he enjoy those kisses this much!? It's not something he even did, but with you… he can’t stand how good your lips feel. He felt horrible all day for hurting your feelings earlier.

Him, wanting a human to smile.

You have wetness glistening on your puffy cunt, glittering with your cum and his saliva, he can taste you everywhere, you’re all over, your scent, your face in his visions every time he blinks. It’s been two days but he’s finding himself obsessed, he wants more and more of you, so much so he can’t focus. You’re getting weaker in his arms, clearly the orgasms have taken their toll.

“You will rest for tomorrow, then your slutty cunt can have my cocks, is that understood? I will not deal with this weakness.” He says, and you giggle, the sound far too good to his ears, you’re grinning even, which is so pretty… and insolent. “You laugh at me? Want a demonstration of punishment for such a thing?”

“S-sorry. I feel s’good.” You’re clearly cockdrunk, and he hasn’t even gotten to slide a cock in you yet. He can’t stop the annoying affection from starting.

“To bed.” He hoists you up now, carrying you, and you snuggle to him, he’s so warm and he feels so good. He’s carrying you up the stairs, and you want more of him, more of this fucking amazing feeling, but you can barely function, eyes heavy, fading in and out. Soon you feel it, the softness of your bed. “Annoying brat.”

“C’mere.” You pull on him, of course he doesn’t budge, he’s pure muscle, but he lets you pull him close, you cup his face, yawning.

“You insolent-”

“Sorry!” You kiss him again, fuck you enjoy it. “I don’t want to displease you… I know we should consummate… I wanna be with you in…”

“Just go to sleep. You don’t displease me, just annoy me.” He says, surprisingly soft, and you look at him curiously, taking in his face as it’s above yours.

“Will you stay in bed with me tonight?” You ask, pleadingly, he sighs, jaw locking now.

“You’re so needy and endlessly aggravating. I have more to do, I cannot just sleep because you’re cock drunk.”

“Cock drunk! Ugh. Fine then.” You sigh, turning over, and when you feel a blanket cover you, you can’t stop the smile on your face. “Will you lay with me for a bit?”

“No, brat.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Go to bed. Now.” You giggle again, and hear his annoyed sigh as he walks out for the night, leaving you to snuggle, still smelling him, feeling him everywhere.

You just want more of him.

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part three>>>